#its only right that ace is mr shock

[anbaisai]

don’t think I didn’t see those tags

https://x.com/prawn_r0ll/status/1853622671353008205?s=46&t=Pxs-JLNRx4XwAKMY2HRFZQ

woe thread orange cat ace be upon ye

I SAW THAT THREAD TOO YEAH

I've been SAYING like he's been orange cat coded since day 1 I'm so glad the agenda is spreading

2nd one is him opening the fridge in the middle of the night to steal tart again and seeing a camera

(1st one's reference is this)

[joeybsversion]

Pathetic

Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe and reader see each other again years later

“Well thanks, Michelle! It was good to see you.” You smile and grab your bag from the older ladies hands. “I’m glad we caught up on the Athens, Ohio drama.” You laughed.

“Good to see you too. Don’t wait 5 years before you come back next time!” She called after you.

You were back in your home town, Athens, OH for the weekend dealing with a family dilemma. Athens was a small town, it really only had 2 main roads, both lines with gas stations, locally owned shops, and a few hotels. You grew up shopping at this same grocery store. Michelle had worked here since you were little and she recognized you the second you walked in. It was great to catch up with an old friend, but you were ready to escape this little town. You had stopped to grab a few things before heading to the hotel across the street for the night.

With another quick smile and wave, you pressed your back against the door to open it before it was quickly pulled away from you, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall backwards.

“Shit. Sorry!” Familiar hands reached up and helped steady you.

“Its ok.” You turned and were immediately frozen in shock. “Joe.” You gasped.

“What… oh my go—“ he nervously fiddled with his hands. “Hey.” He greeted you, clearly caught off guard. “What are you doing here?”

“Family stuff.” You nervously spit out. “What about you? Don’t you have practice or something?” You questioned.

“Bye week. Came home to support the local football team in play offs.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Are you staying at your parents?”

“No. Actually have a room at the hotel across the street.” You nodded your head in that direction. “I know it’s not the fanciest but it has a bed, and TV, and AC..” you nervously blabber. “Actually was just headed back to grab a drink and some dinner.”

Joe turned to look at the hotel before his eyes met yours again. “I’ll walk you over there.”

“Joe.�� You laughed. “It’s literally 50 feet away. I’ll be fine.”

“I know… I just… would you… do you wanna catch up? Let me buy you a drink. It’s been what? 5 years since we’ve seen each other?” His eyes anxiously look around.

“Yeah sure.” You smile. “We probably have some catching up to do.”

You and Joe had dated for 4 years before you both left for colleges across the country from each other. He was now an NFL Quarterback and you were a wedding photographer. The breakup was messy, neither of you really got closure, and you hadn’t spoken since.

You followed Joe across the street and slid into the booth across from him. The room was dimly lit, the table sticky with booze, and the waitress was nosy. It was clear she recognized Joe, but he gave her one look after she dropped off your first round of drinks and made it clear she wouldn’t bother you both.

“So.” He cleared his throat. “How have you been? What’re you up to these days.”

You pressed your glass of wine to your lips and took a sip. “I’ve been good. Super busy. Started my own wedding photography business and basically spend all my time editing pictures.”

“Wow.” His eyes were wide. “Congratulations. I know that was always your dream.”

“Speaking of dreams, congrats to you Mr. Quarterback.” You teased.

He laughed and took a drink, shaking his head. “Yeah. It’s been a crazy ride.” A smile spread across his face. If there was one thing you still admired about Joe it was how humble he was. He’s graduated college less than a year ago and was already leading an NFL team to victory. “So, do you have a husband? Boyfriend?” He paused. “Girlfriend? Significant other?”

You laughed. “No, just me right now.” Your cheeks turned bright red. “Are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” He flashed the gold band on his ring finger. “Got married last year, just welcomed our first little one a few months ago.”

“Holy cow!” Your heart was crushed. “Congrats!” You faked a smiled and motioned to the waitress another round of drinks was needed. “Tell me about them!” You really didn’t want more details, but were just trying to be nice.

“My wife”, he flipped his phone around and his Lock Screen lit up, flashing a perfect picture of his beautiful wife and precious baby, “is truly superwomen. She’s taken on the roll of mom and NFL wife without an issue.” He smiled. “And baby Scarlett is just perfect.”

“You have a beautiful family.” You admitted. “Are they here with you?”

“No, just me. Hard to travel with a new born.” He looked at his phone again. “Actually if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go call them quick and say goodnight?” You nodded and he excused himself from the table.

You quickly finished your second glass of wine. Not sure if your face was hot from the alcohol or because you were holding back so many emotions. 5 years ago there was no doubt in your mind you would be Joes wife. But here you are, in a stuffy hotel bar single and talking about his newborn.

“Can I actually just buy a bottle?” You questioned as the waitress made her way around again. “And he’ll take another as well.” You motioned to Joes empty cup as she made her way back behind the bar to get your request.

Your face was buried in your phone as you googled Joe and his wife.

“Ordered me another I see.” Joe smirked as he sat back down across from you.

You quickly stashed your phone back in your purse. “I figured you’d be game for another round.” You laughed.

You and Joe spent the next few hours catching up, sharing drinks, and laughing about all of your old memories. The bar would be closing soon and you needed to get to bed, you had a long drive ahead of you tomorrow.

“I’ll walk you to your room.” Joe helped you from your seat, both of you stumbling and extremely tipsy.

“Thanks, Joe.” You slurred and took his hand.

You slipped your way into the elevator and up to the 7th floor before leading Joe down the hallway to your room. “Here it is.” You turned to him.

Joe grabs you around the waist, his hands shaking as though he might break you.

“Do you want to come in?” You whisper, your eyes locked on his.

He nods, his fingers still trembling and locked in your hips.

“You know I’m not going to break, right? I’m not as delicate as you think I am.” You giggle.

“I still feel like I’m going to break you.” His grip loosens even more. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we’d be back here and-“

You place a finger to his lip, silencing him. “Kiss me.” You whisper.

Joe crashes your lips together. His hands hungrily tracing every inch of your body. He lifts you up and without hesitation you wrap your legs around his hips, falling onto him as he sits on the edge of the bed before laying back.

You spend the rest of the night tangled up with Joe, his lips attacking yours.

“You ever think about us?” Joe asks after your long night. Your both laying in bed as the sun peaks through the curtains.

“Of course I do.” You answer, your voice horse and your lips swollen. “I think a lot about how timing is everything. We had the love, we had the whole universe. We just weren’t ready for each other.”

You both look at each other. And just like back then, there is so much love in your eyes. And somehow, the timing is still not right. And it seems that’s how things will always be for you and Joe, your timing will always be a little off.

“I think you need to go.” You clear your throat and break the stare between you two.

“What do you mean?” Joe pulls you into him.

“This isn’t right. We both know that. I really think you need to go. You have a wife and a family Joe. This isn’t fair.”

“What’s not fair,” he says, rolling away from you and throwing the comforter off of his body, “is that your about of put your clothes on and force me to leave this room.” He stands from the bed. “And I don’t know why.”

You stare at him, eyes wide and nervous. “Joe.” You say softly. “This isn’t right. You have to go. You need to.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek. “I still believe we’ll get our second chance. Somehow, someway we’ll find each other again. It’s pathetic, really, how much I still hope it’s you and me in the end.”

[meganuzlockediary]

The Platinum Pokemon League

11/11/23

Aaron

Ok here goes nothing I hope I'm ready. Instead of starting with Houndoom I know that Yanmega is first and FAST so I send in Jolteon who can one shot with thunderbolt. This works perfectly meaning 1/5 is dowin already. In next is Heracross. I don't know what to expect here so I assume closs combat and switch into Gliscor. With the drop in Def that means Aerial ace OHKOs taking out a dangerous pokemon. Next in is Drapion and so I do a few calculations. We both 2HKO each other but I outspeed. I take the risk and I am right and two Earthquakes removes the drapion. Next in is Scizor, I switch to Bastiodon who tanks but I remember I can't toxic stall so I hope for a safe switch into houndoom which I get allowing me to outspeed and use flamethrower to OHKO both Scizor and Vespiquen. Not a walk over of a battle definitely needed thought but a success none the less.

Bertha

Ok Bertha! I start with Empoleon hoping for a bit of a sweep. Alas unlikely. Grass knot doesn't quite take out whiscash allowing it to get an earthpower. This means I probably can't survive an earthquake. Hippowdon comes in and sets up sandstorm. I go for surf anyway and get the OHKO. Gliscor comes in who can outspeed and take me out with Earthquake so I switch to my own gliscor avoiding it. We both use Ice fang but mine is first and freezes hers!!! She goes for a fill restore allowing me to heal lock and take her Gliscor out. Next up is Golem and it can't actually touch gliscor with its only move that would work being fire punch. So I earthquake to remove him. Rhyperior is last with a whole bunch of nasty moves including avalanche. Knowing its coming I switch back to empleon who eats it up and use surf to take it out. I get worried for a second that Sandstorm may save it but there was no need to worry. 2/4 elite members down.

Flint

Thank god not a terrible one! Finally I can sweep! Gliscor heads in vs Houndoom who is the worst he can face. I go for Swords dance to set up. Flame thrower does HALF DAMAGE! I'm shocked but now I'm fast and strong. I manage to OHKO houndoom and Magmortar. Infernape outspeeds scarily gets off a flare blitz which thankfully does not kill! only 23 hp off though. Earthquake can then OHKO the infernape and Flareon before rapidash who I do switch for as it goes for bounce. Empoleon goes in and can finish it with a slow surf. I'm pretty tense but I am happy it worked!

Lucian

Gosh, A lot of narrow misses so far the stress is up there. This time its time to pull in Froslass! I got choice specs from celestic townwhich should give me the edge. Doing so allows me to OHKO Mr. Mime. Bronzong comes in next who is super dangerous. My shadow ball does 50% damage and gets the sp. def drop which is very lucky because it uses calm mind! Another Shadow ball remove him. Next in is Espeon which is again and easy OHKO. Then comes in Gallade. I go for shadowball but cannot OHKO and take a real nasty Stone edge. I switch over to poseidon who can tank a second stone edge and chip away with surf. Here Gallade begins using drain punch and gets back a lot of health. I use this to pivot back into my very low froslass who is immune to the drain punch and can pull off the shadow ball to finish him off. Last in is the super fast Alakazam but also the only effective move Alakazam has on Froslass is psychic. So I switch to Houndoom, I must have not been thinking and press Flamethrower because Alakazam got burned and I can'r remember how. Knowing now that it will go to focus blast I can simply switch back and forth between froslass when Alakazam uses focus blast and Houndoom when he is using psychic and just watch the hp trickle down. Honestly type switching has been a blast this game.

Cynthia

Ok last one and I have no real plan here... surprisingly I'm not too worried now. I can let some go down but I'm scared I'm gonna fluff it!

Spoilers: I very nearly fluff it.

I start Bastiodon vs Spiritomb. I go toxic and slowly whittle the spiritomb down. Annoyingly she can out pace my damage thanks to full restores. After her first she switches out into Milotic which I cannot handle with Bastiodon and I really do not want to toxic thanks to Marvel scale. I switch to Jolteon who does about 50% damage with thunderbolt while taking the same from surf. Fortunately her second surf gets Jolteon down to 10 hp as I manage to finish Milotic off. With that comes in the dreaded Garchomp. I decide Oh! I know! I can use thunderwave to cripple it... its a ground type. I actually outspeed before going down to flame thrower. Dumb move but in the end I know Jolteon was going. I send in Empoleon hoping to get some damage with Ice beam. This is where I flunk I should use empoleon as earthquake bait and switch into gliscor, I decide to go for it and Empoleon is OHKO'd by Earthquake... Shit. Empoleon didn't have much use this battle anyway but would have been a solid back up pokemon. Down to 4 pokemon vs. 5 I switch into Gliscor. Fortunately Dragon rush only does about a third damage and two ice fangs from Gliscor takes Garchomp out! Win! Not over yet though. Togekiss comes in, Gliscor can't outpace much more damage but get a little chip on Togekiss he does go down to an air slash. I send in Froslass who finishes the job taking out togekiss before going down herself to Spiritomb. I deal a decent enough amount of damage to send in Houndoom. Annoyingly she heals but this means Houndoom can 2HKO to remove the creepy cauldron. This leaves two more with only a half health Bastiodon and Houndoom who until this point has been my weakest pokemon... but with lucario and Roserade left we just might do this!

I outspeed Lucario and OHKO!

I outspeed Roserade and... it falls into the red. Scared it's all over she only uses toxic! Another flamethrower OHKOs after Cynthia heals which means by the skin of my teeth I won!!!!

[wonscafe]

HOW TO MAKE YOUR ENHYPEN BOY HAPPY !

REQ. | pairing: enhypen x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, just fluff, fluff everywhere warnings: reminds you that you’re single

— aka ‘what enhypen wants to do as your bf’ ! also wow i had so much fun writing this omg ! @juysblog for header

HEESEUNG ー 이희승.

let him be playful with you. remind him of the maknae he was before he joined i-landーbring out his inner child and his playfulness and innocence. let him joke with you. let him laugh manically when you laugh at its corniness. let him pull juvenile pranks. let him giggle as you stare at him, deadpanned. let him clap his hands in excitement when you agree to play video games with him. let him glance at you from the corner of his eye, momentarily distracted by how you looked with your fluffy hair tucked underneath the massive headphones he let you borrow. let him teasingly tell you how terrible of a player you were, only to stare at you, mouth agape, when you surpass him. let him jokingly sulk and turn away from you when you attempt to hug him in faux comfort. let him nuzzle himself in your grasp and look at you with love and vulnerabilityーshowing you a side of him he so desperately tries to keep hidden from the members who depend on him as an older brother, and the world who sees him as enhypen’s ace and eldest member.

JAY ー 박정성.

let him spoil you. jay would love to keep spoiling his significant other: knowing he’s giving her everything that he can give—both emotionally and materialistically, because giving only one wouldn’t be enough for him. let him take you to fancy restaurants. let him see you blush when the receptionists refer to you as ‘mr. and mrs. park’. let him take you to paris; to italy; to japan; to the maldives. let him buy you that expensive dress you were eyeing in the mall. let him cover his head with a yelp as you smack him for spending so much money on you. let him lay you down and lather your back with oil, massaging you whenever you feel stressed. let him surprise you with baskets of your favorite treats when you get home. let him take you to that ball in austria and deny how difficult it was for him to secure the invitations. let him gift you with a family heir loom, kissing your forehead and telling you you were already a part of his family.

JAKE ー 심재윤.

let him take you to the park with layla. when his family comes to visit, let him take you there and let him see you play around with her. let him look at you with mild shock when you offer to walk her there. let him see you basically forget about him as you and layla play together in the grass. let his heart warm as he sees you happily giggling when layla licks your face affectionatelyーnot scrunching your nose in disgust like most people do. let him lay down a sheet of cloth on the grass for you to sit on as you nibble on the snacks you brought with you. let him pat layla’s head from where she was seated on your lap and giggling when she turns her head away from him to push into your arms. let him look at you, absolutely captivated, as you lovingly hug her and talk to her in a small voice. let him realize, right then and there, that you were the only one for him.

SUNGHOON ー 박성훈.

let him take you ice skating. ice skating is a big part if his lifeーit’s his first love. and you were the love of his life. the happiness he’d feel would be unimaginable. let him tightly grip your waist in attempt to help you balance. let him hold back a tiny little endeared smile when you slip and yelp, grabbing a hold of his arm in desperation. let him ease you into the middle of the skating rink, where he slowly lets go of you and laughs at your widened eyes and grabbing hands. let him skate circles around you, prodding you to catch him and earn a kiss in reward. let him pretend to skate slowly so you might have the slightest chance to catch him—and he’d have an excuse to kiss you. let him cradle your head gently when you both crash into the ice. let him warm you with his body heat when you leave the rink. let him leave a sweet kiss on your lips saying, ‘your lips were turning blue, that’s why i kissed you’.

SUNOO ー 김선우.

let him show you how dependable he can be. people often call him weak and feminine, and while that’s not a bad thing, he’d really love for you to see him as a reliable boyfriend. let him cook for you. let him hold you in his arms during thunderstorms. let him hide you in his chest during scary movies. let him carry your bags, your groceries, your books for school. let him kill all the insects that sneak into your house despite how much he wanted to hide behind you and scream. let him carry you on his back when your shoes begin scraping against the back of your heal. let him run to the store and wave away your objections as he puts ointment on the wound and covers it with a bandaid. let him make you soup when you’re sick. let him hold your face delicately whenever you cry. let him spin you around bridal style whenever there’s something to celebrate at home, and meet your eyes with a loving glint before you lean up and press a kiss to his lips.

JUNGWON ー 양정원.

let him introduce you to the people that mean the most to himーhis family; his grandmother, his parents, his sister, heck, even his dog. let him watch his mom greet you warmly at the entrance to his house. let him see her stack different foods on your plate because she decided she liked you immediately. let him see his grandma gift you with bracelets she made herself, and the smile on her face when she sees you and jungwon strap them to your wrists. let him see how unwilling maeumi was to leave your loving hold. let him nudge you playfully as you washed the dishes you offered wash after dinner. let him hide the fact that he knew his entire family were grinning at the pair of you from behind, if only to spare you the embarrassment. let him grin as his mother tells him she thought you were amazing; as his dad tells him to never lose you; as his sister urges him to marry you immediately; and as his grandmother tells him that if anyone was a perfect fit for him, it’d be you. let him admire how happy you looked chatting with the girls in his family, showing off the ring he gifted you on your second anniversaryーhe swore it’d be a diamond ring next time.

NI-KI ー 니-키.

let him teach you how to dance. even if you don’t dance, even if you dislike it, let him teach you. let him place his hands on your waist and sway you to the beat of the music. let him lift you up into the air. let him catch you when you fall. let him kiss you with held back laughter as you stumble. let him guide you through the moves with your back pressed against his torso and your forearms in his strong grip. let him massage your legs when they become sore. let him watch you dance to the choreography successfully with a proud smile decorating his face because that’s his girlfriend, everyone. let him feel fondness spread across his chest as both of his worlds converge in one practice room. make him happy by doing what makes him smile the most: dance.

© 2021 copyright. All rights reserved.

[little-fics]

Bee

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader; platonic!uncle!Tony

Summary: Reader is teetering the edge of a slip when her buddies Sam and Clint are mean to her, daddy stucky to the rescue

Warnings: age regression, scary bees, bottle, pacifier, anxiety, a little violence, angry!Steve (not at you), mean!sam and mean!clint, I may have missed some, read at your own risk

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: I had fun with this one! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer for my blog!

Life with Bucky and Steve was great, you'd officially been together for about a year, and they'd been your daddies about half that time. You didn't always regress, just when the world got a little too big and you needed to leave it all behind. The avengers didn't know about your coping mechanism, at your own request, save for Tony who has programmed Friday to detect when you're little and were about to do something that babies shouldn't do, such as cooking or showering because babies makes messes and get hurt. It was something you'd kept private and to yourself for a long time, and it took months to feel comfortable enough to talk with Steve and Bucky about it. You weren't always feeling little, and had the capability of being a very vital part to the team, but on your days off, it was easy to find yourself slipping into that headspace.

That's how you got to sitting on the balcony, slowly slipping into that headspace after a difficult mission. You'd woken up between Steve and Bucky, crawling out of the bed quietly, not quite feeling small but you know it's coming. Clint and Sam find you outside, sunbathing and staring at the clouds. Sam is the first one to come outside, Clint following close behind.

"Mornin' sunshine," Sam sits next to you, Clint moving to the other side of you, relaxing in his seat, Sam holding out a glass to you, "want some lemonade? I know that coffee makes you jittery on your days off." You take the glass, smiling at the yellow straw poking up from the top, "Thank you! And a straw!" You twiddle with it gently, pulling it out to take a sip. "Gosh," your shoulders sag and your head leans back in ecstasy, "Clint's lemonade is the best, thank you." Clint pointedly looks at Sam, smug, "Why thank you Y/n, I'm blushing." Sam scoffs, "You wouldn't have even made it if I didn't beg!" Clint shrugs, "I made food," he looks to you, "speaking of," he has you a plate with a sausage and egg biscuit. You tentatively take it from him, "Oh thank you, are you sure?" Clint laughs, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, honey, me and Sam already had some."

Once you finish your biscuit, you're back to staring at the pretty sky, sipping on your lemonade listening to Sam and Clint bicker back and forth. A bee comes out of nowhere, eliciting a small yelp from you and you're quickly standing from your seat. They're laughing, which hurt your feelings, the fear of the bee causing you to slip fully. You try to go inside but hear Sam speak to the AI, "Friday, lock patio doors under code Falcon," before you make it to the door. When you pull on it the door won't budge. "Sam," your voice is meek, "that's not funny," you whine and shake the door again, getting nervous over the buzzing around your lemonade on the table. "Friday, open the door." Clint laughs again, "It's just a bee, you've been shot before and you can't handle a bee?" A tear slips down your face, and you feel your heartbeat pick up.

You shake on the door, trying to get away from your mean friends, wiping a tear away, "Open the door Sam." He's laughing, he thinks this is funny, "It's just a bee, it'll be gone in a minute Y/n, it's fine." You shake the door more violently, and it's clear Sam wasn't going to open the door. You bring your hand to the bracelet that lays around your wrist, a fail safe if something is wrong, to immediately notify Steve and Bucky that you need them. You find the tiny sun charm, pressing the tiny button that notifies your daddies of your state of mind and that you're in trouble, different from the other charm, a moon, who notifies your boyfriends of an emergency.

Bucky is the first one to hear Friday, "Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers," he groans groggily, "Friday, it's too early for this, what is it?" Bucky reaches over to find just Steve, no tiny baby to love on as he hears Friday once more, "I am sorry Mr. Barnes, but it seems munchkin has requested your presence with signs of distress." Bucky's eyes snap open at the use of the programmed name for when you're in your little space, throwing the covers off and slapping Steve's shoulder. "Bucky, what the-" Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky is already out the door, he's quickly behind him, not bothering to put a shirt on, as Bucky hadn't.

"Friday, where is munchkin?" Bucky spits, FRIDAY speaking up once more, "Munchkin is on the patio with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton." Their brows crunch together in confusion, Steve finally speaking up on their way to the patio, sleep still heavy in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Bucky shrugs nervously, "Friday said she was showing signs of distress." The system speaks up once more, "That is correct. Munchkin's heart rate seems to be elevated and she is showing signs of high stress. She notified me by her emergency contact Sun Ray." At this, Bucky and Steve speed up, trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

The bee is still there, attracted not only to the lemonade, but the brightly colored pajamas keeping its attention as it flies back and forth between you and the lemonade. When it flies towards you, you hide in the corner of the patio, screaming, running to the other corner to hide from it when it follows you, a tear streaking down your face. Sam sees the stray tear, immediately his stomach sinking while you're piddling with your bracelet, ignoring the tears on your face, not hearing Sam when he stands and calls out gently, "Friday unlock the doors." Sam's in front of you, "Let's go inside, come on." When he reaches for you, you flinch back from him, causing his heart to break a little. You're now frantically pushing the button on your charm.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, munchkin has sent a distress call 13 times, up to 17, 23," and then they're at the doors to the patio, slinging them open.

Bucky takes in your appearance, you look afraid, tears freely streaming down your face, now surrounded by Clint and Sam, who are violently moved by Bucky. He's lifting you by your thighs, bringing them around his waist, glaring at Sam and Clint before carrying you inside. When you're back inside, feeling the rush of AC, you let loose, heavy thick tears falling with sobs. "Shhh my little bunny, I've got you."

Steve remains on the porch, staring at a shell shocked Sam and Clint, "What happened?" They shrug, "It was just a bee, we didn't know it would scare her so bad." Steve rolls his eyes at the men, following Bucky back to your room. When he gets there, you're straddling Bucky on the bed, hands tucked under you, fists balled up tightly, hiccuping sobs. "'S mean," Bucky is rubbing your back, shushing softly while you try to explain what happened, "wouldn't let me 'nside daddy, I try." More sobs erupt from you, Steve's brow furrowing, wondering what you meant.

"Friday, show me what happened with munchkin on the patio before Sun Ray was activated." He watches as the TV screen starts playing the scene, fury creeping up in his bones, while Bucky continued to console you, but matching the fire Steve has in his eyes. Steve saunters out of the room when the TV shuts off, heading straight for Sam and Clint. Bucky holds you closer when you whimper, "Oh doll, dada will be right back, he's just gonna go get you something to drink." You continue to sob, you refused to take your pacifier, dropping it out of your mouth every time he tried to put it in, sobs not allowing it to stay. "Baby baby baby, you're okay, that little bee isn't gonna getcha in here, only daddy." He tries to tickle you, but you just sob louder. He's thankful for the soundproof walls, knowing you don't like to draw attention.

Steve finds Sam and Clint in the common room with Nat and Tony. Tony stands when he sees Steve, anger on his face still shirtless. Steve comes up from behind Sam and Clint, grabbing their shirts roughly, pulling them up and off the couch, feet dangling a foot above the floor, turning them to face him. They're shouting, trying to get Steve to let go. Tony is trying to pull Sam away from him, Nat trying to hit his weak spots so he will drop Clint but he doesn't budge.

"Did you think it was funny?" Steve spits, bringing his face closer to theirs, "Did you? You think it was funny when she cried? Think it was funny when she screamed and pulled on the door? How would you feel huh? If someone laughed at you because you were scared? If your friends laughed at you?" Tony and Nat are confused, "Steve calm down, what happened?" Steve scowls, overpowering the men easily as he turns them around, still holding them in the air. "Friday, pull up the patio clip and my bedroom feed on the common room television."

"Voice identification confirmed. One moment." The video starts playing, but all they can hear are your sobs, not able to hear the small consoling your daddy is trying or the talk from the patio clip as it plays. "Is it still funny bird boy? Is it still funny when you know you're the reason she's like this? No? Good." Steve throws them down on the couch, Tony is furious, Nat is scolding them, and Steve's on his way into the kitchen.

Tony follows Steve after shutting off the video feed, Nat still scolding the two perpetrators. Steve is piddling around, heating up some milk in the microwave. "You okay man?" Tony asks, placing a hand on his back, when Steve glares at him Tony sighs. "Man you can't go back to her seething like this." Steve lets out a huff, "I've never wanted to throttle someone like I do right now." He grabs the milk from the microwave, mixing some hot chocolate power in it, something that frequently happens when you're having a very bad day. Tony hands Steve a bottle, hidden in a thin cabinet, only unlocked by four people in the tower; Uncle Tony, your daddies, and you. "She's your baby, and she hasn't stopped crying because her buddies were mean to her and she doesn't understand, if you go in there angry, she will think you're mad at her." Tony chides, Steve, resonating with Tony's words, takes a deep breath, filling up your bottle and continuing to shake it. "Want me to come cheer her up with you?" Steve sighs, "Let us calm her down a bit, get her feeling right and we'll play some games later yeah?" Tony starts to rummage through the fridge, "Have Friday notify me." Steve nods, leaving Tony and going back to his baby.

When he opens the door, you're still crying, but when Steve sits he pulls you into his lap, holding you like a baby and rocking you. "Shhh, it's okay baby, I know they were mean, but papa's here now. It's okay," he's rubbing your face gently, your sobs turned to weak whimpers. "That's it baby, you want some milk?" You nuzzle into his chest, Bucky taking a sip of the bottle making sure it's not too hot and gives it back to Steve. He holds the tip to your lips, you instantly wrap your lips around it and hum happily.

"There she is, sweet girl," his fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently while Bucky rubs your legs with a feather light touch. You hiccup on the milk, Steve moving it away from you and wiping away a stray tear. Your fingers clutch around his shoulder, whining, "Papa." He coos at you, "Drinking too fast aren't we love?" You let out another whine, your bottom lip wobbling, "Pease papa." He traces your jawline before bringing the bottle back to your lips, "Slower, you hear me dove?" You nod gently, closing your eyes and continuing to drink the bottle.

You're teetering on the edge of sleep, Steve wiping away a drop of milk that finds its way to the corner of your mouth. He takes the bottle very carefully, stopping when you suck on it a little harder, trying to hold it in your mouth. "Bunny," Bucky's voice sings to you, "let daddy have that, okay?" Steve tries to pull it away again, this time with no fight, Bucky pressing your pacifier to your lips, which you take happily. He clips it to the top of your pajama shirt so if you drop it, it'll stay relatively within reach. "Friday, put on munchkins lullaby playlist."

Soft music starts playing through the room, bringing you all the way under, soft snores against Steves chest alerting them to your slumber. "Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton are outside, requesting entrance." Bucky rolls his eyes as he slides back down into the bed, "Friday, decline entrance and leave us be to nap for an hour." Steve moves you to Bucky, your sleeping form habitually wrapping around him and his warmth. Steve huddles behind you, wrapping his arm over you and resting it on Bucky, rubbing small circles. "She's gonna be a handful today," Steve comments, letting Bucky know that he thinks today is going to be one of those days where you regress further than usual. "She's gonna have such a good time with Tony." Bucky laughs, his eyes flutter shut, "Don't count her daddies short."

[middleearthpixie]

Good Trouble ~ Chapter Three

Durin’s Garage AU - Good Trouble ~ Part 3

Modern Spin on The Hobbit

Summary: When your car breaks down, there is only one garage in town - Durin’s Garage and Engine Repairs. And sometimes, they do more than just tune your engine, check your oil, and top off your fluids…

Everyone in town knows Durin’s Garage and Engine Repairs is THE place to go when your car needs work, and everyone knows that Dwalin Fundinson is to be avoided outside of the garage. He’s an ace mechanic, but trouble otherwise.

Your first date is coming, and you’re both a little nervous about it.

Pairing: Modern!Dwalin x reader

Warning: None - just some sweet fluffy fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

Khuzdal translations: Mesmel - my jewel of jewels

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

If you wish to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know.

The flat-bed truck rattled like an empty cracker box as Dwalin steered along Route Seven, which was the main road in and out of town. He had the radio playing loud enough to be heard with the windows open. Ozzy Osbourne’s Mr. Crowley. An oldie but a goodie. 

But, he barely heard the lyrics. Instead, his thoughts kept returning to you. He’d known the frat boy was going to be trouble when the bouncer tossed him last night, and it lay heavily on his mind when he’d paid his bill and left. He couldn’t stop worrying about you, worrying the pissed off kid with the serious attitude would come back and cause trouble for you.

His instinct turned out to be right, as usual, which was why he’d learned long ago to listen to it and trust it. It saved his ass more than once and now, it saved yours as well.

He’d been watching you for weeks now. He remembered the first time he saw you, not quite three months ago when he and Thorin had popped into the Dunraven after work one night. He’d been shocked to see Kelly was gone, and in her place, a woman who stole the breath from his lungs and rational thought from his mind without even trying.

You were tiny, and delicate, and he was sure he could lift you with one arm and when he helped you up from the pavement last night, he realized he wasn’t wrong. You were every bit as tiny and delicate as he imagined. 

And up close, you were even more beautiful than he thought. When you kissed him, he almost couldn’t believe it was really happened. Girls like you didn’t look at guys like him. Girls like you preferred the frat boys, the rich kids with their fancy sports cars and designer clothes, and big, bouffy hairstyles. 

He’d never been so glad to be wrong before.

As he came around a curve, he saw the box truck on the shoulder, its flashers on, and the man he presumed was the driver standing on the far side of the vehicle, looking pissed off. Hard to blame him. It snowed last night, but today the temps were expect to rise into the sixties. A beautiful day, with sunshine and blue skies and no one wanted to be stranded on the side of the road in weather like this. 

He rolled to a stop ahead of the box truck and climbed down. “Dwalin from Durin’s Garage and Engine Repair,” he called, slamming the door to the black cab shut. “Ye called for a lift?”

“Yeah. Son of a bitch crapped out on me.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Do I look like a mechanic?”

“Easy,” Dwalin held his hands up, palm out. “Some guys know enough. What happened?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “It began running rough about five miles back, at the rest stop. Then, when I got here, it up and died and now it won’t start. And I gotta be in Jamesburg by three.”

“Yer not making Jamesburg by three,” Dwalin replied, shaking his head. “Ye might want to call and let them know.”

The man sighed as he dug his cell from his front jeans pocket. “Son of a bitch!”

While he dialed and then complained into his Galaxy, Dwalin moved back to the flatbed, climbing into the cabin to start the hydraulics to lower the ramp. As it moved into place, he climbed back out, emergency triangles in one hand and road flares in the other, and set them out behind the box truck. He lit three of the flares to place parallel to the box truck as well. A few months ago, a driver in the next town had gotten killed trying to hook up a disabled vehicle, so Dwalin took no chances. 

Then he set to work hooking up the cables to draw the box truck onto the bed, climbed up into the box truck itself to set the transmission into neutral, and then return to the black flatbed again to winch it in and lock it into place. 

“Ye can ride with me,” he called to the man still yelling into his cell. The man just waved him off, and as Dwalin turned, he held his hand in front of his chest, middle finger extended, then moved to gather up the triangles, extinguish the flares, and climbed back in behind the flatbed’s wheel.

Finally, the man graced him with his presence, climbing up into the passenger seat and throwing himself down with a heavy sigh. “How far is the service station from here?”

“Not quite two miles,” Dwalin replied, turning over the engine and eased the transmission into first gear. As they slowly rocked back onto the road, he added, “Ye’ll have the best mechanics in the state working on this and it’ll be up and running before you know it.”

“Great. Too bad I’ll miss my drop-off time, which means I get to eat the inventory in there.”

Dwalin looked over at him. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that. But, it beats standing out on the side of the road. There’s a diner across the street where ye can get a bite to eat while Thorin or Kili takes a look.”

“Wonderful.”

Dwalin depressed the clutch, shifted into second, and then third, and little by little, worked his way up through the gears. There wasn’t much traffic out this morning, at least, not until they crossed the town line. Then the road grew clogged and he had to downshift. 

As Durin’s Garage came into sight, he slowed further, and carefully maneuvered the flatbed back into the lot, lining it up with the bay on the far right, which was recently vacated by a green Audi. They jerked back and forth slightly as he crept back, eyes trained on his mirrors. 

Then, they stopped and the air brakes hissed as they decompressed. The man climbed down as Thorin came out of the bay, wiping his hands on an oil-stained rag. “This the truck from Seven?”

 Dwalin nodded as he jumped down. “Yeah. I told him to go grab a bite across the street.” He nodded at the man, who was already halfway across Main Street. “He’s a real friendly sort.”

“The two of you must’ve got on great, then,” Thorin drawled, tucking the rag into the pocked of his Carhartt jumpsuit. 

“Funny.” Dwalin climbed up to begin unhooking the box truck. “So, how was yer night?”

Thorin grinned. “I’m not kissing and telling. Yours?”

“Ye know that bartender from the Dunraven?”

“The little one?” Thorin waited for him to nod, then said, “Yeah. What about her?”

Dwalin smiled and said, “Took her for a ride on my bike this morning.”

Thorin’s grin widened. “‘Bout time, my friend.”

“Yeah, well, I’m taking her out tonight. Dinner, I think. We’re going to the Nest. That’s not too dive-y, is it?” He unhooked the last cable, then moved to climb down. “Get in and I’ll lower ye.”

Thorin climbed up into the cab. “Dive-y?”

“Yeah.” Dwalin paused at the controls to lower the bed and unwind the winch, “ye know, the kind of place that ye'd find me, but would be surprised to find her there. I don’t think she does dive bars on her off days.”

Thorin shook his head. “She doesn’t do them on her work days, either. The Dunraven may be many things, but a dive bar is not one of them.”

“Do ye think she’ll like it?”

“I don’t know. She’s your date!”

Dwalin waited for Thorin to get settled, then he lowered the bed and set the winch to unspool while Thorin maneuvered the box truck carefully into the bay. Once the flat bed was empty, Dwalin rerolled the winch and set there be flat once more and then climbed back into the cab. But before he could put it into first, Kili came out of the office. “We got another one for you, Dwalin. A Chevy Suburban out on Kilmer that has no brakes.”

Thorin came out of the garage. “Not Abrams again.”

“‘Fraid so,” Kili grinned at him, “and she asked that you do the work yourself, Thorin.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve got plans for tonight and they do not involve Miss Abrams or her fucking SUV.”

Dwalin shook his head as Kili turned toward him. “I’ve also got plans, junior. This one is yers or Fili’s. I’ll go get her, but I’m droppin’ her in yer lap.”

Usually, on your off day, you ran all the errands you didn't have time to do during the days when you worked. Your normal shift was noon to ten, although sometimes on weekends you did six to two in the morning, when the Dunraven closed. 

And today was no exception when it came to those damned errands. You went to the bank, to the post office, returned a couple of library books before they were late, and as you came out of the library, you saw a big, shiny black flatbed with with words Durin’s Garage written in elegant gold script on the door, and caught sight of Dwalin behind the wheel. Your heart gave a weird little leap and your belly twisted in a way that reminded you of when you were in middle school and saw the boy you’d been crushing on all marking period. It’d been a long time since you felt those maddening butterflies, since just the sight of the guy you crushed on was enough to unleash them.

It had been such a wonderful night, even if you didn't get much sleep as a result. It was hard to complain, since good sex was absolutely worth a little sleep deprivation. 

He wanted to take you to the Nest. You’d never been there before and had no idea what it was like. What was the dress code? Casual? Formal? There were restaurants of all stripes in town, so neither one was too far out of the realm of the possible. 

And that left you in a quandary.

What did you wear? 

 This was the finest of lines you could walk. Too fancy, and he might think you a snob. Too causal, and you risk offending him by showing him you didn't think he would take you to a nice restaurant. Your relationship was so new, you had no idea how easily offended he might be, or how sensitive he might be about certain matters. The last thing you wanted to do was have him think you were judging him and finding him lacking, and the last thing you needed was him doing the same to you.

When you returned home, you had three more voice mails from your father. All were erased, unheard, and you sat on your sofa, cell phone in hand, trying to work up the nerve to call Dwalin. You hadn’t had this many butterflies in your belly since you were twelve and trying to call Jeff Moretti to ask him to borrow his science notes. Which was silly, really, because you already knew Dwalin wanted you to call him, already knew you would see him later.

And yet, you couldn’t make your fingers see reason. 

“Oh, you are such an ass,” you muttered, tapping the phone lightly against your forehead. “Just. Call. Him.”

It took you several more minutes of arguing with yourself before you finally pulled up the keypad and dialed. Another minute to hit send. Then you waited.

“The caller you have dialed is not available. At the tone, please leave a message. Thank you.”

You rolled your eyes and at the beep, said, “Hi there, it’s me. I was just calling to see how your—ah—day was going because I—um… I saw you out on the highway and I just thought it’d—it’d be—ah—nice to just say hi. So, hi?”

You winced as you hung up. You tried so hard to sound breezy and casual and you ended up sounding like a total tool. Well, maybe he’d think it was cute. Maybe.

You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. One of the selling points of your apartment was the size of the walk-in closet in your room. It was almost a small room in and of itself, and while you tried to keep it neat, sometimes your inner Oscar Madison came roaring to life and it looked like your closet vomited clothes everywhere.

With a sigh, you went back out to the living room to retrieve your phone and Googled the Nest to peruse its website. Casual. Jeans and a nice top would be just fine.

This time, the phone landed in the middle of your bed and returned to the closet, where you stood in the middle of it, forefinger pressed to your lips, and studied everything hanging neatly, arranged first by season, then by color. Winter was coming, although it was nearly sixty degrees outside now. By tonight it would be back in the thirties, most likely. Dwalin rode a motorcycle.

You were going to freeze. It didn't matter what you wore. You were doomed to becoming a popsicle. 

Of course, you did get to hold onto Dwalin, and that was nice. But, if your arms snapped off like icicles because of the cold, you’d not only fall off his bike, but you’d probably shatter when you hit the pavement as well. Not exactly a comforting thought.

But you’d worry about later. For now, you had to find the right thing to wear. Nothing too casual, nothing too fancy, nothing too boring, but nothing too sexy, either. First dates were a bitch to begin with, but this was worse when you’d already gone to bed with Dwalin. Now, it didn't really matter to a certain extent what you wore, because he’d already fucking seen you naked. 

Still, you chose and rejected about a dozen different outfits and jumped when the buzzer went off. You darted down the hallway to the living room before he thought you’d changed your mind about everything, and hit the intercom button, “Dwalin?”

“It’s me, yeah. Ye expecting someone else?”

“No. Of course not.” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, it’s habit. Come on up.”

You pushed the button that would unlock the double glass doors in the vestibule, and waited for the knock on the front door, tugging it open when it came. “I’m here, sorry about that.”

He smiled. “Sorry about what?” 

“Just.. uh…” you winced, “everything? It’s been a long day. Come on in.”

He stepped inside and let out a low whistle. “Damn… This makes my place look like a dump.”

“Oh, stop it, your place is perfectly nice and you know it.” You closed the door behind him, leaning against it as you watched him take in the large living room, which was almost twice the size of the one in his apartment. You flinched again, trying to see it thorough his eyes and being hopelessly embarrassed by it. His apartment offered up warmth and hominess, but yours? Yours was cold and impersonal, the arctic white walls and dark gray trim chosen by the interior decorator your father hired, not you. But since it technically wasn’t your apartment, changing it was out of the question. If he saw it, you’d never hear the end of it. 

“I don’t know,” he said, gesturing to the dark gray sectional sofa that almost perfectly matched the trim. “This looks like something out of a magazine.”

You sighed, pushing away from the door. “It’s my father’s doing. He chose everything about it from the paint colors to the location. He wanted me to be safe because he—he worries. You know how fathers can be. Always afraid I’ll be murdered in my own bed.”

“I don’t have any sisters.” He stared up at the painting hanging over the fireplace. “Only a brother and our father never worried we’d be murdered in our beds.” 

He glanced over one shoulder at you. “Is that ye?”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you slowly nodded. The portrait was of you and your parents, done when you were still a gawky teenager and you hated it but if you took it down, the next time your father came to call, you knew you’d hear about it. So the ugly duckling stayed on the wall.

“Ye were cute.” He turned to you, shrugging out of his heavy leather jacket tp drape it over the arm of the sofa. 

“Cute? I look like a troll there.”

“Nah,” he crossed over to you, arms folded as he peered down at you, “A goblin, maybe, but not a troll.”

“Oh, that’s much better,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “thank you.”

“Lucky for ye, I’ve a soft spot for goblins.”

“You know, I don’t think I want to go out with you tonight.”

A low chuckle rolled your way and he caught your cheeks between his palms. “It sounded better in my head.”

“It should’ve stayed there.” You couldn’t resist smiling as his thumbs swept along your cheekbones. They were so light, so gentle, you almost couldn’t feel it, but with each graze, you seemed to grow a little warmer. No man ever had this effect on you before. He only had to gaze at you with those piercing blue eyes, and your heart skipped a beat, your blood warmed by several degrees, and an unfamiliar heat swelled between your legs. 

His cologne touched your nose—a sexy combination of sandalwood and hints of patchouli—and that only made the heat warmer still. He also looked almost edible in faded Levi’s and a black henley, which he’d left unbuttoned enough to allow a hint of silver-tipped chest hair to peek up.

He leaned toward you, his lips soft and teasing when they met yours. On their own, your fingers curved about his massive forearms, your lips parting at the slight pressure of his tongue against them. His fingers stretched into your hair, his kiss deepening as his tongue skimmed along yours, as it teased yours with a slow, silken caress. He absolutely knew how to kiss, knew just how to tease and taste and stroke to start a low, pleasant hum through your body. As his lips moved so softly against yours, your hips arced toward his, sought out that part of him that just made you want to melt at his feet. 

You slid your hands down his forearms, eased your arms about his waist, your heart skipping a beat when he pulled away. “We should go now, mesmel,” his whisper was low and growly, “for if I keep kissing ye, we are not leaving this apartment.”

His kiss, his words, left you somewhat breathless. “Mesmel?”

He brushed your lips once more, then stepped back. “Ye wouldn’t believe me if I told ye.”

“Try me.”

“Later.” He picked up his jacket to shrug into, then added, “Ready?”

“Dwalin,” you leveled a long look at him, “what does it mean?”

He looked about. “Where is your coat?”

“Dwalin!”

A hint of color appeared along his cheekbones above his bushy dark beard and he took a deep breath before saying, “It means my jewel of jewels.”

That was not what you expected and you just stared at him for a long moment, your face growing warm. No one ever said anything remotely similar to that to you. “In… what language?”

Draping the leather jacket over his arm, he said, “Khuzdul. It’s an old language, passed down through my family for generations. Not many speak it these days.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t. As I said, it’s almost a dead language.”

“But you speak it? Fluently?”

“I do, yes.” He shrugged into his jacket. “If ye like, I can teach ye some of it.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I did, mesmel. 

“Mesmel.” You smiled then, moving to stand before him, a hand resting on his chest. “Is that how you see me? Already?”

“It’s how I’ve seen ye since the first time I saw ye, if that makes any sense.”

“It does.” 

“I told ye I wanted to ask ye out for a long time. Just never had the balls to do it before now.” He glanced down at the long, black wool coat you’d draped over the sofa arm earlier. “We should go.”

Before you could reach for it, he swept the coat up and held it out for you. With a smile, you shrugged into it and then spun about to brush his cheek with a kiss. “I’m glad you finally found the balls, Dwalin.”

He grinned. “Makes two of us.”

You locked the door behind you and led him to the elevator. Once you were outside, you shivered as the wind had picked up to send leaves scuttling along the sidewalk, but as you scanned the parking lot, you didn't see the Harley. “Where’s your bike? 

“Ye didn’t think I’d actually make ye ride on the back of it in this weather, did you?” He dug a set of car keys from his jacket pocket and led you over to a sleek, black Corvette Stingray. You looked up to find him grinning at you.

“So, wait.” You gestured toward the Corvette. “This is yours, but you walked to the bar last night anyway??

“Yeah. I don’t mind walking. Especially in the snow. I'd rather walk than risk cracking this up. It took me two years to restore her.”

“Wait? You did this?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. I work with cars, remember?” 

“Well, I know, but... damn…” You took in the Stingray's sleek lines and mint-condition. “What year is this?” 

“Seventy-five.” 

“Dwalin.”

“What? I really don't mind being out in the cold. This is my time of the year, so I’m perfectly fine with walking in it.”

“You’re nuts.”

“So I’ve been told.”

You nodded at the ’Vette. “And this is yours?”

“It’s mine.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “And here I thought I’d be freezing my ass off hanging onto you on the back of a motorcycle.”

“Do I look that crazy? It’s too damn cold to ride at night now. But,” he draped an arm about your neck and pulled you close to brush your lips with before growling, "when the weather gets warmer, yer going to be hanging on to me very chance we get.” 

“I don’t think I’ll mind that all that much,” you told him, smiling as he kissed you again. “I kind of like the feeling of holding on to you.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He grinned, pulling back. “Let’s go, before they give our table away and we end up sitting near the kitchen.”

[themadearl]

Imagine their reactions when hearing Yuu curse. Its not her first time but its her first time ever since coming to Twisted Wonderland. She just doesn’t want to look bad at front of them. Like maybe someone pissed her a lot where she cant hold herself from cursing anymore.

The contrast of nice little ol’ Yuu and that she says the no no word. 

Yuu is very well-behaved and polite to everyone

She’s the poster child of a model student 

So pardon the twst bois for freaking the fuck out when she starts throwing hands with one of the students that’s been constantly talking down to her 

“Got any more fucking words for me, huh? Wanna keep your mouth shut next time asshole?”

The 1st year gang right next to her: oh no

The seniors looking at Yuu beating the other student: oh no

The teacher at the front: well fuck

Ace and Jack is shocked as if their child said their first curse word

Deuce and Epel thinks the other guy probably deserved it but is still shocked Yuu swore

Sebek is too dumbfounded to react

It’s only until Yuu finally noticed the sudden quietness around her that she realized everyone was staring at her and probably heard everything she said

Oops

Yuu just drops the other student back to the ground and goes back to her seat like nothing happened

“You can continue teaching now, Mr Trein.”

The class continues in total silence which was pretty good for Trein

“Are you okay, Yuu?” “Yeap.”

“You sure?” “I’m really fine.”

For the next few days, NRC students don’t really dare to come close to Yuu

Ace & Deuce try their best not to piss Yuu off

Grim already got used to it due to staying together with Yuu

[sanyu-thewitch05]

A New Fairyatle: Where Another Love Potion Is Made

Chapter 1: The Girl Who Captured A Star

Chapter 2: In Which There’s A Bit Of Witchcraft

"Yuu! Yuu, wake up!" Phillip screams, shaking the unconscious Yuu. "Someone get the nurse!"

Yuu wakes up in Phillip's arms, surrounded by Malleus, Ace, and Deuce.

"Yuu, what were you thinking?! Attempting old witchcraft like that! You could've gotten seriously hurt!" Phillip yells, stroking Yuu's head. "Oh my God! You're bleeding!"

"Phillip! I did magic! I can do magic!" Yuu exclaims, realizing she can be like everyone else.

Yuu's body starts to levitate in happiness, and Phillip keeps a tight grip on her.

"No more...no more! I tell you so many times to stop, but you keep doing it! You don't need to help everyone! You don't need to be a hero!" Phillip exclaims, tightly hugging Yuu.

"I didn't know you feel that way. I'll try to be more careful next time," Yuu responds, genuinely surprised Phillip feels that way.

"I thought I made my feelings about you and dangerous activities weeks ago?" Phillip mumbles, helping Yuu clean up by picking the candles off the floor.

~~~~~~

Phillip and Yuu had gone to Professor Crewel for a potion to get rid of Yuu's headache. When they walk inside, Professor Crewel is instructing Malleus on how to make a love potion.

"Add in the fourth dove feather, and you should be-OW!" Crewel exclaims, tripping over his fur coat, knocking over the cauldron, and spilling its contents onto Malleus and Phillip.

Oh, for fucks sake!

"Yuu...let's get married!" Phillip exclaims, clasping both of Yuu's hands.

"Malleus, are you ok?" Yuu asks, looking at Malleus, who has a face full of shock.

"Surprisingly, yeah. I only got it on my clothes, not in my mouth," Malleus answers, looking at his stained lab uniform. "Do you want any help with Mr. Prince Charming?"

"Yuu! Let's go pick out a wedding dress and venue! We could get married at my castle. That shall surely be wonderful, won't it?" Phillip rambles, picking up Yuu bridal style. "We have to pick what food we shall have at our wedding! There's so much to do!"

Phillip runs out of the room and to the Hall of Mirrors, attracting attention.

"Phillip, wait. We're only 16! Don't you think that's a bit early?" Yuu asks, attempting to stall Phillip.

"Nope! My Aunt Aurora got married at 16 and has lived happily ever after. Besides, our kingdom's Beltane festival is in 1 day. We'll have plenty of choices of flowers for our wedding!" Phillip replies, touching the center mirror. "Plus, we'll have time to prepare for a night full of sensual desires."

"Phillip!" Yuu yells, her eyes wide.

Malleus and Silver run into the Hall of Mirrors to stop Phillip, only to get ignored by Phillip.

"Hey! Brother, you're making a huge mistake! You're not you!" Silver exclaims, trying to stop Yuu from getting married. "Don't you think it is too early to marry! You should at least be engaged for some time first!"

"You're right. How could I be so foolish?! Yuu, my love, please forgive me for not buying a ring!" Phillip apologizes, getting down on one knee. "I'll take you to our local ring shop and purchase a ring that's truly deserving of being on your skin!"

Phillip leaps through the mirror, with Yuu and Silver jumping in after him. He travels through the village, dodging people and horse-drawn carriages. He walks into the ring shop and the lady at the front squeals.

"EEE! Merryweather! Fauna! Phillip has a girlfriend!" Flora squeals, jumping up and down a little. "Beltane is going to be more special this year! Especially with the return of Prince Silver!"

Yuu is pleasantly surprised by Flora's appearance. Instead of a greying woman with a large bust, Flora looks like she's 25 and has ankle-length auburn hair. There's a flower crown on her head, and she's wearing a brown medieval-styled dress.

Damn, these fairies really don't age!

Fauna and Merryweather both look as young as Flora, but Fauna has back-length brown hair while Merryweather has raven hair in a bun.

"Oh, I'm Phillip's girlfriend, Yuu. Phillip is under a love potion and wants to get married, so if you could kindly cure him, I would be thankful," Yuu says, getting sick of the love potion antics.

"Oh! Dear me, I'll fix this little problem right now!" Merryweather states, pulling out her magic wand and tapping Phillip on the head. "That should be it!"

Phillip blinks and goes back to convincing Flora of getting Yuu an engagement ring.

"Why didn't it work?" Merryweather asks, a dumbfounded look spreading to her face.

"It didn't work because you always fuck up your spells!" Fauna scolds, smacking Merryweather on top of the head. "If you want to fix Phillip, give him a true love's kiss!"

"You know what, I'm about tired of your bitch-" Merryweather yells, beginning to take off her shoes only to get bodyslammed by Fauna.

"Can I please have an engagement ring? Can I please get an engagement ring?!" Phillip asks, trying to get Merryweather's and Fauna's attention as they brawl.

"Would you two stop it! Yuu, the potion will wear off on its own! Just tolerate Phillip until the afternoon!" Flora screams, pulling Merryweather and Fauna off of each other. "Just great! Lilia's here! Merryweather, you're on your own!"

Merryweather looks at Lilia, who's smirking at her.

"Well, you haven't aged a day since we met. So, are you still up for that date?" Lilia flirts, kissing Merryweather's hand. "I'm still willing to accept, even after 130 years."

"In your dreams!" Merryweather retorts, snatching her hand away from Lilia.

"I think that can be arranged," Lilia replies, giving his classic child-like smile.

"Father!" Silver exclaims, disgusted with his old man.

His antics never do stop, do they?

"Let's go, Phillip. I want to shop at the other stores. Do you want to come with me, Silver?" Yuu asks, her right arm weighed down by Phillip's grip.

"Yes! Hurry before Lilia realizes we're gone!" Silver answers, running out of the shop as Merryweather and Lilia begin their daily one-sided flirtation. "He's so embarrassing sometimes."

Yuu spots a clothing store having a Beltane special and runs inside with Phillip and Silver. Of course, Phillip and Silver serve as Yuu's bag holders.

~~~~~~

"How do I look?" Yuu asks, twirling around in a flowy white beach dress and wearing a white hat.

"I like it. Phillip, what about you?" Silver asks, sitting down on a small couch.

"It looks beautiful! The dress is perfect for our wedding on the beach!" Phillip exclaims, earning a sigh from Silver. "Wait...what am I doing back home?"

"Hooray! We have Phillip back!" Silver and Yuu exclaim, clapping their hands.

"Flora was right. The love potion did wear off in such a short time too!" Yuu says, glad it didn't end like last time. "Oh, my Goood! Merryweather and Lilia are walking together!"

Silver whips his head around and gets wide-eyed at the sight of the two short fairies walking together as if they're a couple. Phillip begins to gag.

"We have to investigate!" Silver and Phillip growl, standing up and rushing out of the store.

Yuu pays for her clothes and runs after Silver and his brother. Phillip stomps through the forest until he comes to a field of flowers and grass.

"Lilia!" Merryweather screams, making the three teenagers concerned.

Yuu, Silver, and Phillip run to where they hear Merryweather's voice and scream in terror. Yuu covers her eyes while Phillip shrieks while gagging. Meanwhile, Silver is just staring wide-eyed.

"What the fuck, man! That's-that's my godmother!" Silver screams as Lilia removes his genitals from Merryweather's crotch.

"Son, is it really so strange for a mother and father to fuck each other?" Lilia asks, putting his trousers back on. "Besides, you can have a mother now."

Silver passes out, and his unconscious body rolls down the field. However, Yuu and Phillip had already run away from the sheer fright.

Tag list: @pookiedragonfire @lizzileth @hipsterteller @nerdy-diamonds @kingfargas @marrondrawsalot @justarandomhumaninthisworld @otaku-explosion @shi-mel @nai17 @iwant2dienow @naughtybodypillow @felfei @tinnyflute @r-0-tt-3-n-m-1-lk @iamfriedpotato @sweettooth-87 @otaku-twistedwonderland

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Hold Me Tighter ||3||

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Peter and reader have a talk and Bucky overhears. 

Warnings: Swearing I think? A big of angst, fluff, Buck jumping to conclusions bc he’s a soft dummie...

A/N: Hej hej friends, it’s been a bit since i’ve posted something. My life has been wild and though i’ve been working on various things I have yet to complete said various things. Hopefully posting this gets me back into the groove. Please enjoy and give me feedback as its very much appreciated!! <3

Part ||1||   Part ||2||

~~~~~~

“Do you have an ace?” 

“Nope, go fish,” 

“Do you have a crush on Bucky?” 

You almost drop your hand full of cards on the ground as the words leave the man's mouth. 

“Wha-Peter!” 

“What? It kinda looks obvious, on both sides, but it’s like you guys or holding back or something,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly as he plucks a card from the deck before laying down another set of matches. 

You pout, “Why are you so good at this game?” 

“Answer my question first,” He laughs lightly while playfully nudging your shoulder with his fist. 

You and Peter had been the ones left at the tower while the team was on their latest mission. You felt grateful for the company, or at least you did before he started asking questions while he taught you how to play various card games. The pair of you sat facing each other, legs crossed and knees almost touching as the deck of cards sat in the middle. 

“I dunno… Maybe?” You could feel the fire in your cheeks and ears as you answered, forgetting to ask if Pete had a card and taking straight from the deck instead. 

Peter smiled widely and set down the few cards he still had, putting his full attention on you, “That’s great, Y/n! I think he likes you too! Why haven’t you guys gotten together yet? You spend like every day with each other when Bucky isn’t on a mission. He even cooks for you all the time and I’ve never seen him do that with anyone-” 

“Peter, it's not like that. I’m pretty sure he just thinks of me as like… A charity case or something. He’s helped me a lot since I’ve gotten here but it was solely because he felt obligated too. Kind of like when you find a puppy on the street,” You set your cards down to the side as well, using your free hands to nervously tangle your fingers together. 

“That's ridiculous! Y/n he calls you pet names all the time, he carries you around, I even saw him kiss your cheek before he left!” Peter points an accusatory finger at you. 

Your eyes widen in shock and you stutter before responding, “Why are you paying so much attention to us? It’s weird how much you notice...And besides, lately he hasn’t really been the same. He tells me that he’s always busy with training or meetings or something, and I get that it happens, especially with what you guys do! But it just feels like he’s been avoiding me lately,” 

“The whole team has noticed! You guys have done almost everything but make it official,” The man sighs exasperatedly before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours, a silly habit the two of you developed for serious conversations, making you giggle a bit before pushing back, “You should talk with him about it dude,”

You keep your forehead pressed against Pete's, sighing quietly before responding, “I just think… If he doesn’t feel the same way, then everything is going to change. He won’t want to spend time with me anymore, or talk to me, he won’t wanna watch movies with me… He just- he won’t be able to think of me as more than just the silly mutant that’s been obsessed with him for as long as she’s known him,” Your face had scrunched up into a scowl as you thought about what life would be like without Bucky by your side. 

“Hey, hey, hey! He won’t do that, I promise. Bucky isn’t like that, he’d never just start to ignore you or think of you as some obsessed girl. It’s obvious he cares about you a lot, and I think it would be good for both of you to talk about it,” 

“I wouldn’t even know where to start-”

“Start with how you feel, put it all out in the open,” Pete says confidently.

“That’s crazy!”

“How is it crazy?” 

“I can’t just go up to him and say, ‘Hey I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been deeply enthralled and have wanted to be with you since the first time we met!’” 

Peter was about to respond, but a deep voice interrupted, “Y/n?”

You and Pete pull your heads apart and gape at the tall brunette standing in the doorway, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown and his eyes full of confusion. “Bucky I-” 

He puts a hand up before you can continue, “I um-I gotta go shower. Sorry I interrupted you guys,” 

You sat frozen on the floor as Bucky quickly made his exit, Peter switching his gaze between you and the now empty doorway. “Oh my god-” he muttered in absolute bewilderment.

“Wh-what just happened? What should I do? Oh my god he hates me! He’ll never speak to me again-” 

“No! No, no, no it’s fine! Just a misunderstanding! You need to go after him and clear it up,” Peter tells you, hurriedly standing up before grabbing your hands and helping you stand. “You need to tell him everything Y/n. *Everything.*” 

You nod your head in agreement, starting for the doorway, “Thanks pete, I’ll see you later,” 

Peter’s response doesn’t quite register as you quickly walk down the maze of hallways, trying to find the fastest possible route to Bucky’s room. Your heart felt like it was pounding hard enough to escape your chest. 

You let out a yelp as you suddenly hit a wall, “Oh hey kid, you seen Barnes yet? He was lookin for ya,” Tony’s hands are on each of your arms to steady you as he begins to ask how your week with Peter went. 

You can’t focus on any of his questions, solely focused on fixing the mess you had made. 

“Kid? You okay?” Tony steps closer to you, his overbearing father coming out as he reaches up to check your temperature, “hmm maybe we should get you to med, you feel a little hot,” 

“Tony I’m fine-” You try and back out of his grasp but he holds onto you firmly. 

“Hey if you’re gettin’ a fever we want to catch it quick-” 

“I don’t have a fever, please-” 

“C’mon, it’ll only take a minute,”

“Oh my god, goodbye!” You huff out before pushing Tony away from you and using your power to disappear from the hallway. 

Tony lets out an annoyed sigh, “If you get anyone else sick you’re the one who’s taking care of them!” he shouts into the empty space. 

You however, had already popped up outside of Bucky’s door, your hands clenched into fists of stress and nerves. Your right hand went to open the door but when you tried to twist the handle it didn’t budge. 

“Friday can you let me in?”

“Mr. Barnes has specified to not be bothered for the time being,” The AI responded simply. 

You let out a huff of frustration, “Okay well it’s either you unlock the door and let me in or I just pop up in there, so…”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the quiet click of the door unlocking, making you smile victoriously, “Thank you, Friday,” 

Bucky was still in the bathroom with the door closed when you had entered his room. You took a quick look around before deciding to sit on the bed and wait for him to be done. Your fingers began to tangle and pull at themselves in a stressful manner and you couldn’t help the tight feeling in your chest. It only got worse when you heard the running water turn off and the sound of Bucky drying and dressing himself. 

When Bucky opens the door, the both of you freeze in place, eyes locked on to each other for what felt like ages. 

Bucky is the first to break eye contact and move, “I thought I told Friday I didn’t want any visitors,” he mumbles quietly, going over to toss the damp towel in his hands into a laundry hamper.

“I uh- I told her I would just pop in anyways…” 

“Shouldn’t invade people's privacy like that, kid,” his cold tone made you cringe, “can’t start abusing your power like that,”

“Listen Bucky, I came here to explain-” 

“You don’t gotta explain anything to me. I saw what I saw, it’s not a big deal,” he interrupts you and avoids your eyes as he begins to unpack from his mission. 

“Except I think you might not understand entirely-” you begin only to be interrupted again. 

“No! No, I get it. Pete is a good kid, good morals, good background. I can see why you’d like him, it makes sense,” Bucky’s voice was clearly stressed as he spoke and it just made your chest tighten even more. 

“Bucky no-” 

“He’s closer to your age, you have a lot in common, spend a lot of time together…”

“Why is everyone interrupting me today?” you groan out in frustration before getting up off of the bed and walking over to the disgruntled man. 

You move to sit on the other side of the duffle bag he continues to empty, still avoiding your eyes. You let out a huff of annoyance and quickly grab hold of Bucky's hands, bringing them to a pause. 

“Kid, I gotta unpack-”

“No. Not until you let me say what I need to say. Without interrupting me,” You state firmly.

Bucky visibly clenches his jaw, giving you a small nod to continue, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter-” 

“Yes I di-” “What did I just say? No interruptions!” 

Bucky sighs, “Sorry,” 

You take another breath before restarting, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter. You heard me telling him about what I’d say to someone else,” 

Bucky’s face scrunches up in confusion as he replays your words in his head, trying to put the pieces together, but failing. “Who were you going to say-” 

“You! Ya big dummy. I was telling Peter what I would say to you,” You blurt out with a breath of exasperation. 

Bucky shook his head, as if to try and wake himself up from a daydream, “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Of course I am, Buck. I- Peter said that it would be good for the both of us if I admitted my true feelings for you, and I didn’t know what I would say, so he suggested that I just flat out tell you, and…” You trail off, hoping the older can figure out the rest on his own. 

“And that’s when I walked in? When you had figured out what exactly you’d say?” 

“More or less, yeah,” you answer quietly, giving Bucky’s hands a gentle squeeze to try and bring even more reassurance. 

“Why were you so close to each other?” You looked back up to Bucky, a smile gracing your features as his gaze finally met yours. 

“Because we were having a serious discussion. Isn’t that what everyone does?” You ask, brows slightly knit in confusion.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “No I think that’s only you two,” 

“Oh…” 

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, mulling over what you’d like to say next and trying to organize your thoughts. When Bucky didn’t say anything for a while you decided to continue on, “So um...Do you maybe uh-maybe do you feel the same way? About me?”

Bucky doesn’t even wait a beat to answer, “Oh my god yes! Yes I’ve felt the same way for ages, doll!” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you take in the new information, “You have?”

Bucky nods his head, a smile on his face as he looks into your eyes, “Sweetheart I’ve been head over heels for you since I first caught you in midair,” he chuckles. 

You grin at Bucky and feel the familiar flickering of your powers take place, knowing your emotions were much too strong to stop it. Within the blink of an eye you had popped out of existence and popped right back up into Bucky’s lap, making him fall over in a huff of laughter. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into the softness of his hair, “What gives then you goof? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a tight squeeze, “Once you started gettin’ the hang of your powers and began training with the rest of the team, I dunno… It felt like you didn’t need me there for you anymore, I didn’t want to risk holding you back from making new friends and connections,” Your heart split in two hearing Bucky’s explanation.

You pull your face out of his lovely smelling hair and stare into the soldier's pretty blue eyes, “That’s silly Bubba. You would never hold me back! You’re the reason why I’m so comfortable around everyone now. You gave me the strength to get out of my comfort zone,” Bucky grinned at your words and shook his head, mentally chiding himself for being so foolish. 

“M’sorry lovie, I guess I got in my own head about everything. Almost messed it all up too because I got so upset when I saw you and Peter,” Your chest swelled with happiness when he calls you one of your favorite nicknames, knowing the two of you were back to normal. 

“It’s okay! I can understand why you thought what you did. But I promise I’ve only ever been deeply enthralled with you,” You laugh and push your forehead up against Bucky’s, making him let out a deep melody of chuckles. 

“Does this mean I don’t have to hold back anymore? I can love on you as much as I want?” Bucky pairs his question with an affectionate nuzzle in the crook of your neck before looking back up into your gleeful eyes. 

You giggle and brush your nose up against his as you nod your head, “You coulda done that before,” 

Bucky’s hands move from around your waist to your thighs, easily lifting the both of you up from the plush carpet, “M’never lettin’ you go ever again. Gonna hold on real tight, sweet girl.” 

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck and try to pull Bucky closer, burying your face back into the crook of his neck and breathing him in. He moves the two of you over to his bed and flops down onto it, pulling the both of you under the covers and tangling his legs with yours. The two of you stay like that for what feels like ages.

A perfectly content tangle of happiness and relief. 

[rivalsforlife]

Do you have anything you wished was different from Ace Attorney canon?

Hello I'm finally slowly starting to get around to answering some of these! Sorry for the wait.

Uh this ask got super long so a basic summary of it: narumitsu being canon in a well-written way would be nice even though I don't think it would ever happen, I stand by not bringing back Phoenix as a main protagonist in DD, and I'd also want to rewrite all of SOJ so that Apollo goes to Khura'in in place of Phoenix, to have more interesting character stuff going on.

So the longer answer is this:

Aside from some of the actually problematic stuff that I don't feel qualified to talk about, story-wise, I answered a sort of similar question about a year ago here. I have changed my opinions a little bit since then, particularly with regards to the canonicity of narumitsu... because while I do love narumitsu I feel like I don't trust Ace Attorney to actually do it properly. After all if this past November has taught us anything "making a ship canon" could actually be quite undesirable and I have no desire to see Phoenix and/or Edgeworth sent to superhell. (I literally know nothing else about supernatural sorry about that.)

If capcom were somehow able to make narumitsu canon but in an unobtrusive way and as a natural progression of the storyline, like oh hey, the court record profile for Miles Edgeworth's Obligatory Last-Case Appearance has Phoenix mention they're dating, and maybe there's a few lines suggesting they live with each other, but it's not like... taking the entire story to force them together and otherwise does not change the way they interact with each other and butcher one or both of their characterizations in the process? I'd definitely be happy about that. Not gonna lie even if they made narumitsu canon in the most terrible way possible I'd have a "holy shit I can't believe they did that it's the best day of my life" kind of moment before I could think about it critically. But I honestly see no chance of them ever actually making narumitsu canon, so that's quite unrealistic to hope for anyways.

Aside from that in that other ask I talked about basically the premise of an Apollo trilogy and not bringing back Phoenix as the main protagonist in DD, and I still stand by that, buuut in my other ask I did touch on making SOJ a different game where Apollo goes to Khura'in instead of Phoenix - and you know what I'm going to take some time to actually talk about my dream version of SOJ because there were a lot of little things about the one we got that I didn't like. And it's going to be very long. So it's under a cut.

SO yeah I talked about it a bit in the other ask. I think that Phoenix going to Khura'in is a rather weak idea both externally and in-universe. In one of the interviews, too lazy to find which one, Phoenix basically goes to Khura'in because the writers couldn't figure out how to challenge him anymore. ... And then they don't actually challenge him at all. Because oh well now we're going to this new country where they KILL DEFENSE ATTORNEYS WHO LOSE and then it's supposed to be *shocking* that Phoenix would risk his life for a kid or his best friend. you know the guy who ran across a burning bridge to save his best friend. you know the guy who got punched in the face, nearly killed by the mafia, and tazed trying to save his clients. This doesn't tell me anything new about Phoenix's character. His whole travel in Khura'in doesn't tell me anything new about Phoenix's character. Basically the only reason he's there is to see Maya - Maya who theoretically would be returning home in about two weeks. Maya who was still in her training for two more weeks when Phoenix visited so he wouldn't be able to see her anyways. ... And in the meantime Trucy had the biggest show of her life that was going to be on TV and Phoenix wasn't there for it. And of course Phoenix didn't return home after Trucy was accused of murder (yes he couldn't be there for the trial, but he definitely could have for the emotional support afterwards) and instead just sits for two weeks in Khura'in doing literally nothing after Ahlbi's trial.

(And yes I know about the anime prologue that has Phoenix think Maya's in danger... but that's not strictly canon since it's never mentioned in game, isn't technically a part of the game, and even still, why wouldn't he go home after knowing that Maya's safe and that Trucy had been ACCUSED OF MURDER. Honestly that's what makes me angriest about this whole thing is that it makes Phoenix out to be a terrible dad. We really don't need any more takes like that, especially not from canon.)

And what about Apollo, you may ask? Well, given case 5 of SOJ, Apollo actually has a personal link to Khura'in and ends up staying there afterwards... after being there for like a day or two. I should note here that it has been a while since I went through SOJ in its entirety so I am fuzzy on many of the details. But both through what I remember and some conversations with people who actually played the game recently, the motivation for Apollo to actually stay in Khura'in isn't that great. It mainly seemed like guilt about his dead dad who he hadn't been in contact with for years and had completely written off until a few days ago but oh he died and then went to go visit him so... better take up the law office!

If Apollo had gone to Khura'in in place of Phoenix and spent more time there, reconnecting with his childhood home and actually getting passionate seeing how corrupt the legal system is there (even though we have a corrupt legal system at home) and being driven to fix it, that would make for a stronger story, I think. The Khura'in plot is more personally focused around Apollo than it is Phoenix. Phoenix's connection to Khura'in is through Maya, but Maya doesn't really have much of a connection to it aside from "it's where spirit channeling is from and she trains there". But Apollo, I guess, grew up there. So it's so strange to me that they force all of Apollo's connection to Khura'in in the last case while Phoenix is running around doing who-knows-what for the rest of the game. Phoenix spends more time getting to know the state of Khura'in and the Defiant Dragons and case 3's whole thing but he isn't the one who in the end decides to sit down and fix it; that's all on Apollo. It almost feels like they forced one of the two plots in to everything. And it was probably conceived as a Phoenix story that they needed to fit Apollo into last minute because oops he's supposed to be a protagonist too.

Some other strengths to Apollo going to Khura'in include that it would shake up the character dynamics a bit. Instead of Phoenix defending Maya, it's Apollo defending Maya, and that's a particularly interesting thing to look at in the context of Khura'in's "we kill defense attorneys" system. Of course, Phoenix would risk his life to save Maya, 100%, every time. But what about Apollo, who hasn't met Maya, who only knows her as "Mr. Wright's former assistant" - would he risk his life for her? And I feel like Maya would argue more against him defending her because of that. "We're strangers, you don't know me, you don't have to risk your life defending me." (Sidenote that I was always upset that Maya didn't protest much when Phoenix offered to defend her, knowing his life was at risk - sure she knows him better and knows he's always been able to get her out of these situations, but at the same time, the fact that there was no "what about your daughter?" conversation sucks. I really wish SOJ wouldn't have like. completely forgotten about the phoenix-trucy father-daughterisms.)

Let's say Apollo goes to Khura'in. Phoenix stays at home. Phoenix gets a call from Apollo that's basically "uhh hi Mr. Wright you know your friend Maya, she's been arrested for murder, if I defend her and I lose we're both dead," then you can tie in to that moment in 6-2 where Phoenix (who can't make it in time for the trial!) believes in Apollo and his skills as an attorney, not just to save Maya's life, but also his own. It ties in a bit more to the overall challenge of defending someone at the risk of your own life. Again, Phoenix would have very few hesitations, if any, risking his life to defend Maya. Apollo may have more defending a stranger at the risk of his own life.

Then if you can actually have Apollo and Maya talk together that would be neat - Maya can tell him embarrassing stories about Phoenix's rookie days, for instance. Their dynamic would be quite a bit different from Phoenix and Maya's, and that would be an interesting thing to see, unlike what we have in SOJ where all of Maya's substantial interactions are with characters she already knows or brand new characters.

(It would also be pretty neat to know more spirit channeling politics and dive in more to Maya's perspective on Khura'in and also her role as upcoming Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique and where she plans to lead the village in the future and also reconcile with her family's bloody legacy, but I'm not quite sure how to fit that in right now.)

And how about Phoenix, back home in Japanifornia? Evidently he'd end up being in charge of defending Trucy. Now, I did love the siblingsisms in canon 6-2, but I feel like there is still potential for Phoenix defending Trucy. All of Apollo Justice has a bunch of good moments between Apollo and Trucy, and she's co-counsel on all his trials, but we've never had any substantial Phoenix and Trucy investigation or co-counsel moments. I feel like AU 6-2 would be a great opportunity to dive more into Phoenix and Trucy's relationship and how it may have changed after Phoenix got his badge back. Plus, Phoenix being "the only one who knows how she really feels on the inside", he'd have unique insider knowledge into some of the Gramarye stuff that comes up in the case and Trucy's personal connection to the Gramaryes, which Apollo knows a bit of, but Phoenix knows more of. ... Or at least, should know more of, given that he raised Trucy for nine years at this point and they're very close, and Phoenix knows her better than anyone else does, even if capcom has forgotten this.

... Of course having Athena defend the case would also be great because more Athena spotlight is never a bad thing, but it's hard to come up with a reason why Phoenix wouldn't be there to defend her. And doing more switcheroos in terms of role in the plot is a bit beyond the scope of what I have in mind right now. Sorry Athena.

Aside from that, Athena still gets Storyteller, Apollo still heads Turnabout Revolution, and Phoenix still gets the DLC case. Apollo stays in Khura'in in the end with a bit more to his motivations. Rather than it just being about carrying on Dhurke's legacy, it's also something Apollo is passionate about after all he witnessed here. While we're at it I'd still rework a lot of Turnabout Revolution to make it so that Phoenix genuinely believes in Atishon because that makes for sooo much more interesting of a plot and actual character development on Phoenix's part than "Maya was kidnapped again and Phoenix is only wrong when he has no other choice", but that'd require some more detail and this post is long enough already.

And in terms of other details that need to be sorted out, there's the question of why Apollo would need to go to Khura'in in the first place. I'd probably say something to do with Dhurke. Maybe he comes back a bit earlier - actually alive, maybe, though crossing borders would be a bit of a challenge, or he reaches out to Apollo remotely somehow and Apollo goes to yell in his face about abandoning him (or at least that's what he thinks he wants.) Then we could have some more Dhurke and Apollo bonding time, potentially? Idk, if you switch up Phoenix and Apollo you're pretty much writing a whole new game and obviously I have not worked out all the details, but I think if Capcom had tried to go with this route from the outset they'd have a stronger game. At least stronger character motivations.

So... yeah. Those are my opinions. If you read through this whole thing I'm very impressed because it got very long!

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter Nine

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, warning of racist language (Nush talking about her mother's experiences), yearning, fluff to second base (yes, my darlings- IT IS ON!), alcohol is mentioned, food, anxiety attacks.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

People often think artists

Create with their hands

But really they create

with their hearts

So please be gentle

For we wear our vulnerability

On our sleeves

And freely give all we have

Hoping someone will fall

In love with the parts we offer

R. Evelyn

Chapter Nine

The sharp buzz of the door startles you out of your daydream. Laden with roughly the entire contents of your spice cupboard, vegetables, meat and prawns, your hands are crisscrossed with creases from where the weight of the totes has gouged at your skin. A smart-looking kindly gentleman greets you, “You must be Ms Pierce. Mr Pike has asked for you to wait here for him.”

Wow! Marcus’ place has a concierge - who did he have to blow to get a place like this?!

Throwing the bags onto one of the hotel lounge-like chairs, you slump into another as you rub soreness from your hands. A small ping tells you that the lift has arrived - you look over in the direction of the noise, a tremor of excitement rippling through you. An adorably scruffy Marcus, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, steps out - his face utterly beaming on seeing you. “Hey! How are you doing?” he leans in to kiss your cheek twice - hang on, when did this start being a thing?

“Why didn’t you let me pick you up? You’ve carried so much over- lemme see your hands,” his brow knits on seeing the rapidly reddening welts as he takes your hands in his, brushing his thumbs gently across your palms.

“You live four roads away from me - they’re not that bad! And anyway, you can help me now- which floor do you live on?” You outwardly roll your eyes at the sweetness Marcus shows you, secretly enjoying the stroke of his fingers and the ghostly press of his lips still burning a hole in your cheek.

Marcus takes all of the bags from the chair, refusing point blank to entertain you helping him to take them upstairs - you watch as his arms twitch under the weight, enjoying the mixture of confusion and shock at your strength across his face, “you carried all of this?”

Nodding at him, you try to take a bag again, but he dangles it just out of reach, “Watch it - you do realise that I have two other brothers apart from Ads? I will think nothing of rugby tackling you to the floor and pinning you down,” you warn, enjoying the flush brought to his cheeks.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Marcus flusters as he calls the lift, handing you the smallest, lightest bag.

✪✪✪✪✪

Exiting at the top floor, you’re taken aback by the amount of light and quiet that washes throughout the building. Feeling so removed from the shadows cast from the tower blocks and the hustle and bustle of the streets below, the broad daylight offers a sense of serenity, a peace that invites itself into the soul and makes itself at home. As Marcus unlocks the door to his flat, you kick off your shoes at the entrance, “You don’t have to do that,” he offers through the keys in his mouth, holding the door open with his elbow, still refusing any help from you.

“Oh believe me, if I didn’t, my mum’s radar would go off and I would be cruising for a bruising,” you giggle, taking in the glorious spaciousness of his apartment, “I promise my feet aren’t too stinky and that I put on clean socks.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Marcus’ eyes crinkle at you, “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“A coffee would be ace - strong and black please,” you reply, your gaze drinking in the details of his home. Books line the shelves along one wall - such a mixture of titles ranging from airport bestsellers to obscure art catalogues - the relief to see actual paper and hardbacks adorning the shelves rather than trinkets and plants when so many keep their books electronically in their pockets.

A couple of large canvases lie propped against another - long hours preventing them from being hung - their bright colours sure to bring joyful hues to quite a stark room. There are a few photo frames dotted around - mostly pictures of a moment in time rather than poses - of people you assume are friends and family from back in the States. Handing you a steaming mug, Marcus looks over your shoulder as you look at a photo of an older couple dancing and laughing at a wedding, “That’s my mamá and papá at my oldest sister’s wedding. It was such a magical day - just so much love in the air.”

“You can feel the joy radiating from them,” you offer, lowering your gaze from him to grab the frame next to the picture of his parents, “Are these your sisters or cousins? You all look very alike.”

“Yeah, my little sisters,” he grins proudly. “This one is Beth - she’s two years younger and is a paediatrician in Texas. Has two kids with her wife, Sophie. And this one is Cat - she’s doing her own thing out on the West Coast as a musician. They definitely inherited all the clever and cool genes.”

“Hah! You’re kinder to your sisters than I am to my brothers,” you grin, “They’re all total idiots but due to some weird genetic and biological insistence, I still love them.”

Taking a gulp of your coffee, you turn back towards him, “Come on you, we’d better get to work if you want a curry this evening.”

He pouts, looking more like a sulky little boy than a middle aged man. You can’t help but laugh at the sad puppy dog eyes he is conjuring at the thought of work, “Oh poppet, what’s wrong?” you teasingly mock.

“I kinda hoped you were a magician who could just magic a curry outta nowhere so we could watch films til the others arrive,” Marcus grumps shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, there is UberEats for that but you horrible lot put me up to this so you’re going to help,” you wag your finger at him, “But as you’re the only one here, you get the honour of being the chief taster,” you add, tapping him playfully on the nose.

With a soft huff and a furrow of the brow, Marcus guides you into the kitchen where, whilst he was making your coffee, he has helpfully already put all the fresh produce in his fridge as the sides are delightfully blank apart from the bags of spices.

“What are we making today, Chef?”

“Ok, meat dishes are a spiced yoghurt leg of lamb, a keema - don’t you give me that look, a cardamom butter chicken, and, a prawn and courgette curry,” you turn to Marcus’ fridge to find the lamb, “Needs to come to room temperature before we cook it.”

“My tummy is rumbling already,” Marcus adds, his eyes glinting excitedly as he licks along his lower lip, the skin glistening damply. You have never quite figured out whether your love of his lips is due to their fullness or the association with the kindness of his words.

“Hah- you’re not getting away without having some veggies, too, mister,” you cluck as you hand him a bag of onions and several bulbs of garlic to skin, chop and crush for the various dishes.

“Ok, Moooom,” Marcus dramatically rolls his eyes at your dictate, “I admit, I’d rather eat sugary or salty things over green stuff but I can make an exception for curried veg.”

The arch of your eyebrow virtually reaches your hairline at him teasingly calling you mom, so you reach for the towel, twist it and flick him hard on what you’d hoped would be his hip but catch him square on his arse instead.

A yelp of pain and wide eyes greet your action, “Did you just…? Oh, it is on.! You might think you’re tough from your brothers but my sisters taught me sneaky tactics.”

“Come at me, bro!” you taunt from the other side of the kitchen, putting up a boxing stance.

Brandishing the hand without the paring knife in your general direction, he answers, “Nope, gonna use the element of surprise and attack when you least expect it!”

Tutting your tongue at Marcus’ weak ass response, you grab the spices you need to prepare under the power of your pestle and mortar. With the waft of roasting cumin soaring through the air and your battle with your boss at a supposedly declared ceasefire, everything starts to feel comfortable and easy again. You could be six years old and standing on the chair next to your mum, watching like a hawk as she lovingly prepared meals for your family with an ever burgeoning belly. It was then, during those hours shared in the galley kitchen that became your time with her when normally it felt pretty split between her work as a GP and your brothers.

What the fuck… You jump out of your skin when a warm, solid wall presses you out of your nostalgic reverie, “Hah! Pinned ya! Sneaky tactics- told ya they worked,” a deep, soft voice whispers in your ear.

Your heart flutters like a bird trying to escape its rib cage with the closeness of Marcus, the heat rising through your body from your proximity to him - a visceral response to the glorious cocktail of masculine smell from his aftershave and body wash.

What do I do next?

Why can’t I bloody think straight?

Wiggling yourself around so that you face him, his face now so close that you can feel his warm breath upon your cheeks. Your eyes playfully catch the steady gaze of Marcus’ deep soulful pools. It would only take the smallest of movements to reach forwards and kiss him right on that stupidly gorgeous, plush Cupid’s bow and crease. But��� what if he doesn’t want that? He’s my fucking boss - that would be a stellar move to make…

Instead of the tiny incline forwards to press your lips against his as every inch of you screams to do so, you drop to the floor and crawl out from between his legs, “Not pinned well enough it seems,” you tease haltingly as your tongue sticks in your dry throat.

As you check the browning of the cumin seeds, out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus’ head drop sadly, hearing a small sigh - his hands still upon the work surface and feet not having moved from the position he had pinned you in moments earlier.

Did he want to...? No, surely not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Nush,” Marcus humbly apologises, pushing himself off the side, “I hope that I haven’t made things awkward.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you softly say, pouring the roasted cumin into the mortar, ready to be ground, “I was the one who flicked you on your arse - I am the one who should be apologising.”

You beckon gently to Marcus, who has now taken refuge in the furthest corner of the kitchen from you - wringing his hands instead of chopping the onions, “Come over here - I want you to experience one of my most favourite smells of childhood. These are roasted cumin seeds and when you grind them, they release the most heavenly scent.”

After a few grinds, you offer the bowl towards Marcus’ face as he closes the gap between you, “I… Wow! I wouldn’t have thought it would make such a difference but it’s almost like you’ve entirely transformed it. See,” the dimple deepens in that right cheek of his, “you are a magician.”

“I love how spices - a bit like paint - can take on completely different characters depending on how you treat them. Leave the spice whole and you have this mild and fragrant taste. If you crush them, then their attitude comes back tenfold with a vengeance. Toast them, and they may as well be Clark Kent in a phone booth.”

Looking up you see Marcus gazing at you with a sweet half smile on his face - could he like me… like that?

“Sorry, you don’t need to hear me blathering on,” you fluster, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture as the heat rises through your face.

Shaking his head gently without dropping your regard, “No. No, please don’t ever stop. Your passion for things is beautiful.”

“Growing up, I didn’t realise that other people didn’t have whole cupboards filled to the brim with herbs, spices and seasonings. I mean, for all the damage the British Empire reeked, you’d have hoped that the spices would have entered more of their culture, but no! Apparently, my family was the weird one for having food with a flavour,” you shrug your shoulders at some of the ridiculous things you’d heard as a child - accusations of differences you’d never thought to be of note.

Marcus chuckles at your indignance, “It’s funny you should say that. I didn’t realise that my mamá had an accent until it was pointed out to me when I was a kid.”

Noting your slightly confused expression, Marcus explains, “She’s Argentinian- came to the States as a political refugee as she was a journalist following the disappearances during the Dirty War. Met my dad, and I came along very soon after, and the rest is history..”

You can’t help but laugh at the flush on Marcus’ cheeks as he recounts his personal history to you, “Love can’t be held back when it hits and it’s obvious that they’re still crazy about each other now from that photo.”

“Exactly, no point in wasting time when you know what you want,” Marcus grins, looking at his feet.

“My parents have a similar story. My dad is as English as they come - I mean we’re on a freaking island so there’s no true thing as being completely English. My mum is from Pakistan - Karachi - it’s in the South.”

“She came over due to the fighting between East and West Pakistan - the two countries that are now Pakistan and Bangladesh. It kept interrupting her studies to become a doctor so she came to England and restarted her degree here.”

Marcus’ brow creases in thought, “Why did she restart her degree? Could the credits not just be transferred to the college she moved to in the UK?”

“Hah- yeah. It was the seventies, during a time where all Southern Asians were P*kis - no matter where they were from on the Indian subcontinent- and thought of as dirty, lesser beings. There were constant race riots for anyone who wasn’t ethnically white or English. She would never have been taken seriously with her mediocre medical training from some Adobe hut in the middle of a jungle,” you fume, pounding the seeds into fragments. The mortar being threatened with the same fate too.

Marcus’ fingers wrap around your wrist to try and prevent your rage at the ignorance of others from causing you an injury, “I am so sorry,” he pulls you into a warm, tender hug, tucking your head under his chin, “How long before food can take care of itself so we can put a film on? I think we both need a rest.”

“Hmmm, ten minutes and then most things can simmer or be switched off ready for a reheat or proper cook this evening,” you say, leaning reluctantly out of his comforting arms to go check on the bubbling saucepans of food.

“‘K. I’ll go get things set up so you can flop for a bit,” Marcus touches you gently on your shoulder as he goes to set up the front room. You go to squeeze his hand but it’s removed from your shoulder too quickly for your response.

✪✪✪✪✪

“You ready?” Marcus calls through the wall as you turn off the heat from the final pans.

“Mhm,” you mumble in response to his question - double, triple checking that everything is off. Too many fire alarms ruining perfectly lovely meals or moments.

“What did you pick?” You ask, curling up on the other end of the sofa to Marcus, “Do you have no cushions?”

“Shit, no -I’m a guy, what can I say? - lemme grab the pillows from the bed,” Marcus jumps up, calling through from his bedroom, “Bet you have loads on your couch.”

“A fuckload, but, mainly to hide the fact the springs have gone. It’s like a precarious balancing act of comfort on there,” you surreptitiously sniff the pillow, inhaling the smell of Marcus’ shampoo, “Did you give me your pillow?”

A confused look is shot at you from the other end of the sofa, “Whaddya mean?”

“Smells of your hair,” you say as you squish it into the perfect comfy shape, “Like a mixture of lemon and eucalyptus.”

“That’s a sharp nose you’ve got. I gave you the other side though,” Marcus huffs through a chuckles he shakes his head at your somewhat strange comment, “Guess I’ve been sleeping across both sides then.”

“Best thing about sleeping alone- getting to starfish across the bed. Unless of course…”

Marcus can’t help but laugh at your awkward dig to find out whether he’d brought home the goddess from Friday’s antics, “So you wanna know if I brought home Kemi?”

“She was very beautiful. You’d have been mad not to,” you try to school your expression as best you can, keeping your eyes glued to Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing about true love, desperate to hide the jealousy coursing through your veins.

“Must be mad then. Didn’t even kiss her,” Marcus honestly answers whilst copying your tactic of staring at the tv, “She could see that there was someone else I liked so it would have been cruel to have done anything.”

You mull this over in silence, trying not to speak, to ask a million questions.

“Nush.”

“Mhm?”

“Can I talk to y…”

You both jump as an alarm goes off on your phone to remind you to turn the lamb down in the oven.

“Oh shit. Hold that thought,” you jump up from the sofa, heading in the direction of the kitchen with zero thought of what the man at the end of the sofa is desperately trying to tell you. Fiddling with Marcus’ ridiculously swanky oven until it looks like it is doing what you want it to do, you walk back in with two ice cold beers from his fridge.

“Raided your fridge,” you cheekily grin, holding one out to Marcus, the condensation running, down your fingers, “Hope you don’t mind!”

“Good thinking, Batman,” Marcus nods in appreciation, “Any more alarms set to scare us both?”

“Only due to go off when the film is done, so…” you yawn widely, “We’ve got a while yet.”

Marcus’ hand that was slung over the back of the sofa, lifts to stroke your shoulder, “You sleepy? C'mere, you.” With a soft tug of your t-shirt sleeve, he pulls you into his side - your willingness to sink into his broad chest very apparent. Your ear is pressed against him, his heartbeat singing a lullaby to you as his fingers stroke and caress the silken waves of your hair. You wonder at how this man - a total stranger a week ago - has seemingly knitted himself into becoming a cocoon of safety for you, his gentleness and calm offering a haven of tranquility in your otherwise cacophonous world, as the light in the room slowly fades to black.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Uh oh.”

“Hey, welcome back, sunshine!” a gentle pair of fingers stroke back the hair that had drifted into your face as you dozed.

“Sorry for falling asleep. Again,” trying to finesse your way through the heat flaming your cheeks, you offer an awkward grin towards your chuckling pillow, “Guess we’d better start getting things finished as we’ve only got a couple of hours until everyone arrives.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Marcus! I don’t want to move either but this curry won’t finish cooking itself.”

“Spit spot, there’s work to be done,” Marcus trills as he adopts his best attempt at a British accent.

“What the fuck was that? Did you just turn into Dick Van Dyke or something?” You tease mercilessly at the appalling sound coming from those lips, choking back laughter at his mock offended face.

“C’mon, you’re right. We’d better get moving,” Marcus stands with a stretch and a creak before reaching back to tug you to your feet.

Back under the glowing lights of Marcus’ kitchen, his presence is now constantly close to yours as you glide together around the space - stirring, chopping and checking. Every time he passes, above the general aroma of cumin and coriander, the onions and garlic, you can smell the cedar and amber upon his skin- a deliciously masculine scent that only seeks to entangle your senses further.

“Here, try this,” you hold out a heaped teaspoon of mince curry to Marcus, “This is the keema - I promise that I only put in the two chillies you chopped for me, this time.”

“Mmm, that’s so good,” he says thickly between chews, stealing the spoon from you as he dives in for a second, third, fourth spoonful.

“Hahaha! Leave some for the others- and you need to try it with some raita and fried onions too,” you check through your dog-eared, yellowed and slightly sticky recipe book that your mum had handed you the day you’d left home at eighteen - a memo of all the times you had cooked them together.

“Shit, I’d better start the chicken,” going through the spices in front of you, you search for the cardamoms that would make the butter chicken sing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Marcus’ head snaps up from the green beans he was preparing towards you, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I can’t find the cardamoms for the butter chicken - gah I knew I’d fuck this up!” you cry, scraping your trembling hands through your hair, eyes flashing around the room wildly as your cortisol rises, making you want to run and scream at your failure to feed your friends.

“Whoa - where’s this coming from? C’mon, look at me. Look at me, Nush,” Marcus has his hands on either side of your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There’s enough here to feed our whole office for the week with the daals you prepared yesterday, the vegetables we’re about to make and the meats that we’ve cooked up already here. Andy is bringing all the rice and naan, Kiri is bringing beers and Dian is on gin and tonic duty. You have done more than enough and I will not allow you to get this upset over one missing ingredient especially when there is a small store downstairs that I’m sure will have it, if we cannot find it after we look for it together.”

After seeing your numb nod as an agreement, Marcus moves his hands to the side of your head to focus your gaze on him rather than the panic seeping through you. As he strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, you allow your eyes to close and your breathing to regain a normal pattern.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Marcus searches your now open eyes.

“My reactions are ridiculous. Most people tell me to stop being so stupid and that just whips the storm inside my head even more,” you whisper, “But you. You know how to slow everything down and stop the spinning.”

The corner of Marcus’ mouth twitches, “D’ya wanna know a secret?” You nod at him, “As you know, I was married before. When it ended, I totally spiralled. The world kept spinning too fast and I experienced constant anxiety, very nearly burning out of my role.

“I was lucky. My boss was understanding but made me promise to get some support. He knew of someone mental health trained within the FBI who was there for mainly hostage negotiations - not part of the true psych team but someone who could help without it turning up on your record.

“Kwame worked with me for almost a year - pretty much to the point my decree absolute came through. Our sessions were done on a track - by running with me, he was teaching me the skills I needed to control my fears. By my feet hitting the tarmac, he was grounding me. By going over running techniques, he was teaching me how to control my breathing- taking longer and deeper breaths. And running is just repetition. A mindful repetition that allows your brain to have a bit of a break.

“So when I see you start to spiral, I try to give you the same steps he taught me. Get you grounded, opposite me so you copy my breathing and hope that gets you on the right track.”

“Thank you,” you drop your head forwards, relaxing onto his chest. He feels so - safe.

“You don’t need to thank me. Well, okay maybe you do as look what I’ve just spotted,” Marcus holds the offending spice aloft.

“Oh my god, I could fucking kiss you. You have just saved the curry,” you dramatically declare, clutching the cardamom jar to your heart before placing it next to the other ingredients on the counter.

“Go on then.”

What?

His comment makes you snap your head over to catch Marcus’ tremulous gaze, his eyes darting between the floor and your lips. He takes a small step, closing the small distance between the two of you, threading his fingers between yours. Each slow movement offers an unspoken opportunity for you to step away. To tease him and move on with the day.

But why on Earth would you?

With your heart racing faster and faster, you lure him ever closer with your eyes, soft but absolute in their conviction of what was about to pass between you. A small part of you understands that when you kiss him, something will change forever. That within his lips you may find the place to call home - the aching in your stomach may cease and life could start to make sense again. The anxieties of the week washing away, the pain of your collective pasts and the hint of a brighter, happier future before you.

When he doesn’t move again, you seize the moment. Pushing up onto your socked tiptoes, you tilt your chin, inclining your face until your lips come to rest upon his in the sweetest, chastest kiss. Drawing back slightly to check that Marcus is okay with a raise of your eyebrows and widened eyes, he holds your gaze steadily, similarly stunned - a mirror of each other with racing hearts and slightly parted lips. It’s like in that moment everything around you ceases to exist as anything other than extraneous nonsense - all the noise inside your head silenced by that one touch.

A small dumbstruck smile creeps across Marcus’ lips before he lowers his head to press another gentle kiss upon you. Then another. Then another. Each press of your lips a little longer. A little deeper. Your lips part to allow his tongue entry as every single thought is quietened by the taste of him. Dropping hands for his to cradle your face and yours to thread through his hair as your bodies press together tightly.

Oh the taste of him is utterly exquisite! From where you’ve been using him as chief curry taster, there’s an element of spices with the tiniest hint of mint. And how you have missed having that beautifully solid warmth of his body next to yours. Inhaling his breaths that fall upon you, your hearts match each other’s rhythms as your lips explore each other, every sensation drawing together to create a humming ball of energy, like you are standing at the point where lightning strikes the Earth.

✪✪✪✪✪

Hands fisted tightly in each other’s clothing - both stuck in the quandary of wanting to tear the fabric from your bodies but also frightened of pushing the other too far. Finally pulling apart, you gaze upon Marcus - all lust blown pupils and dopey smiles. Your foreheads come back to rest against each other, unable to quite let go just yet, not wanting to break the spell and return to reality.

“I have wanted to kiss you since perhaps the first time I met you,” Marcus murmurs as his lips gently ghost over your cheeks, “Maybe even from seeing the photo in your file when Andy drove me here from the airport.”

“Was the person, me?” You quietly ask, finally with the confidence to finish that conversation, “The reason you didn’t kiss or sleep with the goddess?”

He drops his eyes as he gives you a small nod, “Normally, I’d have just asked you out but I was scared of fucking up. It’s been a long time since I felt a spark with anyone.

“You’ve entered my life in this whirlwind of intelligence, beauty and tenderness - I didn’t want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t reciprocate.”

A thousand thoughts flood your mind as Marcus says those words. All at once, you want to tell him how safe he makes you feel. How much now that you’ve started kissing him, you never want to stop. How the cruel critics of slumber, silence themselves when you feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

Instead you stand there, silent.

Trying to stroke out the creases you’ve created in his t-shirt as you attempt to find words to put into a logical order, you notice his face twitching when the material under your fingers makes contact with his sides, “Oh Marcus, are you ticklish?”

“Um, no,” Marcus tries to deny breezily as he takes a small, hesitant step back from you, pretending to steady himself.

Making a small movement towards him, your hands at the same level as the point of the bunched fabric - you ask, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah,” Marcus is now eyeing you suspiciously - desperate to kiss you again but also a little worried as to what havoc your fingers might reek.

“Then, why are you moving away from me?”

“No reason…” his usually deep voice now a little tighter and higher, “Nush… What are you about to ARGH!”

His knees crumble beneath him as you attack his sensitive sides, “Gah! Quit it, woman,” he weakly commands between wheezes and hoots of laughter.

Taking full advantage of Marcus’ prone and vulnerable position, you take the opportunity to straddle him - effectively pinning him to the floor, “This is how you pin someone.”

“I let you pin me,” Marcus corrects you with a wink.

“Oh really?” you contest, entirely unconvinced by his bravado.

“Yeah,” he says with a small wiggle, bringing his hands to the back of your head, “Cos y’see, I can flip our positions quite easily.”

Suddenly, you find yourself flat on your back in Marcus’ kitchen with zero air in your lungs to form any sensible thought other than to kiss him hard. His large hands cradle your head as he props himself gently above you on his elbows. You feel his entire body covering yours. Deliciously pressing against every single inch of you and oh how it takes every bit of the minutismal amount of self control you have to not beg him to fuck you senseless into that floor.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Shit, is that your door?”

“Fuck,” Marcus pushes himself up to kneeling between your legs, “Can we pretend we’re not in?”

The harsh realisation of an evening with your colleagues, albeit lovely people, sinks in to you both.

“Nope,” you groan, popping the p with a deflated gusto, “Hang on, don’t buzz them up until I’ve tucked my boobs back into my bra.”

“I dunno, makes for easier access,” Marcus lopsidedly grins with a wink as he heads for the door.

“You certainly didn’t seem to make hard work of it earlier,” you mumble at him, before you affix a smile to your face, “Hey! How are you all doing?”

A sea of never ending hugs envelopes and separates you from Marcus as everyone piles into his apartment. The stupid grin still firmly in place on your face since you’d first kissed, you find that every time you look over at him, he’s gazing right back, mirroring that lovestruck smile.

“Oh my god, it all smells so amazing,” Dian waxes lyrical, squeezing you tightly as she inhales a lungful of exotically scented air, “What’ve we got?”

You take her by the hand into the kitchen to show all the different things you had bubbling away. Andy ducks into the kitchen behind you, laden with bags filled with pilau rice, naan and chapatis, and a beautiful small bunch of spring flowers in his other hand - tiny tête-à-tête daffodils with multiple heads along each stalk, brilliant yellow and red tulips standing like soldiers and the otherworldly looking stems of hyacinth, wickedly scenting the air under your nose as he thrusts them under there.

“Hey pretty girl, here’s all the bits you asked for. You deserve a much bigger bunch for what I’ve roped you into but I know you love the early blooms,” he offers by way of apology, sticking a kiss to the side of your forehead, “Smells fucking good though as ever. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought a box to take some home for Greg - he was a jealous arse this evening so I suppose I should share.”

“You know the way I cook, enough for several small armies,” you wonkily grin at him, truly thankful for the part he’d had to play, “‘Fraid there’s no easy way to say this and you will have to be the one to break it to Greg, but there’s no butter chicken tonight.”

“You’d better have a damn good excuse for this slatternly behaviour, madam,” Andy gives you a serious side eye for this infraction.

“Well…”

“Initially Nush couldn’t find the cardamoms but then we ran out of time. Plenty of food here, though,” Marcus answers for you, his hand gently holding your hip as he reaches around you to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

You see Andy catch Marcus’ hand lightly stroking your side as he walks back to Kiritopa, but are entirely grateful when his expression and mouth say nothing. The light chatter in the kitchen, whilst Dian dips a teaspoon into all the pots, is interrupted by a small knock at the door. Sticking your head around the kitchen door, you spot Marcus opening the door to a nervous-looking Harper. Andy sidles past you, to pull her into the main room, rather than her previous position of standing on the doorstep, utterly awkward and obviously feeling quite out of place.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me coming. I know I wasn’t there Friday but I don’t really do large crowds and drinking.”

You walk over to her amidst the chorus of “not to worry”s and “lovely to see you”s, “Fancy something to drink now? Got plenty of soft options and I think I’ll stick alongside you as I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn stuff.”

“Including yourself, this time,” Harper retorts quickly with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“Hah, chance’d be a fine thing,” Andy laughs, slapping your shoulder before turning back to clink bottles and talk with Kiri and Marcus.

✪✪✪✪✪

Through the full length doors of Marcus’ balcony, evening spring sunshine streams through, bathing the group of your co-workers in a gentle, diffused light that flows around the room coating you in a golden glow. You all eat your fill and then some, with full tummies and tired eyes - the kitchen still full of half eaten dishes.

“Can we make this a weekly thing?” Kiritopa asks through a mouthful of food, hopefully.

“Not unless we take it in turns or get a take away - I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to make this level of curry every weekend,” you pointedly remark, looking up from your coke to meet Marcus’ eyes.

You’ve spent the evening barely speaking to each other for fear of alerting the others but surreptitiously brushing past so that you can sneak touches. Tender hidden strokes that feel like the kindest stitches on hidden, gaping wounds.

Marcus stands up to help usher the evening to an end and get you to himself again, “I have some boxes for y’all to take food home as otherwise, I’ll be eating this for weeks - delicious as it is.”

Everyone thankfully takes their boss’ hint and head into the kitchen to grab platefuls to reheat after long days. Slowly saying their goodbyes, your friends drift off in the direction of their homes as you throw yourself in an exhausted heap of bones on his sofa. Two strong hands grip you under your arms, to drape your torso across his lap.

“Hey tired girl,” you slightly open your eyes to spy a smiling Marcus gazing down at you. His fingers draw lazy patterns over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I’d like to take you on a proper date this week. Wanna do this properly. Make a bit of a fuss.”

“Yeah? Not just pin me down and ravish me on the kitchen floor?” you grin widely at him.

“Well, I’d hardly call that a ravishing…” your eyes widen, eyebrows raising at Marcus’ comment, excitement pooling in your tummy, “Yeah, I saw there’s an Argentinian restaurant in Blackheath so how about steak, Malbec and homemade ice cream before I bring you back to either yours, or mine, for another, even better ravishing?”

“That sounds amazing, although with the amount of food in my belly, I may never have to eat again,” you give your stomach a rub, “But the ravishing…”

Hauling you up to sitting across his lap, you protest loudly, “I am going to crush your legs.”

“Stop making ridiculous comments and c’mere,” Marcus demands as he gently turns your head towards him, stealing a delicate kiss from you.

“I...should… - argh! Stop kissing me for a second,” you beg halfheartedly, “I should go home.”

“Stay.”

“Please stay,” Marcus desperately entreats you, “I’m not expecting anything but I’d love it if you stayed. I know you’ve got nothing here but give me two minutes and I can have a spare toothbrush for you. I’ll drop you home early tomorrow morning so you can grab some clothes and then we can go into work together?”

It feels as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs with the depth of Marcus’ need to be around you.

How does he do it?

“There’s no games with you, are there?” you twist in Marcus’ lap so that you now straddle his thighs, placing your hands on either side of his ridiculously handsome face.

“No,” he shakes head slowly, all the while holding eye contact with you, “I’m too old and I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

Stroking his hands up and down your sides as he nuzzles your neck, he clearly and confidently declares,

“You.”

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

[notdonesimpin]

Wants And Needs ~d.a.~

daiki aomine x reader

warnings: kinda angsty, kinda fluffy. it does have a happy ending

synopsis: two people with a love for sports, finding themselves on opposite sides of the spectrum. One never puts in the effort and the other wishes they could touch the court once more.

a/n: its long haha :) self indulgence got the better of me. hope you enjoy :)

Being the second manager of Touou Academy’s basketball was a fairly easy task until Momoi decided to put you on babysitting duty because Aomine seemed to be too hard to reach or find nowadays.

You’d argued her down on why it had to be you since they had been close since they were kids, but you knew it was because she couldn’t do proper stats or research if she had to worry about him.

Despite your better judgement, you agreed, putting the team’s needs before your own feelings. 

The only thing you couldn’t shake is how she said that you’re the only person he’ll actually listen to. What does that even mean? 

You’ve only had a few conversations with him and most of them seemed pretty tame. You’d never asked him to do anything. It was only ever minor suggestions to better his game or to help him heal afterwards but that was the extent of your friendship.

He’d just known you since you went to the same middle school as him but you both lived in different worlds then. He was the ace of the basketball team and you were the ace of the volleyball team. Your paths almost never crossed with how busy and committed you both were to your clubs, but you both respected each other and watched the other play whenever you had the chance.

“Why are you following me like a lost puppy? Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Aomine asks, snapping you out of your thoughts as he begins to ascend the ladder to the roof.

“Well, Momoi has gotten too busy to keep an eye on you, so you can call me your babysitter. It feels more like I’m supposed to be your secretary, though.”

“You can quit early. You’re not making me go to practice. There’s no point if I’m better than everyone.”

You huff, following him up. “You’re so arrogant.You know, that there’s going to come a day where someone will knock you off of your high horse or you might just do it yourself.”

He shrugs, laying down and letting his eyelids close.

“Daiki. Get up.”

He ignored you, faking a few snores in hopes that you’d give up and leave him alone. 

You let out a huff, contemplating on how to get him to go to practice. “What will it take for you to start going to practice?”

“I already don’t go, and my performance is fine.”

“But your teamwork is shit,” you blurt, quickly clamping your hands over your mouth as soon as you could.

He opened one of his eyes, glancing at you. “I don’t need a team. I’m strong enough on my own.”

“Then prove it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s go to practice. You’ll play by yourself versus three guys on the team. If you win, I’ll stop pestering you about practicing or being on time. If you don’t, you’ll practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and do strength training with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Aomine scoffs, “You must be expecting me to win with your outrageous request.”

You shake your head, “I know you’re going to lose, so I need enough punishment to get you off of your high horse. Plus, we’ll have a 3 on 1 game every week until you beat them or you admit that you can’t do it by yourself. Do we have a deal?”

He sits up, looking at you in amusement, “We have a deal if you agree to let me take you on a date after I win.”

“Then, we have a deal, Mr. Optimistic.”

He jumps up, heading for the ladder. “Let’s go. I don’t want to eat too late.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden determination to go to practice, even if it was under an agreement. You quickly followed him, having trouble since his legs were decently longer than yours.

He pushed the gym doors open and all eyes went to the two of you. They all fell silent when Aomine began to speak. 

“Imayoshi, Sosa, and Harasawa. Play me. 3-on-1,” he challenged.

“Daiki-kun! What are you doing?” Momoi asks, looking in between you, him, and the three players he’d just called out.

“I’m just here to win a bet that Y/N made with me. That’s all.”

He jogs onto the court, getting ready to play and disregarding everything Momoi, you, and the coach were saying to him.

“How about we go to 21? My baskets will count for 1 or 2 points and yours will count for 2 or 3,” he smirked, passing the ball to Imayoshi as he got in a defensive stance.

“You cocky little asshole.” The match began moments later.

In only about 15 minutes, Aomine had won in a landslide. 21-5.

Your jaw dropped, “Daiki…”

He grabbed his bag off of the ground with a triumphant smirk, grabbing your hand to pull you along with him as he left. “How do burgers sound? I’m starving.”

You fell silent after you caught up with Aomine, walking beside at a leisurely pace. He let go of your hand and let out a sigh.

“You’re quiet,” he notes after a few minutes of silence, “Do you really have nothing to say to me if it isn’t about practice?”

“I’m just trying to get my thoughts together. I don’t want to say anything that I don’t really mean,” you mutter.

He nods, letting the two of you fall into silence once again as he opens the door for you to walk into the fast food restaurant.

About five minutes later, Daiki sat down across from you with a large pile of food. He hands you two burgers and some fries, knowing that you usually didn’t eat much.

“Alright, I can tell you’re mad at me,” he leans against his chair, looking at you.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Yes, you are. You have the same look on your face when I do something extremely reckless during the game or when I almost get hurt because I didn’t take your advice.”

You huff, “Why do you spend so little time practicing basketball if you love playing so much?”

“It’s no fun when no one is a challenge anymore. I’m the only person that can beat me.”

“Can you shut up with your superiority complex bullshit!” you snap.

His eyes widened. You’ve never lost your cool before. Why did you care so much about him skipping practice?

You took a deep breath and spoke in a calmer tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just- you claim to love the sport so much, yet, you subconsciously have given up. You’ve stopped having fun, but you don’t want to admit it.”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“You hate the sport because you have no one to play against. Yet, winning isn’t the only reason to play. You play for your team or are you just too self-centered to realize it.”

“You don’t get to talk to me about the decisions I have made. You have no right to say that I need to play for the team when you were the best volleyball player at Teiko. You were the only person talked about as much as we were, but you quit. You gave up on your team. Don’t give me shit when you walked on the thing that made you who you are,” he sneered, getting up to leave.

“I didn’t give up. I’d committed to Rakuzan, but I got injured. They didn’t want me anymore. No strong team wanted me. Since Touou’s volleyball team is rather small since it just started last year, they still wanted me. That’s why I’m here. So don’t tell me about giving up because my love for volleyball is too strong. Everything I’ve ever done is to better myself and my team. That’s why I can have fun even if I’m beating the other team by a landslide. I can imagine how upset I have made you, and I apologize. I just- I would kill to step on the court right now. My doctor says that if I have surgery, I’ll be out for another six to nine months but my volleyball career will be guaranteed. I’ve thought about throwing away the rest of my career to play another season right now. Excuse me if seeing you flake off when you have so much potential makes me upset. I’m sorry for ruining our supposed date. Have a good night, Aomine.”

He couldn’t deny the way his heart ached after hearing your story or the way he swore that his heart broke when you called him by his last name. You haven’t done that since middle school.

His chest felt heavy, but there was nothing he could do now except to walk away. His pride being too large for an apology to fall across his lips.

It had been two weeks later and neither of you have tried to talk to the other. The team could practically feel the tension between the two of you as you sat on the opposite end of the bench to avoid being beside Aomine.

You were always the one to keep Aomine’s head afloat during games, so they weren’t sure what to expect without you quietly coaching him. They needed his complete focus during the game against Seirin and they were afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep his mind from drifting to whatever caused a rift between the two of you.

You stood up giving each of the players a pat on the back as they stepped onto the court. You placed your hand on Aomine’s shoulder as you stopped, causing him to stop and glance at you. He was going to open his mouth to say something, but you just gave him a tight lipped smile and continued to the bench and sitting by Momoi.

She gave you both sympathetic looks, knowing of the situation due to you both coming to her on separate occasions. Only Momoi knew how much of his play depended on your reassuring words and guided coaching. It wasn’t that he was terrible without you, but you gave him a purpose that neither of you realized.

The game has favored Touou for the most part, but Seirin was staying somewhat in the game. Everyone could tell that Aomine wasn’t giving his all, but no one knew how to approach him about it. They knew only you could bring him back to reality.

“Y/N, you do know that he’s started to come to practice, right?” Momoi says without taking her eyes off of the game. “He told me that he’d be there on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays only because he has strength training on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked, trying to hide the shock you felt that he actually listened to you even though he won the bet.

“He said that you put some things into perspective, and he shouldn’t take his time playing basketball for granted when there are people dying to even be able to do a percentage of what he does.”

You quietly nodded, not noticing the smile that crept on your face.

Halftime came and the team quietly went to the locker room. Everyone could tell how close to breaking Aomine was.

You refilled the water bottles and grabbed some colder towels as you walked into the locker room. You gave all the players that came off of the court a towel and a bottle, receiving a small thanks as the coach talked to them. 

You noticed Aomine staring at the ground, trying to keep his focus on the game. You unfolded the cool towel, placing it over his head and bent down to set the bottle in front of him. 

As soon as you tried to  walk away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him until his head rested on your torso and his arms were wrapped around you. You paused, unsure of how to respond. You could have sworn you heard a soft sniffle come from him.

“Uh, Daiki-kun-” Momoi started, realizing how uncomfortable you looked.

You cut her off with a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, Momoi. Let him be.”

You look down at him, moving the towel onto his neck so you could run your hands through his hair.

The buzzer sounded to signal that there were two minutes left until the game began. Everyone piled out, but Aomine didn’t budge.

You fell silent as he looked up at you with a few tears rolling down his face. “I’ve never felt so lost on the court, Y/N. Please, tell me what to do out there! Tell me how many mistakes I’ve made. Yell at me. Hit me for being such a dumbass! I just need you to- just please- please, talk to me. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Kagami goes based on instinct, like you, so any movement that could give a hint about what you’re going to do is guaranteeing your loss in a one-on-one battle. Beating him is easy if you let yourself have some fun. This may be the only time I tell you this, but don’t hold back.”

His eyes widened, “Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t hold back and win this game for the team.”

“I’m still struggling with the team thing, but I can win this game for you, if that’s okay,” he confessed as he gets up, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

You lightly laughed, “I guess it’s okay. I just want you to have some fun.”

“Can I kiss you?” he leans down, ghosting his lips over yours.

Knowing your words would fail you, you pulled him down, crashing his lips onto yours. His arms tightened around you as he tried to pull you impossibly close to deepen the kiss.

You pull away with a small smile on your face, patting his chest. “Let’s go before they think we’ve murdered each other.”

Aomine instantly picked you up, and rushed out of the locker room despite your protests.

“Daiki! Put me down!” you yell as the tunnel begins to end.

The team looks over at the sound of your voice to see Aomine carrying you out. They all let out a deep sigh of relief to see that the two of you were getting along again.

He sits you down and you hit him in the shoulder. “If you weren’t playing right now, I swear I would murder you!”

He laughs, giving you a quick kiss as the buzzer went off for the game to start again. “I want to cheer as loud as you can for me, yeah?”

You grin, “I’ll do my best.”

~~

A few months later, you were at the hospital, waiting to be wheeled back for surgery when Aomine bursted into your room with wide eyes and his uniform on.

“Daiki? What are you doing here? You have a game like right now!” you exclaim.

“I couldn’t play. I tried, Y/N. I really tried to stay focused during warm ups, but I can’t when you’re here, getting the surgery that brings you onto the court you love. I can’t just show up after it’s done and ask if you’re okay.”

“The team needs you.”

“The team is the reason I’m here. They’re worried about you, too. You may not play on the court, but you’ve been there for every single one of us when we needed it the most. It’s only fair that I do that same for you as your teammate, but more importantly, as your boyfriend.”

“Daiki…” your eyes soften, noticing the tears threatening to leave his eyes. 

He wasn’t typically a vulnerable person. This was the first time you’d seen him so upset since that fight.

“You’re here alone when you shouldn’t have to be. Your parents are out of town. Who’s going to take care of you, baby? I know you put up this big front that you’re strong, but I don’t think you actually want to go into surgery without a comforting and familiar face.” Daiki’s voice cracks as he walks over to you. His laces your fingers together. “Let me take care of you.”

“Okay.” Your voice was small. You felt all of the emotions you’d been holding in start pouring out as tears began to fall down your face. 

He wipes a few tears off of your face, pulling the chair closer to the edge of the bed to sit down. “How long until it’s time?”

“Ten minutes.”

He nods, letting the both of you fall into a comfortable silence.

“Daiki?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.

He hums in response as he looks over at you.

“What if I’m a part of the unlucky 25 percent that can’t play again?”

“Y/N, you’re overthinking. Everything will go perfect. You’ll be playing volleyball next season, and I’ll get to cheer my girl on from the sidelines. If anything other than that happens, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. Either way, you have me.” He bends down to rummage in his bag, pulling out a teddy bear and handing it to you. “I got you this to hold onto during the surgery.”

“Thank you, Daiki.” You grabbed it from him, wrapping your arms around it tightly as you noticed that it smelled of his cologne. Your heart swelled as he successfully calmed you. 

Five minutes later, the nurse came in to wheel you to the back. He gave you a soft kiss on the forehead and watched them wheel you out.

The next three hours were excruciating for Aomine. He sat there in silence for the most part, checking his phone for updates on the game from Momoi.

After she informed him that they won, he made a plan with them to drop by your place later to check on you and celebrate later that night after they released you.

The nurse rolled you back in and you were still asleep. 

“How did it go?” he nervously asked.

“It was a success! As long as she does everything right, she should get back to volleyball in no time. She should wake up in the next thirty minutes or so. After that, we’ll see how she feels and go through everything that you guys need to do for the next two to three weeks until her check up.You guys should be out of here in another hour.

He nods, “Thank you.”

Just like the nurse said, you woke up thirty minutes later and felt a little groggy. He softly smiled at you, rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“Hey, baby. How do you feel?”

Your eyes flutter open and you make immediate eye contact with him. “I want to go home, Dai,” you pout.

“I know. We’ll be going home soon. You’ll be back on the court before you know it, too.”

“Really?” you beamed.

He couldn’t help but match his smile to yours. “Yeah, they said it went perfect.”

Later that night, you and Aomine were quietly watching a movie when there was a knock on your door. 

You look at him confused as he gets up and walks over to it. “Aomine, who’s here?”

He smiles without answering your question as he opens the door to reveal the team standing there. They all piled into your home, asking if you were okay. Some of them handed you flowers and sweets while others brought movies and games for you to do in your free time.

“What are you guys doing here?” you ask in shock.

“We wanted to make sure that everything went well. Aomine thought it’d be a good idea,” Imayoshi informed you.

Aomine cheeks heated up as he scratched the back of his head. “I figured since you brought us closer as a team, you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all. These are moments with you guys that I won’t get often after I start playing volleyball again.”

“Nonsense, the volleyball team and basketball team schedules almost never clash because we only have one gym. The only time it’d be troublesome is during tournament season. Even if you can’t be at most of our games, you can still come to a lot of the practices,” Aomine interjected.

Everyone looked at him with wide eyes. “Why do you know this information?” Momoi asked.

“I wanted to see how much time I was going to get to spend with Y/N once she was released to play.”

“Oh you are so whipped.”

[tanzaniiite]

ONE DAY • USHIJIMA W.

requests: CLOSED

warnings: angst if you squint

word count: 1k

a/n: y’know i don’t headcanon ushijima as the type to have kids, if his partner has kids from a previous relationship then fine but i just don’t see him choosing to have kids. or maybe he’ll be down for adopting if his partner really wants kids

yess i write for shiiiiratorizawa now

It was safe to say your son hated Ushijima.

That’s what Wakatoshi thought anyways. Even after your numerous attempts to reassure him that, that wasn’t the case at all. You explained to him that your son just needed time to warm up to him. And Ushijima believed your words… the first dozen times. After that, he was convinced that your son, Satoshi, didn’t like him.

“If you want to break up, I understand.”

“Toshi please–”

“Your son comes first, you should be with someone he approves of.”

As sweet as your boyfriend’s words were, you weren’t going to break up with him. “Baby, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need my eight-year-old son’s approval on who I date” You sighed, placing your hands on your hips. You and Wakatoshi have been dating for a little over a year now. And he met Satoshi about three months ago. “He just needs time, you know how close he is with his father” You explained. Ushijima nodded, “I would just like to know what I could do to make him like me” He stated. And although his voice was its usual robotic tone, you could tell he wanted Satoshi to like him.

“Mom! Can we get pizza for— why is he here?”

Your son deadpanned once he saw Ushijima sitting in the living room. You gave him a stern look, “Sato be nice. He’s here because I want him here, is that okay with you mister?” You asked rhetorically. Satoshi scrunched up his face in.. disgust? Before answering, “I guess, he’s not staying for dinner right?” He asked, walking to the pantry to get a snack. Before you could chastise him for being rude, your boyfriend spoke up. “Would you like me to stay for dinner?” Toshi inquired. He had read an article that said kids liked to be included in certain decisions rather than have no say at all. Your son paused before turning around and looking Wakatoshi dead in the eyes.

“No, I would prefer if you left and never came back”

Deciding enough was enough, you got up and dragged Satoshi to his room. Although you had closed the door behind you, Ushijima could hear every word.

“Satoshi (L/n), that was incredibly rude. You need to apologize now.”

“But mom–”

“I won’t ask again Sato. You know better than to speak to anyone like that”

“…”

What the ace wasn’t expecting to hear was crying. At first, he thought it was you but upon closer inspection —him moving closer to the door— he realized Satoshi was the one who was crying. Ushijima never really took offense to anything your son said to him, so an apology wasn’t necessary. He hoped Satoshi wasn’t upset about that. However, Wakatoshi couldn’t help but be surprised at your son’s next words.

“I-I don’t want him to replace dad!”

On the other side of the door, you were just as shocked. So that’s what this was all about. For the past three months, all the dirty glances, snarky remarks, and name-calling, Satoshi was just worried about Wakatoshi taking his father’s place. Crouching down, you cupped your son’s cheeks in your hands, “Oh baby, no one can replace your dad. You know that. How ‘bout this, think of Wakatoshi as… a mentor” You suggested. “A mentor?” Sato sniffed. “Mhmm” you hummed, “he’ll be like a father figure, without being your father. You can still visit your dad and hang out with him, me dating Toshi isn’t going to change that” You reassured, wiping the start tears from your son’s face.

“…really?”

“Of course my hun bun”

Satoshi hugged you and buried his face in your neck, “I’m sorry mommy” He said, gripping the back of your shirt. You gently rubbed his back, you knew introducing a new man into his life would be challenging, this was to be expected. You were glad Ushijima was a patient person and is more than willing to wait for your son to come around. Pulling away, you tapped Sato’s nose, “I’m not the person you should be apologizing to” You hummed. Your son glanced at the floor, “Do I have to?” He asked. You gave him a pointed look. “Okay okay, I will” He claimed, opening his door and shuffling out to the living room.

“Um... Mr. Ushijima sir?”

Ushijima turned around from his spot on the couch as if he wasn’t eavesdropping a couple of seconds prior. “Yes?” He replied, giving your son his undivided attention. Satoshi wrung his hands a bit before speaking, “I’m sorry for being rude to you. I shouldn’t have given you dirty looks or told you to never come back. And I’m sorry for calling you Stinky-jima that one time. I… I just don’t want you to take my dad’s place” He apologized, not looking Wakatoshi in the eyes.

The ace got up and kneeled in front of your son. “It is okay, I know this must be hard for you. But I can assure you, I won’t take your father’s place. My only hope is to make you and your mother happy. If it is not too much to ask, I would like your approval to continue my relationship with your mom. She makes me very happy and I would like to see our relationship progress… if that’s alright with you?” Ushijima inquired. You rolled your eyes playfully, you had a feeling your boyfriend wouldn’t let that “approval” nonsense go. Satoshi looked back at you before turning to Wakatoshi.

“Well, if you make my mom happy.. then sure. You can date her”

“Thank you”

“But if you make her cry, I’ll kick your butt!”

Ushijima let out a hearty chuckle, “If I ever do that, you have my permission to beat me up” He stated, ruffling Sato’s hair. The prospect of beating up Toshi made your son a little too happy for your liking. But you let it slide because, for the first time, your son was smiling at Wakatoshi. Not scowling but smiling. You knew their relationship had a long way to go but this was a start. Maybe one day…

your two favorite boys will be inseparable.

tanzaniiite © 2020 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.

[husky-twst-and-obeyme]

I really liked you TWST with Obey me! S/O hc's so... can I request for the same Obey Me S/O but their introducing Simeon and Luke as their actual guardian angels? (Maybe Solomon is their partner-in-crime or something) oh and its for the dorm leaders! (And maybe can we see a tiny bit of cheka's and luke's reaction to each other? You can decline this ask if you want to of course^^)

SO sorry this was late!

Riddle

He was surprised guardian angels exist , a little jealous and wish he had some when he was younger

he was curious about them and they’re what he expected, well behaved

He loved how well they followed rules, he was more fond of Simeon but it didn’t mean he didn’t like Luke

He’d listen to Simeon go on bizarre stories about you , you were good but being influenced by demons was another story

on the other hand , luke was getting pestered by Ace. Riddle didn’t notice until Luke kicked Ace in the sheen

Riddle was shocked and was about to scold but Simeon took care of that , lowkey he thought Ace deserved it

When they leave , he would ask if they’d be back , he really loved their prescenese

Leona

Guardian angels? the fuck?

He didn’t believe it much until he met them , all he saw was a bite size shrimp that’s like Cheka and a skin bean

He’s not too much of a fan and just straight up ignores them

you tried your best to get him to interact but he purposely sleeps on you

lowkey , he’s jealous because he’s supposed to be your guard, not these bright pansies

Simeon seemed fine but luke did not like Leona at all because of the cold attitude

Let’s just say if they ever come back , it would be a awkward silence for the most part  

Azul

We already know Azul wants to make a business with them

He was quite friendly with them at first , but luke already got bad vibes from him , the twins didn’t help with that XD

Azul tried to relax luke but he was stubborn as  hell (heh)

you knew Azul was going to try to do business with so you in a way cock blocked his chances but changing the subjects completely

“so Mr Simeon~ would yo like to - “ “y’all like jazz? “

After Simeon and Luke left, all you did was scold Azul

Kalim

He was so excited to meet them , Jamil had to try to calm him down

Kalim really adored how beautiful and majestic they were

Simeon told him stories about you that you never mentioned before, it makes him excited

He also gets to try recipes that Simeon cooks with the help of Jamil , they exchanged recipes with each other

Luke even went in with his special desserts which were the best ever to Kalim

he was sad that they had to leave at some point but he had fun while it lasted

Vil

He was quite interested when you brought of Simeon and luke

guardian angels? intriguing...

Vil actually got the opportunity to meet them , you entered to Pomefoire with them because you thought it’d catch the angels interest

Luke was amazed by Vil because of how stunning he looked, he almost mistaken him for an angel himself

While Luke was admiring from behind you , Simeon had a wonderful time with Vil , he somewhat reminded him of Asmo with all the beauty treatments he does

Simeon and Vil go into their own little world while you and luke just waited for them  , it was a long while

Vil enjoys his time with them but can see a few flaws that need to worked on but he’ll get to those in due time

Idia

not really into meeting angels but Ortho was so he was like “ ok, i guess.- “

When they arrived Ortho was so fascinated by them while Idia just hid behind you the whole time

Luke tried to talk to Idia but he was stone cold shut the entire time

Simeon didn’t mind, he understood that it can be intimidating for some people to meet Angels , which earned him some respect from idia but just by a little

Ortho and Luke got along really well , which made idia really happy but not enough to express it to them

After Luke and Simeon left, Ortho asked you if they’d be back anytime  soon while Idia is still trying to process all if it happening , so who knows?

Malleus

Angels huh? Interesting

He was aware of their existence but never really interacted with angels before

when Simeon and luke came along, luke was imately scared by him because he automatically assumed Malleus was a demon

which luckily you explained he wasn’t and was just a dragon fae, Luke only felt a little less intimated

Simeon tried to settle things with telling stories of the celestial realm to Malleus which did catch his attention more

at some point Lilia joined and Luke assumed he was a child , thinking he was malleus’ son for some reason until he learned that he’s much older “HOW- “

-”fufufu , we fae change alter ourselves to our liking “ Lilia smiled

Luke hid behind you because now he doesn’t trust the old man  baby 

Bonus: 

Cheka

he was on one of his visits to Leona until he noticed you and two others with you 

he saw a little boy over there and got super excited ! someone his age! 

he rushed over , leaving his bodyguards , again- 

he ran up to you guys all excited, you were used to this behavior of Cheka whenever you visit here while Simeon and Luke were caught by surprise

Cheka showed more interest in Luke which made him feel special 

Luke got along pretty well to the point where no one could separate them 

You and Leona used it as an opportunity to not worry (too much ) about them since they had each other, at least leona could rest easy with Cheka around that angel 

it was so heartbreaking when the two of them had to leave each other behind 

but you made sure that you knew Cheka was coming you’d let Luke know right away! 

Hope you like it! 

[middleearthpixie]

Durin's Garage ~ Good Trouble - Part 3

Durin’s Garage AU - Good Trouble ~ Part 3

Modern Spin on The Hobbit

Summary: When your car breaks down, there is only one garage in town - Durin’s Garage and Engine Repairs. And sometimes, they do more than just tune your engine, check your oil, and top off your fluids…

Everyone in town knows Durin’s Garage and Engine Repairs is THE place to go when your car needs work, and everyone knows that Dwalin Fundinson is to be avoided outside of the garage. He’s an ace mechanic, but trouble otherwise.

Your first date is coming, and you’re both a little nervous about it.

Pairing: Modern!Dwalin x reader

Warning: None - just some sweet fluffy fluff

Word Count: 3,770

Khuzdal translations: Mesmel - my jewel of jewels

Previous Chapters can be found here and AO3

Check out these other great stories in the world of Durin’s Garage AU

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being @shalinizhara @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover

The flat-bed truck rattled like an empty cracker box as Dwalin steered along Route Seven, which was the main road in and out of town. He had the radio playing loud enough to be heard with the windows open. Ozzy Osbourne’s Mr. Crowley. An oldie but a goodie.

But, he barely heard the lyrics. Instead, his thoughts kept returning to you. He’d known the frat boy was going to be trouble when the bouncer tossed him last night, and it lay heavily on his mind when he’d paid his bill and left. He couldn’t stop worrying about you, worrying the pissed off kid with the serious attitude would come back and cause trouble for you.

His instinct turned out to be right, as usual, which was why he’d learned long ago to listen to it and trust it. It saved his ass more than once and now, it saved yours as well.

He’d been watching you for weeks now. He remembered the first time he saw you, not quite three months ago when he and Thorin had popped into the Dunraven after work one night. He’d been shocked to see Kelly was gone, and in her place, a woman who stole the breath from his lungs and rational thought from his mind without even trying.

You were tiny, and delicate, and he was sure he could lift you with one arm and when he helped you up from the pavement last night, he realized he wasn’t wrong. You were every bit as tiny and delicate as he imagined.

And up close, you were even more beautiful than he thought. When you kissed him, he almost couldn’t believe it was really happened. Girls like you didn’t look at guys like him. Girls like you preferred the frat boys, the rich kids with their fancy sports cars and designer clothes, and big, bouffy hairstyles.

He’d never been so glad to be wrong before.

As he came around a curve, he saw the box truck on the shoulder, its flashers on, and the man he presumed was the driver standing on the far side of the vehicle, looking pissed off. Hard to blame him. It snowed last night, but today the temps were expect to rise into the sixties. A beautiful day, with sunshine and blue skies and no one wanted to be stranded on the side of the road in weather like this.

He rolled to a stop ahead of the box truck and climbed down. “Dwalin from Durin’s Garage and Engine Repair,” he called, slamming the door to the black cab shut. “Ye called for a lift?”

“Yeah. Son of a bitch crapped out on me.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Do I look like a mechanic?”

“Easy,” Dwalin held his hands up, palm out. “Some guys know enough. What happened?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “It began running rough about five miles back, at the rest stop. Then, when I got here, it up and died and now it won’t start. And I gotta be in Jamesburg by three.”

“Yer are not making Jamesburg by three,” Dwalin replied, shaking his head. “Ye might want to call and let them know.”

The man sighed as he dug his cell from his front jeans pocket. “Son of a bitch!”

While he dialed and then complained into his Galaxy, Dwalin moved back to the flatbed, climbing into the cabin to start the hydraulics to lower the ramp. As it moved into place, he climbed back out, emergency triangles in one hand and road flares in the other, and set them out behind the box truck. He lit three of the flares to place parallel to the box truck as well. A few months ago, a driver in the next two had gotten killed trying to hook up a disabled vehicle, so Dwalin took no chances.

Then he set to work hooking up the cables to draw the box truck onto the bed, climbed up into the box truck itself to set the transmission into neutral, and then return to the black flatbed again to winch it in and lock it into place.

“Ye can ride with me,” he called to the man still yelling into his cell. The man just waved him off, and as Dwalin turned, he held his hand in front of his chest, middle finger extended, then moved to gather up the triangles, extinguish the flares, and climbed back in behind the flatbed’s wheel.

Finally, the man graced him with his presence, climbing up into the passenger seat and throwing himself down with a heavy sigh. “How far is the service station from here?”

“Not quite two miles,” Dwalin replied, turning over the engine and eased the transmission into first gear. As they slowly rocked back onto the road, he added, “Ye’ll have the best mechanics in the state working on this and it’ll be up and running before you know it.”

“Great. Too bad I’ll miss my drop-off time, which means I get to eat the inventory in there.”

Dwalin looked over at him. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that. But, it beats standing out on the side of the road. There’s a diner across the street where ye can get a bite to eat while Thorin or Kili takes a look.”

“Wonderful.”

Dwalin depressed the clutch, shifted into second, and then third, and little by little, worked his way up through the gears. There wasn’t much traffic out this morning, at least, not until they crossed the town line. Then the road grew clogged and he had to downshift.

As Durin’s Garage came into sight, he slowed further, and carefully maneuvered the flatbed back into the lot, lining it up with the bay on the far right, which was recently vacated by a green Audi. They jerked back and forth slightly as he crept back, eyes trained on his mirrors.

Then, they stopped and the air brakes hissed as they decompressed. The man climbed down as Thorin came out of the bay, wiping his hands on an oil-stained rag. “This the truck from Seven?”

Dwalin nodded as he jumped down. “Yeah. I told him to go grab a bite across the street.” He nodded at the man, who was already halfway across Main Street. “He’s a real friendly sort.”

“The two of you must’ve got on great, then,” Thorin drawled, tucking the rag into the pocked of his Carhartt jumpsuit.

“Funny.” Dwalin climbed up to begin unhooking the box truck. “So, how was yer night?”

Thorin grinned. “I’m not kissing and telling. Yours?”

“Ye know that bartender from the Dunraven?”

“The little one?” Thorin waited for him to nod, then said, “Yeah. What about her?”

Dwalin smiled and said, “Took her for a ride on my bike this morning.”

Thorin’s grin widened. “‘Bout time, my friend.”

“Yeah, well, I’m taking her out tonight. Dinner, I think. We’re going to the Nest. That’s not too dive-y, is it?” He unhooked the last cable, then moved to climb down. “Get in and I’ll lower ye.”

Thorin climbed up into the cab. “Dive-y?”

“Yeah.” Dwalin paused at the controls to lower the bed and unwind the winch, “ye know, the kind of place that ye'd find me, but would be surprised to find her there. I don’t think she does dive bars on her off days.”

Thorin shook his head. “She doesn’t do them on her work days, either. The Dunraven may be many things, but a dive bar is not one of them.”

“Do ye think she’ll like it?”

“I don’t know. She’s your date!”

Dwalin waited for Thorin to get settled, then he lowered the bed and set the winch to unspool while Thorin maneuvered the box truck carefully into the bay. Once the flat bed was empty, Dwalin rerolled the winch and set there be flat once more and then climbed back into the cab. But before he could put it into first, Kili came out of the office. “We got another one for you, Dwalin. A Chevy Suburban out on Kilmer that has no brakes.”

Thorin came out of the garage. “Not Abrams again.”

“‘Fraid so,” Kili grinned at him, “and she asked that you do the work yourself, Thorin.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve got plans for tonight and they do not involve Miss Abrams or her fucking SUV.”

Dwalin shook his head as Kili turned toward him. “I’ve also got plans, junior. This one is yers or Fili’s. I’ll go get her, but I’m droppin’ her in yer lap.”

Usually, on your off day, you ran all the errands you didn't have time to do during the days when you worked. Your normal shift was noon to ten, although sometimes on weekends you did six to two in the morning, when the Dunraven closed.

And today was no exception when it came to those damned errands. You went to the bank, to the post office, returned a couple of library books before they were late, and as you came out of the library, you saw a big, shiny black flatbed with with words Durin’s Garage written in elegant gold script on the door, and caught sight of Dwalin behind the wheel. Your heart gave a weird little leap and your belly twisted in a way that reminded you of when you were in middle school and saw the boy you’d been crushing on all marking period. It’d been a long time since you felt those maddening butterflies, since just the sight of the guy you crushed on was neigh to unleash them.

It had been such a wonderful night, even if you didn't get much sleep as a result. It was hard to complain, since good sex was absolutely worth a little sleep deprivation.

He wanted to take you to the Nest. You’d never been there before and had no idea what it was like. What was the dress code? Casual? Formal? There were restaurants of all stripes in town, so neither one was too far out of the realm of the possible.

And that left you in a quandary.

What did you wear?

This was the finest of lines you could walk. Too fancy, and he might think you a snob. Too causal, and you risk offending him by showing him you didn't think he would take you to a nice restaurant. Your relationship was so new, you had no idea how easily offended he might be, or how sensitive he might be about certain matters. The last thing you wanted to do was have him think you were judging him and finding him lacking, and the last thing you needed was him doing the same to you.

When you returned home, you had three more voice mails from your father. All were erased, unheard, and you sat on your sofa, cell phone in hand, trying to work up the nerve to call Dwalin. You hadn’t had this many butterflies in your belly since you were twelve and trying to call Jeff Moretti to ask him to borrow his science notes. Which was silly, really, because you already knew Dwalin wanted you to call him, already knew you would see him later.

And yet, you couldn’t make your fingers see reason.

“Oh, you are such an ass,” you muttered, tapping the phone lightly against your forehead. “Just. Call. Him.”

It took you several more minutes of arguing with yourself before you finally pulled up the keypad and dialed. Another minute to hit send. Then you waited.

“The caller you have dialed is not available. At the tone, please leave a message. Thank you.”

You rolled your eyes and at the beep, said, “Hi there, it’s me. I was just calling to see how your—ah—day was going because I—um… I saw you out on the highway and I just thought it’d—it’d be—ah—nice to just say hi. So, hi?”

You winced as you hung up. You tried so hard to sound breezy and casual and you ended up sounding like a total tool. Well, maybe he’d think it was cute. Maybe.

You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. One of the selling points of your apartment was the size of the walk-in closet in your room. It was almost a small room in and of itself, and while you tried to keep it neat, sometimes your inner Oscar Madison came roaring to life and it looked like your closet vomited clothes everywhere.

With a sigh, you went back out to the living room to retrieve your phone and Googled the Nest to peruse its website. Casual. Jeans and a nice top would be just fine.

This time, the phone landed in the middle of your bed and returned to the closet, where you stood in the middle of it, forefinger pressed to your lips, and studied everything hanging neatly, arranged first by season, then by color. Winter was coming, although it was nearly sixty degrees outside now. By tonight it would be back in the thirties, most likely. Dwalin rode a motorcycle.

You were going to freeze. It didn't matter what you wore. You were doomed to becoming a popsicle.

Of course, you did get to hold onto Dwalin, and that was nice. But, if your arms snapped off like icicles because of the cold, you’d not only fall off his bike, but you’d probably shatter when you hit the pavement as well. Not exactly a comforting thought.

But you’d worry about later. For now, you had to find the right thing to wear. Nothing too casual, nothing too fancy, nothing too boring, but nothing too sexy, either. First dates were a bitch to begin with, but this was worse when you’d already gone to bed with Dwalin. Now, it didn't really matter to a certain extent what you wore, because he’d already fucking seen you naked.

Still, you chose and rejected about a dozen different outfits and jumped when the buzzer went off. You darted down the hallway to the living room before he thought you’d changed your mind about everything, and hit the intercom button, “Dwalin?”

“It’s me, yeah. Ye expecting someone else?”

“No. Of course not.” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, it’s habit. Come on up.”

You pushed the button that would unlock the double glass doors in the vestibule, and waited for the knock on the front door, tugging it open when it came. “I’m here, sorry about that.”

He smiled. “Sorry about what?”

“Just.. uh…” you winced, “everything? It’s been a long day. Come on in.”

He stepped inside and let out a low whistle. “Damn… This makes my place look like a dump.”

“Oh, stop it, your place is perfectly nice and you know it.” You closed the door behind him, leaning against it as you watched him take in the large living room, which was almost twice the size of the one in his apartment. You flinched again, trying to see it thorough his eyes and being hopelessly embarrassed by it. His apartment offered up warmth and hominess, but yours? Yours was cold and impersonal, the arctic white walls and dark gray trim chosen by the interior decorator your father hired, not you. But since it technically wasn’t your apartment, changing it was out of the question. If he saw it, you’d never hear the end of it.

“I don’t know,” he said, gesturing to the dark gray sectional sofa that almost perfectly matched the trim. “This looks like something out of a magazine.”

You sighed, pushing away from the door. “It’s my father’s doing. He chose everything about it from the paint colors to the location. He wanted me to be safe because he—he worries. You know how fathers can be. Always afraid I’ll be murdered in my own bed.”

“I don’t have any sisters.” He stared up at the painting hanging over the fireplace. “Only a brother and our father never worried we’d be murdered in our beds.”

He glanced over one shoulder at you. “Is that ye?”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you slowly nodded. The portrait was of you and your parents, done when you were still a gawky teenager and you hated it but if you took it down, the next time your father came to call, you knew you’d hear about it. So the ugly duckling stayed on the wall.

“Ye were cute.” He turned to you, shrugging out of his heavy leather jacket tp drape it over the arm of the sofa.

“Cute? I look like a troll there.”

“Nah,” he crossed over to you, arms folded as he peered down at you, “A goblin, maybe, but not a troll.”

“Oh, that’s much better,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “thank you.”

“Lucky for ye, I’ve a soft spot for goblins.”

“You know, I don’t think I want to go out with you tonight.”

A low chuckle rolled your way and he caught your cheeks between his palms. “It sounded better in my head.”

“It should’ve stayed there.” You couldn’t resist smiling as his thumbs swept along your cheekbones. They were so light, so gentle, you almost couldn’t feel it, but with each graze, you seemed to grow a little warmer. No man ever had this effect on you before. He only had to gaze at you with those piercing blue eyes, and your heart skipped a beat, your blood warmed by several degrees, and an unfamiliar heat swelled between your legs.

His cologne touched your nose—a sexy combination of sandalwood and hints of patchouli—and that only made the heat warmer still. He also looked almost edible in faded Levi’s and a black henley, which he’d left unbuttoned enough to allow a hint of silver-tipped chest hair to peek up.

He leaned toward you, his lips soft and teasing when they met yours. On their own, your fingers curved about his massive forearms, your lips parting at the slight pressure of his tongue against them. His fingers stretched into your hair, his kiss deepening as his tongue skimmed along yours, as it teased yours with a slow, silken caress. He absolutely knew how to kiss, knew just how to tease and taste and stroke to start a low, pleasant hum through your body. As his lips moved so softly against yours, your hips arced toward his, sought out that part of him that just made you want to melt at his feet.

You slid your hands down his forearms, eased your arms about his waist, your heart skipping a beat when he pulled away. “We should go now, mesmel,” his whisper was low and growly, “for if I keep kissing ye, we are not leaving this apartment.”

His kiss, his words, left you somewhat breathless. “Mesmel?”

He brushed your lips once more, then stepped back. “Ye wouldn’t believe me if I told ye.”

“Try me.”

“Later.” He picked up his jacket to shrug into, then added, “Ready?”

“Dwalin,” you leveled a long look at him, “what does it mean?”

He looked about. “Where is your coat?”

“Dwalin!”

A hint of color appeared along his cheekbones above his bushy dark beard and he took a deep breath before saying, “It means my jewel of jewels.”

That was not what you expected and you just stared at him for a long moment, your face growing warm. No one ever said anything remotely similar to that to you. “In… what language?”

Draping the leather jacket over his arm, he said, “Khuzdal. It’s an old language, passed down through my family for generations. Not many speak it these days.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t. As I said, it’s almost a dead language.”

“But you speak it? Fluently?”

“I do, yes.” He shrugged into his jacket. “If ye like, I can teach ye some of it.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I did, mesmel.

“Mesmel.” You smiled then, moving to stand before him, a hand resting on his chest. “Is that how you see me? Already?”

“It’s how I’ve seen ye since the first time I saw ye, if that makes any sense.”

“It does.”

“I told ye I wanted to ask ye out for a long time. Just never had the balls to do it before now.” He glanced down at the long, black wool coat you’d draped over the sofa arm earlier. “We should go.”

Before you could reach for it, he swept the coat up and held it out for you. With a smile, you shrugged into it and then spun about to brush his cheek with a kiss. “I’m glad you finally found the balls, Dwalin.”

He grinned. “Makes two of us.”

You locked the door behind you and led him to the elevator. Once you were outside, you shivered as the wind had picked up to send leaves scuttling along the sidewalk, but as you scanned the parking lot, you didn't see the Harley. “Where’s your bike?

“Ye didn’t think I’d actually make ye ride on the back of it in this weather, did you?” He dug a set of car keys from his jacket pocket and led you over to a sleek, black Corvette Stingray. You looked up to find him grinning at you.

“So, wait.” You gestured toward the Corvette. “This is yours, but you walked to the bar last night anyway??

“Yeah. I don’t mind walking. Especially in the snow. I'd rather walk than risk cracking this up. It took me two years to restore her.”

“Wait? You did this?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I work with cars, remember?”

“Well, I know, but... damn…” You took in the Stingray's sleek lines and mint-condition. “What year is this?”

“Seventy-five.”

“Dwalin.”

“What? I really don't mind being out in the cold. This is my time of the year, so I’m perfectly fine with walking in it.”

“You’re nuts.”

“So I’ve been told.”

You nodded at the ’Vette. “And this is yours?”

“It’s mine.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “And here I thought I’d be freezing my ass off hanging onto you on the back of a motorcycle.”

“Do I look that crazy? It’s too damn cold to ride at night now. But,” he draped an arm about your neck and pulled you close to brush your lips with before growling, "when the weather gets warmer, yer going to be hanging on to me very chance we get.”

“I don’t think I’ll mind that all that much,” you told him, smiling as he kissed you again. “I kind of like the feeling of holding on to you.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He grinned, pulling back. “Let’s go, before they give our table away and we end up sitting near the kitchen.”

[cherripeach]

Chapter 14

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:11-12 good credit, bad credit, you dead: ghost credit

Running to the store on campus, so cute.

Warnings: Curse words, implied violence

Words: 3.1k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

Ace groaned while face planting on the counter, “We finally finished peeling them all!”

Deuce moaned in pain, “My arms hurt…” He, then, stretched his arms and popped some of his knuckles while rolling his neck. 

You agreed with the two boys, “Yeah, I don’t wanna move for the next decade.” You made your seat on one of the stools next to the counter to take a break after standing for what felt like hours. 

Trey chuckled at your reactions, “Great work. I’m sure that your hard work will all be worth it.” While you three were sulking, Trey began cleaning up as much as possible by putting things away and putting things in the dishwasher. 

Grim grumbled, “I’m getting hungry just by the smell, yanno.” The cat had tried to take as much of the ingredients as possible while you were preparing, but barely managed to get any.

Trey took a sheet of paper out from a binder and sorted some of the ingredients next to some cooking utensils, “The marron base uses butter and sugar. And then, I also added some oyster sauce as a secret ingredient.”

Ace and Deuce jumped up from their positions of dread in shock, “Oyster sauce?!”

Trey placed the sheet down and grabbed a bottle of the sauce,  “Exactly. The savory flavor of the chestnuts gives the cream a rich flavor. And then, to make it better, I use this,” He motioned to the sauce in his hand,  “‘Walrus-brand young oyster sauce’.  There’s no famous pâtissière who doesn’t use this for their tarts, you know?” He ended it all with a closed eyed smile. 

Deuce mumbled, “Really…? It’s a pretty salty sauce, isn’t it?”

“You know how they put chocolate in curry, too?” Ace gave an example,  “It kinda makes sense…”

You were,  on the other hand, not having it, “Naw, dude. It doesn't; sweet can't just nullify salt or reverse. It’s practically impossible.” You shook your head while the two idiots were just pouting in their confusion. 

Trey chuckled while clutching his stomach, “You're right! I was just joking! There’s no way I’d put oyster sauce in a dessert, you know? How’d you know?”

The two idiots never would have guessed that. 

Ace’s hand’s shot up in his defense, pointing at his senior, “What the heck!? Are you making fun of us!?”

“It’s obviously impossible if you think about it a little.” Trey’s lighthearted giggle switched to a more wise old lecture, “The moral lesson here is that you shouldn’t believe anything you’re told. Learn to doubt a bit, okay?”

You nodded your head, “See, Ace. I don’t gotta learn that because I knew right away.” 

You were a genius. In all eyes besides Ace’s, that is. 

Ace snorted, “I bet it was a lucky guess.”

You fought back, “Pshhhh. No way.” You knew this was just the start of one of your many squabbles. 

Grim whispered to you behind his hand, “This guy looks nice, but he’s the type who can tell lies with no problem, huh…”  

“I guess so.” Your eyes widened at Grim’s statement. 

Trey rallied you all together to begin the next step, “Next is the fresh cream!”

A shrill scream ran through the air.

Ace bounced up and questioned Trey, “What’s wrong?”

You joined Ace with your question, “Are you okay?”

“I got carried away with the chestnuts you picked that I went overboard with making the marron base.” Trey laughed at himself and rubbed the back of his head, “We’re a little short on fresh cream.”

Deuce offered, “I’ll go buy some. Do they sell it in the school store?”

Trey explained,  “That shop sells pretty much anything, so I’m sure it should be there. Can I ask you to buy some other stuff while you’re at it? Two packs of milk, two cartons of eggs, silicon cups, and five canned fruits…” He writes down the list of items and hands them to Deuce. 

Deuce reads the list before commenting, “I don’t think I can carry all of that alone…” 

This was your chance, “I’ll come! I need to see if they have uniforms there, anyway.” Maybe you could find some uniforms or even some other clothes for a nice price as if you had any money. 

Grim interjected,  “I’m going, too! I don’t wanna mix more dough!” He raised his little paw as far as his body would allow it. 

“Understandable.”  You did not need to lose your arms over baking. 

The three of you began your walk to the grocery store on campus with only some light chatter about how excited you all were to taste the finished product and how Grim shouldn’t steal it all. 

The grocery store was the size of a drug store, but apparently from what Trey said it had everything anyone at this school needed. It’s gotta be a magic store.  

“We sure this is it?” You questioned Deuce because he was sure to know more than you, right?

Deuce pointed out, “I haven’t heard of any other shops here.” 

Grim quickly agreed, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s get a move on!”

While still warry, you approached the place behind the two overexcited shoppers, both who had stars in their eyes as someone from a novel would say. 

Deuce gazed around the place with wide eyes after opening the door where a little bell rang, “Pardon us! Whoa, what an amazing shop… Crystal skulls, magical texts, and… wh-what sort of animal is this…?” Deuce motioned to an animal’s skeleton that was just laying out on one of the shelves. Grim and Deuce took two steps closer to inspect the animal while you took two steps back. 

Grim, who began to travel by himself around the store, questioned Deuce and you, “Can we really find some fresh cream here?”

“I’d be surprised if we couldn't find it.” You opened a box that was filled with dusty books while nodding to Grim. 

Out of nowhere came a voice near the counter,  “Hey! Little lost lambs, what can I help you with? Welcome to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop.” The man had one of the oddest outfits with a bright pink shirt but then a black and dark purple jacket. His fashion sense was certainly new, but his vibe was what shocked you the most. Almost like he knew too much. What is it that you wish for today? A charm against cheating?” He pulled out a slip of paper from his chest pocket, “ An ancient king’s mirror?” a small mirror from his sleeve,  “Or maybe, some cursed tarot cards?” He even pulled a box out of thin air. 

Grim was frozen in shock for a moment and joined the conversation with a breath, “Ah, you startled me!”

You added on, “He reminds me of those characters from video games and movies that are just normal store owners or vendors that have some of the oddest items.” Looking at his shop, you believed yourself for a moment. 

The three of you made your way to the little counter at the back of the store. 

Deuce took out the list from his pocket and handed it to the man, “Um… We would like to buy the things written on this note.”

Grim used his arms to pull his face onto the counter as to be seen and begged,  “And I also want some canned tuna!”

“With what money?” You waved at him in disbelief,  “And I have a question for you, Mystery man.”

Deuce pushed Grim off of the counter,  “No! We will not buy any canned tuna!” which only caused Grim to growl at Deuce. 

The male scanned the note while tapping his finger in his chin,  “Mhmm. What do we have here? Fresh cream and eggs… Oh, my! What a pretty sweet line-up” He gave Deuce a thumbs up, “OK! I shall bring them out now. And I’ll get back to you in just a minute.” The male nodded at you with a small wink at the end of his sentence. 

Totally an odd vibe.

Deuce gasped in disbelief letting go of Grim’s fur,  “Whoa… Will he really have some here?”

You voiced your thoughts, “Maybe the back is just really big?”

The man returned with five bags full of items on your list, “Here, thank you for the wait. It is rather heavy, so are you sure you can carry them all?” The male, then gestured to a sign right next to the cash register about a special bag to carry all the items, “If you act now, I can throw in a special bag to carry all of those things for 30% off of its original price!” Deuce took out the money Trey gave him and handed it to the shopkeeper. 

Grim blurted out, “What did you say? Hey, that sounds interesting!” The cat grabbed your clothes as he normally does pointing at the sign to get your attention focused on it. 

Deuce shook his head while grabbing three of the five bags, “We. We will have to decline! Let’s go, Grim!”

“But why?! I wanna play more!” A pointing Grim was not resulting in a good day for anyone, but at this rate you couldn’t spend money on any food. 

“About that question,” You brought it up to the shopkeeper. 

The off-vibe man nodded,  “Ok, what's the problem, little lost lamb?”

You asked, “Do you sell uniforms or at least know where I can find one?”

“I should have some, but they're all used ones. I’ll even cut the price because of how damaged they are.” He then told you the price which was great for uniforms but as someone who owned no cash, not the best.

You thanked the male as you picked up the last two bags while the other two began to walk out, “Thanks! I’m gonna come back once I have the money, but please save them for me.” 

“Ok! of course, little lost lamb. I’ll have them in stock just for you.” He winked at you again, and at this point and time you’re just gonna assume it’s normal for him. 

“Thank you so much!!” You responded while finally walking out of the shop. 

Once outside, Deuce began a new conversation, “That was a very amazing shop, in a way…”

Grim was still pouting at the two of you for not giving him free food, “Boo, you two are so stingy.” His arms were snuggly crossed over one another and even his ears were flattened against his head. 

Deuce swung around to ask Grim, “Who are you calling stingy?!” This, however, almost resulted with Grim getting a concussion because of how the bag of canned fruits and heavy cream knocked Grim to the ground. 

Deuce quickly apologized, “Sorry!”

You placed your bag to check on Grim by feeling on his head for any bumps or any scrapes from the bag,  “Well, no one would give a brat what they want now would they? I know you want some tuna, but money is tight right now and I can’t get you any for a while. Once I save up enough, I promise I’ll get you some.” You brushed back his hair before flicking at his forehead, “Just remember to keep that ego in check. Soon, who knows, maybe I can even buy a hairbrush and maybe even a phone.”

 Deuce coughed before fixing the bags in his hold to reach his hand out to you, “The bag with the milks is heavy, isn’t it? I’ll hold it for you. I’m experienced with carrying heavy loads.”

You shook your head, “No way, lover boy, I can handle myself just so you know. And besides that's an odd area of expertise. Any reason why?” You kept walking to distract the male from taking your bag.

Deuce flushed red before starting his explanation, “Yeah, Mother always takes me with her during timed sales. She buys a lot, so I end up helping her with the bags. I’m the only man in the family, so I’m used to helping a lot with hard labor. Ah, I’m sorry… I keep talking about myself.” His face flushed even darker. 

You rolled your eyes, “That is incredibly sweet of you, Deuce. Don’t be scared to talk to me about anything. We’re friends. You must care for your mother a lot with how you talk about her.”

Deuce stuttered, “No… That’s not true at all. I… Mother was…” Deuce flies back onto the ground after connecting with someone’s chest, “Ouch!”

All of the materials that Deuce was holding fell to the ground, but the biggest problem was that the eggs were now completely broken and leaking everywhere on the sidewalk. 

Grim gasped and fell to his knees to try and save the groceries, “Ah, the eggs!!”

“Hey, you ok?” You reached out your hand to Deuce who grabbed it so that you could pull him up onto both of his feet. 

Deuce locked eyes on the bag of now broken eggs and cursed, “Damn it!” He picked up the bag of eggs and began to check to see if any of the eggs were not broken and could be used, “All the eggs in the carton broke! The plastic bag’s now reeking with eggs…!” Deuce tossed them in the trash while Grim squirmed to grab the bag from him. 

A white haired familiar looking male scoffed at the three of you, “That hurt! Where the hell’re ya lookin’ at,” His eyes darted to each member of your little group before continuing, “Wha? You’re the guys who ruined my carbonara’s soft-boiled egg during lunch today!” 

Another familiar red haired student was right on his side, “Damn, it’s you guys again. Ya better give us a break.” 

You grabbed as many bags as you could carry that Deuce had before, and you snorted, “And I thought I already crushed your egos, but I should have known you can't break a brick for a brain.”

The white haired boy snickered at the three of you, “Well it seems the little supervisor can’t even get us in trouble so no need for fear. You can’t harm us.” 

Deuce had been standing in place for the last couple of seconds with his eyes on his feet, “…Aren’t you the ones at fault for bumping into me?” His sharp gaze met that of the duo of delinquents, “Even during lunch. The egg wasn’t really that badly harmed, but you made a huge scene out of it. Our carton of eggs is totally ruined, though.” Deuce rolled up the sleeves to his jacket. 

Grim agreed standing as tall as he could across from the two upperclassmen, “He’s totally right!”

You walked over to where Deuce and Grim had made their little fighting stance, “Let’s just leave. They’re not gonna listen and we shouldn't get into a fight with idiots.” To further get Deuce’s attention, you pulled into the shoulder of his jacket to motion toward the bags, “We can always replace them. Let’s just get what we have back.”

The white haired boy swore, “The hell? You sayin’ it’s my fault, then? And idiots? I’m much smarter than any of you. Respect your elders!”

Deuce paid no mind to you or your constant poking on his shoulder, “Yes, please pay us back for the eggs. And also, please apologize to the chickens.”

“Hah?” The red haired boy quipped at Deuce, “Makin’ a ruckus over eggs, are we?”

Deuce grunts, “Hah?” before turning to you, “Remember the promise right?”

You nodded at him. 

“Then, back up.” He lightly pushed you to make you back up, “And don’t get involved.”  You locked eyes with the male only to see his eyebrows furrowed and a large scowl on your face. And as much as you wanted to help him and get him out of this situation, there’s nothing you can do against magic users. At least not yet.

The two other students did not realize how ready Deuce was to make this physical or how personal this was. 

The whit haired boy groaned, “It didn’t hit the ground so you can still eat it. Stop makin’ a fuss over little things.” The boy slapped his friend before whispering something to him. 

The other boy snickered before adding, “Ya better be thankful they broke inside the plastic bag!” 

“Not only are they dumb, but blind too,” You mumbled to yourself which Grim could hear from his small chortle. 

Deuce still had not lost his eye contact with the other two boys, seemingly eyeing them down to wait for the perfect moment. 

Both of the boys let out the largest giggles possible that a teenage boy could without sounding like girls gossiping with their heads thrown back and their hands clutching their stomachs. 

“Laughing at something that is surely your fault.” You rolled your eyes while trying to get the boy’s attention on Deuce who was in your eyes about to murder a bitch, “I think you should just pay us back for it. Maybe some extra too for having to deal with your terrible attitude to even it out.” 

Neither student responded to you only grunting out stiffles of laughter for the next couple of seconds. 

Deuce muttered to himself breaking eye contact with the two to gaze down at his hand which was clenched like in one of those TV shows when a character is going to do something he regrets, “... Mess with me, will you…”

White haired kid raises his eyebrows in confusion as Deuce looks to be slowly going insane,  “Huh?”

Deuce exploded at the two, “I told you to stop laughing, damn it!!” His feet began to move closer and closer to the two who just stood in horror for the boy who was once silent, “You ain’t got no choice but to apologize for something that’s your fault! These eggs will be used to make a delicious tart in place of turning into chicks, bastard!! Do you understand me, huh!?”

“Wh-what’s with him all of a sudden…?!” The red haired boy was backing away from the approaching student and had a look of disbelief on his face. 

Deuce grabbed his fist in one hand and cracked the knuckles of the other one, “If you’re not gonna pay me back for the 6 eggs, I got no choice but to beat the hell out of you six times.”

The white haired male faltered, “Huh!?” before seeing the blue haired male coming straight for him with his fists in a fighting position. 

 “Grit your teeth, you little bastards!!” And with that Deuce began his little fight by pulling at the kid’s clothes and punching them a little too hard.

“Where does that phrase even come from?” But what could you do besides stand there and wait even if you didn’t want the two to get hurt going into the fight now would be harmful.

You really need to stop getting involved in fights.