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aces-and-angels · 1 month

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Title: Not My Birthday

A/N: what the hell is up, gang? i've been dying to share this one with y'all for weeks and now it's finally here 🎊🎊🎊 please enjoy the thing that's been plaguing my very being for hours on end 🖤 @choicesficwriterscreations

p.s. a big thank you to @noesapphic for helping me out with some of the spanish dialogue

Characters: Xiomara Calloway (oc: @a-cloud-for-dreams), Ryan Cortazar, Amalia de León (oc: @itlivesproject), Beau McGraw, Enid Mendoza, Cameron Rose, Tommy Rose, Gigi Sinclair, Martin Vanderweil, Wind Velez (oc: @oh-so-youre-a-nerd)

Pairing(s): Martin x Wind (not yet official), Gigi x Xiomara

Summary: Set sometime before Magnus gets hired; Wind does their best to get through another birthday.

Content Warning(s): brief mention of blood, language, childhood trauma

Word Count: 3.9K

read below cut or...

AO3 LINK

---

McGraw Byrne, morning…

It’s just a day. A set of numbers written in the margin. Zero three zero two. Yet Wind’s calendar remains flipped to February, its page marked with thick black lines crossing off each date. What they’d give to be able to take a sharpie to the day and scribble it out entirely. But they can’t- not for another 14 hours and 32 minutes. Not like they’re counting or anything.

Amalia saves them first.

“Mx. Velez, I know you’re busy with that case for Landon, but can you-”

“Yes,” they say all too quickly.

Amalia blinks, perplexed by their eagerness. “You don’t even know what I’m about to ask for yet.”

“Does that matter? You know I’d do anything for one of my favorite paralegals.” Their desperate need for distraction aside, the sentiment was sincere. Without Amalia, completing any case would be nearly impossible.

“Wasn’t fishing for compliments, but I’ll take it,” she breathes with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lip. “Hopefully, you’ll still hold that sentiment after this conversation.”

“Pretty sure I will. What can I help you with?”

“It’s a bit… Es una tontería, de verdad,” she warns, absently toying with the hem of her wine red blazer.

Noticing her nerves, Wind pushes their notebook aside. “Amalia, no te preocupes, puedes decirme lo que pasa.”

The warmth and reassurance in their tone do something to soothe her nerves, as her hand noticeably stills. “Mr. Vanderweil tasked me with redacting these documents yesterday. Simple, right?”

They nod along to her story. “I’d say so.”

“I thought so too, but then I had an issue with loading the PDFs on my computer, so I…” she pauses, sucking in a breath. “I took an alternative approach.”

“What kind of approach?”

“Converting all the files to Word docs so I could highlight all the info in black instead of contacting IT like I should have.” Her words fly out of her mouth faster than she can speak, jumbling into a mess of syllables they barely manage to catch. But they do- and oh, how their stomach plummets to the floor.

Panic cracks through the otherwise calm demeanor they’ve maintained thus far. “Amalia-”

“I know- I know,” she laments, rushing up to the foot of their desk. “Ryan already told me how wrong that was half an hour ago, which is why I haven’t uploaded anything yet.”

“Oh, thank God,” they sigh, visibly slumping into their chair. “This’ll be easy to fix then.”

“Except it won’t be because Mr. Vanderweil wanted this done before the partner meeting, and he’ll definitely chew me out when he learns that it isn’t.” Whatever nerves were kept at bay came rushing back in full force. Amalia began pacing, her heels scuffing up the floors beneath her with every anxious step. “This is the easiest thing to do, and I found a way to mess it up. It’s no question- I’m gonna get fired. And what respectable law school is going to accept someone who can’t even-”

Wind jumps from their seat to block her path. Their hands fly to her shoulders, stopping her in place with a firm grip. “Amalia,” they say gently, careful not to agitate her any further. Her dark brown eyes dart around the room, desperate to cling onto something- anything. Wind squeezes her once, steadying her frenzied gaze at them. “Inhala. Exhala.” So that’s what they do. They breathe.

In and out.

Inhala. Exhala.

Eventually, the dust settles and Wind’s arms fall back to their sides. “Better?”

She nods. “Better.”

“Good. Now, how much work do you have left?”

“I managed to fix around half of what Mr. Vanderweil sent me, but there’s still over a hundred pages left to deal with.”

The wheels in their head spin, formulating a plan. “Okay- here's what we'll do. Forward the files to me. I'll take the first 50 or so, you get the rest. Can Ryan pitch in? That would really speed things up.”

“He’s tied up with logging discovery for Ms. Tanaka. That’s why I came to you,” she grimaces.

“That's fine. We’ll manage on our own.”

“Are you sure? Even with help, it'll take some time.”

The honest answer was that they weren’t. Meetings at McGraw Byrne are notorious for being pushed up at the drop of a hat. There’s no guarantee Martin wouldn’t decide to do just that; he certainly flaunted his authority to do so around the office enough. But Wind knew one thing: they can’t cross today out, but they can redact a few dozen documents. And that was enough. “Positive. Hand the files over- we've got work to do.”

—

It’s a tricky thing- pretending to be fine. Until it isn’t. Their smile is a reflex. Their lies, sweet little things, mask the bitter truth buried deep inside them. It’s almost scary how easy it’s become.

Almost.

Gigi nearly crushes them next.

It starts with a playful hip check by the break room counter. Nothing more than a soft bump that Wind returns as a greeting. “You avoiding me, Velez?”

“Of course not,” they reply automatically. Not on purpose.

“Then why is this the first time I've seen you all day?”

The corners of Wind’s mouth pull upwards. “You’re exaggerating. Our offices are across from each other, glass windows and all.”

Gigi scoffs, a fond yet exasperated look on her face. “You know what I mean. How much work did Martin stick you with?”

Actually, he didn't. I asked for more. And I would've stayed in my office, but I physically can’t ignore the gurgling in my stomach with paperwork anymore. “Not much, really. Guess it’s just been one of those days.” There’s a part of them- the smallest, stupidest part- that wishes she, or anyone, could see through their cheery disposition. Lift the mask they’ve clutched onto for years.

It’s a hollow victory when she doesn’t.

“Tell me about it. Linda roped me into working on this painfully boring property dispute,” she complains.

“Think of it this way: maybe the land is haunted.” They wiggle their fingers spookily, throwing in a few ‘oo’s and ah’s’ for good measure.

“That would explain the urge to blow my brains out anytime I redraft these contracts.”

“Poor little Millie. She’s just trying to protect her property from the grave.”

Gigi stifles a laugh. “Millie?”

“Judging me only angers her spirit,” they retort, their own bout of laughter bubbling to the surface. A moment of silence passes between them before they both lose their resolve, dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“Whew, I needed that,” Gigi says, still chuckling.

They take a bow. “I’ll be here all week.”

“Perfect- just enough time for you to join me for lunch.”

“You’re shameless.” Despite their light ribbing, they still take a seat at the nearest table and begin to unpack their own lunch. A small break can’t hurt, right?

“I just prefer to have some entertainment with my lasagna,” she corrects in a light, teasing voice.

“You made lasagna?”

“Xo made lasagna. She's been cooking a lot more since her show wrapped.” The glow on her face at the mere mention of her wife is undeniable.

“Seems like you’re enjoying a lot more than her cooking lately,” they grin suggestively.

Her daze sharpens into a challenging glint in her eye, her smirk unwavering. “So what if I am?”

They raise their hands in surrender. “Then good for you, boo.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” she hums triumphantly as she walks over to the fridge. “Seriously, you’ve got to try some. It’s- oh damn it.”

“What is it?”

Gigi pulls out a large pink box and sets it on the table, slightly miffed. “Beau’s leftover birthday cake knocked over my containers. I told him no one but him likes coconut.”

Wind’s pulse quickened. It’s fine. You’re fine. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“How would you know? You couldn’t eat any because you’re allergic to coconut.”

They shrug. “It looked pretty.”

“Last time I let a man plan an event. I don’t care if it’s his birthday,” she mutters, more to herself than at them- too occupied with reconstructing her toppled lasagna with a pair of plastic forks. Wind turns their attention to their own lunch, a heaping portion of arroz con pollo, hoping to swallow down their bout of birthday-induced anxiety with each savory bite. It almost works.

They’re mid-bite when Gigi unknowingly moves in for the kill.

“I’ve decided,” she announces, sliding into the seat across from them.

“Hm?” It’s all they can manage to say with a mouthful of rice.

“I’m putting myself in charge of all birthday parties at the firm from here on out. Who better to plan a party than a party-lover like moi?” She cuts a piece of her lasagna with the side of her fork, still talking animatedly. “Ooh, I can start a group chat to organize any after-work festivities-”

“Mhm,” they hum along, trying to ignore the lump forming in their throat. It’s fine. You’re fine. Their eyes fixate on the grains of rice stuck to their spoon. Three on the front. Two on the back. Three on the front. Two on the back. Three on-

“Wind? You still with me, boo?”

Their head snaps up, only realizing now that they had tuned out their friend. “Sorry- can you repeat that? I zoned out.”

Another smile. Another lie. But it’s enough.

“I asked what kind of cake you like,” Gigi repeats.

“Oh- uh… I’m fine with anything, really. As long as it’s not coconut for obvious reasons.”

“C’mon, everyone has a favorite. Lemmie guess, you’re a cheesecake girl, aren’t you? No wait- red velvet.”

They force out a chuckle. “You got me. I love a good red velvet.”

Gigi’s eyes narrow, assessing them like she would a witness on trial. “You’re just being nice, aren’t you?”

“I-I’m not! I really love red velvet,” they reassure her, but to no avail. She only shakes her head, leaning back into her chair.

“I’ll figure you out eventually, Velez. Cake preference is a science. And I just so happen to be a mad scientist.”

“You really don’t have to put that much effort into this, Gi.”

“The hell I don’t! There’s no way I’m going to plan a subpar birthday party for one of my best friends. When is your birthday anyways? Before you judge me for not knowing, I did try. I just couldn’t find it listed on any of your socials.”

Her determination in any other context would flood their chest with a friendly warmth. But now it pierces through their ribcage, sending their heart into an unwanted frenzy- its beat pounding in their ears.

It’s fine. You’re fine.

It’s fine. You’re-

It’s-

They stand abruptly, the chair behind them screeching against the floorboards. “I need to go.”

Gigi glances down, concern etching onto her features. “But you’ve barely eaten anything.”

“There’s a call I’m expecting from one of my clients. Can’t miss it,” they explain, hastily packing away their food. “Let’s catch up later, yeah?”

Another smile. Another lie. But this time, they don’t stick around long enough to know if it’s enough.

—

Calm. They need to stay calm. Yet the air grows thinner and thinner until Wind is gasping, pulling at their collar in a feeble attempt to ease the tightness coiling around their throat. Everything is too loud. Too bright. Too exposed.

On their first day at McGraw Byrne, Wind marveled at the grandness of it all. How its name glimmered as rays of golden light shone through the floor to ceiling windows, hitting the platinum just right. How every hallway felt like a brand new world waiting to be explored. But now? Now there is no glimmer. No hallways left to be discovered. Only a crushing weight resting atop their chest.

Forget calm. They need to hide.

Wind shuts the door behind them, then the blinds to their windows. It’s a small shield, so they strengthen their armor. Soft, pillowy cushions cover their ears, silencing the wars raging outside. A dark quiet descends over them. Not quite calm, but numb. Numb lets them breathe. Slow their tired, weary heart from running rampant. Here, underneath a cherry wood desk, they can rest.

—

The thing about a closed door is that it can always be opened.

So Martin does just that.

He strides in without any warning, preoccupied with typing out a quick response to yet another email, all while hoping to find a certain report waiting in his inbox. “Velez, I need an update on Landon.” Three more notifications- nothing of any true significance, but it gains his attention nonetheless.

Eyes glued to the screen, Martin doesn’t register the empty office chair in front of him. “I don’t have all day,” he huffs out, already bracing himself for whatever teasing remark Wind has in store for him. But none come. To his surprise, instead of a toothy grin, he sees a pair of pink heels carelessly kicked off to the side.

Martin pockets his phone and takes a cautious step forward. “Velez?”

A pitiful sniffle, amplified by the stillness of the room, hits his ears, freezing him in place. Part of him weighs the merits behind turning around. Then he hears it again- that sorrowful hitch in Wind’s breath- and before he even realizes it, he is by their side.

Months of working alongside each other allowed Martin to experience the many sides of Wind. Infuriatingly righteous. Overly-energetic. Perplexingly kind. Wind got under his skin- crept inside and made it impossible to stay away. None of that prepared him to witness them like this- curled up underneath their desk, unwilling to even look at him.

At a loss, he simply asks, “What are you doing down there?”

A few harrowing seconds pass before they mumble a reply. “Hiding.”

“From whom?”

“Just… from today.”

Martin hums in acknowledgement, unsure how to take that answer. “How long have you been hiding?” They give a weak shrug. “Can you at least tell me why?” He waits, more than he should’ve, then sighs. “Go home, Velez.”

Wind snaps their head up. “W-what?”

“I said go home.”

“Y-you… you can’t do that!”

“I can and I am. Clearly, you’re incapable of-”

“-I’m plenty capable-”

“-You’re under a table.” He chooses not to mention the redness in their eyes or how they shine with unshed tears.

“I- I can…” Wind sputters, their voice no higher than a whisper, “I can do it.”

“I’d have an easier time believing that if you weren’t mid-cower.”

“I’m not-” Martin cocks his eyebrow, effectively killing their argument. “This isn’t any of your concern. So just leave me be.”

“Not my concern?” he scoffs, almost in disbelief. “As your supervisor, I’d have to firmly disagree. I’m responsible for your successes and your screw ups. And I work very hard to mitigate the latter. So, I’m asking you again. What’s this about?”

“It’s… personal.” Martin folds his arms, indicating them to elaborate. But much to his dismay, they don’t. He peers down at them, searching for something. The infuriatingly righteous. The overly-energetic. The perplexingly kind. Something he can work with. It’s surprisingly disappointing when his search comes up as empty as Wind’s chair.

“Send whatever you have on Landon to Aislinn. She’ll be taking point for the remainder of this case.”

“But-”

“Save your breath, Velez. You can sort out whatever it is you’re dealing with now or never. I don’t care. You just can’t be here.”

—

Wind trods through the city past several storefronts and food carts, crestfallen. Their aimless journey eventually leads them to a random dive bar- the perfect location to get good and drunk. Its unassuming exterior paled in comparison to its rich interior. Spacious, yet cozy.

An unoccupied podium greets them at the entrance. “Hello?” Their voice travels beyond the stacked chairs and strings of exposed lightbulbs casting a golden glow over the room. A few minutes go by before they try calling out again. “Hi, are y’all open?”

They venture further inside, ignoring the big, bold letters indicating patrons to ‘please wait to be seated.’ A plethora of memories line its walls. Polaroids of patrons captured in various states of inebriation- all in good fun, they figure. Along with those are news clippings throughout the years, most of which feature the NYPD in some capacity.

“I bought every copy of that issue.” Wind yelps, coming face to face with an older man. The faint lines on his bronze skin deepen as his face stretches into a friendly smile. He points at one of the officers pictured. “This one’s my niece, Cameron.”

They take a closer look at the photo. Despite its grainy quality, Wind can see the resemblance between the two. Same brown eyes. Same round nose. Her skin, however, is about three shades darker than her uncle’s. Youthful. “She looks beautiful.”

“I like to think so,” he says, pride beaming from his features. “She’s always begging me to take this one down, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Ya only graduate from the academy once, y’know?”

They nod politely. “Sorry for walkin’ in like this.”

“The sign’s flipped to open, even if we don’t look like it,” he chuckles. “Grab a seat, I’ll be right with ya.” Wind slides into an empty bar stool while he makes his way behind the counter. After rummaging through a few drawers, he pulls out a menu. “Ha! I knew I kept a few back here.”

“Thank you.” They skim through the appetizers, not retaining much.

“I promise, if ya catch us during our peak hours, we’re more lively. Anyways, welcome to The Drunk Tank. I’m Tommy- owner, bartender, and your server for today. Most of our food items won’t be available till our cook arrives, but I can try to whip up something simple if you’d like.”

“That’s alright. I only came in for a drink.”

“Perfect. What’s your poison?”

“Whatever’s strongest. Neat,” they answer flatly.

Understanding flashes through Tommy’s face. He works with silent precision, pouring a long stream of amber liquor into a glass. “Here ya go. Spirits to lift the spirit.”

Wind raises their drink to him before throwing it back in one gulp. The burn is immediate, slithering down to their chest and warming them from within. “Hah,” they wince, wiping the stray droplets from their chin. “I’ll have another.”

Tommy’s eyebrows jump, unable to conceal his shock, but he complies and slides over another shot. It goes down just as quickly. This process repeats two more times before he finally pulls the plug. “Why don’t we pace ourselves for a bit? Happy hour doesn’t start for another thirty minutes. Save yourself a few bucks.”

“Money’s not an issue,” they say, their words slightly slurred.

“Alright, I’ll level with ya. I’m not as concerned about your wallet as I am about any ‘accidents’ I may need to clean up.”

They huff out a hollow laugh. “I can hold my liquor, promise.”

“Just indulge me and drink some water.”

“Fine,” they grumble, taking a tentative sip from a much taller glass.

“Ya wanna talk about it?”

“Huh?”

“Ya wanna talk?”

“About what?”

“Anything. The weather- the Yankees- oh, I can show ya my collection of wine corks.”

“That’s… okay.” They gulp down the rest of their water, casting a hopeful glance at him, then at their empty shot glass.

He purses their lips, thinking. “Tell ya what- I’ll pour another shot if ya tell me one thing about yourself.”

Their eyes narrow at his deal, but his face remains steady. Fine, they can play along for now. “My name’s Wind.”

A quiet grin spreads on his face. “I was hoping to hear about a hobby or something.”

“A deal’s a deal.”

Tommy raises his hands in surrender. “That it is.” He serves another shot, which doesn’t last very long. “I like baseball, if ya couldn’t tell,” he jokes, gesturing to the several pieces of baseball memorabilia displayed.

“You play?”

His belly shakes with laughter. “Not well, I’m afraid. My ol’ man still put me in Little League, though, right next to my brother. I was one hell of a benchwarmer.”

“How ‘bout your brother?”

“Oh, that asshole? He was a mini prodigy. Bastard went on to play varsity. Won the state championship and everything.” Despite his light, jovial tone, Wind notices the distant look in his eyes.

“... And now?”

There’s a brief pause before he answers. “He doesn't play much of anything anymore.”

“What happened?”

His lip twitches upward with a smile that’s not all there. Dimmer than the one he first met them with. “I’ll need a few drinks before ya pull that story outta me.”

“Sorry,” they apologize quickly, “I didn’t-”

“No- you’re fine. Just felt like talking ‘s all.” He busies himself by wiping down the bar with a towel. “Ya don’t need to tell me anything, but a word to the wise: it feels a helluva lot better when you finally let it all out.”

Wind stares at him, their thoughts- all the pain, anger, and confusion threatening to spill out of them like a faucet. Kind brown eyes stare back with a patience that says, ‘Everything’s gonna be alright,’ without uttering a word. “Well, I-”

“Pop some champagne, Tito. I just got promoted!” They both startle in place. A woman strolls up to the bar, carrying a faint scent of ginger and citrus as she approaches. Wind’s eyes immediately flick to the golden snake adorning her neck, drawn by its intimidating beauty.

“Nini! That’s wonderful,” Tommy rejoices, clapping her on the shoulder like an old friend.

“I know. Now, where’s that champagne?”

“Hold on, I’ve got some in the back.” He moves to grab a bottle, but stops in his tracks when he sees them. “Oh- I’m sorry, Wind. You were about to say something.”

They shake their head. “No- actually, I should head out.”

“Stay for the toast at least.”

“Are you serious?” the woman complains.

“Yes,” Tommy hisses at her underneath his breath, which to Wind’s surprise, is all it takes for her to stand down.

“Alright,” she concedes, peering at them through her curled lashes. “Enjoy it, blondie. I’m usually not this generous, but today is a celebration. Consider it an early birthday gift.”

Their body seizes up. “What?”

“Or a late one. Not like I’d know the difference anyway. It’s no cake, but it’ll do.”

Glass shatters. A cacophony of shrieks and curses follows. Wind registers nothing- lost to fragments from the past. Their senses recall the piercing sound of their baby brother’s inconsolable wails. The desperation in their father’s pleas. They remember the cool tile on their knees- how sticky their tiny fingers became with pink frosting as they tried to push chunks of uneaten cake back together, ignoring the shards of fine china mixed throughout. All the while, their mother’s broken voice pounds within their ears. A haunting chant they can never forget.

“No puedo más- no puedo más- no puedo más-”

“Ya alright, pal?” Tommy’s worry warbles through their nightmarish haze.

“This fucking idiot got glass everywhere.”

“Ay, Nini- just grab the broom. It’s in the back. Oh- and the first aid kit.”

First aid kit? They glance down- mortified by the crimson stains on their sleeves. “Oh God-”

“Hey, take it easy-”

“NO-” Their sudden outburst sends them back several feet. “I- I need to- I need to go.”

“Hold on-”

Tommy’s words fall on deaf ears, or rather, no ears. They’re gone in a flash. No warning. No goodbye.

Just like Mamá.

---

tag list: @choicesmc, @win-chan, @brycesgirl, @stars-are-within-me, @inlocusmads

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frogtanii · 4 years

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hq boys as the crimes they’d commit

warnings: CRIMES, crackfic, probably many typos idk i’m so tired lmaooo, cursing, drinking ??? idfk 😩💦

an: and i did this for what?? inspired by hq hcs royalty @sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock (AJSKSJ SORRY FOR TAGGING Y’ALL IF YOU SEE THIS, IT IS DEF NOT UP TO PAR W Y’ALLS WORKS ILY)

karasuno

sawamura daichi- insurance fraud!! somehow this is such a dad crime to commit?? dadchi didn’t try (dumb excuse, how do you accidentally commit insurance fraud smh) to commit insurance fraud but at one point in his late-thirties, he was very very broke and was already working as much as possible so, he decided to fake an ankle injury, as you do, and filed a bunch of claims which made him bank. daichi kept doing it until he was able to quit one of his jobs and buy himself a really nice suit and a rolex (uhhh 🥵). he somehow never got caught tho and to this day, none of his friends know how he was able to afford a tesla on a cop’s salary (sorry daichi but acab 😔✨)

sugawara kōshi- child abandonment!! ok you can try and fight me on this but i feel in my bones that suga absolutely despises children. he can tolerate ages 10+ but anything younger than that, he will punt them into the next dimension. the thing is, people just assume he likes kids because of how good he is with his team which is why his aunt begged him to babysit his nephew taro. taro was being an absolute brat when suga took him out for the day and he was 👉👈 this close to snapping. he put taro down for like 3 seconds to pay for their ice cream and when he turned back, the demon spawn was gone. he panicked, running around the park looking for taro when it turns out, taro was just bent down behind the bench. some random karen called the police and suga has never craved murder more.

nishinoya yuu- arson!! you CANNOT tell me nishinoya doesn’t have a ~murder~ playlist that he listens to to get himself hype (me too noya, me too). one night, he got a lil too hype listening to start a riot by duckwrth and watching demolition videos on youtube. he snuck out of his house to an empty shed like 30 minutes away and maybe... lit it on fire while genocide by lil darkie played on a speaker nearby. what he did NOT anticipate was the absolute size of the fire so he freaked out and called the firefighters who promptly called the police. he didn’t want to get grounded so he called daichi to bail him out. daichi still told noya’s parents 😔.

tanaka ryūnosuke- vandalism!! tanaka had been on alt tiktok and saw a group of cool friends spray painting an abandoned building. he thought “that’s cool, lemme do that!” but then he realized he had no friends (AHDGS JK I LOVE TANAKA). he asked nishinoya who was grounded from the arson incident and he knew he definitely couldn’t ask daichi, suga, asahi, or enoshita so he decided to go it alone. that proved to be a MASSIVE mistake. he got the supplies, arrived to the building of his choice (thanks saeko :3), and decided to spray paint a huge p3ni5 in bright red paint. he finished “successfully” and zoomed back home. what he didn’t realize with his two-and-a-half braincells is that he signed his glorious piece with his full name. the cops were at his house the next morning...🧍

hinata shoyō- forgery!! hinata did NOT think that forgery was even a crime. how was he supposed to know that he wasn’t allowed to copy his mom’s signature on a permission form! all he wanted was to go to an overnight training camp 😿

kageyama tobio- attempted murder!! kageyama swears it sounds worse than was and he is absolutely incorrect. what happened was so much worse. he and hinata were having a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater (you can’t tell me they haven’t done some dumbass shit like this) and kageyma lost almost instantly (he has the tiny lungs of an asthmatic). he didn’t want hinata to notice so he held hinata’s head under the water for like 10 seconds. suga walked in though, saw hinata thrashing around in the water and immediately called the police. kageyama never forgave him.

tsukishima kei- cyberbullying!! first of all, i had no idea you could get arrested for cyber bullying!? that being said, neither did tsukishima who spent 80% of his time making fun of people online (and on his real account!! bold). eventually one of the people he bullied (hinata) reported him on instagram and his very lame account was deleted (pls don’t bully people online 😤).

yamaguchi tadashi- shoplifting!! andjksh this is so funny because this scenario has happened to me and i can just SEE this happening to poor tadashi. yamaguchi gets super late night cravings (and usually tsukki will walk with him at like 3 am 🥺 nEWAYS) so he’ll sneak out and walk to the mini-mart near his house. one night, he was so tired but also super hungry so he went onto his nightly routine and basically sleepwalked into the store. he picked out his favorite chips and candy bar (which are sour cream&onion lays and milky ways in case you were wondering 😌✨) and just... walked out the store without paying. the store clerk was mysteriously missing so yamaguchi made it all the way home, ate half the bag of chips and passed out without realizing what he’d done. once he did, he cried for 2 hours straight.

nekoma

kuroo tetsurō- telemarketing fraud!! kuroo originally did telemarketing fraud as a joke?? like he was trying to prank call someone pretending that they had lost their information and they actually gave it to him??? he was mildly concerned but even more excited. he did it over and over again but he never used the info for anything. to this day, kuroo literally has a notebook full of credit card numbers and bank account passwords but he refuses to use it because he believes it’s ✨wrong✨(but it isn’t wrong to take all that information in the first place under false pretenses, not realizing that once people find out, they are forced to close credit cards and accounts but go off self righteous king). once he brought the book up to kenma and he offered to sell it on the dark web. now kuroo feels less bad about what he’s done! :D

kozume kenma- computer crime!! pfttt this one seems kinda obvious but what do you expect from kenma :). he spends so much time on the internet, he’s definitely picked up some less than legal skills that still help him now 👀. kenma did little mini crimes like getting into other people’s wifi but his crowning achievement was when he hacked into the minneapolis pd website and had it so when you opened the page, a black lives matter screen came up. he never told anyone that it was him who did it but he thinks it’s the best he’s ever done.

yaku morisuke- racketeering!! yaku, the feral king, ran an underground gambling ring in the basement of nekoma (do they have basements?? who knows! i don’t!) during his third year. the only reason it didn’t get shut down was because coach nekomata took a portion of yaku’s profits whenever he won (which was literally all the time). everyone on the team has lost money to him which is why they never play with him anymore. they won’t even let yaku play monopoly 😔.

haiba lev- indecent exposure!! poor lev’s head is so empty, he tends to fall for whatever pranks his senpai’s do to him. this time kuroo had somehow convinced him that in order to grow his schlong, he had to run outside naked for 10 minutes because the moonlight had special growing properties. lev was a lil scared ngl because he was already superrr tall and didn’t need to grow his height (or his dick ((boy is hung)) but poor lev is insecure) but he did it anyway. long story short, an old woman saw him parading around the neighborhood naked and called el policia. 0/10 dick did NOT grow and had to spend a night in jail naked 😿

aoba johsai

oikawa tōru- prostitution!! KAKKAKA iwazumi made fun of oikawa for being so shitty and said that he couldn’t pick up anyone if he tried. flattykawa took this as a personal challenge and went out onto the street, asking people if they’d have sex with him. with the way he was asking (and the way he was dressed), people assumed he was a paid w h o r e and someone eventually reported him. iwazumi had to pick oikawa up from the station- he never let him live this one down.

iwaizumi hajime- battery!! it wasn’t technically battery but oikawa is a lil bitch and overreacts (at least in his words -_-). the amount of times iwa-chan has beat the absolute shit out of oikawa is uNREAL. he just can’t handle the stupidity sometimes so he just smacks the crap outta him. not for real for real but the way oikawa reacts, you’d think a murder was occurring. one time, shittykawa screeched so loud, they got a noise complaint -_- hajime hates it in these streets.

matsukawa issei & hanamaki takahiro- conspiracy!! issei and hiro have a secret blog where they discuss conspiracy theories and such but one day, hiro found an article that explained how jfk’s death was an inside job. he sent it to issei who began to theorize how HE’D do it. that devolved into a massive thread on their blog of how’d they murder a president which blew up and caught the attention of the cia who sent the a letter telling them to quietly delete the blog. they did because they were terrified but they kept the letter and now it’s framed in issei’s apartment.

kyōtani kentarō- assault!! baby is an angry little boy but for all the right reasons. he was at a bar (when he’s all grown up, duh) and he spotted an absolute drunk creep hitting on a girl who clearlyyyy did not reciprocate his feelings. kyōtani, being the respectful king that he is, went over to the guy, pulled him by the jacket and beat. the. shit. out of him. while the bartender was happy with the fact that the creep was out, he was not impressed with the damage to his bar. he just sent kyōtani out who casually adjusted his leather jacket and rings, and hopped on his motorcycle to ride away into the night. i am the FATTEST simp for this man ONG 🥴

shiratorizawa

ushijima wakatoshi- stalking!! poor ushijima has no idea how intimidating he can be. he was on a train late at night after practice and the woman sitting across from him left her purse sitting on the seat. being the gentleman that he is, he took the purse and followed her to return it. the only problem is that the closer he got, the faster she ran and when he tried to speak (yknow with his scary, deep, baritone voice), the woman screeched and called the cops on him because he was a “strange, big man who was following her home.” when the police showed up, ushijima was painfully confused and just held up this tiny ass purse in his massive hands. the cops laughed.

tendō satori- ???!! no one knows what crimes (or how many 😳) tendō has committed but each of his teammates have different ideas- ushijima: “i don’t believe tendou is capable of committing any sort of felony. well, maybe murder”; semi: “of COURSE he’s capable of crimes??! do you know how many times i’ve seen him come into the dorm with a suspicious stain of red on his sweater?? *shudders* if i end up dead, tendō did it...” in actuality, the only crime tendō has committed is ~drugs~ but he’s not bouta tell his friends that.

goshiki tsutomu- would be a VICTIM!! my baby tsutomu would NEVER commit a crime!!! i love this man with my everything and the only crime he’s committed is being too damn cute 😤🥺

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