#something about watching your father play on the team you grow up playing into

[ratatatastic]

Lundy Cup Day | 8.6.24 (x)

[gloomwitchwrites]

You've shown them as parents....but what about the 141 guys as first time dads? Like how are they during the delivery or the first time they held their baby? It doesn't have to strictly be a hospital setting, maybe it's a home birth?

Surprisingly, you're not the only person who asked this. I had two others ask for something really similar to this. So, this is me combining them all into one post!

cw: childbirth, fluff, pregnancy

Soap who is playing video games on his phone during the early stages of labor. Soap who also sets the video games aside when you go into active labor. Soap who is nervous but does his best to not show it (and does a terrible job not showing how nervous he is.) Soap who tries to dissolve the tension and anxiety by cracking jokes. This earns him a smack over the back of the head and a verbal threat of divorce. Soap who is locked in and focused during delivery, doing his best to encourage you as you push. Soap who grimaces when you squeeze his hand too hard but doesn't complain. Soap who watches the baby emerge with shock, awe, disgust, and fascination. Totally makes an inappropriate joke about it. Soap who is grinning from ear to ear once that baby is placed skin-to-skin in your arms. Soap who never stops smiling the rest of the time while in hospital and on the way home.

Gaz who supported your choice for a home birth over a hospital birth even though he disagrees. Gaz who does everything possible to assist the midwife and doula but still makes sure you have his entire attention. Gaz who does his best to speak calmly and soothingly to you even though he's anxious. Gaz who packed bags just in case you have to be transferred to the hospital. Gaz who allows you to cling to him and moan into his shoulder as you push. Gaz who cradles you in his arms as you’re handed the baby. Gaz who cherishes the skin-to-skin contact with his newborn when it’s his turn to hold them. Gaz who is realizing his whole world is starting to shift to surround this tiny human.

Price who tries to appear like he's in control of himself and his emotions Price who does his best to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Pillows fluffed? On it. Back rub? He won't stop until you say so. Anything, and he'll see it done. Price who severely overpacked and brought far too many things to the hospital. Price who constantly holds your hand, refusing to let go. Price who worries that the worst might happen even though he knows you have a great team taking care of you. Price who is so ready to be a father but is also terrified. Price who is in awe of you for going through this process and vows to cherish you even more every day for the rest of your lives together. Price who can't stop admiring the tiny little human that came out of you. He's obsessed with the itty-bitty fingernails and toes.

Ghost who is outwardly calm, cool, and collected, but internally is a mess. Ghost who is hyper focused on you. Whatever you need or want, you get. Ghost who is the first voice in the room to advocate for your health and safety. Ghost who appears scary and ominous to those around him, but is completely gentle and encouraging with you while you labor. Ghost who never flinches or complains when you squeeze his hand too hard. Ghost who never leaves your side during the whole ordeal. Ghost who tells you how proud he is of you while stroking your hair as you cradle your newborn against your chest. Ghost who, when he finally gets the chance to hold his child in his arms, doesn't want to put them down for anything. Ghost who realizes he now has the chance to be the father that he wishes he had growing up.

main masterlist

[penkura]

Father's Day Moments

Note: Sorry this so late today, I've been busy with my own stuff this weekend, but I got it done! :) This is simply Father's Day moments with a small surprise in each of them, I had a blast writing these. 💚 I know again that this day can be hard for some, so if this isn't something you're okay with reading, please feel free to skip it and read something makes you happy today. 💚💚

Ace has rarely ever thought about Father’s Day, considering his own issues with his father and all that growing up. Even after joining the Whitebeard Pirates he never thought too much of the day, only when Marco or someone else brought it that it was about that time of year. Once he has own his children, the sweet little girls you both share, he still doesn’t think about the day as being that important, it feels more for the kids then it does for the dad in his mind. You do most of the caring for your daughters anyway, even though Ace helps as much as he can when he’s not busy, you two are a team, you should use the day to rest together, right?

That’s why, after you get Rogue and Ann to give Ace the little handmade cards you helped them with (he’s not crying, you’re seeing things), Ace tries to pass the girls off to Marco and Izo for the day, having asked the two the day before if they could take the girls off the ship for the afternoon so you two could relax together. They both had agreed, you find it very odd they’re so willing to take the two when they’ve jokingly called your daughters little hell fires, Rogue and Ann are happy to go with them onto the island you’re docked at for a couple hours.

You’re still skeptical even when all Ace does is pull you into bed for a nap (just a nap, he swears when you ask if he’s got other motives). “Ace, what’s this all about? You know it’s—”

“Father’s Day, yeah, I know,” Ace buries his face in your hair and you can’t help but nearly melt in his arms, he’s so warm all the time, it feels so nice just to lay with him, “But you deserve some time off too~”

The way he nuzzles into your neck makes you giggle, wanting to say something about how you already had your day until he speaks up again.

“I wanna have another baby with you~”

That’s not a surprise to you, he’s said it several times since Ann turned four and you first brought it up, just wondering what his opinion would be and Ace promising he’d get back to you when he had decided. He finally did just about a week or two ago, right after her birthday, telling you that one more would be perfect, your family would be complete whether boy or girl.

“Yeah, that sounds good, Ace.”

It’s a few moments of silence before you hear him snoring, but it still makes you laugh softly before running your fingers through his hair while he sleeps.

“Happy Father’s Day, you dork.”

~~

Father’s Day had left a bad taste in Law’s mouth for a long time, having lost his own father and then Corazon, it first made him resent the day before it became just another day that meant time was passing by. No one to celebrate meant he could ignore it, until you came along and blessed him with your son and daughter, the two angels he watches play doctor almost every day with their stuffed animals. Eight-year-old Rosi and two-year-old Cora, both his spitting image and the brightest part of his days, apart from you obviously.

The day is quiet while your children play, Law trying to take a nap for once when he feels someone come over and put something on his chest, cracking one eye open to see Cora has her toy stethoscope while Rosi holds her up so she can reach, and it makes him smile. They’re both just darling, even if Rosi is reaching the point where he’ll say how embarrassing such statements are.

“What’s up? I need a checkup from Dr. Cora?”

She giggles and nods, while Rosi huffs a little. Cora has gotten so big, its hard for him to hold her for very long. He asks if she’s almost done, when she nods again and takes her toy off Law’s chest.

“All done!” Law ruffles her hair a bit and thanks her, as Rosi tells her they should go check her stuffed bunny now. The two hurry back to their toys, as Law tries again to nap before he feels like someone else is watching him, opening his eyes to see you leaned over giving him a smile.

“Have you gotten to rest at all?”

“No, but it’s fine,” shaking his head a bit, Law notices you seem to want to say something, and gives you a look, “You okay?”

“Mm,” nodding you look over to your children, watching them briefly as they wrap bandages around the bunny’s ears, “Just…what would you say to one more?”

Law raises an eyebrow and sees how fidgety you are by asking, wondering if you’ve already gotten an answer and you’re just double checking with him that it would be okay, or if you just suddenly have baby fever again. Either way, he doesn’t think it would be a bad thing. It would be welcomed.

“I think that would be fine…”

The way you light up and grin makes Law start to smile too, even when you begin to ramble a bit about how you haven’t felt well, which he knew already, and how you had gone and taken a pregnancy test, and well, looks like your ‘one more’ is coming sooner than expected based on the pink plus sign when you show him the test. Rosi and Cora were both planned, and while this one wasn’t, there’s an excitement in his heart that Law can’t deny at the thought of having another child with you.

Its not such a bad Father’s Day gift honestly.

~~

To be honest, Penguin never thought he’d be this lucky. He never thought he’d be lucky enough to find you, to get married and have two daughters with you, and now have the joy of bringing home your newborn son on Father’s Day, two days old and baby Sage has joined his sisters in your home, the eight-year-old and four-year-old girls both squealing over how tiny he is.

Penguin beams with pride while he watches them, Wren has gotten over her jealousy of having little siblings ever since Ivy started to get older and could play with her. When you told them the baby was a boy, they were both ecstatic to get a baby brother, and loved coming to the hospital to see and meet him.

As the two try to push each other out of the way to see him while Penguin holds Sage, you put your hands on their heads and quiet them down.

“Hey now, that’s enough. We don’t want to scare him. Don’t you two something for daddy anyway?”

Wren gasps loudly before nodding and grabbing Ivy’s hand, yelling for Penguin to wait there while they ran off to their room. He gives you a confused look while you sit beside him and start to coo at Sage.

“Babe, what’d you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. It was all them.”

When they finally come back, both are holding drawings they’d made the other day with you watching them (mostly since they were using markers). Wren had drawn your whole family as penguins while Ivy had mostly done stick figure drawings of your now family of five, both making sure to include the newest addition. They both tell Penguin ‘happy Father’s Day’ as they hand the pictures over, and he has to fight to not to cry while he hugs them close, kissing them both on the cheek multiple times and making them giggle.

“You’re both the best daughters I could’ve ever asked for!”

~~

Sanji doesn’t take a day off, what are you talking about? The man is a chef, a professional one at that, and with your twins tenth birthday just two days away, he’s busy making their birthday cakes and all the snacks and treats their friends are going to want at the party too. Even though he knows it’s Father’s Day, you know it too, your twins and second daughter have already given him the cards they’d made, he did cry and didn’t try to hide it, and he went right back to work. It might be a day for him to relax, but he doesn’t for more than those few minutes earlier in the day. He’d taken your three-month-old son Elie after you’d finished nursing him, strapping him against his chest in a baby carrier and getting to work while your baby slept against him so you could rest instead.

Honestly, it kind of made you feel bad because you’d already gotten your day, and Sanji was using his to prepare for your twins birthday party and watch your youngest son, your older three children were busying themselves with cleaning their rooms. You’ve already finished the laundry for the day and go to the kitchen to see Sanji isn’t up and cooking at the moment, instead sitting at the table and playing with your small son’s hands while talking to him while Elie looks up at him.

“I feel really blessed to have all of you, Elie. I really hope that you and your siblings know that as you grow up…” Sanji sighs a bit and places a soft kiss on Elie’s head, “I never want you to feel like I did.”

“They won’t,” you surprise Sanji by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek, “You’re a wonderful father and doing so well with them, Sanji. Just from watching you with all four of our babies, they all absolutely love you.”

“My love—”

“And don’t argue with me, you know its true.”

Sanji laughs and nods, knowing he’d lose that argument in a heartbeat. You’re always so headstrong and just want him to realize that yes, he’s doing a million times better than his own father did, he’s on par with Zeff nowadays, who your kids also have come to adore as their grandfather.

You look around the kitchen a bit, asking if Sanji wants any help, before he starts listing off everything he still has to do and you just watch him. He starts to take Elie out of the baby carrier and hand him over to you as he sees the look on your face.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…sit with Elie while you cook.”

He laughs again, before kissing your forehead and giving you a smile. “That would be wonderful, my love.”

~~

You never truly know how to celebrate Father’s Day when the father of your children is Zoro. It feels like he doesn’t care about it, even when you roll your eyes at him and tell him just to tell you what he wants, before he shrugs and says he doesn’t need anything. He’s got you, Keitaro, and Kuina, and the rest of the Straw Hats, what else could he possibly want or need? There’s nothing material he needs really, unless you want to get him the expensive sake he likes but you think a liquor store owner might find it highly concerning that a seven-month pregnant woman is buying alcohol, which just made Zoro laugh at you when you brought that up.

Ah right, that’s right, it’s not just you, your two children, and the rest of the Straw Hats anymore, or won’t be in a few short weeks. The baby you actually planned this time would be joining you all soon, that’s more than enough. He definitely doesn’t need anything when he thinks about that, just that you and this baby are safe through the rest of your pregnancy and the birth. That’s all he really wants.

Maybe some of that sake still but he’ll get that another way.

His morning meditation that day is interrupted when he senses Keitaro nearby, the seven-year-old trying to sneak up and catch Zoro off guard, though it never works thanks to his observation haki. Even when your son throws his arms around him and yells “gotcha!”, Zoro just smirks a bit, keeping his eyes closed.

“I knew you were there.”

“Daaaad, you’re cheating!” Keitaro whines and pouts, trying to climb onto Zoro’s back before giving up and going around to sit in his lap. “Mama said haki is cheating!”

“That’s only cause your mom can’t sneak up on me either.” He opens his one good eye and stares down at his little clone, the boy still pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. “Where’re your mom and sister?”

“Umm, Kuina’s still asleep, and mama was awake, but said she was going to lay down cause the baby was making her sleepy again.”

“And what are you doing up so early?”

Keitaro starts to look away a bit, shyly trying not to give anything up, before leaning his head against Zoro’s chest and saying “I wanted to hang out just with you…”

When he was younger, Zoro never thought that having kids was for him. He thought they’d get in the way, that there wasn’t any reason to really have them around apart from legacy, but then you showed up and turned everything upside down. Keitaro wasn’t planned, but he’d brought so much more to both your lives than either of you expected. Your sweet Kuina was a surprise too, you swear she’s made Zoro softer in more recent years, something he tries to deny but everyone else can see it when she’s got his attention.

And your coming addition, the one that was planned, even if they hadn’t been you still would welcome this baby happily. Sometimes, Zoro still isn’t sure that fatherhood suits him, but you swear to him that he’s the best father you’ve ever seen, even better than your own, and maybe you’re right, just from how Keitaro quietly wants to spend time with his dad, just the two of them before the day really gets started. Its more apparent when Kuina convinces him to read to her, and when your unborn child kicks at his hand while he talks to them.

“All right, buddy,” Zoro sets one hand on Keitaro’s back and strokes his hair with the other, watching as he starts to fall back asleep too, not used to being up this early, “You stay with me for now then.”

Maybe he’s not so bad at this fatherhood thing after all.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓀𝑒𝓎 Our girl: Growing Up | 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝐻𝒶𝓈 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒

summary: all good things come to an end when it's decided that custody will go to monkey's dad

thank you to @lvnleah and @alotofpockets for the help with this one

our girl: growing up masterlist

The moment the social worker told Leah that you would be moving in with your dad, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her feet. She’d been sitting in her mum’s kitchen, hands gripping the table's edge as though that might stop her world from tilting.

“But her grandma wanted her to be with me,” Leah said, her voice tight, almost breaking, “She told me before she passed. She wanted me to be the one to take care of her.”

The social worker gave Leah a measured look, “Leah, you’re 18. Legally, you’re an adult, but you’re still also very young. Social services believe that her father can provide a more stable environment. He has a steady job, a home, and–”

“He’s been absent for most of his life. Jean told me he was dangerous! How can you let her go back to a man like that?” Leah snapped, her frustration boiling over. 

Amanda placed a calming hand on Leah’s arm, “Bubba, you need to calm down…”

“No, mum. They don’t get it,” Leah shook Amanda’s hand off, “You can’t just drop her off with someone like that, you don’t understand what he’s like. He’s got you completely fooled. How is it possible to allow that? I’ve been there for her every day since her grandma got ill. I’m the one who knows her routine, her favourite bedtime stories, and how she likes the crusts cut off her sandwiches otherwise she won’t eat them. He doesn’t even know her favourite colour!”

“Leah,” Amanda said softly, but Leah still wouldn’t hear it.

“No, this isn’t fair! None of this is fair! They’re not listening. You’re not listening!” Leah’s frustration was directed at the social worker, “I’ll fight for her. I’ll go to court. I’ll… I’ll do whatever it takes for her to be mine!”

The social worker sighed a hint of pity in her eyes, “I understand that this is hard, Leah, but I’m sorry, the decision has been made,” She paused, “Her father has been assessed, and we believe it’s in her best interest to live with him. He’s her biological parent.”

“Her best interest? You don’t know what that even means,” Leah’s fists clenched on the table, “What about what that little girl wants? She’s only nine, but she still deserves to have a voice. She doesn’t want to go with him. She… She doesn’t even know him! Doesn’t that count for something?”

“At her age, her wishes are considered but not decisive,” The social worker explained to Leah, “I’m sorry, Leah. It’s out of your hands. You have until the end of the month, and then she will be moving to her father’s house.”

“Le!” You sprinted across the playground, your plaits swinging behind you, and you threw yourself into her arms.

“Oo, there’s my little Monkey!” Leah’s face lit up as she wrapped you in a warm embrace, lifting your backpack off your shoulders, “Did you have a good day at school today?” She asked, her voice full of affection.

Leah never missed a chance to pick you up from school. It had become one of her favourite parts of the day, a small ritual that always made her smile.

You nodded enthusiastically, your plaits bouncing with movement, “Uh-huh! So fun! And I made a new friend. She likes football too!” You couldn’t contain your excitement, the words tumbling out faster than you could keep up.

“Wow, really?” Leah feigned shock, her eyes sparkling, “That’s great!”

Grinning from ear to ear, you kept walking beside her, your hand firmly clutching hers as you headed toward the car, “I told her I play for the academy and that I know players from the Arsenal team!” You gushed, “She definitely wanted to be my friend after that!”

“Oh, I bet she did,” Leah chuckled, unlocking the car door with a click.

You slid into the car, fastening your seatbelt with a tug, “When you have your game this weekend, can she come watch too? I already told her she could!” You asked eagerly.

Leah’s smile wavered for a moment as her mind drifted to a darker place, but she quickly masked it, her voice soft as she hummed in agreement, “Maybe, we’ll have to see…”

The drive home was filled with your chatter as you excitedly told Leah more about your new friend, but Leah’s thoughts were far from the conversation. She smiled, nodded, and kept the atmosphere light, but inside, the weight of what was coming hung heavy on her heart.

The clock was ticking, and soon, you would be taken from her life.

Despite it all, Leah held onto the promise that she made to make every moment count.

“Is Jordy coming around today? I want to see her!” You asked, looking at Leah with hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, she’s coming round later,” Leah answered, her voice betraying just a hint of exhaustion.

“Do you think she’ll build Lego with me?” You asked, bouncing slightly in your seat, your excitement undiminished.

“You’ll have to ask her, but I have a sneaky feeling she’ll love that,” Leah replied, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

Even as you spoke with innocent joy, Leah’s heart ached. It was becoming harder to pretend everything was okay, harder to act as though there wasn’t an enormous weight bearing down on her – Knowing that, in just a short time, you would be gone, pulled away from her home and into a life she couldn’t bear for you.

“Remember, shoes off before you go racing through the house…” Leah’s words were left ignored as she unlocked the front door, in favour of you darting straight past her and grabbing the next Lego set you were itching to dive into.

“Ah, ah, not a chance, Monkey,” Leah called after you, her tone playful but firm, “No Lego until you’ve done your homework. You know the rules.”

“But homework is so boring, Le,” You complained, holding the Lego box like it was the most exciting thing in the world.

“It might be boring but it still needs to be done,” Leah smiled, unbothered, “You know this…”

“Le…” You whined, dragging out the sound like it was the most difficult thing in the world.

“The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can build your Lego,” Leah said, her voice reassuring.

“But it’s so boring though,” You muttered.

Leah raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile, “Why don’t you grab it out of your bag and we can take a look at it together?”

“It’s Maths,” You sighed, already dreading it.

“Ah, well, that just happens to be my favourite subject,” Leah replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Really?” You scrunched your face up in disbelief, “You are weird, Le!”

“Excuse me, little miss, I’ll have you know that Maths can be fun sometimes,” Leah teased, ruffling your hair.

“Nuh-uh. Maths is sooo boring,” You countered, sticking out your tongue, “And you’re weird for liking it!”

Leah laughed, shaking her head in amusement, but underneath, a wave of sadness washed over her. These moments – simple, ordinary, and filled with love – were becoming increasingly rare. She needed to cherish them.

“Tell you what,” Leah said, her voice softening, “We’ll run through your homework together, and then… my parents are out tonight, so it’ll just be me, you, J and Jord when she comes round for dinner. What do you say to pizza?”

“Cheese pizza?” You asked eagerly, already imagining the cheesy delight.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be anything else. So, why don’t you go grab your bag, and we’ll smash through this homework? And then we’ll have more time to build Lego, right?” Leah suggested, her words full of the kind of energy she desperately wanted to feel.

Leah was determined to fight for you over the coming weeks. She rallied her family, pleaded with her mum and dad to back her, and even roped in Jordan to help. Every connection she had was used to its full potential.

But the system was relentless, and every effort she made was met with the same cold response.

“You’re only 18. You’re too young. You don’t have the resources or experience to take on a child full-time.”

Thankfully Jean had left behind a written statement, ensuring that you would stay with Leah and her family until a formal decision was made.

The moments you spent with Leah and her family were some of the hardest, yet most meaningful moments of her life. You had both suffered through so much loss, and Leah poured every ounce of her heart into giving you the safety, comfort, and love you deserved.

Amanda and David both adored having you around. Amanda had become a maternal figure in your life, cooking your favourite meals and helping with your schoolwork. You loved the jokes David would tell you which would make you giggle controllably. Jacob, just a few years older than you, would happily sit and build Lego with you for hours. Jordan often came over, spending time with you, Leah and Jordan taking to you to the park or kicking a football in the garden.

Leah made sure you knew you weren’t ever alone. Together, you watched movies, played games, and built Lego creations that took days to complete, filled with laughter every step of the way.

Leah and Jordan had even been planning a trip to the zoo for your tenth birthday. They had saved up for weeks, wanting to make it special.

But then everything changed. Despite Leah’s best efforts, the court ruled in her dad’s favour, and you were sent to live with him just days before your birthday. The zoo tickets sat untouched on Leah’s bedside table, a painful reminder of what could have been.

The week leading up to the day you were set to move in with your dad had been filled with chaos, confusion and raw, vulnerable emotions.

It was clear that you were struggling with the impending change, and Leah could see it in your behaviour. You were no longer the calm, sweet little girl she knew but the complete opposite, a whirlwind of tantrums, resistance and anger.

At nine years old, you knew that something was happening. Something big and frightening, and you couldn't express the fear you felt any other way than lashing out.

Leah had tried to talk to you, tried to comfort you, but nothing seemed to work. Each day, you grew more defiant, more unwilling to cooperate, and more upset.

Here you were, sitting at the breakfast table, refusing to eat it with your arms crossed and glaring at the plate of toast in front of you, “I don’t want it!”

“Come on, Monkey,” Leah coaxed gently, “It’s your favourite. I made sure to cut the crusts off, just how you like it. Please try a bite.”

“No!” You shouted, pushing the plate off the table. The crash of the plate hitting the floor echoed through the kitchen, and everyone froze.

Leah stared at the mess, her frustration bubbling to the surface, “Monkey,” She said, her tone sharp, “That was unnecessary.”

You had never acted like this, not even on your worst days.

You slid off the chair and crossed your arms, tears forming in your eyes, "I don't want it. I don't! I'm not eating it. I'm not!"

“Le,” Amanda stepped in, her voice calm and soothing, “She’s scared. This isn’t about the toast.”

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly, “Alright,” She said, crouching to clear up the mess, “No breakfast then. Let’s go upstairs and get ready for school.”

“I don’t want to go to school!” You yelled, stomping your foot.

“You have to go, Monkey. You can’t stay here alone,” Leah replied, her patience wearing thin.

You shook your head in defiance, “No! I’m not going!” You continued to shout in protest.

Leah’s jaw tightened, and she stood, towering over you, “Enough. Upstairs. Now.”

The tantrum that followed was one of the worst Leah had ever faced. You kicked and screamed all the way upstairs, making Leah's job of getting you ready nearly impossible. By the time she was dressed and out of the door, you were ten minutes late to school, leaving Leah drained and dreading the rest of the day.

When you got home from school, your mood hadn’t improved at all.

“Monkey?” Amanda called gently, her tone light and inviting, “Do you want to help me set the table for dinner? I could do with my little helper.”

Normally, you’d love to help with this and be super helpful, but this time round, you completely ignored her in favour of focusing on your Lego.

“Monkey?” Amanda tried again, this time adding a playful note, hoping to coax you.

“WHAT?!” You snapped, your voice sharp and defensive.

Amanda blinked, taken aback by your tone, “Oh… I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart.”

Leah, who was busy with her own coursework, immediately looked up from her laptop, her brow furrowing, “Hey, excuse me, little madam. That’s not how we talk to people. I’d like you to apologise, please.”

You crossed your arms tightly, refusing to meet Leah’s eyes, “No, I don’t want to apologise to ‘Manda,” You muttered.

“Monkey, I understand you’re upset, but being upset doesn’t give you a free pass to be rude. Apologise now. Please,” Leah stood, her voice calm but firmer now.

“I don’t want to apologise, and I don’t want to set the stupid table!” You shouted, your frustration bubbling over as you slammed a Lego piece onto the table.

Leah crouched down beside you,  meeting your eyes with a steady gaze, “I know things feel really hard right now. And I know you have some big feelings inside, but throwing them at people like this isn’t fair. We’ve talked about finding ways to tell us what’s wrong, haven’t we?”

“I DON’T CARE!” You yelled, your hands gripping a Lego block tightly before you hurled it in Leah’s direction.

The block hit Leah’s arm with a soft thud. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, the room fell silent.

“Monkey,” Leah said after a deep breath, standing up slowly. Her voice had turned firmer now, though it remained steady, “We don’t throw things. That’s not okay,” She told you, “If you're not going to be nice then no more Lego tonight." She bent down to pick up the scattered blocks and placed them back in the box out of your reach.

"HEY. NO. GIVE IT BACK!" You screamed, launching yourself onto the floor, kicking your legs as tears streamed down your face.

Jordan walked into the room as your wail reached its loudest pitch, “Hey– Whoa. What’s going on in here?” She asked, her eyes flicking from you to Leah.

“Jordy! Le’s being mean!” You sobbed, pointing an accusing finger at Leah, “She took my Lego! Tell her to give it back– NOW!”

Jordan crouched down beside you, keeping her expression calm but concerned, “Hey, little one. That’s not how we ask for things, is it?” She said gently, brushing a hand over your hair, “If Le took the Lego away, I’m sure she had a reason. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No! She’s just super mean!” You wailed, your voice cracking as you buried your face in your hands.

“She threw a Lego brick at Leah,” Jacob piped up from the other side of the room, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Oh,” Jordan said, her brows lifting as she glanced at Leah, who gave a tired nod, “Well, you know that throwing things isn’t very nice, is it? I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if someone threw something at you, would you?”

“She deserved it!” You blurted, your voice muffled by your hands, “She’s being mean!”

“Hmm,” Jordan said thoughtfully, crouching lower to meet your tearful gaze, “It sounds like you’re feeling really upset right now, but throwing things or shouting doesn’t help anyone understand what’s wrong. Do you want to take some deep breaths and try telling us what’s going on?”

You shook your head stubbornly, curling up tighter on the floor.

Jordan sighed softly and looked up at Leah, who gave her a weary but understanding look, “Alright, little one,” She said, “When you’re ready to talk, we’re here. But for now, let’s take a break, okay?”

Your tantrum, however, carried well into bedtime where your defiance reached new heights.

“Alright, Monkey,” Leah said firmly as she stood by the sofa where you were curled up against Jordan, “It’s time for bed.”

“No! I’m not tired!” You argued, though your drooping eyes betrayed you, “I’m not going to bed! I’m staying up!”

“I don’t think so. It’s getting late, and that means it’s bedtime,” Leah replied, keeping her tone steady but firm.

“I don’t want to!” You yelled, your arms crossing tightly over your chest, “No!”

"Yes," Leah insisted.

You continued to stubbornly glare at Leah, "No!"

Leah took a deep breath, crouching to your level, "I'm not arguing with you about this, Monkey. Let's go –Upstairs to bed, please."

You kicked your legs out defiantly, "No!"

Jordan rubbed your back, trying a different approach, "Hey, come on. How about you go get changed into your pyjamas, and I can read you a bedtime story? We can pick your favourite one.”

"Nooo!” You wailed, “I don't want to go to bed!"

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly, "This is not up for decision, Monkey. It's bedtime, and that's final."

But instead of complying, you leaned forward, and in a burst of frustration, bit Leah’s arm.

“Ow, Monkey!” Leah gasped, pulling her arm back in shock, “No, we do not bite. That was very naughty. Why would you do that?”

Jordan winced as she watched you instantly cower in fear at Leah’s words. That is something that you have never done before, “Le, easy. I think she’s just scared with everything going on.”

“That still doesn’t make it acceptable for her to bite, Jord,” Leah retorted, “Monkey, I know you’re upset but we don’t bite. That is not okay to do.”

You froze, realising what you’d done, but the defiance in your eyes didn’t waver, “You’re being mean!” You shouted, even though guilt was beginning to creep in.

“Little one, biting hurts people,” Jordan reminded you, her expression softened but her voice remained calm, “That’s not how we show our feelings, even when we’re upset, it is?”

You shook your head stubbornly, tears welling in her eyes.

“I know things feel hard right now, Monkey,” Leah knelt beside you, her tone softer but still firm, “And I know you’re upset. But hurting people is never okay, no matter how big your feelings are. Do you want to try again and use your words instead?”

Tears began to spill down your cheeks as the weight of your emotions overwhelm you, “I… I don’t want to go, Le,” You finally admitted, your voice cracking as you buried your face in your hands, “I want to stay here with you, and Jordy, and… and ‘Manda, and J, and David.”

“Oh, Monkey,” Leah’s expression softened instantly, scooping you up into her arms and holding you close, “I know you want that, and I would love nothing more than for it to be possible, my girl, but it's… it’s complicated.”

“Then why can’t I?” You cried, your voice trembling with desperation, “Why does it have to be complicated? Why can’t I just stay here, Le?”

Leah sighed, her heart breaking at the rawness of your plea, “Well… Some people decided that it would be best for you to go and live with your biological dad, remember?”

“But I don’t want that!” You sobbed, clutching her tightly, “I want to stay here. I want to stay with you!”

“I know, my girl,” Leah whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I know you don’t. And if it were my choice, I wouldn’t let you go. Not for a second.”

“I don’t like it,” You murmured, your voice barely audible as you hid your head in Leah’s chest.

Leah rocked you gently, letting you cry into her jumper while her own eyes glistened with unshed tears, “Sometimes… Sometimes grown-ups make decisions that seem really unfair, don’t they?” She continued softly, “And I wish I could change this for you. I really do. But unfortunately, it’s just… it’s just not possible this time round.”

The morning of the move, the weight of the day pressed down on both of you. You clung to Leah as though she were the only thing anchoring you in the world that suddenly felt too big, too scary.

“Don’t make me go, Le,” You sobbed, your small hands gripping at her hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

Leah’s heart cracked in two. She could feel your pain, your fear, and the helplessness that filled every inch of her. She wanted to shield you, protect you from the uncertainty that lay ahead, but she knew it wasn’t that simple.

Your social worker that had been assigned to you was here to pick you up. She was a stern woman with a clipboard tucked under her arm, standing there impatiently by the door, glancing at her watch every few seconds, “We need to get going, Leah. She’s not going to do well if we keep dragging this out.”

But none of that mattered to you. You were determined you weren’t going anywhere, clinging tighter to Leah, “Nooo! Don’t make me go!”

Leah felt her patience fraying, “I know exactly how my girl is feeling, okay?” She snapped, her voice sharp and raw, “You don’t need to tell me how to handle this.”

The social worker blinked, taken aback by Leah’s tone but unfazed, “It’s just… Well, this is difficult enough without making it worse.”

“I’m aware,” Leah growled, her grip tightening on your shoulder as she tried to stay calm, “But she’s my priority right now.”

You buried your face into Leah’s chest, your sobs shaking her to the core, “I don’t want to go, Le. Please, I don’t want to go!”

“I know, I’m sorry, Monkey,” Leah whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of her own emotions, “I’m so sorry. It’s just… It’s not up to me anymore. It’s… It’s out of my hands, my girl.”

You shook your head, tears soaking up her hoodie, “But I… I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go.”

Leah tilted her head back, trying to blink away the tears burning her eyes, but they wouldn’t stop. She had to be strong for you, even if she didn’t feel strong at all, “I know, Monkey. I know,” She said softly, brushing your hair out of your face, “Remember how we talked about doing things we don’t want to do?”

“Uh uh,” You sniffed, nodding hesitantly, “Like grandma’s funeral? When I was scared?”

“Yeah, just like that,” Leah replied, her voice gentle but firm. She ran a hand through your hair, her fingers catching on the tangled strands - a reminder of how you’d refused to let her brush it this morning, “Well… This is one of those times, too. It’s hard, and it’s scary, but… it’s something we have to do.”

The social worker cleared her throat, stepping closer, trying to force the moment along, “Leah, we really can’t delay this any longer. It’s time.”

Leah spun around, her face contorting with frustration, tears still hanging heavy in her eyes, “Do you think I don’t know that?!” Her voice cracked under the weight of everything, the words coming out sharper than intended, “I don’t need you rushing me. This is my kid. My kid, okay? Flesh and blood don’t mean anything. And if you think you’re going to make this easier by standing there like you’re some clock-watcher, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

The social worker held up her hands in a gesture of surrender, “I’m just trying to help you both.”

“By hurrying me up?” Leah’s jaw tightened, “By forcing us into this goodbye before we’re ready? That’s not helping. So no, I’m not ‘just’ going to let you make this harder. You’re going to have to wait.”

You looked up at Leah, eyes red and tear-streaked, “I want to stay with you, Le. Please… Please don’t make me go!”

Leah knelt down, bringing your face to hers. She wiped away your tears with the pads of her thumbs, “I know, Monkey. I know… But we talked about this, remember? You have to be brave.”

“I… I don’t want to be brave,” You continued to sob, shaking your head as tears continued to spill down your cheeks, “I don’t want to, I want to stay here. I want to… I want to stay with you. Don’t make me go, Le!”

“Shh, I know, my girl, I know,” Leah cupped your face and pulled you closer to her, “You’re going to be okay, Monkey. You are… It’s going to be fine. You are going to be fine.”

The social worker shifted uneasily, glancing at the door, “Leah, I really think we need to–”

“No. Not yet,” Leah snapped, her patience completely gone, turning back to you, her arms wrapping around you tighter as if to keep the world at bay for just a little while longer, “You’re gone to be fine, you’re going to be okay, my girl. I love you so much.”

You sniffled against her shoulder, still reluctant to let go. The social worker took a step back, choosing silence instead of pushing further.

“I know it all seems big and scary right now that things are changing, but I need you to be brave, yeah?” Leah squeezed you a bit tighter, savouring the moment before she looked up at the social worker from where she knelt beside you, “I know it’s time but do you think I could just have a minute alone? Please.”

The social worker hesitated but nodded, stepping back into the hallway, and leaving Leah and you alone.

“I’m never going to stop fighting for you, Monkey,” Leah leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’m never going to stop, okay? I love you, my girl.”

“I love you too, Le,” You whispered back.

Leah pulled you into one last tight hug, wishing for time to stop, wishing she could keep you forever. But the reality was unavoidable. 

“Be brave my girl,” Leah murmured with a final, heart-wrenching kiss on your forehead, she stood up, wiping away the last of her tears.

“I… I should’ve fought harder,” Leah muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, the exhaustion in her words heavy with self-doubt.

Leah sat on her mum’s sofa, her phone lying untouched in her lap. Her fingers gripped the cushion, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the black screen. Her mind replayed the last few hours – the goodbye, the sobs, the quiet ache of watching you leave – and the words she’d been trying to ignore crept up again, gnawing at her insides.

“Le, you did everything that you could,” Jordan said softly, sitting beside her on the sofa. She’d come round that night, knowing how difficult this was for Leah. She placed a hand on Leah’s knee, her touch grounding, “You couldn’t have done more.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Leah whispered, shaking her head, “She begged me, Jord. She begged me to not let her go, and I… I couldn’t stop it,” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, “What kind of a person am I if I can’t even protect her?”

Jordan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, “You’re the kind of person who loves her enough to keep fighting, even when it feels impossible. That’s who you are, Le.”

Leah leaned into Jordan’s embrace, her chest tightening with the effort of holding back her emotions.

Before she could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs caught both of their attention. Moments later, Jacob appeared, clutching a small, worn brown and white monkey.

“Mum?” Jacob’s expression was hesitant and unsure, glancing towards Amanda, “I found this on the stairs…” He held it out, the monkey’s arms ragged from years of being chewed on. 

Leah stared at the stuffed monkey, her breath catching in her throat, “That’s… That’s Monkeys,” She whispered, her voice breaking, “If she doesn’t have that then…” Her hands trembled as she reached out and took the stuffed monkey, clutching it tightly to her chest.

“She’s not going to be able to sleep without it,” Jacob said quietly, his tone filled with the kind of innocent wisdom that only children possess.

Leah couldn’t hold back anymore. A sob escaped her lips as she buried her face in the monkey’s soft fur, the familiar scent hitting her like a wave. All the emotions she’d been holding in – the guilt, the heartbreak, the helplessness – poured out in heavy, gut-wrenching sobs.

Jordan tightened her hold around Leah, whispering soothing words into her ear as Amanda came over, sitting on Leah’s other side, “She’s going to be okay, Bubba,” She said firmly, though her own eyes were glassy, “You’ve done everything you can, and she knows you love her.”

Leah shook her head, tears streaming down her face, “It’s not enough,” She choked out, “She needs me. I… I should’ve fought harder.”

“You fought as hard as you could,” Jordan reassured her, “And you’re not done fighting, Le. You’re not giving up on her.”

Leah’s jaw clenched, tears brimming in her eyes, “I’ll never give up on our girl. Never.”

Amanda reached over and squeezed her hand, “And that’s why, in the end, you’re going to be the one she turns to.”

© scribblesofagoonerr

[starkwlkr]

can u make an imagine where Noah is graduating pre-k or something and the whole family would be there like imagine proud dad max 😍😍😍

and a little family interaction between reader max and Noah 🥲❤️

oh, the places you’ll go | max verstappen

You, Max, his mother and sister were in the assembly hall of Noah’s school. It was his graduation from pre-kindergarten and you were holding back tears. Your baby was growing up. The ceremony was going to start soon and Max was getting his phone ready to film and take pictures.

“Do you think he will see us? Maybe we should change seats, there’s some empty ones up there.” Max wondered since they were seated right in the middle.

“It’s fine, Max. I let him know where we are sitting. I’m sure when Noah is on stage you’ll stand up and yell his name so yeah i am positive he will see us.” You chuckled. Then Noah’s teacher came out with a microphone to let everyone know the ceremony was starting.

“Please welcome our graduates!” The teacher announced as music started to play while the line of kids started coming in to the assembly hall.

The kids were lined up by their last name so Noah was near the end, but that didn’t bother him. He was happy since he was next to a friend of his. As he walked towards the stage, Noah kept looking for his family. He then spotted his father waving his hand so Noah could spot him.

“Look! That’s my dad!” Noah told his friend. Noah then waved back to Max.

“He saw me!” Max smiled brightly.

Finally, all the kids were on stage in their little plastic chairs facing the audience. After everyone was seated, Noah’s teacher, Ms. Dutton, have a speech about how proud she was of the kids. She then announced that each kids would come up to the microphone and say what they wanted to be when they were older.

Many of Noah’s classmates said the common careers like astronaut, teacher etc. When it was Noah’s turn, you got ready with your phone to take a video. Noah had told you what he wanted to be and you knew that you needed to record Max’s reaction to your son’s answer.

“Noah, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“When I grow up I want to be the team principal of Red Bull so my dad can win more races and be world champion a lot of times.”

Laughter erupted from the audience, many parents knew who Noah’s dad was so they thought it was funny. Max laughed as well loving the answer. He didn’t even notice you were recording his reaction.

“He’s going place.” Max said while clapping for his son.

“Another Verstappen in Formula 1!” Sophie laughed.

After every kid said their answers, it was time for them to receive their diplomas. Now it was Max’s turn to be the photographer. He made sure to get the right angle when it was Noah’s turn.

“Noah Verstappen.” Ms. Dutton said as the Verstappen family clapped and cheered for Noah.

“Hi dad!” Noah waved to Max from the stage. Max waved back then continued to take several pictures of Noah being handed his diploma. His phone was pretty much pictures of Noah anyway.

After the ceremony, you all went to pick up Noah at his classroom. When you arrived, you found him sitting at his regular seat with his friend playing with toy cars. It took him a second to realize his family had arrived, but when he spotted you, he ran towards you and Max.

“My beautiful boy just graduated! I’m so proud of you, Noah.” You picked him up and showered him with kisses then set him down.

“Congratulations Noah!” Sophie hugged her grandson. “Are you going to help your dad win more championships?”

“Yes! And he’s going to win a lot!”

“Watch out, everyone, another Verstappen is coming to the paddock.” Victoria teased.

“Dad did you see me?” Noah asked as Max picked him up.

“I did! Did you see me?”

“Yeah, I heard you so many times and I told my friend that you were my dad and he said that he likes your car because it goes so fast.” Noah explained.

Noah then decided to show his dad around the classroom and show him some of his work that was stapled to the cork board while you chatted with Sophie and Victoria. Max payed close attention to everything Noah was telling him even if half of it didn’t make sense, he still listened. Noah then showed him a drawing that he made of Max, you and him with his car.

“This is you and mommy and me and your car.” Noah pointed out. “You don’t have your trophy because you didn’t win it yet.” Max assumed it was a drawing of them from Abu Dhabi 2021 before the race started.

“It’s beautiful, Noah. I’m going to take a picture of it so I can show everyone in the paddock.” Max them took his phone out and took several pictures.

From where you stood, you watched your boys. It was too adorable seeing Max with Noah. You knew that Noah would be loved and protected by Max everyday. You thank your lucky stars everyday that Max came into your life.

[growthhyp]

An accidental muscle theft here, hi 🫣.

Now, im a 50 years old stepdad i wanted to buy a gift for my stepson maybe those black boxers can work.

The Black Boxers

The warm, early autumn sun shone down on the cluttered garage sale, casting a golden glow on the assortment of forgotten treasures and knick-knacks. You, a 50-year-old man with a heart that had learned the meaning of true love and loss, meandered through the labyrinth of tables, each one groaning under the weight of discarded memories. The air was filled with the aroma of dust and the distant chuckles of neighbors swapping stories and bartering deals. The leaves whispered a soft lullaby as they danced in the gentle breeze, a poignant reminder of how life's seasons change.

Growing up, you had been the shy, unassuming boy, the one who often went unnoticed by the fairer sex. Yet, in your 30s, the universe had thrown you a lifeline in the form of the most enchanting woman you had ever laid eyes on—your future wife and Andrew's mother. The moment you saw her, something inside you had ignited. With trembling hands and a racing heart, you had mustered the courage to approach her, and to your astonishment, she had looked at you with kind eyes and a welcoming smile. Her acceptance of your feelings had been like a breath of fresh air, a new beginning you hadn't dared to dream of.

And now, with her gone, Andrew had become the very essence of your existence, the reason you woke up every morning and worked tirelessly at your job as a restaurant server. The bond between the two of you had grown stronger over the years, despite the stark contrast in your physical appearances. You had never been one to boast about your physique, but Andrew—his mother's son—was a towering testament to athleticism, a force to be reckoned with on the football field. He was a young man you were incredibly proud of, even though his interests had taken him on a path far removed from your own.

The muscular frame that Andrew now flaunted was a stark reminder of his biological father, a man you had never met but had heard tales of. His mother had spoken fondly of his athletic prowess, how he could command the attention of any room with his sheer presence. Yet, as you watched Andrew from the sidelines of his games, you felt a strange kinship with the man you had never known. It was as if the genetic legacy of strength and power had skipped a generation, landing squarely in the hands—or rather, the muscular embrace—of your stepson.

You approached the garage sale with a sense of purpose, knowing that Andrew's birthday was fast approaching. Despite the meager wages from your job as a server, you were determined to find something that would bring a smile to his face. You rummaged through piles of t-shirts and shorts, hoping for something that screamed 'football' without being too cliché. And there, amidst the sea of discarded goods, the muscular man emerged, a beacon of hope with his table of sporting goods.

His biceps bulged as he folded a faded jersey, drawing your eyes to his sculpted physique. "What would you like to purchase?" he asked, his voice deep and resonant. You felt a twinge of nostalgia for your youthful aspirations, the days when you had dreamed of muscles like his. "Actually, I'm looking for something for my son," you replied, trying not to betray the hint of longing in your voice. "He's on the college football varsity team, so I'm not sure what to pick."

The muscular man's eyes lit up with understanding, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He reached beneath the table, producing a black boxer with a subtle silver trim. "This," he said, holding it up with a flourish, "is perfect for someone in his position." The fabric looked durable, the kind that could withstand the rigors of athletic activity. "I guarantee he'll love it," he added with a wink. You nodded, hopeful that this simple piece of clothing could somehow bridge the gap between you and Andrew, remind him that you knew what it was like to be a man, to strive for something greater.

With the exchange of a few crumpled bills, the black boxer became yours to give. You tucked it away safely in your bag, feeling a sense of triumph. It wasn't just any old gift; it was something that screamed 'I support you' in a way that only a fellow sports enthusiast could understand. As you walked away from the table, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for the life this stranger led—his body a canvas for power and dominance. But you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the excitement of giving Andrew something that might just make his day.

The sun had set by the time you got home, your mind buzzing with anticipation for tomorrow. You wrapped the black boxer in simple, yet elegant, paper, careful not to crease or damage the fabric that now held such promise. You placed it on Andrew's bed, a silent sentinel of the transformation that awaited him. When the morning light streamed through the blinds, he found it, his eyes lighting up like a child's on Christmas day. "Thanks, Dad," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. You felt a swell of pride, knowing that despite the challenges of your past, you had managed to make a real connection with the young man you had vowed to raise as your own.

That night, the garage sale's mysterious magic began to unfold. As Andrew donned the black boxers, a strange sensation washed over him. His muscles, already formidable, began to swell and pulse with newfound power. He felt a surge of strength and vitality that seemed to emanate from the very fabric that clung to his growing physique. He flexed his biceps in amazement, watching them balloon before his very eyes. His chest broadened, the crevice of his six-pack deepening with each grunt of exertion. His legs thickened, the veins becoming more pronounced as if they were trying to escape the confines of his skin. His cock grew too, standing tall and proud, demanding his attention.

Andrew couldn't believe the transformation. He had always been athletic, but this was something else entirely. The black boxers had unlocked a potential within him that was both thrilling and slightly disconcerting. He tried to contain his excitement, not wanting to alert you to the sudden changes. But as he jerked off, his mind racing with thoughts of unbridled power and virility, he couldn't help but feel a sense of euphoria. His moans and grunts of pleasure filled the quiet house, echoing down the hall to your own room, though you remained oblivious to the cause, attributing the sounds to his natural development.

As the weeks passed, Andrew's football performance soared to new heights. Coaches and teammates alike took notice of the burgeoning beast on the field, his aggression and dominance becoming the talk of the town. Yet, off the field, his personality had begun to shift, mirroring the changes in his physique. The once shy and gentle giant was now a cocky, arrogant presence that seemed to command attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but worry, though you brushed it off, chalking it up to the pressures of college life and the natural progression of a young man's hormones.

One fateful day, while doing his laundry, you stumbled upon the torn black boxer in the trash. The fabric looked as if it had been stretched to its limits, the seams strained by the sheer power of the muscles beneath. You picked it up, examining the damage with a furrowed brow. "I don't need it anymore," Andrew had casually said when you asked him about it. "It doesn't fit anymore because of my muscles." You nodded, understanding his need for new clothes but feeling a twinge of disappointment that your thoughtful gift had been discarded so quickly.

But your thrifty nature wouldn't let you throw away something that could still be used. You took the boxer in your hands, turning it over to assess the damage. The tear was small, but it had clearly been under immense pressure. You decided to fix it, pulling out your sewing kit from the drawer and carefully threading the needle. With meticulous precision, you stitched the fabric back together, making sure that it would hold against the relentless growth of Andrew's body. After all, the boxer had cost you a pretty penny, and it was only right that it served its purpose for as long as possible.

The following morning, you stepped out of the shower, feeling the cool tiles against your bare feet. You grabbed the repaired black boxer, noticing how baggy it had become. It was almost comical, but you shrugged it off, sliding it on. You were about to leave for your shift at the restaurant when you felt a strange warmth envelop you, a heat that grew more intense with each passing second. The tremor started in your fingers, a gentle vibration that grew to a quake, rushing through your body. You stumbled backward, the world around you a blur, and fell onto your bed with a thud. Your body convulsed as if you were being electrified, muscles contracting and expanding without your consent.

On the other side of the house, Andrew stirred in his sleep, the tremor jolting him awake. "What the fuck is happening?" he whispered, his voice barely above a croak.

As you lay on the bed, the tremor grew stronger, your muscles stretching and swelling with an intensity that was both painful and exhilarating. You watched in awe as your biceps grew, the two heads bulging outwards to form the peak of power you had always envied in others. The veins on your forearms became more pronounced, the brachioradialis flexing with each involuntary contraction. Your triceps, once hidden beneath layers of flab, began to take shape, forming the horseshoe that signaled true upper body strength.

Your chest expanded, the pectoral muscles pushing against your skin, creating a broad, intimidating silhouette. The growth was not limited to your arms and torso; your back muscles, the lats, began to spread wider, pulling your shoulders back and giving you the illusion of a smaller waist. The deltoids grew round and firm, capping your shoulders and making them seem even broader from the side. Your traps, once unnoticed, started to thicken, lending a sense of power to your neck and upper back that you had never experienced before.

The tremor grew more intense as the muscles in your stomach contracted and expanded, sculpting your abs into a defined six-pack. The lines between each abdominal muscle grew deeper, your stomach becoming flatter, more chiseled. The transformation was not just in your upper body; your legs also began to bulk up. Your quads stretched the fabric of the black boxers, the muscles becoming more pronounced as they grew. The hamstrings on the back of your thighs started to take shape, balancing the powerful look of your legs and contributing to your newfound athletic appeal.

In stark contrast, Andrew's body began to experience the opposite transformation. As the night wore on, his muscles deflated, the power and definition that had once made him the envy of his peers slowly dissipating. His arms, once bulging with the promise of victory, grew leaner, the veins retreating beneath his skin. His chest, once a bastion of strength, flattened, the pectoral muscles shrinking back into obscurity. His back, which had once boasted an impressive 'wingspan', now appeared narrow, the lats retreating to leave a less defined silhouette. The cockiness in his stride was replaced with a tentative gait as the very essence of his athletic identity was siphoned away.

You watched the mirror, your newfound confidence surging through your veins like a potent drug. Each flex of your newly-honed biceps sent waves of pleasure through your body, a testament to your newfound power. The tremor had subsided, leaving you in the aftermath of your transformation. You felt alive in a way you hadn't since your youth, a fiery determination burning in your eyes as you surveyed the landscape of your new physique. Your mind raced with thoughts of dominance and conquest, a stark departure from the timidity that had once been your hallmark.

Andrew's transformation, however, was a mirror image of your own. The once towering pillar of strength was now a shell of his former self, his muscles retreating to reveal the soft, submissive boy you had met all those years ago. His shoulders slumped, his chest deflated, and his eyes held a quiet desperation that tugged at your heartstrings. The arrogance that had so recently consumed him was gone, replaced with a shyness that seemed to shrink him before your very eyes.

You felt the urge to reach out, to comfort him, but something held you back—something primal and unyielding. Your hand found its way to the bulge in your own black boxers, and you began to stroke yourself, the fabric now taut against your newfound size. It was as if the very essence of Andrew's vitality was being transferred to you, filling you with a power that was both intoxicating and slightly terrifying. Your cock grew harder, longer, and you couldn't resist the urge to take it in hand, to revel in the sensation of your newfound virility.

Hour after hour passed, your strokes becoming more vigorous as the transformation neared its peak. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you edged closer to climax. The room grew thick with the scent of musk and male power, a scent that seemed to fuel your desire. Your eyes remained locked on the mirror, watching as the last vestiges of your old self slipped away, replaced by the sculpted physique of a man in his prime. The tremors grew less frequent, your body now a finely-tuned instrument of power.

As you reached the precipice, you felt your cock pulse in your hand, swollen and heavy. With one final, desperate pull, you erupted, your cum shooting through the air in ropes of white-hot pleasure. The release was more intense than any you had experienced in your life, a testament to the changes the black boxers had wrought.

In the quiet that followed, the only sound was the slowing of your breath and the steady drip of cum onto the floor. Your body felt alive, charged with an energy that seemed to resonate through every fiber of your being. The tremors had ceased, and your transformation was complete. You looked down to see the once-baggy black boxers now stretched tightly over your massive thighs, the fabric clinging to your bulging muscles like a second skin.

Andrew's transformation had been swift and dramatic. His cock, once a symbol of his newfound virility, had shrunken back to a more modest size. The deflation was as sudden as the inflation had been, leaving him looking slightly lost amidst the sheets. His breath grew shallow and his eyes closed once more, his body succumbing to exhaustion from the ordeal. His sleep was deep, a stark contrast to the restlessness that had plagued him since the onset of his own transformation.

You, on the other hand, felt more alive than ever before. The tremors had subsided, leaving you with a body that was the embodiment of masculine power. You pushed yourself up from the bed, the mattress groaning under the weight of your newfound muscular frame. The black boxers that had once been baggy on you now clung to your body like a second skin, highlighting every bulging contour. You took a deep breath, feeling your newfound chest muscles expand, filling your lungs with confidence.

Walking over to the mirror, you couldn't help but admire the reflection staring back at you. The softness of your former body had been replaced with a sculpted physique that would make any bodybuilder proud. Each flex of your bicep sent a shiver of excitement down your spine, the peak of the muscle threatening to rip through the fabric. You turned to the side, admiring the 'V-taper' of your back, the lats spreading like wings that had been unfurled for the first time. Your shoulders looked broader, more defined, and your waist, once thick with age, had cinched in, giving you the appearance of a chiseled statue.

As you continued to flex, the reality of your new life as a professional bodybuilder sank in. The countless hours of training, the strict diet regimen, and the dedication to sculpting your body had paid off. You had always been proud of Andrew's academic achievements, his intelligence a stark contrast to your own physical prowess. The scholarship he had earned was a testament to his hard work and a relief to your wallet. Now, as you stood before the mirror, you felt a sense of pride in your own right, a pride that had been missing since you had last felt truly strong.

[sw33tsuccubus]

when reader is a child of Poseidon

Being a child:

people at camp are either afraid of you or love you. there’s no in between.

percy was avoided like the plague and then slowly became popular sooo

there are multiple aspects to Poseidon’s domain. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Sea God.” there are different powers you could inherit from him.

you could be in control of water, like percy. you could make toilets explode and bend a river to do your bidding. you could make yourself swim extra fast and you could talk to sea creatures.

you could control storms. you could control the wind during a storm, you could create hurricanes, you could create thunderstorms. Zeus would hate you, but who cares?

you could control the earth, causing earthquakes with sheer willpower. when you stomp, the earth rumbles a bit. you could crack the surface of the earth if you focused.

no matter what powers you inherit, you’re always able to breathe underwater and talk to horses. those are the main traits of your fathers children.

you have a smell of sea that just clings to you. you also heal when in water. your father is quite powerful.

Relations:

your father does his best to keep a decent relationship with you. he answers as many prayers as he needs to. he wouldn’t choose favorites between you and percy.

speaking of percy

you two bully each other about your habits. you make fun of his blue food, he’ll find something to poke fun at.

you two have an ongoing prank war. you once dyed his hair pink. he once put shaving cream in your shoes. it’s awful. sometimes you team up together to prank the Stoll brothers.

when you two team up during games, everyone’s scared. first off, you two are some of the strongest demigods at camp. second, you work so well together, almost like you speak telepathically.

tyson loves you. he finds out he not only has percy, but now you too!

he crafts you something, like he made percy his shield. it’ll be engraved with something related to you. maybe one of your favorite greek heroes, or what you look like during training. it looks neat.

the three of you all hang out with Mrs. O’Leary and it’s so fun. percy plays fetch with her and you chat with tyson while watching everything with a smile. the three of you team up against the hellhound to play tug of war and you always end up bruised and scraped. but it’s so fun!

Annabeth comes up with a name, like she has seaweed brain for percy. maybe kelp head or rain cloud or something related to your abilities.

Grover will hang out with you whenever. he’s usually busy with counsel duties, but he’ll make time for you. he likes walking through the woods with you and chatting about nature.

percy shows up wherever you live for your birthday if it isn’t during the summer. Sally is often behind him, bringing in a gift and giving you a nice hug. percy will pick you up and say something along the lines of ‘My baby sibling is growing up!’

the gift is normally blue candies or a pretty seashell. it’s very sweet.

Sally and your parent will talk about whatever while you and percy talk about what’s been going on at school while playing a video game on the television or playing some random board game.

if your birthday is during the summer, percy insists you hang out at the beach and have a picnic with Annabeth and Grover and any of your friends.

percy gets a blue cake from the pavilion and carries it to the lake where they all sing you happy birthday. some Hermes kid got their hands on candles so you could make a wish.

as new eras begin, percy grows more protective over you. he can’t lose anyone else.

you become friends with will while you’re left at camp while your brother takes off all the time. #1 best friends. some may call it a bromance

he makes sure you don’t do stupid stuff while also having fun with you. you go walking in the woods and he’s making sure you don’t scramble up a tree while also chasing you around.

you watch sunsets together and have little makeovers. you style each others hair (it’s really funny sometimes) and paint each others nails. you go to the archery range together, no matter how bad you are at it. you comfort him after a shift at the infirmary, and he’s there for you after you’re strained from your abilities.

you become a popular person at camp, but this time it’s not because you’re scary. it’s because you’re older and people realize you’re gonna look out for them all.

and also you’re the half sibling of Percy freaking Jackson, but whatever.

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° what's meant to be will always find a way

( nanase nijiro x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — for my new childhood friends to lovers series :)

♡ word count — 1.9k

♡ content — nanase nijiro x fem! reader, fem! reader, coach's daughter! reader, reader's dad has been nanase's soccer coach basically his whole life, secret relationship, goes from when they're 8 to the U-20 game, let's pretend nanase played a bit in the U-20 game

♡ synopsis — All Nanase Nijirou ever wanted was to prove himself. Not just as a player but as the person who would always be worthy of your love.

Nanase Nijiro met you when he was just eight years old, all knobby knees and a crooked grin that didn’t quite match his quiet personality. Your dad was his little league soccer coach, and from the moment Nanase joined the team, your father’s voice seemed to boom louder whenever Nanase was around.

“This kid’s got potential,” your dad had said once, hands on his hips as he watched Nanase run drills. You were sitting nearby on the sidelines, clipboard balanced on your lap, dutifully helping keep score or jotting down notes like the perfect assistant.

Nanase thought you were intimidating, standing there like a miniature version of your father—sharp-eyed, quiet, and serious. He tried his best to avoid you at first, focusing on impressing the coach instead.

But fate had other plans.

During one particularly intense practice, Nanase tripped over the ball, tumbling hard onto the ground. The sting of scraped knees bit into his skin, and dirt clung to the fresh wounds. He bit back tears, willing himself to get back up before anyone noticed.

“Shake it off, Nanase!” your dad barked from across the field.

Before he could, though, you were already walking toward him, first-aid kit in hand.

“Sit down,” you ordered gently, kneeling beside him.

Nanase froze, unsure of what to say as you cleaned the dirt from his knees with an alcohol wipe. He flinched at the sting but tried to hide it, not wanting to seem weak in front of you.

“It’s not that bad,” he muttered.

You glanced up at him, unimpressed. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t play if you’re bleeding all over the field.”

Your hands worked quickly, applying bright, colorful bandages to his scraped knees. When you finished, you gave him a small smile.

“There. Now you’re good as new.”

Something shifted in that moment. Nanase stared at you, wide-eyed, as if seeing you for the first time. You weren’t as scary as he thought—just kind.

From then on, Nanase couldn’t help but gravitate toward you. During water breaks, he’d wander over to the sidelines, chatting with you about school, soccer, or whatever came to mind. He wasn’t naturally talkative, but around you, the words came easily.

You teased him about his growing habit. “You know, you’re supposed to practice during practice, right?”

“I’m taking a break,” he’d say, grinning sheepishly.

Somewhere between bandaged knees and quiet conversations, a friendship bloomed.

By the time you both reached junior high, you and Nanase were inseparable. He still played under your dad’s coaching, but now the practices were more intense, the stakes higher. Your dad pushed Nanase harder than ever, singling him out during drills and yelling at him to work harder.

“He’s only like this because he believes in you,” you’d remind Nanase after practice when he dragged himself to the bleachers, exhausted.

“I know,” he’d reply, his smile a little strained. “Doesn’t make it easier, though.”

You’d sit together for a while, watching the sunset paint the sky orange and pink. Sometimes, he’d lean over to peek at your notebook, curious about what you were sketching or writing.

“What’s this?” he’d ask, pointing at one of your doodles.

“Nothing important,” you’d say, closing the notebook quickly, but he’d grin, knowing you didn’t actually mind his nosiness.

By the time you both hit your final year of junior high, the lines of friendship had blurred into something more. It wasn’t sudden—more like a slow, inevitable shift. Lingering touches, the way his eyes lingered on you longer than before, the flutter in your chest when he smiled at you.

One evening after practice, while the rest of the team was packing up, Nanase pulled you aside behind the equipment shed.

“I, uh…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You tilted your head, curious. “What is it?”

“I like you,” he blurted out, his face red as he looked at the ground. “Like, really like you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could overthink it, you leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I like you too,” you admitted softly, your face just as red as his.

That was how it started—your quiet, secret relationship.

Nanase respected your dad, a lot actually, but what your dad didn’t know was that Nanase had kissed you behind the equipment shed before almost every practice.

High school came with its own challenges. Your dad, still Nanase’s coach, watched him like a hawk.

“If you’re friends with my daughter, that’s fine,” your dad told him one day after practice, his tone firm. “But no dating. Got it?”

Nanase nodded obediently, but behind closed doors, nothing changed. If anything, your relationship only deepened.

One night during a particularly bad storm, you heard a faint tapping at your window. Nervously, you peeked out and saw Nanase standing there, drenched from head to toe.

“What are you doing?!” you whispered harshly as you opened the window, helping him climb inside.

“I figured you’d be scared,” he said, dripping water onto your floor.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you tossed him a towel. “You’re insane, you know that?”

He changed into the spare clothes you kept hidden for him, and the two of you curled up under your blankets. When the thunder roared, you gripped his arm tightly, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

By morning, the storm had passed, but the real trouble came when your dad knocked on your door.

“Sweetie?” he called, opening the door before you could answer.

You stood by your closet, your face burning red. “H-Hi, Dad!”

He frowned. “You’re all sweaty. You sick?”

“Nope! Just… couldn’t sleep because of the storm,” you stammered.

He nodded, eyeing you for a moment before leaving. The second the door shut, you opened your closet, and Nanase tumbled out, laughing quietly.

“You gotta go,” you whispered, trying not to laugh yourself.

Nanase grinned, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you. See you at school.”

When the Blue Lock letter arrived, you were sitting on Nanase’s bed, textbooks spread out as you studied together.

He opened the envelope, his eyes widening as he read the words.

“What is it?” you asked, sitting up straighter.

He handed you the letter, and your jaw dropped. “Nanase, this is amazing!”

But he didn’t look as thrilled as you expected.

“What about you?” he asked quietly. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Your excitement faltered as the reality hit you. If he went, things would change.

“Oh,” you murmured.

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to,” he said quickly, his voice filled with worry.

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “Don’t be stupid. This is your dream.”

“It’s not worth it if I lose you,” he whispered, his fingers brushing yours.

“You won’t,” you promised, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Blue Lock was unlike anything Nanase had ever experienced. The training was brutal, the pressure relentless, and the competition cutthroat. Yet, through all of it, he never took off the bracelet you made for him before he left—a simple cord with your favorite colors braided together.

At first, no one noticed it. But one day in the locker room, one of his teammates, a tall striker with a loud mouth and a knack for teasing, spotted it while Nanase was getting changed.

“Yo, Nanase,” the striker said, pointing at his wrist. “What’s with the bracelet? Got a girlfriend or something?”

Nanase froze for a moment, caught off guard. “Uh…”

The striker grinned, sensing an opportunity. “Oh, you do have a girlfriend. What, did she make that for you? That’s cute.”

Nanase turned red, instinctively pulling his wrist close to his chest. “It’s none of your business,” he mumbled.

But the striker wasn’t letting up. “Come on, man. Don’t be shy. What’s the deal? Is it like a good luck charm or something?”

Nanase tried to ignore him, but the teasing continued. Finally, something snapped.

“Yeah, she made it for me,” Nanase said, his voice louder than usual. “She spent hours on it, making sure it was perfect, even though I told her she didn’t have to. She’s the most supportive person I’ve ever known. She’s been there for me since we were kids—every practice, every game, cheering me on, even when I didn’t believe in myself. This bracelet reminds me of her and everything I’m fighting for here. So yeah, it’s important to me. You got a problem with that?”

The locker room went silent.

The striker blinked, stunned by the outburst, before muttering, “Damn, man. I wish I hadn’t asked.”

Nanase sighed, his face burning, but he didn’t regret a single word. Later that night, as he lay in his bunk, he twisted the bracelet around his wrist, a small smile tugging at his lips. Thinking of you gave him strength.

The U-20 match was the biggest stage Nanase had ever stepped onto. The stadium lights burned bright, illuminating the field where some of the best players in the country were battling it out. Nanase’s heart raced as he stood on the sidelines, watching the chaos unfold.

He didn’t get much playing time, and deep down, he felt a pang of disappointment. He wanted to prove himself—not just to the world but to you, the one who had always believed in him.

When the coach finally called his name, his pulse quickened. He stepped onto the field, taking his position.

The match was intense, every second a blur of movement, strategy, and noise. Nanase didn’t score a goal, but he played his heart out, assisting a crucial pass that led to one. The crowd roared, and though it wasn’t his name they were chanting, he felt a surge of pride.

When the final whistle blew, signaling Blue Lock’s victory, he stood on the field, chest heaving as the adrenaline slowly faded.

And then he saw you.

You were running onto the field, weaving through the crowd of players until you reached him. Without a second thought, you threw your arms around him, holding him tightly.

“You were amazing,” you said, your voice filled with pride.

Nanase hesitated. “I didn’t do much,” he said quietly, his eyes downcast. “I wasn’t even on the field for most of it.”

You pulled back, your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t say that. You made a difference. You played your heart out. That’s what matters.”

He smiled, a little sheepishly, but his chest felt lighter.

“Nanase.”

The sound of your dad’s voice made both of you freeze. You turned, seeing him standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

“Sir,” Nanase said quickly, stepping back from you. “I’m glad you came.”

Your dad didn’t say anything at first, just stared at the two of you. Finally, he spoke. “I’m not stupid, boy.”

Nanase swallowed hard.

“But,” your dad continued, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “you’ve made me proud today. Just don’t forget what I said—don’t hurt her.”

Nanase nodded quickly, relief flooding his face. “I won’t. I promise.”

Your dad gave a short nod before walking away, leaving the two of you standing there.

Nanase turned to you, his hand finding yours. “Did that just happen?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “I think he’s finally on your side.”

Nanase smiled, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. He might not have been the star of the match, but to you—and now, apparently, to your dad—he was more than enough.

As you walked off the field together, the stadium lights casting long shadows, Nanase tightened his grip on your hand, silently vowing to keep proving himself—not just as a player but as the person who would always be worthy of your love.

idc if he's underrated, i will write for him til the cows come home

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics that are hidden gems - amazing fics that have been a bit overlooked and as of the time I made this rec have less than 200 kudos - as requested in an ask that Tumblr has whisked into the abyss. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

💎 Into the Weeds by kair0sclerosis

(M, 87k, small town au) With the help of the captivating bartender, Louis, who he can’t seem to stop daydreaming about, and his enchanting group of friends; Harry remembers what it is to be alive. This is a story about small-town secrets, found family, queer identities, and the battle between fight and flight.

💎 don't be afraid to love (and love again) by localopa / @voulezloux

(E, 83k, angst) the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

💎 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo

(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

💎 Your A-Team, Your Endgame by @silverkiiwii

(E, 70k, reality show au) a Next In Fashion au where Louis and Harry are partnered in the competition but they do not get along when they have to if they want to win. Full of fashion, banter, misunderstanding and a whole lot of making each other blush.

💎  Suddenly Last Summer by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 44k, mystery) Suddenly he has someone who listens to him and cares about what he thinks. Someone who really sees him. But their happily ever after is forever marred by an incident at a party during Labor Day weekend, and Louis is left with a choice to make.

💎 Train Tracks and Porcelain by @jaerie

(E, 41k, historical circus au) Shadows were forming into people and things and, there in the middle of it, Louis watched the humongous head of an elephant emerge from a box car right in front of his eyes. Or a Water For Elephants inspired AU

💎 Mind of Stone by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 41k, mythology au) He needs to find a way back home, and then figure out what the fuck happened at the bar tonight.

💎 time to buy and time to lose by 5sexualhomos / @hogwartzlou

(T, 25k, time travel) Over the years, Harry’s father has played many pranks on him, but this is a whole new level. Where did he even come up with this idea? An AU based on the movie About Time.

💎 From Christiania with love by @sweariwouldnt

(NR, 18k, friends to enemies to lovers) It's Louis' first field training day as a future police officer. It doesn't quite go to his plan. Or, maybe, it goes exactly to some bigger plan.

💎 Camboy on Lockdown (series) by @reminiscingintherain

(E, 12k, camboy Louis) While Louis was working on the final draft of his thesis for his Master's, the world went into lockdown around him without him realising. Now he's trapped in student accommodation, and needs a way to earn some money...

💎 it's time to find your wings again by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 12k, prison guard Louis) His fascination for supernatural creatures had turned into something most closely resembling loathing over the years, due to the many stories of their evildoing, and although he still doesn’t believe in hanging them for their crimes, he does believe in keeping the town safe.

💎 Heart of a Lion (With Metal in His Teeth) by graceling_in_a_suit

(M, 8k, sci fi) Harry is an Android. Louis is his target: a revolutionary leader trying to free his people.

💎 Grow as We Go by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 7k, breakup) a fic about growing up and choosing each other.

💎 But he talks like a gentleman by fondlelarry / @fondofstyles

(NR, 7k, humor) “I had a few too many drinks, ate a bad kebab, rang a bunch of doorbells till someone let me in, vomited in his toilet, stole his orange juice and crashed on his sofa. He woke me up with breakfast though, so I’d say it’s alright.”

💎  What we parted ways with by louisismycat / @liminalkittyfics

(M, 6k, exes) Alpha Harry is surprised to see omega Louis at his matchmaker’s cocktail party for millionaires. Years ago when they were together, Louis loathed schmoozefests with rich people.

💎 Pretty and Preposterous by @brightlyharry

(NR, 5k, neighbors) Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.

💎 old macdonald had a farm by vintagehistories / @adoredontour

(NR, 5k, animal direction) Louis is a hedgehog, Harry is a fish, Niall is a parrot, Liam is a golden retriever, and Zayn is Zayn. It’s a crazy twenty-four hours.

💎 Dirty Diana by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 3k, kink) In the month leading up to his 30th birthday, Harry writes to his confidante Diana every day, sharing his fantasies about Louis.

💎 Pussy Juice by @homosociallyyours

(M, 3k, girl direction) While she manages to dodge the bar's "special" drink, the Pussy Juice shot, she can't avoid the feelings that come up when her former teacher (and teen crush), Louis joins her and her friends for the night.

💎 the blue never-ending sky by @justanothershadeofblue

(T, 3k, epistolary) “Arizona?” Louis asked, and Harry made an affirmative noise from his position on top of his twin bed. “Wouldn’t know, would I?”

💎 Harry, That Kills People by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 2k, organized crime/crack) If there’s one thing that Harry hates, it’s getting his clothes dirty. If there’s one other thing that Harry hates, it’s murder.

💎 As Luck Would Have It by @justalittlelouislove

(T, 2k, humor) We've all experienced the trials and tribulations of technology. Louis is sabotaged by a bit of unhelpful autocorrect, but maybe luck is on his side after all.

💎 If I Can't Have You by Janie_17

(T, 2k, fwb) After Harry turns him down, going out for Karaoke is the last thing Louis wants to do, but his friends are persuasive. When Harry shows up with Nick Grimshaw in tow, his evening goes from bad to worse. But will his choice of song manage to turn things around?

💎 Needle by @nouies

(NR, 666 words, fantasy) “You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered between hiccups. “She didn’t have the right.”

💎 Insomnis by @kingsofeverything

(NR, 500 words, science fiction) Harry’s been having trouble sleeping. Louis makes everything better.

- Rare Pairs -

💎 Eight Days by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 22k, Liam/Louis) Louis and Liam got hitched in Vegas, completely forgot about it for more than a decade, and it comes back to bite them. Sort of.

💎 You Are A Song by @lululawrence

(NR, 3k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) To Louis, Nick felt like poetry in motion. He was a bit of chaos surrounding Louis’ otherwise monotonous days, and Louis was quickly becoming addicted.

💎 get my kicks like you by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 3k, OT5) “Wait,” Liam had said. “You all jerked it at Niall’s?”

💎 Ink on Your Fingers, Ink on My Skin by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

(E, 1k, Zayn/Liam) Liam gets tattoos for the thrill of it.

[theoceanandthestars]

Friendly Lies

A/N: This is my first post/story, I’ve written before on Wattpad but never committed to writing but I feel like this is something I can actually commit too. Let me know any NCIS requests and I’m hoping to open up my writing to other fandoms soon too. This is definitely a testament to my ability to yap. Apologies for any mistakes :)

Also, I know the timelines probably don’t match up in terms of Gibbs knowing Tobias etc and Tobias having another daughter, or maybe they do, I don’t know but I thought it was a fun idea so belief will just have to be suspended. ;)

NCIS y/n fanfic, slight y/n x tony dinozzo, tony dinozzo x reader

Word count: 1969

Summary: Fornell’s daughter, Gibbs' Goddaughter, is an FBI agent working a case with her father and Godfather and decides to help get her dad to leave McGee alone after he found him asleep on the sofa with his ex-wife (I loved that episode so much) at Tony’s expense.

____________________________________________

You’d only known Tim, Tony and Ziva for a few weeks but already you knew you’d be great friends. After only knowing them for 5 minutes the day you ended up sharing a case with both your father and godfather, you were making plans to hang out with them. Your godfather, or your Uncle Gibbs as you preferred to call him, was of course more than happy to see you and be working with you, although the protective dad act from the NCIS and FBI agents had driven you slightly insane. Although you loved the rare times when you and your father shared an FBI case, that time had made you nearly want to quit, which had driven you straight to Gibbs’ team, who were more than welcoming and friendly to you.

Now, you sat on Ziva’s desk, chatting to her and McGee while your father and godfather interrogated a suspect and Tony watched.

‘And that’s why your dad hates me’, concluded McGee after explaining to you what he described as the ‘incident’ between your dad and his ex-wife Diane.  Both you and Ziva had been laughing the entire time he told the story.

‘I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Tim’, you smiled at him ‘he’s only mentioned it a few times.’

‘A few?’ Tim asked in horror, causing Ziva to snort in laughter. This topic had taken up a good 20 minutes and it had clearly been playing on his mind for a long time before that.

‘Look if you want me to talk to him I can’ you offered, trying to ease Tim’s obvious panic, but your offer only seemed to send McGee into a further state of pure anxiety.

‘No, absolutely not, that would only add to it.’ He spoke moving his chair slightly as it was currently situated next to Ziva’s desk where you were congregated. As Tim moved you gaze shifted to DiNozzo’s desk and an idea popped into your head.

‘McGee, I’m sure y/n’s right, Fornell can’t be holding on to a grudge for that long.’

‘He brings it up every time we see him!’ Tim insisted.

‘Hang on’ you quickly said jumping up from Ziva’s desk and captivating both agent’s attention, ‘I think I know how to get my dad to forget about you and Diane.’

‘First of all there was no me and Diane’ Tim quickly insisted, causing the pair of female agents to roll their eyes as they failed to hold in their laughs ‘But what’s the idea because I will do anything to make him stop bringing it up?’. Both agents’ gazes were fixed on you as you moved from Ziva’s desk to sit on Tonys.

‘Oh you wouldn’t have to do anything McGee, it would be all me’, you smirked as the two agents watched eagerly, ‘this isn’t entirely selfless though, remember when Tony told Gibbs and my dad that I’d been sleeping with an NCIS agent to try and piss them off? And it took me weeks to convince them he was just trying to mess with me and them?’, the two NCIS agents nodded, smirks growing on their faces as they pieced together what you were planning to do, ‘well I think it’s time I get Tony back for that, don’t you?’.

Just as you said this your father and Gibbs reappeared into the room and as they did, you got up from Tony’s desk and made a beeline for them, meeting them just in front of Gibbs’ desk.

‘Dad, Uncle Gibbs I need to talk to you’ you said, grabbing their attention in the most serious and anxious voice you could muster, grabbing one of their hands in each of yours, ‘I know this is really important and I want to be honest with you both’ you took a deep breath to highlight your nervousness. At this point you had captured your father’s and Godfather’s attention, squeezing their hands as you raised your eyes to meet theirs you finally said, ‘I’m pregnant.’

Now Ziva and Tim were clearly shocked and impressed by your lies, hiding their laughter surprisingly well and instead adorning looks of shock and intrigue. Your father and godfather on the other hand, with hands still held by yours, were looking at you with such pure shock your father had turned slightly white. Before they could even utter a word, you quickly continued, ‘and its Tony’s’.

At this revelation, McGee and Ziva quickly turned so that Gibbs and Fornell couldn’t see the laughter that was daring to burst out. The silence was quickly broken by a synchronised ‘WHAT?’ from the two men who held your hands. Their gazes had turned harsher, but you knew that if you wanted this to have the best effect you had to really milk it.

‘I know we haven’t known each other long’ you stated looking them both in the eyes, but were quickly interrupted by your father half shouting, ‘How did this happen?’, quickly followed by Gibbs’ ‘I’m sorry what?!’

Before you could think of an answer though everyone’s attention was diverted in the sound of a voice, Tony’s voice, ‘hey boss. Fornell.  You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what did y/n do? Tell you she’s pregnant? I told you she was sleeping with an NCIS agent.’, as he Tony laughed at his own joke, Tony sauntered towards his desk, but only for a second before Fornell was on him, pinning him to the wall. Tony’s face quickly shifted to panic and confusion, his eyes scanning the room.

‘You got my daughter pregnant!’, Fornell shouted.

‘What? No’ DiNozzo squeaked out as Gibbs removed Fornell from him, freeing him from the wall. You quickly shifted your eyes to where Tim and Ziva were still at Ziva’s desk, attempting to contain their laughter. You knew you didn’t have long before the two of them blew the prank, but you also knew that the damage would be done soon enough and you would have got Tony back and your dad would definitely forget about finding McGee and Diane on the sofa asleep together.

Suddenly Tony rushed over to you seeking some sort of explanation or help but before he could squeak out another word, you grabbed his arm hugging it slightly and turning the pair of you to face Gibbs and Tobias.

‘Me and Tony are in love, dad, you can’t stop our love’ but as you got to the end of your sentence McGee and Ziva had burst into full belly laughter, causing you too to crack and lean on Tony as you couldn’t stop laughing. As the three of you continued to laugh, Gibbs only rolled his eyes at your antics, shaking his head slightly and letting out a slight chuckle. He knew that DiNozzo had told Tobias that you were sleeping with someone at the agency to piss him off and he also knew that your dad had practically become a helicopter parent for a week after he had done so.

As Gibbs moved back towards his desk, you patted tony on the chest before calming yourself enough to say, ‘you should have seen your face’. Quickly, McGee walked behind you both to return to his desk, slapping Tony on the back as he continued to laugh at Tony’s expense. He stopped by your side quickly whispering to you how he was now free from any comments about Diane. Your gaze then shifted to your father who still stood in front of you both, surprisingly quite but glaring at you both.

‘Gotta keep you young dad.’ You smiled at him, kissing his check and moving back to Ziva’s desk, the pair of you still giggling and smiling. Your dad however, kept his gaze on Tony, glowering at him, as Tony seemed to continue to shrink under his glare, still looking stunned and scared. Finally his gaze shifted as Gibbs called him telling him to go down to autopsy to see Abby with him.

At first he didn’t move, continuing to stare, before finally moving when he heard his name shouted by Gibbs. ‘I still don’t trust you DiNozzo.’ Tobias said, finally moving towards Gibbs’ desk, his gaze remaining on Tony until they were out of site.

At this point you, McGee and Ziva all began to laugh again with the same force you did when your dad had pinned Tony to the wall.

‘I did not think you would take it that far’ commented Ziva, ‘I admire your commitment’. You smiled at her amongst the laughter but couldn’t respond as tony too moved towards Ziva’s desk, where McGee had now joined you and began to stare at you all.

‘Not funny guys, I thought I was going to die!’, Tony’s statement only caused more laughter though, as his hand reached his neck, fiddling with his shirt collar even though your father had only grabbed his shoulders. Finally you spoke through the laughter, ‘I told you I was going to get you back Tony and McGee needed by dad to lay off him about the whole thing with my ex stepmother, so really I was just helping a friend’ you smiled a sickly sweet smile at him before the phone at his desk began to ring causing Tony to quickly scurry over to his desk, grabbing the phone before answering.

‘Yes boss?’ he questioned into the phone, as you high fived Tim and Ziva, ‘right away boss’, followed by him quickly grabbing his things after he put down the phone. ‘Gibbs says Abby’s matched the ballistics from the gun, wants me and Y/N to bring in the suspect.’ He stated as he continued to gather his stuff. As you listened, you quickly grabbed your bag that was sat next to Gibbs’ desk, but before you could leave Gibbs and your father returned, arguing as they walked.

‘I’ll go with DiNozzo Gibbs’ your dad argued, his gaze landing on Tony, at which point Tony swallowed.

‘No you’re not’, Gibbs deadpanned.

‘Then, I’ll go with them both’ he stated as he moved towards the pair now standing together with their bags, but not before Gibbs grabbed his shoulder directing him towards the director’s office and repeating ‘No you’re not’.

As you and Tony turned and began to walk towards the elevator, he quickly began to argue with you. ‘You know your dad is going to kill me, right?’ he questioned as you pressed the elevator button, your gaze shifting to him.

‘No he won’t’ you dismissed, ‘but he won’t trust you for a while, just like how he’s been hovering over me for weeks after you told him I was secretly sleeping with someone at your office, or like how he constantly brings up that time he found Diane and McGee together asleep. I guess it’s just time for you to get a taste of what we’ve been putting up with for years now.’ You smirked as the elevator reached your floor and you stepped inside, turning slightly as you watched Tony’s face change from looking like he was about to argue, to just giving up.

‘You know’, he turned to look at you, smirking, fully grasping your attention, ‘if you were to sleep with anyone in this office, I’d be the perfect guy. You’ve already told your dad and although he’ll keep glaring at me and probably wanting to kill me, he’d never suspect that we were actually sleeping together.’ He said, waggling his eyebrows at you as you chuckled, and he reciprocated your laughter.

As the elevator doors, reopened on the ground floor, you turned away from Tony, shaking your head slightly and rolling your eyes , before simply stating, ‘In your dreams DiNozzo’ before walking out of the elevator, not missing Tony’s whispered reply, ‘oh you bet’, before he followed you out to find your suspect.

[diorsluv]

infrunami (lh⁴³)

❝ in which you’ve always been in love with your childhood best friend, but he would always be the right person at the wrong time ❞

wc: 5.8k

warnings: god there’s so much angst, reader is kinda inconsistent, mentions of blood/injury, mutual pining, idiots in love, running away from “rejection”, reader is touchy with jack and besties with quinn, no use of y/n, if i missed any lmk!!

notes ) when i tell you this took me WEEKS and WEEKS just to compile a simple 5k fic.. i think it’s kinda obvious where i stopped and started back up but i tried to blend it in as best i could!! this will be a two parter simply because i was draining myself trying to drag it on, so stay tuned (might take a while)! AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST thank you to my wonderful, amazing, supportive wife @dior-roses for beta reading this (i was terrified)

As a kid, you always moved wherever the Hughes moved—it was something about the bond between your fathers that couldn’t keep your families apart for more than a week. Regardless of how many times you moved, you never felt alone. You and Luke were in the same grade, and Quinn and Jack were always looking out for you two, so isolation was never a concern for you.

Although you were inseparable with Luke, Quinn had always been your best friend. The four-year age difference between the two of you was almost invisible, and throughout your youth, you would always find yourself in his room, staring at the ceiling as you talked about everything. 

You would tell him about your silly school girl crushes, and he would ramble to you about hockey and all the petty drama that happened around him. In fact, he was the reason you learned hockey in the first place. Your father could never keep your attention on the sport for over five minutes, but the way Quinn talked about it so lovingly was what motivated you to step on the ice. 

Your love for hockey spurred your relationship with not only Quinn, but also Luke and Jack, to grow closer than ever. Every day in school, you and Luke would gush about the games you had watched the night prior, and every day after school, all four of you would head off to practice for your respective club teams. If you weren’t already inseparable from the way your families were bound together by an invisible rope, then you were forever connected through hockey. 

You quit after a few years to pursue more academic routes, but the sport never left your spirit. There were many occasions where the boys would refuse to play if you weren’t there, simply because your presence was the only thing to motivate them to get on the ice, especially if they were having a bad week.

Somehow, though, along the way, you caught feelings. Feelings that were far too heavy to have just surfaced from the depths of your heart. No, what you felt for Luke seemed to have always been creeping just between the line of what was certain and what was unknown. There was no other explanation as to why you couldn’t handle being in the same room as him without being on the verge of exploding. There was no other reason as to why you could spend months on end with either of his brothers but couldn’t last one minute sitting beside him. 

As soon as you came to that revelation, you were done for. It was over. You would rather die than acknowledge the feelings you caught for the boy that had been by your side since you were born. Because of that, you spent all your time with your best friend and his younger brother, and both your families sensed the shift as soon as it happened.

Especially Luke.

Oh, the poor boy, his heart dropped into his stomach when he realized you were avoiding him. You held your breath every time he stepped into the same room as you, let alone when he tried to stand remotely close to you. You diverted your attention away from him as much as you could, and the boy you once knew as your other half now seemed to be universes away. 

It was your doing, but in a way, it was his. How dare he make you fall for him? It wasn’t fair. Not to you, and definitely not to him. It wasn’t fair how he could make you fold in seconds with the way he looked at you from the other side of the room but simultaneously have a girl wrapped around his arm trying to take all his attention away from you. He was the only boy on your mind, but he always managed to push you to the darkest parts of his brain, putting you on hold when the more important girls were right in front of him. 

If only you knew. 

Quinn bounded down the stairs of your lake house, which was conveniently right next to the Hughes’, with an old framed photo in his hand. “Hah! I was right!” His exclamations took your attention away from the pasta you were cooking as you now turned to his self-righteous figure. “You would never let go of that stupid plushie.”

The two of you were arguing over what (and who) you were and were not inseparable with just prior to his search for the picture, and he claimed there were multiple photos of you hugging your favorite Elmo plushie. There was a mutual agreement that Luke was one of the things—or rather, people—you couldn’t fathom to be away from, but neither you nor Quinn had to verbally confirm it. There was no need. 

And, to be completely honest, Quinn had barely spoken about his youngest brother throughout the time you’d been spending at the lake houses. A few years back, you had reluctantly told him how you felt about Luke, and ever since then, he’d made it his mission to make you feel the most comfortable you could possibly be whilst sharing a connected lake house with the boy you’ve loved since you were children. The eldest saw the way you tensed up when you recognized his brother’s footsteps creaking down the stairs when it came time to eat breakfast, and he sure as hell saw the way your eyes blew wide whenever you accidentally made contact with him. 

It scared you how much Quinn seemed to notice about you, especially since he and his brothers were all busy with their demanding careers that left little to no time to be tending to some childhood friend who was stuck with a crush on the most recently debuted boy. Yes, he was still your best friend (that much hadn’t changed since your childhood), but all you could do was FaceTime each other, and even then, it was difficult to find time. It was the same with Jack; sometimes, they would be too tired for practice; other times, they would be exhausted from a home game and possibly frustrated had they lost; and most of the time, they weren’t even home, so the time difference, albeit miniscule, was still difficult to navigate considering you were a busy person too. 

That meant that you met up as much as you could and you stuck by each other’s side until you were forced apart by the demands of being a professional hockey player. All that time together when you were younger meant you struggled to be without each other as you got older—maybe your parents should’ve realized that, but then again, it was probably their intention. 

“Okay, I did let go of it. Multiple times, actually,” you refuted with a small frown, the expression on your face practically meaningless as your best friend laughed. It only egged him on further, evoking a complaint from your lips. “Quinn! It’s not funny!” 

“I mean, it kinda is.” He struggled to stifle his laughter as he rounded the kitchen island to stand beside you. Your hand mindlessly dragged the wooden spoon through the soft noodles floating around in the boiling hot water, and he wondered how your skin wasn’t burning. Gently removing your hand from the utensil and replacing it with his own, the eldest Hughes boy continued his teasing once he looked at your still-upset face. “You’re such a kid sometimes, you know that?”

Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head in annoyance. Quinn always said that to you. Always. He never failed to address you as ‘kid,’ and no matter what you did, he always managed to bring it back to how you ‘were such a kid.’ You huffed, “You’re so fucking annoying, Quinny. I’m gonna go piss off Jack. Keep cooking, and if you burn the house down, you’re paying for all of it.” 

“You’re forgetting I’m a millionaire.” His laughter filled your ears once again, and your only response was the finger you lifted at him over your shoulder.

After walking out of the kitchen of your own lake house, you took a few strides over to the sliding doors that led to the connected portion of your two homes. Your father and Jim had built it together, way back when all four of you were far too young to understand what normal lake houses were supposed to look like. It was essentially a screened-in sunroom overlooking the absolute beauty of a lake out front. They managed to hook up a large, flat-screen television on the wall, throwing a couple bean bag chairs and a rug into the room. The rest of the furnishing was left completely up to you and the Hughes brothers, so the furniture would change up every few visits. 

Oftentimes, you would find Luke there, just sitting against the one wall that had a bit of a bump-out. He liked the way it felt against his back, like it actually supported him compared to the fluffy chairs that laid in the middle of the room. Whether he be on his phone, playing video games, or reading a book that was required for summer class, he would always be in the sunroom. The floor directly before the bump-out was much more worn compared to the rest of the room, the discolored wood showing just how often the youngest Hughes would find himself in the confines of the area.

There were many times when Luke would flee to the sunroom in his times of need, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. If anyone were to try to enter the room and speak to him, he wouldn’t respond. He would only ever talk to you. You were the one and only person to talk him out of his thoughts, the only one who could convince him to leave the room. Those nights were comprised of him refusing to leave your bed and whining if you got up in the middle of the night. 

You missed it. 

But you weren’t kids anymore. And, again, it was your fault you weren’t close anymore. You deliberately distanced yourself from him. 

After pulling yourself away from your own thoughts, you tugged the Hughes’ sliding door open, the smell of freshly grilled shrimp welcoming you into the cozy house.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ellen’s soothing voice called out to you, smiling at you from her place at the kitchen sink. “How’s the pasta going?” The sound of the running water could barely be heard over the hockey game playing on the television, your father entertaining Jim and his youngest son with light chirps towards the losing team. 

You could feel Luke’s eyes set on you. Shrugging, you replied, “I told Quinny to take over and not burn the house down.” 

This was a regular occurrence whenever you came back to the lake for the break. You, your mother and Ellen would split up the food duties so that there was a lot of food but didn’t take too much time to cook everything. Quinn and Jack would help out a bit, but they would only ever take on the physical tasks. Luke used to help out when you were children, but ever since the distance you wedged between the two of you, he stopped helping out as much. 

You looked around for Jack, trying your hardest to avoid Luke’s gaze in your search for his older brother. Ellen had now returned to her cooking, and the fathers were too invested in their conversation for you to intervene. Your eyes were darting everywhere but at your ex-best friend, and as soon as you made eye contact, you couldn’t look away.

It was too difficult.

It was so stupid.

It wasn’t fair. 

His hazel eyes were too pretty. The way he looked at you made it hard to deny him the satisfaction of giving him attention. He looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon, but you couldn’t see that. You were blinded by your abundance of self-deprecating thoughts to notice. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, voice being drowned out due to the other activities occurring throughout the house. You mouthed the same word back, fighting the urge to walk over to him and apologize for avoiding him, apologize for distancing yourself from the one person you know you could never live without. If you allowed yourself to break, you would never forgive yourself. He doesn’t like you back, you told yourself. You can’t embarrass yourself.

So, instead of going with your heart, you went with your brain and made your way upstairs. If Jack wasn’t downstairs, then he had to have been upstairs doing God knows what. 

“Jack?” You called out, running your hand along the railing of the staircase once you neared the top. 

“In here!” His muffled voice came through the door to his bedroom, and you’ve seen him in enough compromising positions to the point where you couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to be cautious. Once you opened the door, you were met with four gazes planted straight on you. You suddenly felt exposed despite your thick pajamas and only felt some sort of reassurance when you found Jack’s eyes. “Look who finally came up here!”

All four boys sat on Jack’s bed with controllers in their hands, the game on the TV now paused as their attention focused solely on you. You knew Trevor, Alex, and Cole, but you hadn’t seen them in so long that it felt awkward. “Oh, uh, hey. Quinn’s probably gonna burn my house down and I didn’t wanna be down there with Lukey, so,” you trailed off, pursing your lips. 

“You’re still on that?” Alex questioned with furrowed eyebrows, placing the controller in his lap. You cocked your head to the side, not quite understanding what the boy was talking about. He continued, “I thought you got over him, like, months ago.”

Right. You had forgotten all about your accidental drunk confession the last time Jack’s friends were over. Last summer, your revelation was fresh on your mind, and you and Luke were still as inseparable as ever. His friends had also visited the lake house at the same time everyone else was staying over, so it made for a ton of chaos and little to no privacy. 

Luke and his friends had left the house to go out, and for the first time, you stayed behind. Trevor and Cole were sitting at the fire pit outside, beers in their hands as they discussed the upcoming camps they were to attend. You were on your fifth drink, and although Jack was keeping an eye on you, he hadn’t noticed how you had accidentally walked into the bathroom while Alex was in the process of throwing up. 

In the midst of your tipsy daze and the fact that it just so happened to be Luke’s bathroom, you called out for him. “Luke? Is that you? You know I’m always telling you not to drink that much, stupid.” You used your foot to shut the door behind you as you placed your drink onto the counter. 

Alex, confused but sobering up, looked up at you with puffy eyes. Only then did he notice how you were much more than tipsy. 

Your gaze was blurry and your words were beginning to slur, “If I didn’t like you so much, maybe I would be more mad at you. I don’t know why I like you, anyway. You’re always being so stupid, ‘cause you can’t see that all those girls are only ever using you for your brother or your body. They’re so mean. And I’m your best friend, not them! You always ditch me when you find another girl, and then they say shit about me behind my back. I don’t like them. What do you even see in them? God, what do I even see in you?

“My stomach hurts. I think I’m thinking about this too much. Or maybe I’m thinking about you too much. I hate you so much, Lukey, but I can’t ever hate you. You’re too pretty. This is so unfair and my head is pounding. Oh, God, I’m gonna throw up. Move over.” After your little monologue, which was definitely not directed towards the person on the receiving end, you were quick to fall to the ground beside the toilet and dip your head past the ceramic seat. 

Alex brought his right hand up to flush the toilet so you didn’t accidentally stuff your face in a load of his vomit, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on your back. “‘m not Luke, but you’re safe with me.” He continued his motions throughout the five-minute duration of your illness, bringing his hand up to massage your head once you were sure you were done.

Your head was pounding and your ears began to ring, but you were visibly more sober compared to how you were a few minutes ago. Barely able to lift your head, you thanked your friend with a weak smile.

He only returned your expression and brought you up to your feet, leading you out of the restroom and towards Jack’s room. It obviously wasn’t the best option to bring you to Luke’s room, albeit being the default room after a long night, so his older brother’s bedroom would have to do. 

Alex laid you down onto the mattress and tucked you in, lightly patting your cheek as you thanked him once more. He only chuckled and squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Anytime.”

And then you were left alone in the confines of Jack’s room.

You chuckled awkwardly at the memory, shaking your head in response. “Nope. Still on it.” Your hands brought themselves up to your thighs, rubbing your palms against your thick pants in an attempt to wipe away the tension in the room.

Trevor and Cole were aware of your feelings as well; you were sure everyone in the house knew. They only shot you sympathetic smiles, their priorities set on finishing the NHL 23 game plastered all over the screen. 

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“We believe in you.”

Their words, no offense, meant nothing to you. They were great people to hang around, but they weren’t the best guys to turn to when you were in a time of need, especially since you weren’t very close to them. They had their own issues that didn’t concern you, and your issues were ever so far from their minds.

After a few beats of silence, the mood of the room began to slowly eat away at you. If you were to open your mouth and bite down, you might as well have taken a chunk out of the thick tension lingering in the room. It was even more awkward knowing that Luke was much closer to them compared to you, and you knew they would let things slip eventually. 

Not that he didn’t already know, though.

The four boys exchanged glances with one another, shrugging in unison before resuming their gameplay. You took it as your cue to stay, seeing as they didn’t seem bothered by your presence, and you were much more comfortable in Jack’s room than you were downstairs. 

Allowing yourself to flop onto the boy’s soft mattress, you fished your phone out from the pocket of your pajama pants, finding solace in the way the friends laughed with each other. You remained like that for about twenty minutes before Jack beckoned you over to the edge of his bed, where he was sitting, to ask you for your opinion on something.

After dishing him your thoughts—which barely seemed to help him—you stayed snug at the foot of the bed, extending your legs out so that they lay atop his. It was one of your more typical positions when spending time with Jack whilst he was playing video games. Whether it be with his friends or with his brothers, you always found yourself comfortably overlapping your limbs with him, and today was no exception. 

You both shuffled around a bit until you found a comfortable position. You sat with your legs resting on his thighs and your head laying on his shoulder; he sat with his forearms resting on your left leg. The others paid no mind to your odd positioning, their minds too preoccupied with the competitiveness flooding through the screen. 

So you stayed like that for a while. For a long while, actually. You only lifted your head when the sound of light knocking echoed against Jack’s door once more, and soon after, you found his youngest brother cracking the door open and peeking through. 

His eyes had yet to land on your figure. “Hey, Mom’s looking for—”

Before he could utter your name, he looked you dead in the eye. 

“Oh.” He went silent for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between you and his brother. Him, of all people, should be the least surprised to see you cuddled up with Jack. “You.”

There was a certain poison in his tone that struck you right where it hurt the most. It was the way he spat through gritted teeth and looked at you with so much indifference. (It was really a façade, but you were too entranced under his gaze to realize that he could never bring himself to hate you.) The whole room seemed to shift uncomfortably with the way the tension flowed between you and Luke. 

No matter how hard you tried to mask your pain and your desperation for him to notice you, you would never be able to hide how you really felt. Not with him. 

“You can tell her I’ll be right down,” you murmured, slowly moving your legs from Jack’s lap, but before you could even finish your sentence, Luke disappeared as quickly as he came. When you looked back in the door frame, all you were met with was a blank wall and the faint image of where the boy stood before.

You could feel Jack lightly pat your thigh, trying his hardest to support you with the little attention he was diverting toward you. With a small sigh, you pushed yourself off the mattress and wiped your palms against the fabric of your pants, reluctantly leaving the room. Alex wished you good luck, but his fleeting words flew straight through one ear and out the other. 

Downstairs, the fathers were still loud as ever, and the sizzling in the kitchen now turned into the delicious aroma of freshly cooked lunch. Quinn’s voice echoed up the staircase, and you could hear how he attempted to entertain his mom as she waited for you to come back down. 

As soon as your feet hit the bottom floor, you could already sense Quinn’s eyes on you. He looked like he was being held hostage, and you could argue that he was begging you for help. He wasn’t the only Hughes boy with his gaze locked on you, but he was the only one you would give attention to.

“Oh, look! Just who you were looking for, Mom,” the eldest boy managed to divert the attention away from him and towards you. You scowled at him just before Ellen turned around, plastering on a smile as you walked towards them.

You gently placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “I was just up in Jack’s room. Luke said you were looking for me?”

“Oh, that’s right! Could you grab that fancy set of plates from the cabinet in your house, sweetie? It’s too high to reach for any of us parents, and you know Lukey and Quinn don’t help out with anything anymore,” Ellen spoke, evoking an argument from her oldest son. It only took one glare from her to shut him up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his complacence. 

You nodded your head with a grin, still fighting more giggles as you swerved past Quinn. He lunged at you, bringing his hands up to your waist as if he was going to tickle you, but you managed to jump just out of his reach before continuing on your journey to grab the plates Ellen wanted. 

Once you made it back into your house, you dragged a chair up to the counter and climbed onto the cushioned seat, opening the cabinet and setting your gaze on the fake fine china. You only grabbed a few at a time, not wanting to break anything in fear of your mother getting mad at you. Eventually, you had gotten down to the last few plates, and once you had them in your hands, you closed the cabinet and stepped down from the chair.

Perhaps you should’ve been more aware of how high you were, because somehow, the bottom plate smashed against the countertop and shattered in your hands, causing you to let out a small scream. The porcelain had broken into small pieces, cutting into your palms, but you managed to place the reset of the plates down before beginning to worry about the amount of cuts you had on your hands. 

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath, looking at the floor to see how many shards were scattered around the floor. Your only form of protection on the soles of your feet were the fluffy socks you were wearing, and the distance between the pieces was far enough to where you could step past them. 

As soon as you deemed it safe to walk normally, you swiveled on your heel to analyze the messy situation you found yourself in. You definitely should have been more careful, and now you had to clean up all the small plate shards with cuts in your hands. Fuck, your hands were still bleeding, and it hadn’t even occurred to you that it was now dripping down your arms. 

All you could do was stand in place, shock still coursing in your veins. The sink on the island was in the middle of the plate murder, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally stepping on something sharp. Before you could even begin to make your way to the half-bath near the kitchen, you heard footsteps bounding through the sunroom. The glass door slid open far too aggressively—so much so that you thought it would shatter, too—and you assumed it was Quinn coming to check on you.

The plate breaking was loud enough to be heard from the other house, especially with the connected room, but you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal for him. You were usually trustworthy enough to not accidentally hurt yourself, but this was a prime example of how you really weren’t.

You didn’t want any questions to be asked, and because it was Quinn, you knew you would get made fun of before being helped. “Don’t worry—”

“Holy shit, are you okay?” The voice that spoke up was not Quinn. 

Immediately snapping your head around to look at the boy standing there, frozen, your frown contorted into a grimace. “Luke—shit—hey,” you trailed off, unsure of what to say to him. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine, I was just being stupid and—”

“What the fuck happened? You’re gonna bleed out if you don’t wash your hands and wrap them up.” His heavy footsteps inched closer and closer until he was standing right in front of you, taking your forearms into his calloused hands and inspecting how bad your injuries were. “C’mon, we gotta wash this off.” 

Luke led you to the bathroom as if it was his own house, running the tap and allowing the water to get most of the red liquid off your hands before taking a clean towel and gently tapping the rest off. 

He was unbearably gentle with you. You felt ashamed to think of how fast your heart was beating at such a simple gesture; as if him caring about you meant anything except the fact that growing up together meant you both cared for each other when someone was hurt. Sighing to hide your true feelings, you slowly took your hands away from his touch, “Luke, I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to do this.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean? Of course I’m going to clean you up if you hurt yourself.” He immediately took your hands back into his and resumed his actions, quickly grabbing ointment from the cabinet above the toilet. Squeezing out a dollop of the cream, he soothingly rubbed it against your wounds with a focused frown adorning his features.

You took the chance to admire him candidly. He was so worried about you, and it was so cute. He wouldn’t even let you take care of yourself because he wanted to do it for you, and he was so serious about it. You had always thought his focused face was adorable, even when you were kids, but as you grew up, it only got cuter and cuter. Fuck, you were so gone for him.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he looked up at you and immediately looked back down at your hands. He cleared his throat awkwardly and questioned, “Does it hurt?” 

“Hm?” You snapped yourself out of your trance, your face heating up with the unexpected eye contact. “Oh, uh, no. It doesn’t hurt.” The pain you were feeling came more from your heart than it did from your body. It hurt to be in such close proximity to the boy you longed so deeply for. The awkward silence floating between the two of you pained you even more. 

Luke nodded and rummaged through the drawers until he found gauze, taking great care to wrap it around your hands without causing you too much discomfort. When he finished, all he did was usher you out of the bathroom with a hand on your lower back, turning off the lights without so much as a word. 

Only when you entered the kitchen did a small mumble leave the boy’s lips. “Try to be more careful next time, okay? Can’t have you going around injuring yourself and shit, or you’re gonna make me—us worry too much.” He cleared his throat after his slip-up, hoping you didn’t hear what he said. You did. “Oh, and Jack told me to let you know the guys are throwing a party tonight. He said to invite you so you could buy cups and shit, but you’re kinda . . . banged up right now.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go grab stuff from the store later—”

“No!” Luke exclaimed, his eyes blowing wide once he realized how loud he protested your suggestion. “I mean, no, it’s okay. I’ll go get the stuff. You shouldn’t drive with your hands all cut up like that. They don't care who buys what.”

You blinked at him. He was acting so weird; it was almost like he cared about you. But it didn’t matter. The others were throwing a party, which meant there were going to be tons of girls all over him, and it wouldn’t be right for you to get mad if you were the one who caused the rift between you two.

With a shrug, you silently agreed to his proposal and turned to grab the remaining set of plates still sitting on the counter. You couldn’t even take two steps before Luke was already sliding ahead of you and taking the ceramic platters into his arms. “Luke, you really don’t have to do all of this. I’m fine, look,” you showed him your hands, front and back, to try and convince him to let you do something. 

“No, you’re hurt. And I wouldn’t be a good best friend if I made you injure yourself more.”

Best friend.

Two very opposing emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, the term ‘best friend’ still sent a pang through your chest, knowing you would never be more to him than just a best friend. But on the other hand, it relieved you to know that he still considered you close enough to be his best friend. 

God, you were such a mess. You were running away from him in fear of rejection, but then you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. What the hell was wrong with you?

Eventually, the two of you made it back into his house, the boy announcing your arrival and placing the plates down onto the dining table. He immediately found his spot back on the couch in between the fathers like before, and you instantly got hounded by both the mothers’ questions being launched at you all at once.

“I’m fine, Mom,” you grimaced. You attempted to pull your hands away from her inspecting gaze, but she brought them right back to her face. “Mom, it doesn’t even hurt anymore! Lukey already put medicine on it and wrapped them up, anyway!” You were growing impatient, and your complaints slowly turned into whines. 

Thankfully, as soon as she heard Luke’s nickname leave your mouth, she dropped your hands back to your sides and grinned widely at you.

“Well, then! I’m sure you’re just fine, aren’t you?”

You sighed begrudgingly. “Yes, Mom.” You were just happy she stopped nagging you.

What you didn’t know was that she and Ellen were in pain watching their two children stay so far away from each other for such a long time. The parents always thought you two would have confessed by the time you graduated high school, but you were in college and Luke was having an amazing rookie season. It clearly didn’t work out the way they thought it would have.

You also didn’t know that Luke’s heart practically exploded out of his chest when he heard you use his nickname so nonchalantly. He always overheard you addressing him as Lukey to his brothers, but you never did it when you knew he was listening. It was almost as if saying it made your mouth run dry. 

And it did.

It finally came time to eat lunch, and your stomach was threatening to growl before you all sat down at the table. Trevor, Alex, and Cole decided to eat at a restaurant instead, encouraging Jack to eat with your families rather than hanging out with them. So he stayed.

There was a specific order in which you sat. There were five members of the Hughes family and three members of your family, meaning there were eight seats total; the rectangular table fit the usual number of people perfectly. The fathers would sit on either end of the table, and the mothers would sit to their right. You and Jack sat next to your mothers, while Luke sat beside you and Quinn beside Jack. 

It was a routine. It never changed. Ever.

Not when Jack kissed you on New Years. He still had to sit opposite to you at the table. Not when you and Luke had the biggest verbal fight in your life, leaving you both with scars on your knees. And especially not when you finally recognized the feelings you had for your best friend.

And as you sat in your spot, with Luke’s thigh pressed against yours, you realized that maybe loving him wasn’t all that bad.

— diorsluv 2024

[missmarveledsblog]

All my life with all my heart ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader )

summary :  tale as old as time man loves woman , woman love man both idiots and blindly obvious til one night it all blows up and truth comes out

warnings : none not really  goofy fluff romcom feels , picture again not description of reader just a sort of chapter , story cover i made .

ever since they were kids when he loved her , his six year old self told pete mitchell that he was going to marry her which got a ribbing and laugh out of all the adult . as they got older that love was more friend like ,she was six years his junior  .one stage both hit different milestone drifting apart than later life reunited she was working in san diego as a medic when he came back to top gun reuniting in the fact they were both pissed at her father yet when she stood listening  to the fact the two men in her life were now gone , jake seresin almost begging to go and her world turned upside down and throwing up as hondo held her in his arms after she almost got herself discharged for nearly pulling cyclone apart. 

then when they came back both not expecting her to slap them in the face to the crowds audibly “ oof”  that rang out or nearly hitting the ground when she dived on two hugging them tightly once the anger of giving her a heart attack dissipated  .  things improved with her dad ,   she and bradley became roommates giving he wanted to live off base and she needed one so kinda worked ..sort of .   

once again the love he had shifted  no longer innocent love was held when he would come home to see her cooking dinner for them both , the domestic bliss of it all during the day til  night would come both departing to their own rooms . staring at ceiling wishing she was there , wishing he could wrap his arm and hold her close . that love had always been there just constantly growing and evolving in away . so here he stood gripping the pool cue watching some asshole  trying to flirt with her , trying to put the moves on her . 

“ you know if you break that it’s going to make the teams so hard to play” phoenix whispered. 

“ maybe if ya grew a pair  would help hell if you don’t i might “ hangman called . 

“ don’t know what your both talking about” he grumbled , pouty  forcing himself to turn away . 

 “ course you do chicken , the fact you’ve been drooling over mini Mav since y’all were kids , i mean i don’t blame you she is something else  especially when …” .

“ you wanna shut that mouth before i shut it for you “ he spat , storming head to head , chest to chest with the blonde. 

The ringing of a bell and cheers all over the bar pulling them apart to see her standing proudly ringing the bell as the asshole stood shaking his head. 

“ thanks honey “ she laughed, heading victoriously with the beer in hand handing them out to the dagger squad . “you guys thirsty” she smirked, holding them up  like tickets at the arcade.  Seeing how close the two were standing . “ what you do ?” she sighed looking at hangman. 

“  head why is my fault?” the smug grin on his face that didn’t sell any ounce of  innocence  he was trying to portray in his words. 

“ don’t abuse the bell darling” jake drawled. 

“ cause you rile him up and make that vein pop out on his Pretty head” she handed both men their beer, patting rooster cheek and  instantly the man was melting under her touch, face softening , all anger a sudden distant memory .from tense and tough to a goofy puddle on the barstool  goofy grin on his face . “ now be good boys or it’s overboard for you both “ . 

“  hows that beer tasting bagman “ she quirked her brow . 

“ she got a good point bagman , this does taste mighty good” payback fist bumped her. 

  “ god you need an ego check like your dad?” . 

“ my ego is perfect cowboy i mean not big like texas but i’ll leave that to you “ she patted his cheek .

“ you know you might be only one around here that’s at my level mini mav “ .

“ oh honey passed that level long ago with my eyes closed , was like a walk in the park” she snorted as phoenix high fived her. 

“ hey Bradley,  you’re  here?” a giggle and squeal as she turned to see them titering towards them  and that stupid burn of jealousy  hitting her stomach and her brow furrow . the part of the night she hated when the tag chasers came to stake their  claim and build  that personal collection of theirs . they hung around jake and bradley  giggling and twirling their hair .  god it made her sick  well she didn’t if they pushed their tits in jakes face it was the brunette  she had a problem with .  their stupid dainty hands all over him , feeling her blood boil and her hand clenching the beer bottle.

“ loosen the grip we can’t have our best medic out with injuries now can we “ phoenix smirked. 

 “ ohh rooster your muscle are so big let me feel them blah blah blah i love your stupid mustach like me lick it ohh pretty blah blah “ she mimicked as they snorted . 

“ ask him out then  stop being jealous  jesus you’d swear it was one sided “ bob scoffed  the usually shy WSO  starting to reach his limit with the pining.  just  for her to turn and see a woman leaning up and whispering in the brunettes ear nipping the skin  before she pulled back . 

“ i think i’m going to go home suddenly i don’t feel so good night  “ she stood as they all booed walking off . “ night rooster , bagman don’t catch herpes “ she waved walking out the door giving penny a quick wave. 

He didn’t want her to leave ,  he didn’t want these hand all over him . her hand where the ones he wanted , it was her body he wanted hugging up against him . 

“ OH MY GOD … go after her , she jealous , you love her , she loves you now come on “ bob yelled completely done , so over it all . “OOWW don’t hit me we’re all thinking it even jakes trying to get him to ask her out even if he’s been a dick about it “ he yelped as phoenix pinched him . 

“ rooster come lets get out of here” the woman cooed ignoring his friends . 

“ yeah  i do need to get out  of herebbut not with you “ he stood in a panic trying to grab his things in as quick as possible ignoring the woman trying to stop him , her whining his name . 

“ go i got your tab but you chicken out shit i’m charging you triple “ jake called as bradley nodded rushing out the door.  He didn’t know what he was going to say or do but he did know it was along the line of he was completely in love with her , shit hangman may of said it to goad and taunt him but she had him hooked on her since forever.   This was probably the scariest thing he would ever do , this was gonna be his scariest mission to date. 

“ ugh stupid feeling , stupid roo and his ridiculous mustache and hawaiian shirts “ she muttered pacing wondering why this was her life would of been easier being in love with ice man's son he was ok she guessed although their dads had more chemistry than they did . 

God she was an idiot , she was stressing her out over something that was her fault . Standing toe to toe with any man in the navy , any rank  easy breezy , telling her best friend she known all her life well scared her more than anything on gods green earth .  hell it was easier to chew cyclone out when he wouldn’t send back up for her dad and rooster to point the man was still a little nervous around her.  She was gonna spend her life watching other woman doing what she wished she could do and more ,  one day she was going to be at his wedding  drinking being the crazy aunt to his and lovely little wife kids all cause she is a chicken shit to take a risk but hell it would be better than losing him all together. 

“ what did my shirts and mustache do to you “  the voice called halting her internal berating .

“ why you home “ she cringed how more pitchy it came out than intended . 

“ why you home “ . 

“ i asked you first” she winced how small she sounded . “ jesus get a grip “ she internal groaned. 

“ cause you here” he spoke easily .  it shouldnt have but it snapped something inside her making her pissed at the man before the stupid man that wanted to make her scribble their names in her note book cute little heart. 

“ don’t say that jesus christ you are killing me man , your stupid puppy dog eyes and everything how am i not meant to fall for that shit … or  that combo shouldn’t look good on anyone not even tom sellak pulled it off that good that drives girl in drones towards you in stupid high heels that  no one should be able to walk in those” she paced yelling it was all too much and flowing out she couldn’t stop it even if she tried .  “ now i ruin it all, i’m going to be smiling at your wedding with some bitch … but she not gonna be a bitch but she is and then i’ll get the pity invites for christmas and holidays while I'll be that aunt to your bitchy kids too  ughh why did i have to fall in love with you “ she groaned as he stood trying not to smile what worst was the laugh that broke out as she stood glaring.  “ don’t laugh i’m baring my heart and soul here two things i didn’t know i had til your goodness gracious great balls of fire ass came into my life” . 

“ ok one you’re crazy and an idiot  but i’ve been an idiot too . if i wasn’t so scared to lose you  or push you away by telling you i’m bat shit insanely in love with you since before i knew how to spell the damned word .. that every time you touch me i am liquid and a solid in my spot ..properly too much but fuck am i’m so in love with you all i wanna do is kiss your face and hold you , that only woman i want holding me is you too high heels or not and  your maybe bitchy but shit don’t need to call our future kids bitchy “ he pulled her infront of him , his hand holding her face  , her breathe hitching , like she couldn’t breathe nor believe this was happening til couldn’t help laughing . 

“ i mean they will be bitchy “ they both laughed as she finally spoke . “ you love me too bob was right?” she asked . 

“Did he yell at you too .. but yeah i guess he was so can i kiss you now  or you gonna yell at me some more” he asked  cocky shit eating grin and yet she loved it , she loved him . 

“ sorry i called your mustache and shirts ridiculous … please kiss me before more shit comes out of my mouth “ she laughed . 

Every fear  both  had melted away , being pulled like a magnetic force to each other both realizing how stupid they were not to see it before then when their lips touched it wasn’t strange , usual . it felt right like it was something they should of been doing long time ago .  every second til now seemed like it was wasted time ,  their lips slotted together perfectly like two pieces of a picture perfect puzzle .  never in  life could either of them find it in another like fates seal and made for them alone .  only would help if fate gave the lung more air capacity is why the stopped pulling back felling his had caress her leaning into the tough of the rough skin yet it was softest touch . 

“I can’t believe bob yelled at me” he said making her laugh. 

“ we confessed our love to each other and kissed and that’s the first thing you have to say “ she snorted . 

“ i mean ok bad time but bagman been goading me too jesus he’s never gonna let me live it down he knew the whole time.. But it’s worth it because if i’m ever gonna stand at an alter baby it’s gonna be with you joining me because i love you , i have done all my life with all my heart” he smiled pulling her closer kissing her softly know he had a lot of miss time to catch up on . 

[frudoo]

I’m an autistic little gremlin- so hear me out, one of the 141 boys (or all of them idc- up to you) with a kid that they rescued on a mission and this poor little child is Autistic and hypersensitive to noise and they’ve gotta rework how they do things for now, you know, the boys are used to gunfire, loud comms, yelling at each other (all in good fun) but they don’t wanna scare the poor kid. (I just wanna heal my childhood with these men lmao-)

This was so sweet! I chose Simon, I hope that's alright!

Warnings: None!

“It’s alrigh’, little one, you’re gonna be jus’ fine,” Simon coos to the shivering child he’s holding to his chest. 

     If there’s one thing Simon hates the most on these missions, it’s finding innocent children terrified and all alone, trapped in the rubble of what used to be their homes. It reminds him of his own childhood, hiding away in closets with his little brother while his father wreaked havoc in the living room, on his mother. He would go through hell and back—he has, matter of fact—to make sure that no other kid would have to suffer the way he did, or worse. 

     Unfortunately, sick fucks still come in large quantities, intent on playing God and destroying perfectly peaceful homes with their agendas, leaving the innocents stuck in the middle of it. It destroys Simon, makes his heart grow ten times its normal size in an attempt to shelter every soul he finds to be like his own. Now, here, on the drive back to base, he holds the child in his lap, pressing their head against his chest and covering their exposed ear with one large hand. 

     In the short hour he’s been caring for this kid, Simon’s noticed how loud noises affect them—scratching at their ears or trying to bang their head against a solid surface—so he’s trying his best to keep the sound levels down. No obscene bantering with his teammates, only speaking into his comms when absolutely necessary. Even Soap is on his best behavior, keeping a trained eye on the child to make sure everything is alright. 

     “Alrigh’, kiddo, we’re on base now. S’gonna be a little loud, yeah? Jus’ keep your ‘ead on m’chest, and keep your ears covered f’me.” 

     Simon doesn’t dare make a move until the child nods in agreement. Only once he’s gotten confirmation does he stand, hopping off the Humvee and booking it towards the building. The cool air is calming, grounding, and immediately the kid relaxes in Simon’s hold, squirming to get down. The big man grins beneath his mask as he watches the child smile for the first time, only the quiet chatter and footsteps of soldiers to be heard inside. 

     The mission is far from over, but the team has a few days of reprieve before they’re back on the field. Simon takes the opportunity to learn more about the child, ignoring his superiors’ requests to get them out of here and find some foster care system to put them in—he knows how miserable it is there. The last thing he wants to do is shove this poor kid right back into another traumatic experience. No, instead, he finds some extra clothes to give them (even if they are way too big) and takes care of them the best he can—even gives them a pair of headphones to keep on when the world gets too overwhelming.

     Ultimately, Simon realizes that he’s become attached to this child, and when the mission is finally complete and they’re all free to go on leave, he takes the kid home with him. A couple of weeks later, he’s certain that this is the life he wants, to fill in as a guardian for this sweet, sweet child, to something to live for. He ends up retiring and adopting the lovely kiddo. 

     He found peace in the quiet, the simple life, and maybe finding this new happiness in the rubble wasn’t such a bad thing.

[coolprettyleo]

begin again au ☆ - Frankies Lore!

wc: 1.8k

tw: drinking, mean coach, quitting, embarrassing? fluff bit of angst?

ryan leonard x hughes sister au!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

frankie couldn't believe what she had just done. something that had been a long time coming finally crashed down and for the first time in her life frankie felt bittersweet.

her whole life has revolved around the sport of hockey; having three brothers playing in the NHL and a mother and father who both played collegiete and now coach is a nightmare in disguise; for someone who is so tired of trying.

dont get her wrong she loved the sport. growing up, she started to confuse what the love was actually for. she thought she held the same passion to play that her brothers did, she was wrong. she now knows the love was to watch it never play it. she loved too watch her family come together and love something so much. she loved too watch other people play. she loved it from a distance. it took a while to come to terms with that.

when she explains the situation to anyone she always uses the same analogy. she loves to hear country music but that doesn't mean she wants to become the next taylor swift. even if she was a fan.

frankie had finally had enough and quit. not before going off on her coach though. something that she had been wanting to say every time she had been forced to stay after practice, run extra drills, every time she has been yelled at for tipping a shot in, every time she had been compared to her brothers, she finally did it.

*flashback to earlier*

"I want to see you guys here tomorrow morning seven am sharp!" coach lindsey said fiercely.

frankie respected the woman. her story was something she found inspiring. but right now she wanted the strangle the woman. her bones felt as if she was just hit by a bus and she hadn't had a good night sleep in about a month. so frankie being frankie, loudly groaned.

"hughes! just for that, you can stay back and do some laps!"

dont cry. dont cry. dont cry. you caused this.

her teammates filed out torwards the locker rooms desperately trying to get away before their coach decided to ultimately punish all of them while she began to skate. in her head frankie was about to lose it as her coach began to yell insult after insult.

"cmon hughes! you're never going to be good as your brothers with that speed"

"you call that faster?"

"I didn't tell you you can stop!"

coach lindsey yelled. she looked and sounded like abby lee miller. frankie smiled to herself at the thought as she began to slow down after skating as fast as she could for about fifteen minutes straight. not feeling well frankie skated off the rink towards the closest trashcan and threw up.

as she heard her coach coming up to her she began to plead.

"please, I cant take it anymore" she cried.

"your done for tonight. and fix that attitude by tomorrow morning will ya. you think your brothers are pulling this crap with their coaches?"

"I said I cant do it anymore!" frankie yelled finally having enough. shocking both herself and her coach.

"how is any of this okay! after everything you just yelled at me, pushing me through utter exhaustion, you come over here and try to act like its okay!?! i'm done."

"grow up and stop being a brat hughes. i'll see you tomorrow."

"you won't. I promise you that" Frankie threw back as she got her bag and began to walk out.

"you walk out that door and your future on this team is done!"

"its been done" frankie said walking out with tears streaming down her eyes.

*flashback ended*

she didn't know what to do. if she were to call her family they would worry and fly in thinking she was going through a manic episode, maybe she was but this felt real and it felt good.

its like her brain and heart had been at war since she was thirteen and her heart had finally won the war five years later. she didn't know whether to laugh or cry though.

she was happy because she was finally free. but she felt a dark cloud gloom over her when she realized she had to tell her family what she just did. she honestly didn't know how they were going to react.

the guilt began to rain on her as she remembered hoe happy they had been for her because they realized she can actually go on and play professionally since the PWHL had its debut and she was already a top prospect for the 2024 year draft but she just went and ruined it.

they're going to disown me.

that thought alone caused frankie to be where she was right now. in a bar with her fake ID drinking her feelings away on a wednesday night. alone. this had to be borderline alcoholic.

"I mean I wanted this right? so why do I feel like throwing myself off the bridge! why am I like this! am I being annoying? you can tell me greg" frankie rambled on to the bartender whose name was actually john.

"im going to call you and uber" he said dismissing her not wanting to deal with a drunk college girl.

"no! let me call someone!" she said taking the bar phone away from him. seeing as her phone had died about forty five minutes ago. quickly dialing the only number she remembered due to the fact she never saved his contact in her phone.

"hello?"

"drew! please, please come pick me up! you know I hate taking ubers alone. I swear i'll give you a little something after..." she said suggestively.

"frankie? hold on drews in the shower. its will, are you drunk? really on a wednesday? where are you?" will began to scold her over the phone, sounding very motherly.

"don't you judge me, I needed this. and im at the mecca" frankie slurred.

"ryan and I will be there in fifteen" he said hanging up.

__

"lady get off the counter!"

is what will and ryan heard when they walked into the bar.

"oh god" ryan said as he saw frankie start to crawl onto the counter. quickly rushing over to pull her off.

"m'not interested." she mumbled when she felt big hands around her waist.

ryan felt his heart crack. he knew he shouldn't because, one she probably thinks its some random guy and two frankie doesn't know he likes her.

since he first met frankie he realized he's had a thing for her but being the good friend he is, he kept his feelings to himself not wanting to start problems with drew.

it gives him so much anger to think about the fact that drew basically just uses her for sex. but at the same time she's probably just using drew too. so who is he to to get mad.

someone who would give her the world

"what are you doing frankie" will says giving her a disappointed look as ryan pulls her over his shoulder.

"I was just trying to dance!" frankie says upside down.

"on a wednesday at seven thirty pm? at least wait till ten" ryan says approaching the car and strapping her in.

"i quit the team"

"WHAT"

"ur lying"

will and ryan said at the same time with their eyes wide. they knew frankie hated playing hockey, they just never thought she was going to quit. someone with as much talent as frankie needs to be out there.

"m'not. im done and im scared to tell my family. I think they're going to be mad" she slurred as her eyes began to water.

ryan, who cant handle to see her cry quickly got into the back seat with her, and started to comfort her. wrapping her up in his arms and wiping her tears that began to fall from her big blue eyes. he could stare into them forever.

he told will to start driving back to her apartment as he comforted her.

"frankie, your family loves you and you know that. they're never going to hate you because you quit, if anything I think they've been expecting it-"

"geez thanks ryan" frankie says crying drunkly. ryan cant help but smile a bit because even though he hates to see her like this she looks really cute.

"not like that, its just anyone who knows and loves you can see your not happy out there. I see it, will sees it, so I know for a fact they see it too. and if they didnt and they do get mad thats on them. its your life not theirs" ryan says with his arm wrapped around her as she sniffles into his shirt.

"I guess so" she finally says seeing as their pulling up to her dorm.

"can you walk me up? its okay if you dont want too! I get it, im just scared that the RA is going to see me like this and call campus security on me and-"

"frankie! of course ill walk you up, are you kidding" ryan cuts off her rambling pulling her out of the car.

"i'll walk home smitty, you dont have to wait" ryan says knowing he was doing homework earlier that was due tonight before frankie had called.

"you sure?" will says kinda feeling bad for not staying and helping him take care of her. but then realizing ryan probably wants to take care of her.

him and gabe loved to tease ryan on the fact he was hopelessly in love with frankie. of course they would never tell drew even though they know if ryan were to just tell drew how he feels drew would back off. ryan just likes to be complicated.

"yeah, we'll be fine. right frankie?" he says keeping her upright. she was fully awake but the thing about frankie hughes is she loves to lay on the floor when she was drunk.

"yup!!" she chirps while ryan smiles down at her.

they wave goodbye to will while ryan picks her up and walks to towards her door. he smiles as he gets too her door and sees her doormat.

'cool bitches only'

he opens the door using her keys that he found in her purse and hauls her inside down the hall to her room. her room was so her. he loved it.

god I sound like a creep.

he shakes the thought from his head as he settles her down, takes off her shoes, and wipes all the remaining makeup off her face. thinking of how perfect she was.

"ryan" she says dreamingly as she feels him pull the cover over her body.

"yes baby?"

frankie felt her stomach do a cartwheel and she couldn't understand why.

"thank you. for everything."

"anytime frankie hughes"

he says before giving her a kiss on her forehead and walking home.

send in ideas for this au!! im really excited for it!

[daisynik7]

“Into you” by Fabolous for Connie Springer- smut + fluff

(S4 connie ofc)

Into You

I think you’re truly something special, just what my dreams are really made of

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: super fluffy, kinda cheesy, college au, modern day au, lots of basketball terms (applies specifically to NCAA and NBA), explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), implied creampie

Summary: You and Connie Springer have been close since childhood, growing up as next-door neighbors and best friends. The bond the two of you share is undeniable, but you’ve never been able to admit how deep your feelings are, either to yourself or to him. You continue to support him as his friend while he pursues his career as a basketball player, trying to get drafted into the NBA. Though the journey has its ups and downs, one thing is for certain: The two of you will always have each other, forever and ever. 

Author’s Notes: Hi anon! Thanks so much for requesting this song for the y2k karaoke party because it’s one of my FAVORITES! It really gives me Love & Basketball vibes, another favorite of mine that also happens to be a classic in the y2k era. This little fic is very loosely based off of that, so I hope you enjoy! Also, all the basketball/NBA tidbits are mostly from being with my boyfriend, who is a huge NBA fan, so yeah, sorry if any details are inaccurate lol. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! MDNI banner credit to @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (Slam Dunk manga).

“You have to pinky promise, okay?” Connie sticks his tiny finger out, wiggling it in front of your face, sucking on his cherry-flavored lollipop, lips and tongue-stained red. You’re both five years old, sitting cross-legged in the front of his yard, taking a break from playing hide-and-seek.

“What am I pinky promising?” you ask, voice squeaky and curious.

“That we’ll be best friends forever and ever! No matter what!” he exclaims, beaming at you with his eyes wide, twinkling earnestly. 

You only need to think for a few seconds before you’re hooking your pinky with his, committing to this promise for the rest of your lives. 

~~~

Ten years later, Connie makes it on the varsity basketball team in your high school. It’s rare for a freshman to make it to varsity at Ragako; the coaches must have seen that spark in him that you and his family have witnessed since he started playing at ten-years-old. You used to shoot around with him out in his driveway, where his father set up a little hoop. Eventually, the little one got upgraded to a real one, where the height was adjusted appropriately as Connie grew. You became his practice partner, no longer able to compete with him. Instead, you passed him the ball, watching in awe as he made shot after shot, sometimes deep from the street. He’d pick you up and spin you around, the two of you cheering together, impressed by his skills.

Year after year, he only improved. The way he handled the ball, expertly dribbling it between his legs, behind his back, one-handed, without looking. Or the way his feet gracefully shuffled along the court, the distinct squeak from his shoes echoing off the walls as you watch him on the bleachers, playing three-on-three against some of his buddies at the gym. One time, his friend Jean teases you. “You know, you should stop hanging around here or else people might think you’re his groupie.”

Before you can think of a smart comeback, Connie interjects, shoving Jean hard in the arm. “Hey! Leave her alone. I want her here. I only play like this when she’s around. And she’s not a groupie. She’s my best friend.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the exit while Jean sputters apologies that go ignored. “Sorry about that,” he whispers to you. “Jean is an asshole. I want you around, got it? Forever and ever.”

You smile, leaning into him. “Forever and ever.”

~~~

It’s at the championship game during senior year that you realize that you’re in love with Connie.

Scouts have already contacted him about full-ride scholarships to university, recruiting him for their team. He’s the most celebrated point-guard in your school’s history, his average points and assists per game breaking records. Ever since he joined, your school has made it in the final round each year, last year resulting in a win, this year leading to a second. 

With seconds left on the shot clock, tie game, Ragako with possession, Connie makes his move. He inbounds the ball to his teammate, quickly taking position at the right wing, his sweet spot. As quickly as it leaves his hands, the ball is passed back to him. He shoots it, and as it flies out from his fingers into the air, the buzzer rings, and he makes it. The crowd goes wild; one side of the bleachers erupting into a frenzy, jumping up and down with excitement. Connie’s parents hug each other first, then surround you in their arms, elated. You don’t expect him to celebrate the win with you, not with his entire team huddling around him, splashing water on his head, cheering his name. Not with all the cheerleaders and fans gravitating toward him, eager to be in the presence of a sure-to-be star in the making. So, it surprises you when you see him maneuver his way through the crowd, heading straight towards you. He pounces on you, giving you the biggest, sweatiest hug with tears streaming down his face. It’s a split second where the surrounding noise goes blank and it’s just the two of you there, basking in each other’s warmth. Soon, his parents join you, also crying happily, and it’s in this moment that you realize this is where you want to be: with him. Forever and ever.

~~~

It's no surprise that the two of you attend the same college together. Most people will see it as you following him, but in actuality, Connie agrees to go wherever you go. Lucky for you both, your top choice is a D1 university where he’s offered a scholarship to play for their basketball team. It works out perfectly, as if it were meant to be. 

He’s busy from the get-go, practicing every day until the season starts in November. You become preoccupied with classes, and naturally, the two of you travel your different paths, meeting in the middle whenever you can. When the season official starts, you attend all his home games, cheering for him from the sidelines surrounded by the other students also chanting his name. Weeknights, he’s often too tired to hang out, retreating to his dorm room to fall asleep, only to repeat his busy schedule again the next day. He grows close with his teammates, spending most of his time with them instead of you, which is to be expected. After all, you and Connie are just friends. Sure, you’re completely and madly in love with him, but he’ll never know that. So, you watch from afar as he pursues his career without you in the way. It’s the way it has to be. 

By the time spring semester rolls around, you and Connie barely see each other. You’ll still text, sometimes video chat or talk on the phone. He mostly vents to you about teammates or coaches that have gotten on his nerves that day. He’ll catch you up on the other schools they’ve defeated or the ones that they’ve lost to. Your school’s record is quite good thanks to Connie, who’s only gotten better since high school. If they continue at this rate, they will win the conference tournament, meaning a trip to March Madness, the most prestigious competition in college basketball. Most importantly, it’s one step closer to the NBA.

As expected, the team does win the conference tournament. That night, the entire campus is lively with students buzzing in school spirit, ready to party the rest of the weekend. All you think about is calling Connie to congratulate him, hear his voice and tell him that you’re so proud of him. You debate with yourself for nearly fifteen minutes, staring at his name on your screen, fingers so close to dialing his number. You decide not to go through with it, certain that he’s too busy with his team, too busy with his fans. He’s not thinking about you, not when his whole world is about to change. And you can’t blame him; you’re just friends, and this is the way it has to be.

The following night, your school organizes an impromptu homecoming for the basketball team, welcoming them as they arrive on the bus, fresh from their championship win. They have a  couple days of rest before they leave for the NCAA tournament, but you’re sure they’ll be busy with press and practice until then. You’re not there to greet them when they step off the bus; instead, you’re sulking in your room, buried under the covers, feeling sorry for yourself for ever falling in love with Connie Springer. It’s a sad, pathetic sight, but at least you’re alone for the weekend to do it while your roommate is out visiting her boyfriend out of town. 

You’re surprised to see Connie’s name flash on your phone a few hours later. You let it ring twice before answering. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he asks. There’s shuffling in the background, as if he’s walking outside. 

“I’m in my room.”

“I’m coming over now.” He hangs up, not giving you any time to respond. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

When you open the door to let him in, he wraps his arms around you in a snug embrace. “I missed you.” He pulls off to hold you by the arms, glaring. “Why didn’t you greet me off the bus?”

“I…” you start, unsure how to respond. 

“I was looking for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“I was studying in the library.” This might be the first time you’ve ever lied to him. You feel guilty and gross. 

“Oh,” he says sadly, still staring at you. 

“Congratulations, by the way. It was an amazing win.” You give him a weak smile, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. You don’t even know why you’re crying; Connie did nothing wrong. You’re letting your emotions get the best of you, and you can’t help but crumble in front of the only person who knows you better than you know yourself. 

“I don’t care about that right now. I care about you. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Connie, I promise.”

“Don’t promise me shit like that. I know you’re upset. Tell me. Please.” His eyes search yours, desperate for an answer. 

You look at his feet, fixating on his shoes, scuffed on the sides from playing. Tears start to drop from your face and on the carpet. “I just…I missed you too. I miss you, Connie. I…I love you.” The confession slips from your mouth in a sniffle, and you’re so upset with yourself for letting it slide in this crucial moment. Neither of you needs the drama of your unrequited love right now. Not you, knowing he’ll be leaving again soon, and especially not him, who has bigger and better things to focus on. 

He gapes at you, stuttering, “You love me?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“Like, love love? Or love like a friend?”

You’re tempted to lie, just to make it easier. But you owe it to Connie to be honest with him. “Love love.”

His mouth is open, eyes bugging out, completely shocked by your admission. Before he can respond, you add, “I’m sorry, Connie. I shouldn’t have told you this right before the tournament, but…I don’t know. It just came out. I’m sorry.”

He stammers, “You’re sorry? This is the best fucking thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” He breaks into a smile, laughing hysterically, an even more bizarre reaction. 

You cross your arms, getting impatient with his ridiculous behavior, eventually grabbing his shoulders to shake him out of his fit. “Connie, what the hell?!”

He wipes his eyes, crying from giggling, beaming at you. “I’ve been in love with since we were kids. Been dreaming of hearing you say that since we were five-years-old.” He hugs you tightly, nuzzling his nose to the top of your head. “I love you and I want to be with you. Forever and ever, right?”

You nestle into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you missed since he’s been gone. “Forever and ever.” 

~~~

The two of you spend the night together, making love for the first time. His lips are soft against yours, and you smile into his kiss, remembering the day you pinky promised that you’ll be best friends forever and ever, no matter what. His lips were stained red with cherry-flavored candy, looking sickly sweet as he smiled at you. And as you kiss him now, he tastes just as sweet as you imagined he’d be after all these years. 

You kiss him sloppy as you ride his lap, his cock buried deep in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He moans your name into your mouth as he laps at the saliva collecting on your tongue, slurping your spit, swallowing it thickly. “Fuck,” he groans, hands gripped to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thighs. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long, baby. So long.”

“Me too,” you whisper, starting to bounce on him, close to your climax. 

“What would you think about? Tell me,” he demands, thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing it raw.

You whine from his touch, increasing your pace, resting your head on his shoulder. “You and me, just like this,” you huff, short of breath. 

“Yeah? You thought about me deep inside you, huh? Fucking this sweet pussy until you come all over my cock, huh?” He thrusts up into you, grip tightening, fingers digging into your flesh. He’s close too, you can feel it.

You moan into his skin, sweat beading on your forehead, throwing your ass back against him in tandem with each pump of his cock. A few more strokes and the two of you come together, the mess spilling onto the sheets as soon as he pulls out. 

He wipes you down with tissues and baby wipes you have handy on your bedside drawer. As soon as you’re both clean, he cradles you in his arms, spooning you from behind. 

“I know this is going to sound super cheesy, but I truly feel like a winner now,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck. 

You chuckle, squeezing his hand in yours. “Wait until you win March Madness. Then you’ll really be a champ.”

“Even if I lose, I’ll still have you. And that’s been my dream all this time.” 

You shift your body to face him, gazing into his eyes. “I thought your dream was to make it into the NBA?”

He smiles, booping you on the nose. “It’s part of the dream, sure. But I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now if it wasn’t for you. You kept me going all these years. Knowing you were always on my side gave me the strength I needed to get here. As long as I have you, I’ll be living the dream.” He kisses you on the forehead. “I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.”

“Forever and ever?”

“Forever and ever.”

~~~

In an upset, your school loses in the Final Four. It’s the furthest they’ve gotten in university history, and a large part of that is due to Connie and his extraordinary performance as their point guard. His efforts do not go unnoticed; his coaches and many prospective agents have contacted him, encouraging him to apply for the NBA draft. 

June of the same year, Connie Springer is drafted tenth in the first round and you’re sitting right beside him with his parents, cheering for him. Just as you have throughout all these years, and just as you will for the rest of your lives. Forever and ever. 

[bi-scottsummers]

Hi, hello, just came here to say that I love your fic "trending in Japan". I was wondering if you had headcanons regarding Kenji or Emi or interpersonal relationships and stuff. Many hugs for you.

hi hello, thank you for the encouragement and hugs! After some thought ive realized I do in fact have some hcs about some of the character dynamics in the movie as well as just kenji himself, cause hes captivated my entire brain:

Kenji & Emi

Emi does not have teeth but she does inexplicably have a teething phase. kenji is forced to hide all his (salvaged) fancy cars in the garage bc the corvette's already been chewed to hell and his heart is gonna give out if he has to watch any more classics get wrecked

he reads her bedtime stories. A lot of aesop's fables, because theyre short and fun and hes trying to raise his monster daughter with good morals. emi goes hogwild for these but its unclear if she actually understands what hes saying; kenji's pretty sure she just likes the silly voices he uses for different characters

they go flying together! they go first thing in the morning before breakfast - it helps kenji shake off the grogginess of sleep and emi gets to stretch her wings. shes not able to go very far for very long initially, but as she grows and gets those cardio gainz she almost gets to be quicker than him. they have races and play air tag :)

while she doesnt have the vocal range to speak english herself, it becomes clear that emi does understand it well. (kenji also develops an ear for her chirping/squawks, though body language & facial expressions play a big part in communication for both of them) during her (much later) rebellious phase she'll simply pretend not to know what's being said when kenji is telling her to do something she doesn't wanna do, which frustrates him to no end

Kenji

developed a pretty massive chip on his shoulder after moving to the states. it wasn't just bitterness over his dad staying behind, though that was a part of it. this is canon but he was picked on in school for "how [he talked], how [he looked] and what [he ate]." he felt like he had something to prove to both his father and the world. he threw himself into sports - specifically baseball - and his academics, and he did so well that it forced everyone to shut up about how he was different from them and focus on how he was better than them

^ playing off this: kenji had a bonkers fucking yonkers routine when he was a kid/in highschool. he'd get up hours before school started to practice his swing, go for a ~1hr run, workout, study, etc. He'd go to school, come home, and do it all again. this is exaggerated but my point is that this kid was DETERMINED and had the discipline to see that determination through to the end

didnt have many friends because of all aforementioned things. he had acquaintances, and he was invited to parties and outings and stuff (never went), but he spent most of his free time hanging out with his mom. he never really had a "parents are so embarrassing" phase. he always liked to do anything with his mother: going to the bank, going grocery shopping, watching cheesy telenovelas till ungodly hours in the morning, etc. she was his no.1 supporter, confidant, and best friend

he played for his university's baseball team and got scouted at 19. his mom forced him to finish his bachelor's first so once he graduated with his degree in kinesiology at 21, he was drafted to the dodgers

Kenji & Ami

both of them, up until meeting each other, were totally dedicated to their career (and child) so they had basically 0 time for friends. theyre both borderline losers but theyre juuust good enough at what they do for people to admire them instead of finding them sad and lowkey pathetic

kenji is way more into the idea of being friends than ami is. hes pretty enthusiastic about it; he thinks that they have a kind of rapport, since they share a similar work ethic and are both (unbeknownst to ami) single parents. he calls her to chat abt random things. ami initially isnt superrrr into it; she thinks kenji is kinda lonely and desperate for human connection, & it isnt until her mom points out that she has not spoken to anyone outside of work-related reasons in 10+ years that shes like oh shit, i am also lonely and desperate for human connection. so she grudgingly acquires a friend. theyre both really bad at it

need to clarify that in my mind their dynamic is 95% kenji yapping about work and drama in his personal life (circumventing the 8m baby kaiju hes raising) while ami goes "mhm mhm" and takes notes until kenji notices and is like What are you doing. at which point ami is like...... right . nothing. im listening. and forces herself to put the notepad away. she has a hard time disengaging from the reporter mindset and just hearing something intriguing without turning it into an article. the other 5% are the rare moments where theyre connecting super well - ami's psychoanalyzing the hell out of whatever kenji just said and hes like what are you my therapist. over time she starts opening up to him, too, and eventually theyre comfortable enough to be having philosophical discussions over breakfast just for funsies

before kenji reveals that hes ultraman, ami thinks hes in a gang. he keeps showing up to their lunch "dates" with like bruised eyes and fractured bones and gets all shifty when she tries to ask about what happened. when she eventually confronts him about it, hes so offended that she thinks hed be involved in something like that that he tells her about being ultraman

thats about all i can think of rn, though im sure ill think of more after rotating all the characters in my head for a while. thanks again for stopping in, i appreciate the support :)