#that time he got penalty but refused to take it until he wanted to so he went and won the race by a big enough of a margin

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Somewhere, somewhere Michael Schumacher is smirking because in his soul he knows Fernando is carrying his legacy of being a cunt to the FIA and we love to see it <3

#i mean Michael literally learnt the rule book and used so many loopholes against the FIA had to start changing rules to stop him lmao #that time he got penalty but refused to take it until he wanted to so he went and won the race by a big enough of a margin #so that they penalty wouldn't matter &then went to the pit to sit the penalty after winning because technically it wasn't against the rules #king shit #my favorite war criminals #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #fernando alonso #michael schumacher #we did it nando we got your podium back!!!

[01zfan]

argue with you | s. es

valedictorian!eunseok x debate team leader!reader | 6.6k words

a request that i really enjoyed writing. part two here!

contains: academic rivals, semi public shenanigans, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving.)

you loved debate. you joined it because it was a mix of two things you loved in life, arguing with people and winning. you were grateful that you were able to get close with the people on the debate team too, finding kids your age with such interesting minds. you loved everyone on your debate team and they loved you, so it was no surprise when you were unanimously voted the leader of the debate team. life was perfect on the debate team.

until eunseok joined.

it was a normal day after school, following your friends as you walked in a group to the debate practice room.

“our sponsor said someone new is joining the team.” giselle said to your group.

“this late?” wonbin asked.

“technically the season has barely started. we are still prepping for tournaments.” yunjin said.

your crew was behind you as you opened the door to the debate room. you looked back at them, not expecting anyone to be in the room yet.

“yeah but still. unless he has previous knowledge about debate he will just drag the rest of us down.” you said.

the shocked expression on yunjin’s face told you everything you needed to know. eunseok sat at one of the tables, hearing everything you said about him. 

you didn’t hate eunseok when he first joined. you actually felt pretty bad for making such a terrible first impression. eunseok was also projected to be the valedictorian, you could never bring yourself to hate someone who was so smart. you immediately apologized, saying you didn’t know he was in the room but he said nothing in response. eunseok being indifferent towards you was a first. many gravitated towards you or spoke about you in high regard. being liked came easily for you, so the fact that eunseok couldn’t be bothered irked you to no end.

you were surprised you had never crossed paths with eunseok before. you never had him in any of your classes despite both of you being enrolled in the same curriculum. you didn’t know him, your social circles didn’t collide either. he had joined the debate team late in the semester, wanting a final thing to put on his college applications. you thought it was ridiculous. he was already top of his class what more did he need? 

because eunseok joined the debate team with such high markings he came with an attitude you didn’t like. he was careless, didn’t take notes and always debated in the affirmative. he was novice at best, always trying to take you on in policy debates. at first it was easy to crush him, pointing out his ad populum fallacies and taking advantage of his lack of knowledge. he had it coming, challenging the best debater on the team. he refused to study so you threw the book at him each time, winning your debates with ease. people on your team always watched the arguments. they were ooo’ing and ah’ing as you two fought it out.

you couldn’t help but get even more upset at eunseok remaining nonchalant through every debate. even if he got hit with a penalty or his argument was rebutted he’d let it wash off him like rain, shrugging his shoulders before moving to the next topic. you wanted to best him, you wanted to see him break a sweat.

to your disliking he quickly improved. it was unfair, someone so uninvolved with debate coming in and learning everything with ease. it wasn’t long before he had you struggling to counter his arguments. when he first argued with you in a negative it filled you with rage. how did he get so good? it didn’t help that he swayed the lay judges, his confidence when speaking made the average person who didn’t know about policies believe that eunseok had the answers. his attitude didn’t just win over the lay judges, but also your team. he won them over quickly, they thought he was charismatic and funny.

it wasn’t long until he was voted to be the co-leader of the team and your individual events turned to public forum debates with eunseok as your partner.

“looks like we are going to be getting real close.” eunseok said, looking at your names side by side on the competition sheet.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. you believe the debate gods had it out for you. everyone else on debate said that you two were the dream team and your probability of winning was high. your probability to win alone was higher, and eunseok would just drag you down.

“just don’t get in my way, eunseok.” you said.

you looked up at the man with the most hate you could muster in your body. you almost felt bad when you saw sadness wash across his face, but it was quickly replaced with his same nonchalant expression. he shrugged his shoulders and put his hand on your tense ones. you got indignant from his touch but he smirked.

“we will do well.” eunseok said simply.

no matter how much you hated to admit it, you two did make a good team. his confidence and talent for public speaking combined with your arguments you two were unbeatable. it wasn’t long before you took your team to nationals for the first time in your school’s history. it was becoming harder and harder to hate eunseok. it turned into a mild disliking that formed because of a misunderstanding. you were determined to keep up appearances, rolling your eyes when he would be mentioned or when he’d put his arm on your shoulder and call you ‘partner’. 

you started to think eunseok liked trying to piss you off. he would always be in your personal space, walking behind you through crowds of people, saying your name constantly, always having that teasing tone to his voice. he was also always stuck to you, following you everywhere especially at debate tournaments. he sat next to you on the bus, lifting up your headphones to talk to you directly in your ear.

“we’re here.” he said.

you snatched your headphones away from him and gave him your best glare. eunseok developed the nasty habit being annoying just to get a rise out of you. some of the only times you’d see him break the calm demeanor he had debating was when he’d smile after telling you a bad joke or stepping on the backs of your shoes. each time you rolled his eyes and he would place his hands on your shoulders. it seemed like his favorite place to be sometimes, shaking you lightly as you shrugged him off.

you get up from the front seat of the bus. your team progressively woke up from their naps. the drive was about an hour and a half. you saw your team yawn and stretch, looking for their things in the seat. you stretch too, turning around getting ready to read the itenerary and the list for debates today.

“everyone pay attention.” eunseok said from his seat beside you.

no one told eunseok to sit next to you on the bus. you assumed it became an unspoken rule, the leader and co-leader sitting side by side. you considered this to be a plus as well, just in case you wanted to go over anything with eunseok before the tournament. you two rarely spoke on the bus ride to competitions though. it would always be a surprisingly not awkward silence.

eunseok didn’t have to raise his voice to get everyone to listen to him. you envied that about him, his ability to command a room. all eyes are on you as you clear your throat. 

“okay everyone. first and foremost, happy debate day.” you say smiling

“happy debate day!” everyone says back it back to you in unison. 

everyone cheers and you look at the clipboard with the debate assignments.

“okay so for our IE’s we have giselle, yeji, and anton.”

eunseok watches you read off their names like a teacher doing roll call. giselle, yeji, and anton all give you a nod after hearing their name to show they heard you. eunseok watched as you went down the list of names on the paper, quickly scanning for to see who would be debating. eunseok lingered on your furrowed eyebrow for a split second before brushing a piece of hair out of his face.

“for our policy debates we have our freshmen duos eunchae bahiyyih and kyujin jiwoo. this is their first national competition ever.” you exclaim and so does the rest of the bus. everyone cheers for the four girls, sinking in their backseats giggling.

“it’s a busy day for all of us but if you can please sit in on their debate to��silently cheer them on.” you emphasis silently to look at eunseok. 

he shrugs his shoulders and the bus giggles. how was he supposed to know he wasn’t allowed to clap after a good argument? 

“we have yunjin running as support so don’t be afraid to run your notes by her, especially our IE’s.” you say, pointing your hand towards yunjin.

yunjin raises her hand from her seat in the middle to show everyone where she is. you rack your mind trying to think what other operational things you can say. you tap tap the clipboard against your hand, trying to see if the sound can rattle your mind enough to remember other things.

“don’t be afraid to approach the senior members of the team if you need help. also please travel in pairs if you’re going to the restroom. lunch is at 12:30 in the cafeteria. we will also get our room assignments for the hotel tonight so please be don’t skip it. oh, and our sponsor and chaperones are here too, they just arrived a little earlier to set up. everyone has their numbers right?” you ask.

everyone on the bus gives you the affirmative. you set your clipboard down at your side, almost done with your piece.

“this is our first nationals our school has ever been to so lets have fun and let’s win.”

you say your final line expecting cheers. everyone on the bus smiles or looks at you expectantly waiting to say something. 

you’re about to ask what’s wrong until you see eunchae’s hand in the back row seat raise. you look to her and you can see several people holding back laughs. you look to your side and see eunseok’s shameless toothy grin.

“eunchae what’s up?” you ask. 

you hear little concealed laughs. eunchae does her best at hiding a smile from her face.

“who’s doing the public forum debate?” eunchae asks.

her four friends all laugh and you can feel your face getting hot. you clear your throat, trying to show you’re unbothered.

“oh. for our public forum debate it’s eunseok and i.” you say. 

you don’t know why you sound bashful, or why eunseok looks down with a smile on his face. you try to say not funny but your voice is drowned out when the bus erupts in ooh la la’s and almost paradise’s. you hide behind your clipboard and eunseok takes the lead, standing up beside you.

“don’t worry about us. we got this win, right partner?” eunseok asks. 

you shrug him off again as people file off the bus, taking their name badges from you. when it’s just you and eunseok left you nearly push him back down in the seat with the amount of force you put behind giving him his name tag. eunseok takes the tag silently and he moves backwards further into the bus so you can get off first.

“don’t feed into it, please.” you say. 

your eyes are trained on the clipboard, rereading names and debate times over and over again. eunseok walks behind you closely, like a mother watching her child walk through a parking lot. he picks up his speed so he can stand beside you. eunseok contemplates something, his normal pace of walking falters for only a second. he then speeds past you, joining the rest of the team as they enter the school building. you follow behind them, confused as to why your heart dropped when eunseok didn’t try to crack a joke at your expense. 

you watched him all day. your debate didn’t start until after lunch, so you served as a mentor for the other events happening before you. you gave the freshmen tips on what to say during a debate, knowing your arguments strengths and weaknesses to make your arguments more solid. they gathered in your information with open ears, running things they were going to say by you just to double check the validity of their arguments. you watched eunchae nod her head enthusiastically as she made notes in the margins of her clipboard. 

when you were done talking to them, you could see those same people going to eunseok. you wondered what they were talking about, until you saw eunseok show them posture and how to give facial expressions to help sway the lay men. in the middle of eunseok showing bahiyyih how to calm her nerves he looked up and locked eyes with you. any other time you would’ve rolled your eyes at eunseok, continuing with whatever you were saying. but this time you found yourself being cut off mid-sentence, suddenly looking down with a smile on your face.

because of your free schedule, you were able to go to almost all of the events your team was involved in. it started with the freshmen girls, kyujin and jiwoo went first. they did well, taking your advice on the notes you gave them. you watched them give good rejection speeches to the policy proposed by the other team. you knew the kyujin and jiwoo would do well, they both had siblings who were involved in debate. so when they won it didn’t come as a surprise. you gave them a big thumbs up from the back of the room and the at the pair smiled at you. when you got up to congratulate them, you saw that eunseok was sitting in the front of the debate hall. he must have been there for the whole thing.

you don’t know why it surprised you. eunseok was only competing in one event like you were, so he had all day free too. it just seemed like it was out of his character to sit in and cheer for another team, especially since you had asked the debate team to stop by if they could. you don’t know if it surprised you more that eunseok was listening attentively or that he came to the back of the lecture hall and sat by you while they got ready for eunchae and bahiyyih’s debate.

“don’t be nervous. they got this,” eunseok said. “they have a good teacher.”

you turned to look at him but he wasn’t looking at you. eunseok’s eyes were trained on the stage while volunteers set up the tables for the next debate. you smile and lean back in the seat.

“you get it.” you say smugly. 

you can practically hear eunseok roll his eyes at you. he laughs lightly and you smile too. you don’t know you smile, or why teasing eunseok makes you feel a little sheepish. you’re grateful that a few people come from your team and sit by the two of you. you can only watch the first half of the debate before you and eunseok have to leave for your public forum debate.

the team wishes you luck and you ask them to stay to cheer on eunchae and bahiyyih. they listen to you, saying they’ll join in the later half if possible. you nod and leave, eunseok following behind you closely. to exit the lecture hall you had to climb a few stairs. you tried to ignore eunseok’s presence behind you, his hand ghosting the small of your back ready to catch you if you fall. 

“i got it.” you said. 

your words didn’t have the usual bite they had. you sounded shy if anything. eunseok tsked behind you, his hand falling back slightly but still there.

“okay princess.” he says mockingly. 

the nickname is what causes you to almost trip over the steps as you exit the hall.

the trek to the debate hall is a quiet one. the silence wasn’t awkward, sometimes you preferred that so you could collect your thoughts before a debate. eunseok was the opposite—usually the chatty type. eunseok would be talking about random things not even pertaining to the debate and he would be pestering you with questions. it did help sometimes, easing the stress you felt. but this competition was important, so you wanted to lock in and focus.

eunseok watched you pace back and forth in the hallway. you would occasionally mumble something to yourself, probably some talking point you wanted to drill into your mind. eunseok reviewed all his notes the night before and on the bus ride while you slept. looking at his notes the day before helped him more than your method. he enjoyed watching you, though. the way you walked back and forth with your furrowed eyebrows, practicing your expressions. it was like eunseok was able to get a peak into your inner thoughts and the way your mind worked. over the course of the preseason he was able to learn some of your ticks as well. he saw you take your bottom lip between two fingers, a telltale sign that. you were nervous. 

eunseok cleared his throat, reminding you that he was there. you looked at him with a little bit of softness, waiting for him to say something. he loved when you looked at him with a little tenderness. eunseok would never admit he liked debating with you so much because in these moments he got to see you be a little bit vulnerable. the anxiety before a debate wore down your iron resolve just a little and eunseok basked in it.

“are you ready?” eunseok asked.

“i’m a little nervous. this determines if we advance in the season.” you said.

eunseok nodded his head knowingly. he didn’t want to make a big deal out of comforting you, afraid that if he was too comforting the soft look in your eyes would disappear.

“we got this. all preseason you crushed it.” eunseok said.

“could i have even done it without you?” you said. 

eunseok was taken aback by your words. you were never the type to vocalizes insecurity, especially when it came to debate. eunseok couldn’t stop his hand from going to your shoulder. your eyes grew wide before you got ahold of your expression, trying to seem as calm as possible.

“you absolutely destroy everyone in the district in independent events. i’m sure they have you in public forum so you can have more variety on your resume.” eunseok said.

eunseok watched the lightbulb go off in your head.

“i had never considered that.” you said queitly.

eunseok shrugged and took his hand off your shoulder, despite his mind begging him to keep it there. he put his hands in his pockets to ball his fists up.

“we got this. you are super smart and knowledgable about the topic.” eunseok says, face feeling hot.

before you can thank him, the assistant moderator comes outside. she motions you two into the debate hall.

the debate goes by smoothly. eunseok is the best at delivering opening statements. his tone and body language helps accurately portray what you want the audience and laymen understand. his opening statements also give you time to collect your thoughts, calming any anxiety you may have. although you were opposed to sharing the debate floor with someone, eunseok really does help calm you down. you find yourself leaning on him during some parts of the debate, and it’s comforting to see him lean on you too. you both truly do make an excellent team, coming together for the common purpose of winning. 

there’s some sort of tension that begins to build during the end of the debate. after refuting an inaccuracy in the opposing teams argument, you find yourself looking to eunseok so he can give you a look that says “good job”. you even let him challenge a claim and watching him proudly as he calls out a fallacy you would call him out for during practice. eunseok smiles each time you smile at him.

when you two are announced as winners eunseok pulls you into a hug. the relief from winning the first competition of the season has you hugging him back. when you two pull away it’s a little awkward. eunseok helps put the medal on your head and you helps him too.

you two leave the debate hall to your team waiting to congratulate you. they say they didn’t doubt you would win, and you smile at all of them. you smile extra hard at eunseok and the way he praises you in front of your whole team. you take a picture together, biting your medals like it’s made of real gold. you feel eunseok’s hand rest on the small of your back while taking the photo, and you let him wrap an arm. around you waist as you two hold up your pointer finger. 

if anyone in your team noticed the tension they say nothing. but you can feel it growing between the two of you. you both sit at a table helping the rest of the team with their events before lunch when giselle comes up to you. 

she asks for a spare clipboard, folders, and to bring the papers the printed from the copy machine. going into the storage room is something that only leaders of the team are allowed to do. it helps prevent overcrowding or people going into the storage room that aren’t supposed to. giselle also needs to go over everything with yunjin, running to grab supplies would just take away from her precious prep time.

“i’ll go with you,” eunseok says. “just in case you have trouble reaching something.”

in any other instance you would’ve given him your signature scowl and ignore him. you don’t know you laugh at the comment, no one at your table does. they look at you like you’ve grown an extra head, cracking a smile at one of eunseok’s terrible jokes. you get ahold of yourself and start walking away, letting him follow you.

eunseok follows behind you, reeling off the fact he made you laugh. the silence you two had was a little awkward now, and you silently curse yourself for laughing.

inside of the storage room is cramped to say the least. the archaic printer takes up a majority of the space, and an even older wooden table sits in front of it. you wait for the million papers giselle printed out in complete silence. eunseok’s height actually was useful, grabbing the folders and clipboard on the very top shelf.

“good job today.” eunseok says.

you look at him only for a split second before going back to looking at the papers come from the printer.

“you too, eunseok. you’re really good at pointing out fallacies now.” you say.

“well that’s all thanks to you.” eunseok says.

it’s so cramped in the storage room he hits something as he brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. you smile and shake your head.

“no that’s all you. you’re a fast learner.” you say.

“only because you pushed me to be.” eunseok laughs. “i know you hate me for joining so late and you think i don’t care about debate but i worked really hard to be good at it because of you.”

eunseok doesn’t know why he’s rambling off at the mouth going crazy with praising you. he finally gets you to look at him from the printer though. you have that same soft look you had outside of the debate hall.

“i don’t hate you, eunseok.” you protest. “i thought you hated me because of what i said when you first joined.”

eunseok shakes his head and laughs a little 

“i was never mad about that. i understood where you were coming from completely.”

the printer finishes its job while you and eunseok look at eachother. you can’t believe you spent this whole time thinking he hated you while it was all a misunderstanding. you feel embarrassed now, after all the times you were mean to him for no reason.

“i’m sorry.” you say sincerely.

“me too.” eunseok says back.

you two are silent and you go back to looking at the copy machine. eunseok clears his throat and you look at him. his expression had changed from a sorry one to a smirk. he leans against the large table and crosses his arms.

“you know, this whole time i thought you were being mean. but was it just flirting?” eunseok says.

you visibly stiffen at his comment. you turn to him wide eyed and in shock, eunseok looks at you with his mouth slightly open, proud of the reaction he’s able to pull from you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say, still wide eyed. 

eunseok slowly closes the space between the two of you. you suddenly are very aware of everything about him. the way he looks down at you. his hands, his mouth, his eyes. he’s so close to you it leaves nothing to imagination.

“it’s okay. do you know why i joined the debate team?” eunseok says.

he’s right in front of you now, and you can smell his cologne. you never realized how tall he was as he looked down at you. you shook your head, trying to find your voice. eunseok cocks an eyebrow and you clear your throat.

“for college applications?” you say meekly.

eunseok shakes his head.

“why would i need anything else on my college application?” eunseok asks.

“i don’t know.” you said.

“i actually joined because of this girl on the team i wanted to get to know better. so unfortunate i didn’t have a single class with her after all these years.” eunseok says.

you sit there and stare at eunseok. he just confessed to joining the team solely to get to know you better. now all the doting and teasing makes sense, but you still can’t believe it.

you’re in disbelief still when eunseok puts his hand underneath your chin to tip your head upwards. you are in disbelief when eunseok puts his lips on yours. you don’t know what comes over you when you pull at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. you suddenly can’t get enough of him, you want him all over you. you want to hear him praise you a million times over. you want to hear him call you a princess again. you stick your tongue into his mouth and he does the same to you.

both of your minds and bodies operate at a million miles a minute, focused solely on feeling everything. eunseok pulls you in closer, arching his body over yours. it feels like he’s going to swallow you whole the way he towers over your frame. you feel like your set on fire when eunseok’s hand goes to your ass and you jump up. he catches you with ease.

your body’s bump into almost every structure in the storage closet. you can feel your back press against the large printer and you can hear it being bumped into as eunseok turns you around. his hand leaves your body for only a second while he clears things off of the table. you hear clipboards, papers, and other office supplies hit the ground as eunseok sets you on top of the table gently.

eunseok pulls away from your lips. he looks at you and you look at him. for just a second it is completely silent in the storage room as you two stare at one another. you see out of the corner of your eye eunseok’s chest is heaving. you both give the other a chance to leave, a chance to profusely apologize for kissing. you stay on top of the table and look at eunseok’s pouting lips, hoping he gets the hint.

eunseok brings you in again with his hand underneath your chin leading you. it is softer than the first time, eunseok looking at your lips before they connect. he instantly deepens the kiss and you guys fight for a second trying to decide who gets to lead the other. you relinquish control to eunseok when you can feel him mess with the waistband of your pants. you let him undo the belt and the buttons. you do the same to him, using your shaking hands to pull down the zipper of his dress pants.

eunseok’s slacks drop to his ankles the same time he puts his hand underneath the waistband of your panties. eunseok uses his free hand to pull you closer to the edge of the table, for better access to you. eunseok wastes no time and you don’t either, not even bothering to pull down his boxers. you both put your hands to eachother at the same time, gasping into the kiss. eunseok pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. his mouth is still slightly open and so is yours, letting out long sighs as you guys slowly figure out what the other wants. eunseok teases your folds and you wrap your hands around his twitching dick. you both give one more look, this is your last chance to pull back from him. eunseok sticks a finger in you and you start slowly stroking him. eunseok looks away from you first, muttering a curse word as he puts his face in the crook of your neck. he presses his lips to your neck and suddenly you want him to leave a mark. 

you turn your head to face his as you pick up the speed of your hand. everything is rushed and you want to go as far as you can before the severity of the situation hits you. eunseok must feel the same way because he puts another finger inside of you. 

“you smell so good.” eunseok says.

he still stays in the crook of your neck and other hand has moved to your back. eunseok’s hand on your back alternates between moving up and down, pulling you closer to him, and grasping at your clothes like he can’t decide how he wants to hold you. you just let out a tiny sigh in response to him, scared to speak. if you say something it might snap eunseok out of whatever trance he’s in right now, and you are selfishly enjoying the way he bends his fingers inside of you.

“you’re so pretty.” eunseok says.

eunseok’s compliment was so quiet you truly don’t think you were meant to hear it. you convince yourself that he is just saying things in the heat of the moment. you don’t say anything back to eunseok, just pick up the pace of your hand. 

you can hear the table shake and slightly give underneath your weight. the creaking sound of the table mixes with the sloppy sounds of eunseok’s fingers inside of you and the wet sound of you jerking eunseok. his precum makes the job easy, you can feel it coming from his tip and lubricating his shaft. his dick is thick and heavy in your hand. you stop the intrusive thought of wondering what his dick looks like inside of his boxers. you wonder if his dick is as hot as the sounds he’s trying to muffle in your neck. you never took him for the whiny type, his sighs and quiet moans coming out in a higher pitch. eunseok pulls himself away from your neck to look down between the two of you.

eunseok is enthralled by the sight. he has never seen anyone like you, he’s never felt anything like this. he would’ve never thought he’d be here, trying to coax pretty little moans from your throat using his fingers. he wants to show you how good he is at this, but the situation and the way you look at him makes his hands unsteady. he’s positive he’s missing your clit and failing to hit those spots deep inside of you. he wishes he could take your pants off to really get inside of you and to see it all. but for now eunseok settles for fighting against the fabric of your wet panties pressed to the back of his hand as he fingers you. when you bring your head into his chest and pick up the pace he becomes more confident, doing the same action over and over again until your quiet moans become more frequent. eunseok can’t hold back his smile when your free hand grips the bicep of the hand that’s inside of you, digging nails into his skin.

“keep going.” you say breathlessly.

eunseok doesn’t falter and seeing you experience pleasure heightens his own. he can feel himself getting harder in your hand.

“i’m close.” eunseok says.

“me too. please don’t stop.” you whine into his chest.

eunseok brings you even closer to the edge of the table and you clench around him. you’re so close that you prepare yourself to bury your head into his sweater vest so your moans can’t be heard outside. 

“fuck. just like that.” eunseok says.

you keep up the pace of your hand. your nails dig deeper into eunseok’s skin. his hold on your lower back tighten.

you still have eunseok in your hand and he still has his fingers inside of you when the alarm on your phone goes off. the sudden blaring sound rips you both out of your reverie, and eunseok nearly jumps away from you.

you and eunseok stay like that for only a moment. something in the air of the storage room shifts almost immediately as you both start comprehending the situation. both of your eyes widen as you look up at him and he looks down at you.

eunseok suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and you take your hand out of his boxers. your shaking hands bring the zipper of your pants up, and you can hear eunseok fumble with his slacks as he brings them back up to his waist. he moves in such a rush that he stumbles backwards, bumping into the copy machine. in any other situation you would’ve been laughing at him for being so clumsy. but now you have a mission of getting out as soon as possible, your face heating up unbelievably fast.

when your pants are on you hop off the table and grab your phone to turn off the alarm. you see several messages and calls from people on the debate team asking where you are and congratulations on your win.

“i have to go now before lunch starts.” you say.

“yeah.” eunseok says.

“i’ll see you there.” you say after a long pause.

“yeah.” eunseok says.

neither of you look at the other as your faces get even hotter. eunseok messes with his belt over and over again. you dust off your pants and adjust your clothes a million times. the tension in the closest is thick, you think you may choke on it if you don’t leave soon. you focus on everything but eunseok. you’re sure you look disheveled but it is the least of your worries. you can pop into a bathroom before heading to lunch.

you leave eunseok in the storage closet alone without looking back. the whole way to the bathroom you are looking behind you, making sure no one saw you go in there. 

eunseok doesn’t leave the storage room for another five minutes after you leave. the moment you closed the door behind you eunseok crouched down the floor trying to. figure out what the hell just happened. he was still throbbing in his pants and his fingers smelled like your heat. he was so incredibly confused and out of breath he had to spend time to regain his bearings. he set up his phone to fix his mussed hair and ruffled slacks. he cleans up the storage room too, grabbing the supplies giselle had asked for.

eunseok for some reason expected you to be outside of the storage room waiting for him. he swallowed what felt like a lump in his throat as he started making his way towards the cafeteria.

you try to eat the sandwiches brought to you by the chaperones but you are too focused on what situation you were in not even ten minutes ago.  you could only manage to take a few bites before you realized you’re not hungry. you let the people at your table pick off of your food like vultures.

you don’t even dare to try and look at eunseok from across the room. after coming from the bathroom he was already there, he must have came straight there after leaving the storage room.

your hand is still sticky from him and every time you move you get the faintest smell of eunseok. you can feel his scent all over you, lingering and ominous like a storm cloud. you pray no one else can see how flustered you are.

after lunch is over the team still remains to get room assignments. you are so checked out mentally you don’t know what’s happening until you hear your group start protesting about the arrangement.

“why do they get their own rooms?” you hear eunchae ask.

“because they’re the captains and senior members of the team. also you guys signed up for these rooms.” the chaperone says.

you and eunseok are the only ones taking a solo room. something about an uneven number of boys and girls and it worked out in your favor. you need to be able to have a room to yourself so you can pace around and think about what happened in that storage room. you take your keycard and a spare just in case, sliding it in your wallet. everyone in your team floats to who their assigned with for tonight.

“we have few more debates for the day, but everyones schedule is clear for the independent events. let’s all support the three competing in that event.” you hear your sponsor say.

after eating, everyone in your teams throws away the trash and cleans the table, leaving the space cleaner than when you two arrived. you end up falling behind the rest of the group as they head towards the debate room. you’re double checking to make sure all the tables are clean and nothing was left behind when you see eunseok walking right towards you. you desperately try to look busy, wiping nonexistent crumbs off the tables. in your mind, if you don’t see eunseok he won’t see you. but he does see you, he always has. 

eunseok comes up to you and you have no choice but to look at him. you get shy, focusing on the button up of his debate uniform. you are counting all the buttons on his shirt over and over again when you feel him slide something in the back pocket of your pants. you look up ti him with wide eyes, and his demeanor is calm. 

“if you want to talk about what happened lights out is at 8:30. i’m in room 31.” eunseok says to you.

you don’t even get the chance to say anything to him. as soon as he’s done talking he’s gone, jogging to catch up with the rest of the debate team. you stand at the table frozen solid. when you reach to your back pocket you can feel the undeniable shape and feel of a plastic keycard.

it was going to be a long night.

#requestz #01zfan: eunseok #seriez: argue with you #riize smut #eunseok smut

[beartes22]

Jason Todd Imcorrect quotes (2/??)

Continuation of this post . Probably 2/2 until like, the next four years or sth

Angsty quotes I probably will add in some fic somewhen. They are also for adoption, they have no home yet. I am just very salty about this.

Bruce: we don’t kill, Jason!

Jason: why? Why can’t we? Why is this your line in the sand when there is no other fucking line you won’t cross!

Bruce: because if we do it we will be just as bad as them!

Jason: Bruce you sanctimonious fuck, I don’t want to be better! I just want to be safe!

Dick: why can’t you understand? We don’t kill! we can’t be judge, jury and executioner!

Jason: why not? We certainly don’t have judges or juries here!

Dick: just because the system is corrupt-

Jason: when I was murdered, where was my judgment? When did the judge pass the sentence, when did the jury declare him innocent? When was the dead penalty discarded?

Dick: …you know why Jason Todd could not have a public judgement

Jason: then what was it, was it private and you decided to leave my death unpunished or is he awaiting my judgement?

Dick: oh little wing-

Jason: my anger and my rage are not unjustified. They are just inconvenient for Batman’s crusade. Fuck you and your righteous fucking convenience.

Tim: you don’t understand! Bruce was broken after you died and Batman needs a robin!

Jason: I did not die. I was murdered.

Tim: I know. Bruce never got over failing to save you

Jason: why is his grief more important than my pain? Why must his needs overcome mine?

Tim: …he’s Batman

Jason: I see. so he’s not replaceable. But his robins aparently are.

Tim: no! That’s not-

Jason: better tread carefully then, replacement.

Bruce: you killed a man. You broke my rules!

Jason: and I will do it again. What will you do about it, then, big man, throw me to your justice?

Bruce: I will take you in like the rest of the criminals in this city

Jason: it will not stick. Thanks to your methods, I am a dead boy that doesn’t exist. I cannot be thrown in jail.

Bruce: you think I can’t put you under a fake Id?

Jason: you will go the extra mile to hurt me, but not for those that hurt me. Father of the year.

Now the less angsty ones. To break off with a laugh or sth

Goon 1: boss, we have a problem.

Red hood: *sighs deeply* what is it now, Fred?

Goon 1: …you know my name? There has been…a confusion in one of the orders, boss

Red hood: oh?

Goon 2: it appears someone mislabeled the… um, SEAL-quality equipment for-

*LOUD BRAYING CAN BE HEARD*

red hood: …how many live seals are in Gotham right now, Ricky

Goon 2: that;s um. a lot. Sir.

Goon 1: I think over twenty, boss

Red hood: and what am I supposed to do with 20 fucking seals?

Goon 2: I-i think they are actually an endangered species? So, so maybe you can, like, open a-

Red hood: no. No. I refuse. No. I will not end up my crime lord days to build an animal reserve. No.

Goon 1: we could also kill them sir. Their fur is expensive and crime alley could always stand to have more food

Red hood: we are not doing that.

Goon 2: I mean, we have done worse things for less money boss

Red hood: you want your ankles to be bitten to death by an angry toddler? Because this is how you get an angry toddler bit your ankles to death with his swords. Two of them.

Goon 1: is…is that a new rogue, boss?

Red hood: worse. Excuse me I gotta make a call

Red hood, on the phone: hey, baby demon, I got sth for you- what no, it’s not from Talía- shut up I do nice things for you on my own- oh fuck you habibi -you would be the bigger disappointment but you aren’t tall enough -oh? Did the baby get angry? Did the baby want a time out?- wait no, don’t pass the phone you co- yes. Hi B. No. Fuck you. No. Asshole. I’m hanging up.

The goons: …

Red hood: *picks up phone yet again* dickhead if you hang on me I swear to god I will haunt you-oh, sorry. Is dick there? Pass him the phone, please, it’s important. *a beat* dick, why did that random man pick up your phone- midnighter? And I thought I had the daddy issues. No wait! I have over 20 seals and I have to get rid of them- stop laughing you asshole!! *hangs up furiously*

Red hood: *turns to the goons* tomorrow the someone will come to pick up the seals. Probably an Atlantean. ETA 8 PM. Be ready or else *leaves*

Goons: …

Goon 1: I thought I knew how phone calls worked but apparently I don’t.

Goon 2: …me neither.

#jason todd #dc batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #incorrect quotes

[maddymoreau]

Why Mr. House pays more for the Snow Globes than the Platinum Chip:

I see a lot of jokes online and people confused about why Mr. House pays more for a Snow Globes than the retrieval of the Platinum Chip.

Especially with how important the Chip is and how he's been waiting 204 years for it.

(ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ I'm going to ramble an explanation on Mr. House's character and why he does this.

Starting from the beginning.

One of Mr. House's biggest character quirks is that he's a MASSIVE stickler for contracts.

In the contract Courier Six signed it says they'll be paid: "Bonus on completion: 250 caps." Which doesn't sound like a lot until you remember this delivery is supposed to be VERY discreet.

Courier Six: "If the Chip's so valuable, why use a single courier to transport it?"

Mr. House: "You realize you were just one of many couriers, the rest of them dummies, so to speak?"

Mr. House: "Add to that many thousand of caps worth of mercenary protection to screen your avenue of approach."

I know Courier Six still got shot by Benny but Mr. House tried to ensure their travel would be safe.

Mr. House: "Had I used an armed caravan to transport the Chip, I might as well have been announcing to the world "this is important. Attack this!" I didn't want to attract the attention of groups like the Great Khans or the Brotherhood of Steel. Alas, the real threat was closer to home."

You might be thinking well that explains the initial delivery price but why doesn't Mr. House increase it after Benny takes it?

The answer is Courier Six's contact.

Inside the Lucky 38 Mr. House will say.

Mr. House: "My only concern is the recovery of the Platinum Chip. What happens to Benny, I leave to your discretion. When you bring the Chip to me, I will pay you four times the delivery bonus stipulated in your contract. How's that?

Mr. House: “My offer far exceeds the original terms of your contract, which, I will remind you, already obligate you to deliver the Chip.”

While 1,000 caps is small and nothing to Mr. House. It’s important to consider he’s not wrong.

It’s a 400% increase from your original pay.

Something he feels is generous because you're already contractually obligating to deliver the Chip.

The Contract states: "You are an authorized agent of the Mojave Express Package until delivery is complete and payment has been processed, contractually obligated to complete this transaction and materially responsible for any malfeasance or loss."

(҂ ` ﾛ ´)凸 Screw my contract!! I got shot in the head!!! You might be thinking.

The Contract's Penalties mention: “Failure to deliver the proper recipient may result in forfeiture of your advance and bonus, criminal charges, and/or pursuit by mercenary reclamation teams.”

Even if you ignore your contact Mr. House won't.

Mr. House: "No, you haven't. This is the second time you've promised to deliver the Platinum Chip. Even if you don't hold yourself to your promises, I will."

When giving the bonus Mr. House is attempting to incentivize the player.

If Courier Six has a Barter 50 Skill they can counter:

"It's a good start . . . but well below market price."

Mr House: "Very well, five times the bonus. {with finality} Not one cap more."

Even after bartering this amount is still well below the market price (remember this for later).

If the player fails the barter.

Mr. House: "Is that an attempt at. . . {beat} {distaste} humor?" I've always taken business negotiation seriously. I advise you to do the same."

If you try to renegotiate after retrieving the Platinum Chip from Benny he'll say.

Mr. House: "Our terms were clear. Now that you have the Chip in your possession, any attempt to "re-negotiate" payment would be tantamount to blackmail."

If you still refuse but eventually cave he'll respond.

Mr. House: "You're fortunate that I have a certain {beat} tolerance for greed. I expect my business partners to be self-interested but {unlike you} smartly so."

If you take the negotiations seriously like Mr. House he will increase you bonus pay within reason.

He's not going to raise is to a 10,000 caps since that’d be a 4,000% mark up. Even just raising it to match the price of one Snow Globes would be 800%.

(ㆆ_ㆆ) You still might be thinking . . .

WHY CARE ABOUT THE CONTRACT!??!? THE CHIP IS WORTH MORE THEN A 4,000% PAY INCREASE!!!! IT'S IRREPLACEABLE SO WHY DOESN'T HE JUST COUGH UP THE MONEY!!?!??

This line perfectly explains Mr. House’s mindset.

Mr. House: "You have a contract to fulfill, a delivery to make. If you can't hold to a contract, simply for the ethic of holding to a contract, you're worthless to me."

Mr. House is TESTING YOU!!!!!

He's ALWAYS testing you to see if you're the perfect replacement for the job he originally planned for Benny to have.

Mr. House: "To achieve my aims, I require a capable human agent to perform certain... {choosing word} tasks."

If Courier Six can't stick to their word and fulfill a contract they signed in good faith. Even if that contact is less beneficial to them. Even if the bonus pay is well below market price.

Then they're not someone Mr. House wants to work with.

This post goes into more example of him testing you:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/741007168343588864/veronicaroyce-it-always-bothered-me-that-mr?source=share

That's why the maximum offer Mr. House is willing to negotiate for the retrieval of the Chip is 1,250 caps.

After all if you succeed and work for him the rewards will be immense.

Mr. House: "I'm not offering you an incentive as crude as money - though there'll be plenty of that. What I'm offering you is a ground-floor opportunity in the most important enterprise on Earth. What I'm offering is a future - for you, and for what remains of the human race."

As for the Snow Globes they're a luxury item Mr. House is offering a base price of 2,000 caps for.

There's no contract, no test and no negotiating the price. Only seven exist within the base of the game. The other four are outside the Mojave in dangerous locations like the Sierra Madre and Big MT.

٩( ^ᗜ^)و ´- Mr. House simply likes them and is willing to pay you a high price for a rare item.

#Don't get me wrong Mr. House SUCKSSSS (I love him) but he has a reason for what he's doing. #Fallout New Vegas #FNV #Mr. House #Robert House #MaddyMoreauPost #Fallout

[dotster001]

How You met/Enemies to Lovers Rook Edition

Summary: Rook xgn! Reader. Rook knows better than to think you like him, so he'll just try a new tactic. Part of mini series requested by @stygianoir

A/N: I low key feel like I peaked for the Crowley edition in this series, because these last three are really hard to write. I'm not sure if I like this one yet 😂 hopefully my points got across. Also, there is a poem in here, and I'm not good at poetry, so we aren't gonna talk about it.

Other versions- Idia Crowley Malleus Vil Crewel Lilia Leona

Rook knew he could be a lot. 

But he liked to ignore that fact because it got in his way. He had found you beautiful and fascinating before, when you had helped manage the NRC team at the SDC. You were, as Jamil had described you to him when he'd asked, a diamond in the rough. You lacked magic, but made up for it with your strength, grace, and dignity. 

You had effortlessly stood against his Roi du Poison, gazing into the face of danger as though death wasn't awaiting you if things went wrong. And thus, you'd cemented yourself into this poor hunter's heart. 

But he had fallen victim to his own pride. He always thought he was able to learn everything about everyone. He was wrong, and now he was paying the penalty.

He had found out from Chevalier des Roses over conversation during science club that you were an alien. He had lived in the same house as an alien, and had failed to properly observe and research it. His heart had immediately shattered itself in two.

From there on out, he always kept you in his sights. He would be remiss if he missed the opportunity a second time. 

At first it had frightened you, him always being there, observing your every move. Once he had explained himself, at first you seemed like you would try to understand, and had even offered to answer any of his questions over a meal.

But when he continued to "research you" after that meal, you were annoyed. He knew you were annoyed. And your rage was beautiful.

Soon he was doing everything he could to see that annoyed expression on your face. Once you'd grown numb to research practices, he had come up with new tests. Slipping ingredients in your food to see if you had a reaction to them. (Spicy food made you overheat, but that was normal, so the experiment was discontinued) Stealing your notebook to see if there were any language differences. (You wrote in the same language, with mildly different slang, but your doodles were really cute)  Poking you to see if you had the same reflexes. (You did, your sides were slightly ticklish though, which was a fact he decided to file away for later)

To all of his new tests, you reacted with that annoyed expression he found so beautiful, and it made his heart flutter. Until he saw you marveling at a small woodland animal.

He came up to you, and you whispered, "we don't have this where I come from. It's beautiful."

You looked at it in awe and devotion, and dare he say, love? He wondered if this was the look he had when he found a new object for his affections. 

   Rook found this look much more beautiful. He wanted to see it again. This called for a change of tactics.

Now, his "following you for research purposes" had ended. (It hadn't, he just made sure you couldn't see him.) Now, his "experiments" were of a much softer variety. Now he wasn't "collecting evidence from you" anymore. (He was, you just didn't notice) Rook had taken a complete 180.

"For you, Mon Trickster," he gently handed you a flower, observing your expression very carefully. You twisted the flower in your fingers, and…ah, there's that expression. Awe.

"What kind of flower is this?" You asked. "We don't have this one where I'm from."

"Non? It is called Hildeflora, named and bred for the fairest queen. It is of the lilac family, and very poisonous." Startled, you moved to push it back at him.  He laughed boisterously, refusing to take it. " Oh, ma fleur, it will not hurt you. It is only poisonous in the hands of a master alchemist."

You seemed relieved, thanked him for the flower, then proceeded on your way. It was only fair, he thought to himself. If he was to learn all about your world, you should learn of his.

And this was his new tactic. He would softly tell you the wonders of his world, and relish in your pure delight. He assured himself that if he could gauge your reactions, he could learn what was new to you, and therefore not a part of your world. 

He spent months doing this, feeling immense joy every time you would eat up his words. Your curiosity was only matched by his own. Eventually, you seemed to forget all about your earlier annoyance with him, much to his delight, although he found it funny that a prey as helpless as you would so quickly forget their hunter. You began to seek him out. You began to ask him questions. You began to silently watch his actions, giggling as you came to understand his eccentricities. And he was ecstatic!

He knew he loved you. He knew for a long time. He was just waiting for the moment to tell you. And that moment had arrived. He composed you a poem.

From the moment I beheld your glow

One as weak to the wiles of love as I was destined to fall

Undying devotion will be mine to bestow

Regret not your love for I will take it all

When at night I rest without holding you close, I shudder in despair

Only your eyes gazing into mine, could bring me reprieve 

Only your warmth and your hands brushing through my hair

Deny me sustenance, deny me air, but no longer my side leave

Solely you can free me from my curse, ma fleur.

He slipped it in your notebook where he knew you would find it. He then walked to the woods and awaited you. At four you came running to him, filling his heart with light.

"Rook, I…."

"Hush, there is something I would like to show you."

Yes, he had spilled his feelings to you in his poem, but Rook was nothing if not a performer. He placed a finger to his lips, and led you deeper and deeper into the forest. By the time you both had reached the destination, the sun had fallen, and darkness surrounded you.  

He watched you take in your surroundings.you were both standing at the edge of a small pond. I was totally silent except for the occasional bubbles popping in the water. You turned to him, as though to ask where you were, but, almost as though he had planned it,  the water began to shimmer and glow blue, bathing both of you in an ethereal glow. Your gaze now full on the pond you watched as three nymphs rose from the depths, and danced together on the water's surface, moving with grace and elegance that you'd never see in a human.

While your eyes were fixed on the display before you, Rooks eyes were fixed on you. Watching your delight at the new scene. He walked up behind you, and gently placed his hands on the sides of your shoulders, before leaning in and whispering, "I want to share all the wonders this world has to offer with you. I want to see your eyes light up when we share the beauty together. I want to be there to experience your joy."

You numbly nodded, as you both watched the nymphs finish their dance and return below the pond's surface, the only light left being the moon and stars. You turned to Rook, and looked at him with the love and affection he had worked so hard to get from you

He smiled, then gently took your hand, before kneeling and placing a soft kiss to the back of it.

 "J'taime."

He pulled your hand to his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. "Will you accept this poor hunter's confession? This heart beats for the beauty of this world, but beats the most ardently for you."

You looked more in awe at him than you had for any of his experiments on you. He saw your eyes planning adventures with him, planning a life with him. And yet when the words left your mouth…

"Rook, if you'll have me, I'd be honored to have you as my hunter."

His heart fluttered more than it ever had before, and he found himself pulling you down to the ground with him, locking you in his embrace, and caressing you with his kiss. And it was that moment when the hunter realized he had been the prey all along.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #twisted wonderland rook #rook x reader

[keineahnung-ichhalt]

Tatort Saarbrücken/Ace Attorney parallels

To celebrate less than two weeks until FdG airs, I finally took the time to proofread this text about parallels between Ace Attorney and Tatort Saarbrücken that I wrote almost a year ago and then somehow forgot to post. Enjoy!

I have recently noticed that there are a lot of parallels between the relationship between Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright, and the story of Adam Schürk and Leo Hölzer, so I decided to write them down. I have no idea if there is any overlap between these fandoms at all, so probably no one else will care about this but whatever. This should go without saying, but this has spoilers for the first Ace Attorney game, and the first three episodes of Tatort Saarbrücken. I’m also aware that all of these overlaps are most likely a coincidence, but I wanted to compile them anyway, because I thought that it was really interesting, and maybe someone else will think so, too.

You may ask: Who are these people? I will try to summarise their stories first, and I will go into more detail later:

Let’s start with Phoenix and Miles: They were in the same class when they were nine years old and became friends after Phoenix was accused of stealing someone’s lunch money, when Miles was the first one (and together with Larry the only one) to stand up for him and defended him in the subsequent class trial. A few months after that, Miles’ father Gregory, a defense attorney, is murdered and Miles vanishes (he is adopted by Manfred von Karma and presumably moved to Germany, but Phoenix doesn’t know that). Years later, Phoenix reads a newspaper article about Miles becoming a prosecutor, and he decides to become a defense attorney to meet him and find out what happened to him.

They meet again when Miles prosecutes Phoenix’s second case as a defense attorney after not having seen each other for 15 years. After working two cases together, Miles is arrested as a murder suspect, and Phoenix defends him in court, even though no one else wants to defend him and he is almost the only one who is on his side. In this trial, he finds out that Manfred von Karma, the prosecutor in the current case, murdered Miles’ father 15 years ago after he got a penalty because of him. Then, he decided to adopt and mentor Miles, only to frame him for murder 15 years later as an elaborate revenge on Miles’ father. By uncovering this, Phoenix saves Miles from being convicted for murder.

Now to Adam and Leo: They became friends after Adam defended Leo from bullies at school. Adam’s father was physically abusive towards him and beat him regularly. One day, he catches Adam and Leo hanging out together and beats Adam up so badly that Leo thinks that he’s going to kill him, and decides to step in by hitting him on the head with a spade. Adam’s father falls into a coma, and Leo and Adam burn the garage to hide the crime. A few months after that, Adam vanishes, apparently leaving Leo to think that he has died.

Later, they both become police officers, Adam in Berlin and Leo in Saarbrücken. Adam returns to Saarbrücken, and they reunite after 15 years. After they worked on two cases together, Adam is arrested because he is suspected of murdering his father. Leo works hard to investigate his case, even though he technically isn’t allowed to, with their colleagues refusing to help him at one point and maybe even believe that Adam really is guilty. In the end, Leo manages to prove that Adam’s father killed himself and disguised his suicide as a murder to take revenge on Adam and Leo for putting him into a coma 15 years ago.

Sounds familiar? Here are all of the parallels and overlaps between those two stories that I can think of, maybe there are even more that I didn’t catch:

They met and became friends in school. Both pairs only became friends after one defended the other from bullies.

Shortly after something happens to his father, one of them disappears suddenly. Incidentally, in both cases, the one who disappears is the one who saved the other one from bullies.

Adam and Miles disappear after something happens to their father; Adams father falls in a coma, and Miles’ father is murdered

They both reappear after 15 years, during which the other one didn’t know anything about their whereabouts (Phoenix knew that Miles had become a prosecutor, but only a few years before they meet again).

Phoenix and Adam both altered their careers to see the other again; Phoenix starts studying to be a defense attorney after he learnt that Miles became a prosecutor s that they could meet again in the courtroom, and Adam accepted a transfer request back to Saarbrücken.

Both pairs meet again in their workplace, though Adam and Leo work together now, whereas Phoenix and Miles stand on opposite sides of the courtroom.

Not long after they reappear, both Adam and Miles are framed for murder by their abusive father.

The other one fights for them, even though they are (almost) the only person on their side, and everyone else is against them.

Both Adam’s father and Manfred von Karma have committed crimes in the past and framed someone else for it: Manfred killed Miles’ father and both framed the bailiff for it and manipulated Miles to blame himself; Adam’s father robbed banks with a friend, and one of them shot someone in one of these robberies. Said friend took the blame for both the robbing and the shooting, and never revealed the identity of his accomplice to the police.

Tatort Saarbrücken episode 3 is literally Turnabout Goodbyes, the fourth case in the first Ace Attorney game. Miles and Adam are both framed for murder by their father figure as revenge for something that happened in the past. Their respective partner takes their side and fights for them, ultimately revealing their innocence.

They are also both happen after they worked together for two cases.

Again, do I think any of this matters? No, but I realised that these parallels exist and had to get this out of my system. And I had fun writing this. If you notice even more parallels, please share them!

#I wrote most of this at like 3 am and that probably explains why I even wrote this in the first place #also the overlap between these fandoms is probably like ten people max #and half of them are place attorney members whom I forced to watch spatort in vc #tatort saarbrücken #ace attorney #spatort #my meta stuff #op keineahnung-ichhalt #narumitsu #hörk

[agentmarcuspike]

"i crawl home to her"

“And I was burning up a fever, I didn’t care much how long I lived. But I swear I thought I dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong I did."

synopsis: after being stabbed, joel floats in and out of consciousness, between then and now, before and after, and his two daughters, both saving him in their own ways.

cw: time jumps, descriptions of pain and injury, grief w/c: 1.3k

playlist 🎶 moodboard 🖼️

When Sarah was little and cried because she’d scraped her knee, Joel always wanted to cry too. He couldn’t of course, and he didn’t; he shushed her gently, telling her she’d be okay, however big or small the hurt was, while trying to absorb her pain through his fingertips, carefully brushing her brown curls away from her face.

But while her face contorted in the most pain her little body had experienced in the short duration of her life, he couldn’t help but shamefully feel like he had failed her. He could have been quicker, caught her, told her to be careful yet again. Every time he’d put a bandaid on, kiss it better, and she would quickly move on, and every time he’d file the accident into his mental folder of reasons why he was a bad parent. 

But then she’d smile up at him, amber eyes full of awe, and he’d forget all about it.

One time on Sarah’s birthday, she must have been three or four, she had insisted on blowing out her birthday candles by herself. She got two on her first blow, but on her second puff of air, she leaned too far over the flame, and Joel’s hand instinctively reached out to shield between his daughter and the fire. He burned his hand, but didn’t pull back until his other hand had moved her out of the way. 

Joel softly whines as the memory is replaced by a similar burning, this time in the form of a sting in his midriff. He can feel someone scuffle next to him, he thinks it might be his daughter, but his eyelids refuse to open. All he wants is to look at her. The feeling of not knowing what’s going on, the urge to be in control, of knowing his kid is safe, builds in him, and he fights with his body to open his eyes. 

Through a squint, he can see she’s kneeling next to him, pulling at a thread going down into his stomach. He tries sitting up to look at what she's doing, even though the unmistakable agony of a needle piercing through his skin over and over speaks for itself, but engaging the muscles in his abdomen sends a wave of nausea through his body, and he groans, lying back down, as the pain whisks reality away from him again. 

Sarah was 10 when she decided to take up soccer. Both Joel and Tommy had tried talking her out of it, seeing as it was no less than the fourth hobby she’d wanted to try out that semester, but like always, she didn’t take no for an answer. 

So soccer it was.

Joel would take her out in the back garden to practice. They would mostly shoot penalty kicks at each other, and Sarah quickly decided she didn’t like being goalie, so Joel would stand in front of the make-shift goal he’d built for them using left-over plank from a job, while Sarah shot the ball at him. 

In the beginning, he would let her score every now and then, just to boost her confidence. But after a couple of weeks he found his body tender and sore from devotedly throwing himself to the ground over and over again to keep her focused kicks from landing the ball right in the net every time. She was getting really good.

Sometimes Tommy would join their little matches. Unlike his older brother, Tommy had actually played in his youth. Joel remembered going to his games growing up, feeling both pride and jealousy at the crowd of parents and other on-lookers cheering his name as he celebrated goal after goal out on the green. 

On a particularly sunny Saturday, the three of them were outside kicking the ball around as usual. Tommy and Sarah were both aggressive on the pitch, the uncle in general less careful than the dad, dribbling around his niece, playing dirty, shoving her to the ground. Sarah would laugh and get right back up, while Joel would sigh at the thought of getting the grass stains out of her brand new light wash jeans. 

In a moment of Joel’s distraction, while he looked towards the house trying to remember whether they were out of laundry detergent, Sarah decided to boot it, landing the ball directly into the side of Joel’s face. Between the ringing in his ears subsiding and the pain in his head increasing, he found himself pretty impressed with, and slightly proud of, the power in his daughter’s kick.

23 years later and his ears are still ringing; a sound he briefly revisited immediately after deciding his life without her was a worthless one. It might as well be three seconds later the way his head is aching, pounding, throbbing with pain. Just moving his eyes hurts, but he can take it, and looks around.

He’s on the floor in the middle of a room, a staircase in one end. No windows. Basement. There’s not much else to see from his position, and trying to sit up isn’t even worth a try. He feels paralyzed, and wiggles his fingers and toes to check.

There’s no Ellie. Which is good, a voice in his head chimes in. Ellie shouldn’t be here. She should be in Jackson, with Tommy. He finds consolation in the fact that he can’t see the rifle anywhere. Consolation, but also disappointment. If she hadn’t needed it for protection, it might have been of better use to him, he thinks, gravelly revisiting the day after his 36th birthday. 

A wave of strange relief washes over him as he realizes her life is not in his hands anymore. Relief and disappointment. But Ellie’s a smart kid, he calls to mind, as the comfortable numbness of unconsciousness overpowers him again, and he falls back into reverie. 

She’s a smart kid. 

Sarah was always a smart kid. 

From the second she was born he knew. She was a late talker, but an early walker, and she didn’t have any issue communicating to the people around her what she wanted without the use of her words. She was a smart kid, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t sometimes let her heart be louder than her head.

Before soccer there was horse riding. And before horse riding there was drawing. But before she could even hold a pencil, there was swimming. Sarah swam until her lips turned blue, refusing to come up even though she was freezing. After hours in the pool, in the ocean, in the pond, Joel would have to wade out to get her, her little body clinging to his, smiling through clattering teeth. He’d wrap her up in a towel, and rub her back to get her warm, while she’d rest her head on his shoulder, exhausted but happy. 

When Joel comes to, he's wet and clammy all over, a tinge of salt from sweat or blood on his lips, but he’s no longer alone. His daughter is there, still resting on his shoulder, just like before. It’s still twenty years ago, and everything is fine. His inner soliloquy tells him this is it, this is the moment, this instant is all he has, all he ever has had and ever will have. His daughter, safe, in his arms. At the end of the day, his suitcase with memories of her may not show up at baggage claim, but the allegory isn’t even relevant anymore. Planes haven’t flown for decades. 

A jet plane couldn’t have woken Joel up thirty years ago, and when his daughter was born he had to force himself away from being a deep sleeper. Sarah would still have to wake him even though his alarm had been blaring for ten minutes. “Dad, wake up!” she would shout at his bedroom door. And at the sound of her voice, he would jolt awake. He can hear it now. “Dad, wake up! Wake up! Joel! Wake up!”

It’s not Sarah. But it is his daughter. And her voice pulls him in.

“Joel, wake up!” 

She pushes a blade into his hands, alarm in her voice. And while he can only catch every other word of her warning, he gets the gist of it. 

Danger.

He grips the knife. It’s time to come back. His kid needs him.

a/n: i love pain. hope you like flowery language, cause i do. don't know what the market for father daughter angst is like atm, but i will always be a whore for woe, so you better eat up. thanks for reading xx

#tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #sarah miller #ellie williams #joellie #joel and ellie #tlou angst #the last of us fanfiction #my writing

[wisemins]

📖 - what is your s/i's backstory? how does it make them meet your f/o(s)?

For Haymitch!!!

OHHHH YOU ARE TOO KIND IM SO HYPED FOR THIS ONEEE THANK YOUU!!! 📖 - what is your s/i's backstory? how does it make them meet your f/o(s)? Ah, brilliant question. LOVE THIS ONEEE!! This is gonna be SO LONG I apologize.

(Keep in mind, the ages and timeline is a bit fucky cus i can't do math LFKJISAUHD) So, I was originally from district 5, born and raised, but at around 18 years old I decided to defect from 5 to try and attempt to get away from Panem as a whole by myself. It was a long, long journey but eventually I got caught in district 12. Before getting my shit kicked in, a family of strangers attempted saved me, pleading that they have a less strict punishment. Especially the son of that family, who was trying everything to reason with them and to beg them not to. That they would take me in and have me work for the rest of my days. Because, I mean, who would willingly want to live in district 12? So, the peacekeepers take it to the higher ups, the higher ups take it even higher up, and in a very suspicious turn of events they allow it. Cue it being weeks later, I get to know the boy who saved me was named Aims (introducing my hunger games OC and bestie whomst I love very much!! He's also very important to my lore.) He was very kind to me, and incredibly smart. His family was very kind as well, and took me in with open and welcoming arms. I got very close with Aims very quickly, and we spent most of our time together.

Then came the day of the reaping. As it turns out, my getting away wasn't allowed. My final year of being eligible to be in the games, as well as Aims', turned out to be the year where our fate would be tested and changed forever. The penalty for our actions granted us express shipping to the Hunger Games, as we were both selected and publicly humiliated for the reason being we broke the law and defied peacekeepers, and by extension, The Capitol.

So, without getting into the meat of it, let's just say Aims and I were both within the final selection of tributes in our games, and something happened that forced Aims to take a hit for me and both him and the other tribute had hit the force fields, both ending up, well, very much not alive (or so we thought OoOooOOo that's for another time!!). So, I end up the crowned victor, very depressed and now alone, and get to move into the victors' village. There was only one other person there, a person who had previously won the games, and that was Haymitch!

At first, we barely spoke and all I ever saw him do was go out to get more alcohol. A few months into being there, he did come to "welcome" me, and that included a very awkward first encounter because he was definitely not sober and I did not want to have some sort of accident happen in my house. But, eventually I would go over and bring him warm food, or y'know, WATER to drink. I started to take care of him more and more, help him clean up, try to talk to him and have him open up. We got really close in that time, and we both became mentors for District 12. It was a lot though, having all of our tributes just continue to not make it. We both struggle with severe mental illnesses, but we continued to help each other and take care of each other. I gave Haymitch a reason, even if it was a small one. He made sure I would eat when I didn't want to, and I would make sure he made it to bed when the floor looked like a better place to be.

Within a few years, it was obvious we were both romantically interested in each other, but we were both self-hating assholes who didn't want to make the first move. We did everything a couple did, but refused to call it anything because that would mean we would have someone to lose again, but It wasn't until Katniss and Peeta were selected that things started to get so dangerous in their first games, and Haymitch began to sober up completely (in my mind at least, I know he only sobered up at around Mockingjay/when training for Catching Fire, but I won't let that man drown if I have anything to say about it!), that he had a clearer vision of what he wanted. So he made it official, I was his girlfriend, he was my boyfriend. The first I love you's were said as well, and his "sweethearts" held all of that emotion he had held back now. The transition in title was a lot to handle despite us literally being together and a couple for all those years, but it was accepting it that was the hard part. Everyone around us was very frustrated to know the state of our relationship before we called it like it was, and it was a whole thing of "how can we get them to just stfu and be together". But now we've been a happy couple for...I wanna say over a year now, maybe two! So that's how we met! Sorry it got so long! OFIJHUAD

I'll always be willing to infodump about my lore with Haymitch and my place in that canon ALWAYSSSS I LOVE IT HEREEE

#❤️: Know it’s for the better #❤️: Your thoughts are many miles away #starshine rambles #starshine asks

[jimblejamblewritings]

snakes & bets | part 7.

Summary: Social outcast suddenly makes friends? And those friends are Hogwarts’ most notorious pranksters? Despite being entirely suspicious, Y/N doesn’t question any motives. The world can’t possibly come crashing down around her…

Warnings: This whole story is angsty, hurt/comfort, smut, will end in fluff but goes through all the other stuff first.

Pairing: Marauders x black!reader, eventual Sirius Black x black!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

Professor McGonagall was seriously contemplating telling students that they could no longer knock on her door. Whoever it was kept knocking incessantly, refusing to go away. She didn’t want to hear anymore questions about if Voldemort’s reign was over. The Daily Prophet had dropped off the papers earlier that morning. It was all over the front page. Young upstart Auror, Alastor Moody, helped capture Voldemort and bring him to the Ministry of Magic.

McGonagall didn’t want to entertain her students who were wondering if this was truly the end. She didn’t want to speculate sentences about You-Know-Who. Death penalty or forever in Azkaban, she didn’t care and would rather enjoy her free time in peace. The old woman finally gave in and got up to open the door. She raised an eyebrow at seeing Sirius at her door.

“She hates me.”

McGonagall sighed. “She doesn’t hate you, she’s afraid you’re making a joke of her again. Quite frankly, I can’t blame her for thinking such a thing.”

“I’m not. I swear, I’m not. I love her.”

“Mr. Bla—”

“I mean it.”

“Sirius,” McGonagall said, quickly. “I know. I’ve seen a black dog following her around.”

“Professor, please help me.”

McGonagall found herself taking tea with two students twice a week. She had her normal tea with you. Then on a different day, she would Sirius and maybe one of the other marauders as they came up with a plan. You actively ignored them now. They couldn’t even give you a wave. Remus tried to thank you for the wolfsbane potion but you said that you weren’t interested in talking to him before he could even get out a word.

Sirius even waited half a day in the bathroom that Myrtle usually stayed in, hoping that you would come in. You never showed that day. He ended up talking to your aunt who had a few choice words for him. Myrtle told him the same thing that McGonagall did: Don’t be surprised if you’re too late.

Sirius was well aware of the fact that he might have missed his chance with you. But he couldn’t stop trying. Not until he said everything that he had to say. If you didn’t want him afterwards then he would leave you alone. But he had to tell you how he felt and he had to do it correctly. Sirius stopped listening to other people. Every idea failed and you didn’t like talking to anyone. He wasn’t using the girls, or his friends, or even McGonagall. He was just going to do it his way.

“Ow, fuck.” Sirius sucked on his fingers.

This was the fourth time he had pricked himself with the needle. You made embroidery look so easy but it took him just an hour alone to get the hoop correctly on the green sweatshirt that he bought. He tried to crochet you a skirt at first because it seemed the easiest. However, the pile of yarn that was shoved under his bed quickly proved him wrong. He looked up when the door to his dorm opened.

“Wormtail, does this look alright?”

“Decent.”

“Decent?”

“It’s not as good as (Y/N)’s if that’s what you’re asking. It looks fine, Pads.”

Sirius examined his work in the embroidery hoop. He nodded to himself. It was decent. However, it wasn’t quick. He thought he would be done before the end of February and before another Moony Night. Maybe if he had just done your name and a rabbit in the silver thread, he might have been done early. But, Sirius wanted to add little flowers on the sleeves and around the collar. He tried to mimic the style that you embroidered most of your clothes in. Finally, a few days into March, Sirius held up the sweatshirt in satisfaction.

“Prongs, I need your help.”

Remus and Peter insisted on taking a picture after James managed to get Sirius in his sweatshirt that you made for him. It took a while to get his front paws through the sleeves. James scratched behind his friend’s ear.

“Don’t you look adorable.”

Sirius growled, not that the other three cared. He picked up his gift in his mouth and started to leave, looking back at Remus when he realized that he needed one of them to open the door for him. With one more howl of laughter, his friends let him leave.

The weather was no longer freezing so you were outside underneath your favorite tree. The gnomes were back. They were laying flowers in your hair and trading their old hats for new ones. They were also swiping bread from your basket but that was to be expected. The last of the gnomes put on their new hat and ran off.

You looked over to see if they left any bread in your basket so you could have a piece. As your head turned to the side, you saw a large black dog in a red sweatshirt bounding over to you with something in its mouth. Shaking your head, you got up to leave before Sirius could reach you.

He ran faster. Thanks to the whole four legs being faster than one thing, Sirius overtook your pace and stopped in front of you. He quickly turned back into human form, dropping the sweatshirt from his mouth before he got drool on it.

“(Y/N).”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you said as you began to turn around to leave.

“Please! One talk. One conversation.”  

“Please just leave me alone, Sirius. I’ve already cried my eyes out over you in the past, I’m not doing it again. And I don’t want to be the punchline anymore. It wasn’t funny the first time and it isn’t funny now.”

“It’s not a joke.” Sirius grabbed your hand. “That list was worse than a bad prank, I know that.”

“Yeah, it was. I just wanted friends.”

He could hear the desperation in your voice.

“I know, Bunny, I know. I’m sorry, I’m genuinely sorry. We should have never done that to you.”

“Apology acknowledged.”

Sirius gave you a smile. He started unfolding the sweatshirt. “I got th—”

“Sirius.”

“Yes?” He stopped what he was doing.

“I acknowledge your apology, that’s it. I don’t accept it.”

The green fabric dropped from his hand. “What?”

“I don’t know if you’re lying to me. I meant what I said, you all aren’t allowed to make a joke out of me anymore. I’m done being a punchline.”

“(Y/N)—”

“I’ll ask the professors about ending detention, I know that all of you are cleaning the school. Thanks again for the apology, I appreciate it. That was all I wanted from at least one person.”

You left Sirius dumbfounded as he watched you walk away. This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t lose you like this. Sirius gave out a dry laugh as he picked up the sweatshirt. He never even had you to begin with. But still. He didn’t want it to end like this. The other marauders asked him about it as they sat down in the Transfiguration classroom— all the sixth and seventh years had once again been called to the room. The raven-haired boy shook his head.

“It was a failure. I don’t think she believes me.”

“You can’t blame her,” Remus reasoned.

“I know. I just… I can come up with every gift, gesture, apology in the world but I don’t know how I can make her believe me.”

“Maybe you have to let her go?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Pads—”

“Moony,” James cut in. “How long did I chase after Lily? Let him have this, just a little longer.”

“Okay.” He sat back.

The rest of the students slowly piled in. Sirius still looked for you. As the professors came in, he knew that you wouldn’t be there. None of the professors seemed to be too pleased at telling the students that they were considering ending detention. As far as they were concerned, none of them had truly learned respect. They didn’t care what you told them.

If the professors had their way, the students would be cleaning until the school year ended. They didn’t feel comfortable just letting the students off the hook. Every sixth and seventh year’s eyes went wide as McGonagall presented them the ultimatum.

“You can clean in detention for the rest of the year or write to your parents about your actions. And we will be overseeing each letter before you send them. You must all remember that actions have consequences.”

James searched his school bag for a self-writing quill and some parchment. “Already told them, easiest choice ever.”

Most students were still trying to process what was just presented to them. Surely, their parents probably had scores of consequences waiting for them. Most of them weren’t sure. A lot decided that they would revisit the idea later and, for now, would rather continue with the detention. Remus and Peter had already told the Potters, telling their parents was significantly easier.

“What are you doing, Padfoot?” Peter asked.

Sirius scoffed. “I’m not telling them over a damn letter.”

“You’re going to keep cleaning?”

“No. I need to talk to Minnie, don’t bother waiting for me after class.”

Remus, James, and Peter didn’t listen. They grabbed lunch, saving some for Sirius, and waited outside McGonagall’s door until their friend came out. Sirius was holding several letters and papers in his hands when he left. He had a lot of things to give to a lot of owls. The boys followed him to the owlery.  

“Oh, Prongs, I’m missing your game next weekend. It was the only time the Professor said I could go.”

“Okay, but go where?”

“I have a dinner party to attend.”

“What?”

Sirius explained a bit more as he gave the first letter to his owl. The marauders praised Padfoot on his idea. It was actually a step up from waltzing alone. Regulus approached his brother like he was insane when he saw him in the corridor the next day. He held up his invitation.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? They’re going to eat you alive, Siri.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I’m not joking.”

“I know. You’re coming right?”

Regulus scoffed. “Of course, I’m not letting you die alone. They’re already pissed they chose the wrong side of the war.”

“They should be glad they aren’t being put on trial.”

Both Black brothers laughed. Regulus tucked the invitation back in his pocket. He was about to make another joke when you passed by. You were reading an invitation that your owl delivered. It wasn’t an invitation for you but your parents. They had been invited to something and were requesting that you come as well. It was less of a request and more of a command considering they told you that they already discussed getting you out of class with Slughorn.

You already knew that you were getting no say in this. That was fine. It had been a minute since you had to perform the duties of old pureblood families. It was probably because of Voldemort’s downfall. So this was either a dinner party to celebrate or it was a party where the families that were on the wrong side tried to rebuild their social status and worm their way back into high society. Every family had bad people. You didn’t think a dinner to try and join the right side again was necessary. They could just denounce their views publicly.

But purebloods had traditions and this was one of them. So you met your parents outside the gates of Hogwarts late Friday night. The dinner was on Saturday but you had to get a dress. Well, you had to pick up a dress. The hosts insisted on buying something for you. You were getting more suspicious by the minute when your parents wouldn’t say anything. They still wouldn’t offer details even when your grandparents came over or your mother’s eldest siblings— they were a brother-sister twin pair.

This seemed like more than a dinner party. You were starting to feel like this was going to be a sit-down dinner between two families, not a party with several. The thought made your upper lip curl. You only relaxed when your uncle brought his children. This must have been for Mary. Pureblood families and their traditions. Mary must have gotten into a serious relationship.

You still rolled your eyes. Only purebloods would go all out for a simple boyfriend or girlfriend. This dinner party was like the pre-promise to the promise to a potential engagement. It was extravagant for no reason.

You piled into the carriage with Mary and your other cousins— the parents and grandparents were in the one up front. The carriages sped through the streets of London. So the family lived close by? Usually, you would need to apparate somewhere or take brooms to a station and then get in the thestral-drawn carriages. You all exited the vehicles and stood on the steps of some building. Your mother put her hand on your father’s chest as he pressed the bricks on the building.

“Don’t be so nervous, honey, you’ve done these things a million times.”

“Well, Walburga and Orion apologized for their comments but I still feel like they look down on me.”

“Well, they would prefer purebloods to stay pure and I don’t think that will change but I think they’re trying on their more extreme actions. They’ve even invited Andromeda and her husband. They just had a baby, you know?”

Your ears perked up. “I’m sorry, did you say Walburga and Orion? Walburga and Orion Black?”

Your grandfather chuckled. “Still playing coy. This is why you’re my favorite grandchild.”

You were ready to run down the steps, manners be damned, when the building started to move. A house elf opened the door that suddenly appeared with a number twelve on it. He ushered everyone inside and then escorted you from the corridor into a sitting parlor with dark green walls. This house was full of Slytherin pride to say the least.

The Black family— technically Tonks since Andromeda and her husband were there too— were already waiting and talking. They were dressed just as fancy as your family was. Andromeda and Ted stuck to speaking with Sirius. Walburga was fawning over the baby. Orion took the first step by greeting your father after greeting your grandparents and mother.

The two men were awkward with each other. It was clear that getting over blood purity was difficult but something that they were actually trying to do. Sirius stood up from the couch when he saw you. You had never seen him so dressed up— his hair was actually gelled back instead of being long and free.

“You look beautiful,” he commented when he got in front of you.

“Thank you,” you said in the most curt voice possible.

Walburga chuckled. “Sirius never showed us a picture of you so we had to go off of his descriptions for a gown. See, Orion, I still have style.”

The adults laughed at the joke that you, the Black Brothers, and your cousins didn’t think was all that funny. Their house elf informed you all that dinner was ready. Like you expected, you were sat right next to Sirius. This stupid dinner was for you and not Mary. You wondered why your parents kept it a secret? It wasn’t like they knew that you weren’t on speaking terms with everyone at school and that included Sirius. You suspected the invitation said to do so for whatever reason.

Dinner was full of small talk. The Zabinis and Blacks knew of each other but were never really in the same circles. Since both families had roots that were from elsewhere, when they got to England they had focused on establishing connections with UK wizarding families. They just never got around to becoming familiar with each other. You tried to avoid immediate discussion with Sirius and Regulus as much as possible. When dessert was brought out, Sirius stood up.

“First, thank you all for being here. I know we normally do these dinners a bit differently but this had to be done,” he started, nervously.

“We could all use a good shake up in tradition,” your grandfather added. The others laughed and Sirius just chuckled nervously.

“Right. Well, I would love for this to be one of those traditional dinners but it’s not. This is an apology dinner. I did something awful at the beginning of the school year.”

He turned to your parents. “And I would like to formally apologize for having hurt your daughter.”

Sirius brought out the parchment list. His parents’ face grew redder with anger as he explained everything. Your family was a range of anger, confusion, pity, and more. You went back and forth between watching Sirius, his family, and yours. You actually continued to look at him as he met your eyes.

“We weren’t kind to you and I should’ve said something the moment I started liking you. No, I should’ve said something before the list was even finished. I can’t take that back and that’s something I’m going to always regret. I will always be sorry for treating you how we did, (Y/N). Everything I said when I asked you to the Yule Ball was real. I meant it. I swear you aren’t a joke or a stupid punchline. Not to me.”

“Siri—”

“Regulus,” Orion cut you off. “Did you know about any of this?”

He hung his head down. “Everything he said was true. The, uh, the whole school doesn’t talk to (Y/N).”

Walburga’s jaw ticked. “Kreacher! Please show (Y/N) the room she’s staying in for the night.”

“Of course, Mistress Black.”

The little house elf took your hand and led you upstairs. The room was covered in posters and full of stuff that you were only used to seeing when you went to visit your cousins on your dad’s side of the family. Kreacher showed you the bathroom and handed you some towels.

Before you turned on the water to take a shower, you could hear Walburga and Orion yelling at their sons. After you got out, you could still hear them. When you got back to your room for the night, you could no longer make out exact words. You could tell the difference in voices based on pitch but had no clue what was being said. At some point— after you heard a voice speak that sounded like your grandmother— the volume went down considerably.

You could hear the clinking of silverware and the shuffling of several pairs of feet. The shower at the end of the hall started. Whatever conclusion had been reached, you weren’t sure. But a conclusion had been reached. Your family came upstairs as you began to braid your hair for bed.

“I have a game tomorrow, so we’re going to head out,” Mary said before leaving with most of the family.

Your parents gave you the very vague answer that they supported whatever you did and couldn’t wait to see you when Hogwarts got out before leaving with the others.

You finished braiding your hair when Sirius knocked on the open doorway, holding a bundle of green fabric. He tried not to stare at your body through your satin romper pajamas. It had been a while since he saw you with such little on. Sirius picked at his flannel pants, trying to will away certain thoughts of you before he got a hard-on at a very inopportune time.  

“Can I come in?”

You nodded. He sat on the edge of the bed, giving you some distance.

“This is your room, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yeah. I guess all the stuff gave it away.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“I’m sharing with Reg.”

You both pursed your lips, not having anything else to say. You looked at him.

“It sounded pretty bad down there.”

“Not the first time they’ve told me I’m a disgrace to the family. The public shaming was new,” he tried to joke. “It could’ve been worse. Reg and I are still in the will.”

“Sirius, I accept your apology.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. This was really his last attempt. There was nothing he could do after this if you didn’t want to talk to him. He took a chance and scooted closer to you, moving even a bit closer when you didn’t move away. He picked at the green bundle of fabric in his hand before lifting it up.

“I actually planned on giving this to you when I first apologized. You make it look so easy, I don’t know how you finished one at Prongs’ matches.”

You looked at the green sweatshirt with your name and a rabbit embroidered in silver thread. Sirius tried to make it match the sweatshirts that you made for them as close as possible. The needlework was kind of sloppy and there was a clear difference in your handwriting. But considering he started over four times, he was proud of himself for finishing. He was a bit over-excited, going to put the sweatshirt on you.  

You flopped the sleeves around. Sirius broke out into the dumbest looking smile when you flapped the extra big sleeves in his face. You suddenly pulled back, thinking he would see you as weird again. His smile dropped when he noticed you overthinking and analyzing everything. Sirius quickly grabbed at the sleeves, only getting fabric in his hands. He swung them around a little before cuffing them so they fit better.

“I bought it in my size… so we could switch sometimes.”

“So, we’re friends?” You asked.

Sirius looked down at you. “I was thinking more.”

“Oh.”

You leaned back as he leaned forward. The marauder pouted and tilted his head. His hand reached out to hold your chin until you looked him in the eyes.

“I’m a bad kisser,” you said.

Sirius just dropped his head. At least now he had confirmation that you had heard some of the stuff they said about you. You poked at Sirius’ head until he looked up. His eyes fluttered closed when you held his face in your hands. He opened them to see you looking at him. You gave him a small side smile.

“Friends, for now?”

“Yeah, friends.”

Regulus leaned against the doorway. “Siri, get your ass inside. I’d like to go to bed.”

The older boy groaned, wanting to spend more time with you. You looked past Sirius to meet Regulus’ eyes.

“He can stay with me, go on and sleep.”

Both boys blinked in surprise. Regulus gave his brother a thumbs up, closing the door and leaving. Sirius looked at you.

“Are you sure? I’ll go sleep on the couch when we finish talking.”

“You can stay, mister.”

He laughed, catching on. It was his turn to be the punchline for once. Except this was harmless and he was willingly entertaining it. The two of you talked well into the early hours of the morning. It was more on Sirius’ side than yours but there was clearly some tension that was past friendship. He wasn’t sure how long being just friends would last. It probably wouldn’t even be a problem if they hadn’t made fun of you.

The conversation stopped after you yawned, making him yawn which just made you yawn again. You both agreed that it was time to go to bed. Sirius transformed into his Animagus form, curling up near the foot of the bed. It might have been a bit creepy but he waited for you to fall asleep before doing the same.

Breakfast at Grimmauld Place was a very awkward affair. Walburga and Orion felt the need to apologize again for their sons’ behavior. In the kitchen, Sirius was told that he should consider himself lucky you saw something in him. He kept poking your foot with his underneath the table, enjoying watching the smile that came to your face. Regulus was mildly disgusted as he watched Sirius rest his chin on his hand and just stare at you. He had never seen his brother so in love before. Even their parents melted a little.

As you all left Grimmauld to go back to Hogwarts, Sirius grabbed your hand. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand and he held on the entire time. You let Sirius lead you to Gryffindor Tower. He only let go of your hand once the two of you were inside the dorm— he had wanted to make sure the entire common room saw you with him.

“Prongs, the game, how was it?”

James couldn’t speak. Neither could Remus or Peter or Lily who had come up to relax with her boyfriend in a more private space. Sirius wanted to pull you in for a cuddle but wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with that. Instead, he handed you one of his pillows and you both sat side by side while resting against the headboard. Remus recovered first at the sight in front of him.

“It worked? You two are—”

“Friends for now, Moons.” Sirius couldn’t stop himself from grinning when he looked at you. “But yeah, it worked. Bunny’s back.”

(end)

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x black!reader

[the-type-a]

•Dilf! Duncan says “oh my god” like bob belcher all the time and he doesn’t realize it.

-Baby spills juice? “oh my god”

-Courtney nags him about mess? “oh my god”

-Baby drops an absolute stink bomb in their diaper? “oh my god”

•Duncan buys their kids those shirts like “my dad can kick your dad’s ass” and Courtney only lets them wear it at home lol

•I can’t get it out of my head of that idea where they put his mugshot on a coffee mug & that shit says “World’s #1 Dad” and I can’t remember for the life of me who originally HC’s that!! Sorry babes 🥲 but yes, that’s very much his first Father’s Day gift lmao

•Duncan definitely let’s his baby taste a slice of lemon and records their reaction, Courtney’s appalled but low key finds their faces cute and funny af

•Their kids are the type of kids that start eating spicy shit at a really young age, it’s ridiculous & a little amazing,

Based on the fact that my nephew could eat an entire bag of hot cheetos when he was like 5 with no issue, we found this out when he got into his dad’s junk food stash 😂 he was fine and honestly wanted more.. weird kid, love him💕

•Their kids are the type to speak their mind, especially their daughter so like if they go to a friends house for dinner or something they’re like “where’s the seasoning?” Because they’re so used to their mom and dad’s cooking 💀 Courtney apologizes profusely and Duncan just laughs

•one of their children definitely flips them off during an ultrasound and that’s the one Duncan frames✨

•The duncney children are the type of kids that want to try their cup of coffee and both of them refuse until they’re like “fine, go ahead, you’re not gonna like it.” cue one of the duncney children taking a sip of pure black coffee that’s EXTRA strong and they want to GAG, but they inherited both of their parents stubbornness and swallow it with tears in their eyes saying, “it’s good.” They never ask for a sip again 😂

Duncan whenever anything out of his control happens with the kids, “Oh my God.” 💀

—

Can we talk about how Duncan would be an amazing father though? Like yes, he’s scary af whenever need be, but when he’s just able to be around the family?? He’s a big softy.

We all know his dad doesn’t win father of the year for Duncan. Yikes. But Duncan would do anything to make sure his kids feel loved and would never judge them. The kids can come to him with absolutely everything. Of course, if it’s super bad he’s flipping tf out, but they’re not scared to go to him.

He would definitely buy them mini rock band t-shirts growing up. What would really shock him is when his oldest is actually into the old school rock/punk music. Physically she’s a mini Courtney, personality wise? That’s Duncan’s child all the way 😂

They would make handmade Father’s Day gifts for him. Courtney helps them write the words on the mugs, t-shirts, and drawings. Duncan takes whatever he can pin to the wall at work. He’s proud of every single thing the kids make. It could be a page full of scribbles and he’s pinning up.

Imagine Duncan at a sporting event for the kids? He’d flip the referee off if they call a penalty or some shit. The coaches are just eyeing Courtney begging her to control her husband LMAO but she gets like that too 😂

Omg the spicy food and coffee HCs?! Those children will not even touch anything that doesn’t have a little bit of spice. and the coffee? Freaking dead, that’s 100% accurate!

Brb adding that HC of the ultrasound to What Happens Now 🤗

#duncney #td courtney #td duncan #total drama courtney #total drama duncan

[hattrickprincess]

About penaltygate, the timing was a key factor - it being after kylian missed the euro penalty, the rumours that he asked to be penalty taker over ney and messi etc. Neymar's twitter likes fuelled it, Messi fanboys added to it when that clip of Kylian "walking into" messi was apparently evidence he hated him.

Kylian already had penalty trauma from the Euros and probably wanted to redeem himself for that too. Imo Ney should've just let him take it, even if he'd miss again. That would've made him a legend in my eyes (and if kylian missed again it would've proven his point that ney should be penalty taker anyway). But they weren't on good terms and Neymar is egoistic and touchy about penalties (he has a right to be but still)

neymar got a lot of hate for the cavani situation too, it's just that international fans were paying more attention to psg in 2022. Cavani "el matador" was loved by fans and neymar was seen as arrogant. Thing is, cavani missed that penalty. Then asked for the freekick which dani alves refused. Neymar scored. So when kylian won the penalty and neymar asked for it he said no, ney patted his head and that was it. Until kylian missed. Then asked for the next one, to which neymar said no, took it and scored. Neymar scoring is the difference.

you said everything that can be said to that sooo

however i do think ney should've been the bigger person instead of kylian cause he simply has more experience, he knows what it feels like, it felt selfish in a way

[loosesodamarble]

Hi, can I have A5 w Asta?

Yes Anon! You can have this request! I know I keep apologizing for taking forever to finish these requests but I've got some other projects going on at the moment and I...

It's here now though! I finished it! You didn't specify whether you wanted things to go Asta's way or not but I decided to be good to our little future Wizard King!

I hope you, and others, enjoy what I've come up with.

Summary: When you, an administrator at the Magic Knight Headquarters, summons Asta for an unknown reason, Asta thinks of his history with you. Genre: general, friendship Word count: ~1000

..........

When Asta received a summons from you, all the other Bulls had annoyed looks on their faces.

“Again?” Zora groaned. “They keep bothering you and it's starting to bother me...”

“You know you don’t have to meet them every time they ask, right?” Nero asked.

“Nah, it’s no big deal,” Asta assured everyone, as he reached the door. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back later!”

As he rode the Demon-Slayer Sword through the air, Asta reminisced on his history with you.

Asta sat in a tiny office. The desk in front of him was covered in stacks of paper, inkwells of varied fullness, and quills that were either pristine or used to ruin—no inbetween. Then, you stormed in with hair so frazzled it looked like you’d fought a tornado and lost.

“Alright pipsqueak, it’s time you talk,” you said with a scowl. “We’re gonna have a nice, lengthy chat and you’ll tell me all your secrets. Got it?”

You looked ready to kill Asta at the time. And very nearly did.

You refused to let him leave for any reason. Not a drink or snack or even a bathroom. He was in that room for… Asta never figured out how long the interview had lasted. But he had been stuck with you until you’d grilled him for all he knew about his anti-magic swords.

The next time you two met…

“Oh hey! It’s you again!”

You glared when Asta approached you in the halls of Headquarters. Your cross expression might’ve been due to him abruptly approaching you but there was also a stack of binders higher than your head that you were carrying in your arms.

“Long time, no see, right?” Asta greeted you with a grin.

“And it’ll be longer. I have to be going,” you snippily replied.

“Wait wait wait!” Before you could dismiss Asta again, he took half of your stack into his own arms. “There we go!”

Your eye twitched and you clicked your tongue. “You really want to waste your time with me?”

“Waste? It’s not a waste if I’m helping someone!” Asta insisted.

Your surprise had been clear on your face and you didn’t protest the offer after that. What’s more, you gave Asta a coupon to a local cafe as a thanks.

“They’re not that bad,” Asta muttered to himself, still thinking of you.

Even though you were uptight, demanding even…

“Asta!” You snapped the next time he stepped into your office. “You and your vice captain failed to obtain Forbidden Magic licenses for those devils! I will not stand for such flagrant neglect of the rules!”

But you were attentive and thoughtful…

You, on a visit to the Black Bull’s base, slapped a stack of paperwork into Zora’s hand.

“It’s incomplete,” you pointed out. “Your squad will get a penalty if I accept it as is. Complete it and then bring it back.”

“What kind of mockery is this?!” Magna snapped from one side of the room.

“I’m making sure that your squad doesn’t get in trouble over administrative matters!” you shouted. “Learn to say thank you, dammit!” As you made your way to the door, you passed by Asta.

“Uh, thank you, by the way,” he said, smiling warmly.

You turned up your nose. “I’m doing my job, kid. It just happens to benefit your team.”

You had become heavily involved in the matters of the Black Bulls overall.

Many of the missions sent to the Black Bulls were administered to them by you. The number of visits you made to base went beyond what was necessary for in-person evaluations and base inspections. Sometimes, you even brought gifts for the squad members. “I need to repay the favor to my hosts,” was your excuse. You complained about getting gray hairs whenever having to read damage reports but always seemed to find a way to minimize the demerits the Black Bulls received.

Even though you never said it out loud, Asta knew how much you cared.

To Asta at least, you were an unofficial member of the Black Bulls.

Taking all his past interactions up to that point into account, long story short: things would be going in Asta’s favor that day.

Finally, Asta spotted you on the balcony where you usually greeted him. He waved and you mirrored him.

“Yo!” Asta greeted when he landed. His smile grew when he saw you actually smiling at him. The first time he’d seen you with such a face. “What got you in such a good mood?”

“For one, you’re here,” you replied plainly. “But also, I’ve got some amazing news for you!” You gestured for him to follow you to your office. “It regards your trial, it seems to be coming to a close,” you explained as you walked. “There’s a lot of support for you given your actions prior to the knowledge of your devil coming to light. You being so upstanding made the case easier. So thank you.”

“Hey, it’s not just ‘cause of me. You’re the one in charge of my case, right? So you deserve some credit.”

You paused and sighed, “I only reminded everyone of your service to the kingdom, nothing more.”

“Don’t say that! You’ve been watching out for me and the Bulls for more than a year now!” Asta insisted, his eyes shining. “We didn’t start on the right foot but you opened your heart to us and became an ally! We’re still not the best squad but we’re improving our work thanks to you! And it’s thanks to you being here at Headquarters that my situation has changed. So thank you!”

“Oh Asta…” You sighed again. “You might’ve said that too early because I still have one more piece of news for you.” You placed your hands on his shoulders. “You’re getting promoted. You’re one step closer to becoming Wizard King, Asta. Congratulations.”

The scream of joy Asta let out in that moment pierced your ears to be sure. But your smile told Asta that you didn’t even mind.

#questions from the ask box #black clover #black clover asta #black clover fanfic #reader insert #300 follower special #a moment in time

[ladyeroway]

Well Unhallowed got pretty messed up last night!

We failed to talk down our parapsychologists brother who has mutated into a horrific insectile thrope. Combat went bad almost immediately with the first hit the brother got off would have killed the parapsychologist if he didn't use his reroll (we all get one per session and we all used them!) Ezra got in the way of the thrope to protect his friend.

Going to pop the rest under a readmore cause it is long and I want to talk about Ezra finally getting some closure.

Thropes have insane vitality so we spent multiple rounds doing damage for him to only heal and degenerate into a horrible fleshy creature. Blood acid, a leech tentacle and a horrific Krang like face. It was rough.

Unbeknownst to us in the room the Medium who was watching the door was fighting off 3 of the people who had multiple spirits in them. Because of again some terrible rolls she decided to open a rift in the veil to suck the souls into it. But she couldn't close the rift and got sucked in herself. As the rift got bigger...

The Dhampir failed her roll not to get sucked into the rift. The parapsychologist tried to close it whilst the Undertaker and Ezra managed to take down the brother.

We rushed to the veil to help the Para close it. Then the Para failed his roll to get sucked in. Leaving Ezra to try physically close it with the spectral energy of his hands. Which turned into a stalemate with Ezra's wound penalty. It wasn't getting bigger but he was failing to close it.

Until he heard a voice telling him to let go. It would help. He refused until the voice told him he did forgive him but he was angry that he never visited the girls. It was Oliver and Ezra let go of the veil in shock and was sucked in with the Undertaker.

We awoke in the Land of the Dead, somewhat aware we were not dead but our souls were out of our bodies. We got to see the Tower up close, it is enormous and breaking the laws of physics, with non euclidean houses bending at the bottom, stacked on top of each other. Spirits were here doing day to day tasks. We were almost attacked by a spirit of a man we killed in the first session. Until a man came to our aid, scaring them off telling us he was a Lieutenant of the Sepulchre Guard to the Lords of Death. It was Oliver, the first thing he did was hug Ezra before telling him he looked like shit. The laughter came back to Ezra like Oliver had never left.

Oliver told us that he was here to guide us to the First Lord of Death and Ezra struggled to look him in the eye. Oliver was as charming as was in life and the group noted how different Ezra was with him before giving Oliver and Ezra sometime alone.

Ezra told Oliver how much he missed him. Oliver fired back at that he missed him too but he thought he would have done more for Oliver's family. They needed him. Ezra argued that they needed their father and not him and he could barely look Oliver in the eye, let alone his daughters and wife knowing he should have done more to protect Oliver.

This angered Oliver further telling Ezra it was never his fault. The only one that could take blame was Mandolin. It was split moment decisions akin to fate. Ezra should be the last person to take the blame. He lectured Ezra that he did not give his life willingly but he wanted Ezra to actually live. Not this half life he had now.

He told him how he visited often and saw how much he hurt himself. Barely eating, working himself too much, not sleeping and how the nightmares had got out of control because Ezra gives himself no time to rest and no time to heal. He had given himself no time to mourn and he saw how close Ezra was to giving up. He wanted Ezra to reach out to his family. Their family, he had support there if he would just take it.

They finished their conversation with Oliver asking Ezra to promise to live. To find people in his life, and regain some happiness. It was the one thing he desired that would make his death worth it. Ezra was honest and said he had thought he would let go after he dealt with Mandolin but he promised he wouldn't. He would live and keep on living even with the way he was now. He would reach out to Clara and the girls even if it was hard.

Oliver also revealed that his dying energy that had leaked into Ezra left him with no hands in this realm, like Ezra he had gloves on. But underneath them was nothing because they are in Ezra. Ezra told him about his experience about eating the soul of a spirit. Oliver explained that was not from him but the veins on his chest and neck. It was a spiritual backlash that caused him to be a half-lifer when he killed the body Mandolin was in. Apparently it also had this effect of destroying a soul.

They headed back to the group, Ezra feeling distraught but with much needed closure. He cracked a few jokes with Oliver as they traversed the weird geometry of this land before finding themselves at the entrance of the Tower to meet the First Lord of Death.

So yeah! It was a lot. Ezras promise is in earnest, he won't give up. The shame and grief is still there, it might always be there but Oliver certainly gave him a talking to. He needed to hear it. And once he destroys Mandolin he can try and rebuild his life and keep his promise.

#ezra gage #oliver sinclair #rpg shenanigans #the session where ezra got nagged to life by the ghost of his dead partner #it was very intense #one bit i loved was when they were trying to figure out how to let go of what physics should do and walk down a vertical surface #oliver said whats the worst that will happen you will roll down flat on your face its not like you have a body to worry about #ezra quipped back i lied i didnt miss you and rolled a 20 to do it #as the others fell face first

[idontlikeem]

if tanger-matheson gets broken up, who does each one slot with? (POJ??????)

man, good question. it's a tough one because the kris/dumo pairing is so ingrained after however many years it's been, and the other pairings have really been built around them being together, so what do you do?

i'm sort of talking out loud and this got long (shock surprise) so i'm putting it under the cut.

POJ is not IMO ready for playoffs hockey. from what i've read, the big club's coaching staff has concerns about his conditioning and physicality, among other things, and he did not impress in training camp, or down with the baby pens this season enough that they'd be pulling him up for this series. based on the various articles, he's got a decent amount of work before they call him up full-time.

i'd be interested to see beaulieu one of these games, just to see how his presence in front of our own net looks. we desperately, desperately need someone who can clear the other team away without screening our goalie, and is a bit of a physical presence when necessary. can he provide that? if so, i don't quite know where he fits in the lineup, but i hope sully doesn't do his whole 'no big bodies' thing and refuse to play a guy that could help prop up our significantly weak goalie situation.

the other problem with letang/matheson, in addition to their defensive liabilities, is them being on the ice at the same time means the other d-pairs have no offensive upside whatsoever. now, marino is perking up a little now that the playoffs have started and looks more like his rookie year self, so if he continues on that upward trajectory that's a really good sign. but as far as reliable offense from the defense, it's sort of just those two, so if they're on the ice together that limits the offensive contributions for 2/3 of the game when the other pairings are on, and we desperately need offensive contributions right now.

so, okay, let's see what i can do here. this would be if they split up kris and mike. i'm not sure chad could handle top-line minutes but maybe:

letang-ruhwedel

marino-pettersson

matheson-beaulieu/friedman

i also do wonder if pettersson gets benched at some point if he reverts to 'let's take a dumbass penalty at the worst possible time' form. if that's the case...

letang-ruhwedel

marino-matheson

friedman-beaulieu (based on what i've heard of beaulieu this pairing could be maximum chaos and irritation for the other team; if that's true, i want and need it ASAP)

i literally am just taking guesses here though; it's hard because we haven't seen beaulieu play at all, and we know that they practiced kris/mike during the regular season in case of injury so they wouldn't be totally unfamiliar playing together, so presumably they'll stay together for a while until it truly implodes.

thanks for the question, anon, this was fun!

#asks #anon

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Father, dear father | JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: JJ always sees his dad when he least expects it

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word count: 1096

Warning: Mention of violence/abuse

-

The rumbling of a motorbike resonated outside the chateau as you were piling up empty beer cans into a trash bag to busy yourself - and stop thinking about John B's death penalty sentence. You raised your head up, eyes on the door, knowing who was about to walk in.

''Where were you?''

''I went to see John B,'' JJ replied, the screen door flapping shut behind him. ''Orange doesn't suit him.'' If ithad simply been a joke, you would've laughed, but you knew JJ enough to see through his joke that it was a way to camouflage the emotions he was feeling.

''We're gonna get him out of there,'' you promised.

JJ looked down, nodding. ''I...I saw my dad too.''

You stilled at the mention of the one-who-shall-not-be-named. You hadn't heard from him since the day JJ stole the Phantom. You also hadn't seen his face at the gas station - which you work at - where he usually bought his beer and liquor in a long time.

''I saw him at the prison. He was with other inmates...as in, he is in jail.''

Good. Luke Maybank deserved to rot behind bars of a jail-cell until his last breath for all the shit he did to JJ. He was a thief, drug addict, a drunk and a shitty fucking father.

JJ opened his mouth, but was struggling to get words out. His eyebrows furrowed and water blurred his vision. ''Plumb said I'm gonna end up in jail just like my dad.''

His head hung low and your face twisted into anger. You weren't a violent person, but you wanted to punch her.

JJ had caused a lot of trouble around the island and made himself a name to the local cops. The Pogues often joked that JJ was going to go in jail one day if he kept being so reckless and stupid, but it was all jokes.

Plumb wanted to hurt JJ, she meant those words.

You refused to let him believe her.

Dropping what you had in your hands, you crossed the living room and held JJ's face so he'd look at you. ''You are not your dad, JJ. You're nothing like the shit-head, okay?'' You didn't miss the tears in his eyes as you spoke sternly yet gently. You wanted your words to stick and erase Plumb's. ''You're loving, brave and loyal. You're always looking out for me and your friends, always defending us at any turn. You're all those things your dad will never be.''

You felt his arms wrapping around your middle and you put yours around his neck and shoulders, allowing him to lay his head on your shoulder. JJ's hold was tight, but not so tight you couldn't breathe. You kissed the side of his neck and felt him smile.

When he pulled back, you searched his eyes for signs of tears and wiped it for him. ''You okay?''

JJ nodded. ''Yeah. I just had dust in my eye.''

You rolled your eyes at his bullshit.

He walked back you, heading to the kitchen, and you only now noticed his white shirt - its cuffed sleeves showing his toned arms - and snapback and fucking blue jeans. JJ never wore jeans. He was always in khaki shorts.

Your eyes followed him up and down with thirst. ''Since when do you wear jeans? Did you run out of clothes to wear and stole them from Pope?''

''I had to dress up to see my best friend. It's a special occasion, you know,'' he explained, closing the fridge and cracking open a beer. ''I had sunglasses too. Just wait for the full look.'' JJ put the aviators back on and- Christ.

''Honestly, I don't know if I want you to keep it on or take it off.''

JJ's lips curled at the corner, forgetting about the beer and setting it down. ''I'll make that decision for you.''

.

You heard a honk and looked ahead, seeing Kiara's dad's truck. Fucking finally.

''Oh, and speak of the freaking devil. Look who it is, the tortoise and the tortoise, just a couple hours late,'' John B pointed out, perched on top of the twinkie.

The van had water to its third by now and you had gotten attacked by an alligator - well, John B did.

''Where the hell were you, guys?'' Pope asked.

''Paternal complications,'' Kie briefly explained.

JJ got out of the truck and went to the trunk, grabbing the rope. ''Luke was at the chateau.''

You frowned. What the fuck was he doing at the chateau? Wasn't he in prison? You didn't say anything in front of the others as they didn't know JJ's dad was in prison.

Later, when it was only you and JJ, you decided to ask.

''How come was Luke at the chateau?''

''He was released for good behavior.'' JJ laughed dryly, having difficulty believing it. ''He busted a window in a pharmacy and stole from the pharmacist so the cops were after him. He hid at the chateau and waited for me so I could help him get out of the island - for good.''

Like always, JJ left some parts out. He didn't tell you the part where Luke had grabbed him from the back, hand over his mouth, as if he was going to kidnap him. Or, that he yelled at him and shook him. Or that he played with his feelings and head.

''H-he's not gonna come back, Y/N. I'm never gonna see him again.''

While it was mostly good that his dad was gone, a part of JJ was sad. He was still his dad.

''Now, all I have is you and the Pogues.'' His voice cracked and you reached out and took his hand, holding it between yours.

It pained you to see him like this. Hopefully, it was the last time Luke was causing his son pain.

''You'll always have me, J.'' You were still young and honestly didn’t know if you’d be together forever, but, at the moment, leaving wasn't in your future plans.

''It was hard watching him leave. Despite all the bad things he did, I love him, you know, in a weird twisted way.''

His old man didn't deserve JJ's love - not even a small part. All his life JJ wished to have a good relationship with his father. He forgave him over and over again; he was always hopeful that one day he'll stop taking drugs and drinking and abusing him. But he never did.

''You’re allowed to love him...even if just a little bit.''

''I shouldn’t.''

#jj maybank #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #Outer Banks #outer banks fic #keep sending prompts #obx #obx prompt

[lightsovermonaco]

Body Shots (Pierre Gasly)

Inspired by (and beta read) by the amazing @limp-wrist-max​ thank you Mea! 

Masterlist

Word count: 3.5k

Recommended song: “Lucky You” by Sim Dane

Vacationing in Milan had its perks. Fine dining, luxury stores that were prime for window shopping, and the proximity to your best friend, to name a few.

When you'd touched down in Milan you had had no intentions of visiting Pierre. You had just finished your exams for your summer class and had a week before the next semester started up, so you had simply booked the cheapest ticket and boarded a plane. 

The intent had been to have some good wine, good food and unwind. Pierre saw your Instagram story minutes after you posted it and recognized the bakery you stopped at for lunch. And once he found out you were only a few minutes away from that weekend's grand prix, he had ideas that didn't involve you reading a novel all day.

Pierre had insisted that a last minute cancelation by a family friend had left a paddock pass unclaimed and had suggested you take it.

"You're my best friend, it'll be fun to have you experience a weekend through my eyes for once instead of sitting in the stands. Come visit me."

Something in the inflection of his voice made the simple request rub you raw. He missed you. It had been months since your last get together and you couldn't blame him. The last year had been rough for him and he  rarely had anyone physically at his side to help him through it.

Inviting you instead of one of his parents was about more than your current proximity to the track. He hadn't missed a beat in asking you, not hesitating to consider anyone else being with him this weekend.

Your stomach had turned as you climbed in a cab Sunday morning, not out of fear of something going wrong but because of the nagging feeling that something was about to change.

You'd known Pierre since you were kids. Your brother had raced in karting before pursuing another dream, but in the few short years you'd hung around European tracks you had managed to forge a bond with one of your brother's rivals. That friendship carried on regardless of the distance that separated you, kept alive by visits in the off season and once a year trips to the racetrack at Silverstone.

Pierre met you at the gates and you had barely seen him since.

A decent qualifying session saw the Frenchman start P10 on Sunday's race. He didn't hide the fact that he was disappointed, but come time for his final meeting with the team you'd never guess he was anything but ecstatic.

You had to be conscious about your mouth hanging open when Pierre stepped into the garage in his fireproofs with his suit half undone. The tuft of blond hair peeking through his backwards cap floats on an invisible breeze and he bounces on his toes. His brow furrows when he is handed a data sheet, listening intently to what the engineer points out.

Butterflies riot in your stomach when Pierre catches you staring and winks. You pray he writes the blush on your cheeks off as the heat and he must, because he raises his eyebrows and flexes a bit.

You laugh to cover the way you want to do nothing but strip him out of that tight fitted white shirt. Your crush was getting out of hand. Pierre's shameless, friendly flirting only escalated matters.

You told yourself it was nothing. He was like this with every girl he met, making a fool of himself to earn a laugh. You were no different, except maybe that you were a constant where most other women only got to enjoy his playful personality for a short time.

You're treated to a few long minutes of watching Pierre prep to climb into the car before he's heading out on track to line up at the grid. 

The race starts off fine, Pierre's pace is better than expected. One of the Haas's breaks down at the pit entry and Pierre's strategist decides to bring him in for a fresh set of tires. A kiss seems like the proper reward for their stroke of brilliance, which affords Pierre the advantage when the pits close soon after. 

Restarting on lap 28 is nail biting. Hamilton, Stroll, and Pierre make up the podium places. The entire garage gasps when Stroll goes wide at turn four. Hamilton serves his penalty and Pierre inherits the lead. Sainz jumps on the opportunity to attack.

Pierre defends brilliantly until the final lap. The team erupts when he crosses the line first, bringing home the win.

Red, white and green confetti sticks to his skin as he sprays the champagne over all of you. In the heat of it all, Pierre sits on that top step and shakes his head. You already know that the photos of him being snapped from all angles will be gorgeous, the sun shining down on the first French grand prix winner in decades.

A legend in the minds of his people and in yours.

You could scarcely believe it yourself. Your best friend had finally, after years of being pushed down, won a grand prix at the temple of speed. Red Bull had been wrong, just as you'd insisted when Pierre cried over losing his seat and his friend in one weekend. But god, did Pierre rise above it all.

Pierre catches your gaze just before he leaves the podium. A lifetime of emotion swirls around him like an enigma, begging you to find out what it was hiding. Your wave is barely more than a lift of your hand but Pierre notes it nonetheless, tipping his trophy in your direction.

You wait patiently on the sidelines as Pierre poses for pictures with his team on and off the track. His attention constantly falls on you, his grin widening each time he sees you tucked under the arm of an enthusiastic mechanic or crew member. Alpha Tauri was a family and you were an honorary member thanks to your connection to their driver.

An action packed hour of cameras passes before Pierre is able to break away. As soon as he's given the go ahead he passes his trophy off and marching to you. You're both practically running by the time you meet in the middle. You crash into him and he lifts you off your feet in a crushing hug.

"You did it," you whisper, overwhelmed by his success now that you've gotten the chance to celebrate with him. "I'm so proud of you."

Pierre laughs as he sets you on your feet. His smile is wider than you've ever seen it and you're sure his cheeks must be sore.

"Wish they allowed us to bring a friend up there," Pierre says softly, a smile melting into a sly smirk. "Seeing you doused in champagne is an image I wouldn't forget."

You shake your head, caught up in his ceaseless flirting. He had no idea that his honeyed words and gentle touches lit something inside of you, rattling your brain and making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. Instead you snatch the black and gold Pirelli cap off his head and place it on your own, earning you a peal of laughter.

"Looks better on you anyway." Pierre runs a hand through his sweaty, champagne doused hair, leaving bits sticking up at odd angles.

Someone calls Pierre's name, far enough away that there's no rush. Pierre's hands remain planted on your waist and yours stay wrapped around his neck. By the way his bright blue eyes bore into yours, you swear he's thinking the same thing you are.

"Thank you for believing in me," he murmurs, gaze falling to your lips.

"I knew it was just a matter of time," you tell him, inching up on your tiptoes. Tempted by his win, you want to ruin the best friendship you've ever had. You want to discover if the lips you spend far too much time dreaming about felt as soft as they looked. You want to know how it feels to be lost in Pierre, newly minted race winner, and find out just how he dealt with the adrenaline and euphoria of his incredible drive.

"Well done mate!"

Max Verstappen startles the two of you apart. You take a healthy step back and drop your gaze to the ground to hide your burning cheeks.

"Thanks." Pierre accepts the Dutchman's embrace and claps him on the back. "Sucks I didn't get to fight you for it."

"There will be more chances in the future. And I didn't expect to see you here, that's a nice surprise." Max knocks you with his shoulder, tipping you off balance. On instinct you latch onto Pierre's arm to steady yourself. You wait a heartbeat too long to remove your hand and both of you find anywhere to look but each other.

"So where's the party?" You ask, searching for a distraction from the way your palm still burns.

"Definitely not at Red Bull." Max shudders and you laugh because that's what you do when someone is being over dramatic. It rings hollow in your ears.

"I hear there's a few guys with adjoining rooms at the hotel who bought plenty of booze," Pierre says. "You and Dan wanna come by?"

"Is that really a question?" Max grins, already typing out a text as Pierre feeds him the details.

**********

"You should do body shots," Max suggests, which earns a roaring laugh from Daniel and a half hearted one from Pierre.

"I don't think so," Pierre says, "there's no one here I trust enough to let that happen."

"Not even your best friend?" Max gestures to you and shoots you a wink when Pierre glances over. "I think she's trustworthy."

"No thanks." Pierre holds up his plastic cup and salutes Max before draining it to the dregs.

Pierre's immediate refusal hurt more than it probably should have. You hadn't expected him to jump at the offer but having him shut the idea down so thoroughly hadn't been what you wanted either.

Max notes your pouty lower lip and speaks on your behalf. "Come on mate," Max insists. "You just won your first prix, live a little! It's not like you've got anything to lose, she's your best friend."

"That's exactly why-"

"Shut up, it would be fun! Wouldn't it?" Max says this last bit to you, a wild grin on his face.

Max expects you to turn red and object. That was his end goal. But what the Dutchman hadn't counted on was how drunk you already were on Pierre. On his smile. On his bright blue eyes, swirling in the aftermath of his unlikely triumph. And mostly on the not-so-sneaky way he glances at you every few minutes.

"Let's do it."

Pierre blinks, searching your face for any sign of distress. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah, why not?" You shrug, suddenly fearing that you'd read him wrong and he really was against this whole thing. "Unless you don't want to-"

"Get the vodka," Pierre interrupts, nodding to Max though his stare remains pinned on you. Pierre latches onto your wrist and drags you around the room until he finds a table long and sturdy enough for his liking. 

"This a good height for you?"

The coffee table is low enough that you'd have to kneel. Luckily getting on your knees isn't something you'd mind doing for Pierre. You lick your lips without thinking. Pierre's pupils blow wide, black swallowing the swirling oceans of blue.

"Sure," is all you manage.

"Good." Apparently neither of you were able to focus on speech. You work together to clear the empty plastic cups and used napkins from the surface. Your hands brush when you both reach for the last cup and you just catch the way Pierre's breath hitches.

You and Pierre have danced this dance since you were teenagers. Each of you knows the steps by heart. The only difference is tonight neither of you were poised to bow out before the final lift.

"Beep beep, bitches!" You yank your hand away when Max's shout reaches you. Pierre's hand lingers in front of him,  outstretched as if your palm remained grazing his thumb. 

Max holds the bottle of vodka over his head as he wades through the crowd. "You're all about to be very, very entertained."

"Where's your chaperone?" You ask Max, searching for Daniel in the low lighting. You press your palm to your thigh, dissipating Pierre's lingering heat.

The Dutchman waves you off. "Went to get us more drinks. Pierre, isn't it kinda hard to do body shots if you're still fully clothed?"

"Who says I'm the one getting undressed?"

Max's grin dimples his flushed cheeks. "I mean you can ask her to take her shirt off in front of all these people if you want to."

"No," Pierre responds quickly. "Fine. I'll do it."

When Pierre strips off his shirt he gets more than a few whistles from men and women alike. That tended to happen when someone was built like a Greek fucking god, you supposed. Whoever voted for People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" and decided on Michael B. Jordan had clearly never laid eyes on Pierre, with his bronzed skin, endless expanses of muscle, and brilliant cheshire grin.

Michael B. Jordan who?

Pierre hands the team branded shirt off and lays out on the table. He pillows an arm under his head, bare bicep flexed as he gets comfortable. Leaning in to kiss along the hard muscle was out of the question, however tempting it was.

Pierre looks up expectantly. "You coming?" 

Holy shit, this was actually happening.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You sink to your knees and Pierre laughs.

"Up here." He pats his thigh with his free hand and beacons you forward. "Please."

Screw it, you've already thrown your friendship out the window. This night ended either in heartbreak or awkwardness, might as well get your money's worth.

A few whoops break out above the music. The bassline isn't the only thing thundering in your chest as you straddle Pierre's thighs, hands braced on his chest.

"Okay?" Pierre whispers for your ears only. You nod with what you hope is a charming smile.

"Alright move," Max says, shooing you back until you're resting on your haunches. Max flicks the cap off the bottle and you grab it to take a long sip.

Max gapes at you and you wipe a hand over your mouth. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies."

Pierre's thighs tense beneath you in response to your bold declaration. Dozens of Pierre's friends and team members gather around. For all you care, Pierre is the only person in the room.

"Last chance to back out," Max warns. You're too busy tracking the drop of liquid that falls from the neck of the bottle to splash onto the crease of Pierre's abs to bother responding. 

"Pour it out." Pierre's chest sinks with his demand, doing nothing but sparking your imagination, creating images of him heaving beneath you. You'd sell your soul to recreate the way you're currently poised above Pierre's hips with a little less clothing and no audience.

Max gives up hope on you replying and dribbles the alcohol up Pierre's abdomen, stopping just below his pecks.

"Have at 'er-"

Your tongue is on Pierre's skin before Max has finished his sentence. You feel the muscle tense beneath your tongue, going rigid at the first contact. The burn of the vodka doesn't even register as you lap it up, catching the drips that fall over his sides. 

You aren't sure either of you is breathing. Salty sweat mingles with the sharpness of the alcohol, an afterthought barely worth mentioning.

Blame the liquid courage or blame the high from Pierre's win, but you were confident Pierre was enjoying this just as much as you. 

Planting a hand on Pierre's hip, you steal a glance up at him to find him locked on you. You take that as permission to continue, dragging your tongue flat up his stomach and continuing well past where the vodka had been poured. Up between his pecks, over the curve of his throat that bobs beneath your tongue, over his chin until you meet his lips, already parted and waiting. 

Neither of you pay the shouts cresting around you any heed. You've both waited too long for this, endured too many almosts and what ifs to let the opportunity slip through your fingers. Your sticky hands cradle Pierre's face, angling it in a way that's to your liking so you can explore more of his mouth. He tastes like whiskey and mint, the juxtaposition of hot and cold scattering your thoughts. One of Pierre's hands finds the nape of your neck when you gasp for air, refusing to let you end the moment.

And it's pure, unending bliss that floods your veins when he nips at your lower lip, swollen and surely reddened from his kiss. His thumb sweeps across the back of your neck while you both fight to catch the breath currently evading you.

Daydreams didn't hold a candle to the real thing. One taste and you were addicted, craving as much as Pierre was willing to give.  

"Hey," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a stupidly gorgeous smile.

"That was nice," you tease, tangling your fingers in the silky blond strands of his hair. "I wouldn't be opposed to doing it again."

"Me too. Maybe somewhere where it's just us though. I wouldn't want to scandalize my team any further." You manage to steal another sweet peck before Max hauls you off Pierre.

"Fucking finally," Daniel says, clapping when you're upright again. "Do you know how long I've been trying to orchestrate this? The two of you really are dumber than a box of rocks. I can't believe all it took was Max suggesting body shots to get you two to kiss."

The arm that wraps around your waist feels right. Pierre hasn't hugged you like this before, with his chin resting on your shoulder and his nose nuzzling your neck, but it already feels like home.

Pierre ignores Max completely in favor of pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. "Why don't we go back to my room? I'll pour more alcohol on myself if that's what it takes to convince you."

You're just about to take him up on the offer when one of his team members taps his shoulder. He glances at them impatiently, which the man thankfully doesn't take personally.

"They want some photos with you holding your trophy," he explains, handing a shirt and the star shaped interpretation of the Italian flag to Pierre. "It will only take a few minutes,  they promised not to keep you long."

Of course everyone knew exactly where your minds were. Sanity had long since left the premises, tangled up in crisp white sheets. Pierre's entire team and half the Red Bull garage had seen what had gone down while the prix winner was sprawled on that coffee table. There would be no chance of denying it in the morning. 

And while you'd never imagined that the first time you'd kiss your best friend would be directly preceded by licking copious amounts of shitty liquor off his super-heated skin, now that you'd experienced it any other way seems forgettable.

Pierre sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, I already have my trophy, but…" your stomach lurches when you realize he means you. Pierre catches the way your mouth hangs open and he shoots you a grin before accepting the real trophy.

"You carry it," he says, not giving you much of a choice as he thrusts it into your hands. "I'm occupied."

You're about to point out that his hands are, in fact, free and that the more likely reason for insisting you carry the trophy was his usual post-race laziness when he slings an arm around your shoulders and tucks you tight to his side.

"Is this okay?" Pierre asks when you involuntarily stiffen. God, it was more than okay, it was perfect, it had just caught you by surprise. You'd only kissed him a handful of minutes ago and Pierre was already wrapped around your finger, smitten as if you'd been a couple for years.

"Yeah no, it's perfect. Simply lovely," you say quickly, stumbling over your words.

"Can I kiss you again?"

Your answer comes in the form of a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. You prop the trophy on your hip and smile up at your race winner.

"You don't have to ask that ever again. My answer is always yes."

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