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daisies-daydreams · 7 months

Note

I really love your head cannons and stories of the guys from COD! Would it be possible to get Task Force+König x reader, on how they would go about flirting/courting us for the first time? With your preference on if reader is a medic, civilian, or soldier c:

Image/Header Source: Pexels

Pairing: 141/König x F!Reader Category: Fluff (w/ some angst) Warnings: Descriptions of Trust Issues, Mentions of Sex (nothing explicit) Word Count: 2.2k+

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for your sweet request. The reader's occupation varies between each man since I loved all three ideas of civilian/medic/soldier reader. I hope you enjoy! 🫶

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Rizz Master™️ (sorry not sorry)

He seems like a player, but he’s always, always respectful.

Johnny’s usually the one who initiates things. He’s also more of a playful flirt to the point that most people don’t take him seriously.

And I’m talking a habitual, relentless flirt. It’s just his personality and he does it sometimes without meaning to. (He accidentally lead a lot of people on without even realizing it).

But when he wants to get serious, he goes all in (this man can work a whole room if he wanted to I swear).

He met you when you started working as a bartender at a pub he frequented.

Both of you shared banter each time he’d come in (usually with a pretty little thing on his arm who’d question why he even brought them). It became so infamous that other frequent patrons would roll their eyes or shake their heads whenever he’d stop by for a drink.

He left his number on a napkin one time, which lead to the two of you starting to text (the banter continues).

I think his ultimately playful flirting is him testing the waters for some people to see if the chemistry works between the two of you before he gets serious.

You smiled and tossed the rag over your shoulder as one of the frequents to the pub, Johnny, strolled up the counter.

"Here comes trouble," one of the other patrons muttered before downing his drink.

“The usual for tonight, MacTavish?” you asked. He nodded as he gave you a smile, his sapphire eyes sparkling beneath the dim lighting of the pub.

“You know me well, my dear,” he said as he slid onto one of the bar stools. You returned his grin as you filled up a pint for him. You glanced over his shoulder, your cheeks heating up a little as you saw his muscular arms flex a little beneath black tank top. You shook your head and cleared your throat before handing him his drink.

“Thank you, Dolly,” he winked before taking a sip. You nodded before glancing around.

“No bird with you tonight, Johnny?” you asked with a raised brow as you dried one of the glasses. The man chuckled and shook his head.

“Nah…don’t need one when I have a perfect Bonnie right in front of me,” he suddenly uttered. You huffed out some laughter.

“Good one, Johnny,” you snickered as you put the glass away. Your face fell a bit when you turned and saw him wearing a more serious expression. He leaned forward a bit.

“How’s about I take ye out to dinner this weekend?” he asked with a warm smile.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Side note: Sam Roukin (Ghost’s VA) said that Ghost doesn’t date…so of course I have to incorporate it into this!

To say Simon has a lot of trust issues would be an understatement.

He definitely lingers in the pining stage for longer than most.

Flirting for sex is relatively easy for him, since he knows there's no real emotional attachment. It's quick and simple with little threat to emotional security.

Of course, that all crumbled when he met you, a new recruit to 141.

He swore his heart stopped when you walked into the room, your face littered with a few scars yet still resoundingly beautiful.

The way he felt scared him. Sure, he’s felt this kind of attraction before…but the unknowns of what life would look like with the two of you being involved made his heart sink and flutter all at once.

Simon would act professional at first, trying his best to not get too emotionally invested (“The two of us could die at any time, why even bother?” he’d tell himself).

He’d go all quiet when you started flirting with him, starting my with small jokes and quips until eventually he relented and joined in.

The more the two of you talked, the more relaxed he became. He’s still rather reserved when it comes to flirting (aside from the frequent dad jokes), but his feelings for you are so evident that not even his skull balaclava can hide it.

(He gets some advice from Johnny, wink wink).

You were making your bed in your quarters when you heard a knock on your door. You paused your music before walking over and turning the knob. You blinked when you saw Ghost standing in front of you with his hands behind his back, his dark eyes peering at you through his skull balaclava.

“What’s up, Lt?” you asked. He shuffled in place before clearing his throat.

“Well, I was just out for a walk and…got you these,” his voice drops a few octaves as he pulls his hands out from behind his back. The tips of your ears grew warm as he held a small bouquet of flowers out to you. “Simon Riley…are you asking me out on a date?” you asked as you crossed your arms. More chuckling was heard, causing the lieutenant to shoot a glare down the hall. He “coughed” into his hand.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he said, the stems of the flowers ready to snap in his deadly grip. You chuckled as you took the flowers before reaching up on your tiptoes. His eyes widened as you pressed a small peck to the side of his mask.

"I'd love to," you grinned. John Price

I’d say flirting with him looks more like two people having a conversation.

John’s had a few relationships in the past, though they’ve always fallen off due to his dedication to work.

Each one has left him more cynical than the last, his hope for finding someone who’d stay by his side dwindling little by little until he gave up completely.

And then, when he was out grocery shopping, he happened to come across a gorgeous cashier.

He gave you a warm smile as the two of you had some small talk, exchanging subtle glances as you checked out his items.

John noticed the lack of a wedding ring on your finger, though he quickly brushed the detail away as he thank you for your time and went on his way.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since then and would make “emergency” stops at the store on the days you would work. He didn’t care if he had to wait in line, he just wanted to see you again...

Your eyes lit up as John came up to you, giving you his typical, warm smile.

"Evenin' Miss (Y/N)," he said as he placed a small pack of toilet paper, bread, and eggs placed on the conveyor belt.

"Good to see you again, John," you smiled as you checked out the items. You noticed him shifting side to side, his eyes glancing up and down as you bagged his items.

"You gonna watch the game tonight?" you asked him. He nodded.

"Yeah," he replied, his body stiffening a little as he scratched his beard. You smiled as you rang him up.

“What about you, hun?" he asked. The tips of your ears burned as your throat tightened at the nickname. John’s eyes were wide as dinner plates as his lips fell into a straight line. He cleared his throat as he took the bag from you.

“Thank you,” he smiled.

"Of course. Have a good night," you grinned. John nodded, his feet still planted to the floor as he cleared his throat.

“When does your shift end?” he suddenly asked. The customer behind him scoffed and tapped their foot. You blinked before a sheepish smile crossed your face.

“In about fifteen minutes,” you replied. “Why?” you asked before biting your lip. John’s face softened as he grinned.

“Care to join me for a quick drink afterwards?” he asked. You parted your lips as the customer crossed their arms. You smiled.

“Meet me outside the doors in a bit,” you whispered. The hardened shell around his heart began to crack.

“Will do, love,” he replied with a warm smile.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

I can see him being a playful flirt as well, though he’s still a bit more reserved.

Like he knows how to pick up women and has had a few flings here and there, though nothing too serious.

Relationships honestly weren't at the forefront of his mind...until you were assigned as the medic for 141 (nicknamed Nightingale, though he’d always call you “Nighty”).

He still remembers the first time you patched him up after a mission where he nearly bit the dust. His feelings for you have only grown since then.

Absolutely smitten, that lad is. (Sometimes he’d even pretend to feel sick just so he could be around you!).

Kyle’s noticeably a lot more excitable and talkative with you compared to the rest of the team. He honestly can’t hide how he feels about you...and it’s adorable.

"Good to see you again, Garrick," you grinned as you opened the door to your office. Kyle reflected your smile before stepping inside and taking off his cap. You closed the door behind him as he sat on the examination table across from you. "So, what brings you in today?" you asked as you clicked your pen. Kyle rubbed the back of his head.

"I've been feeling kind of feverish for the past few days," he said. You glanced up and pursed your lips.

"That so?" you asked as you pulled out a thermometer. He nodded as he leaned his hands against the edge of the table. "Funny, you said the same thing last week," you added as you stuck the instrument against his forehead. His eyes widened as he parted his lips.

"Well, it's a very persistent one," he shrugged. You raised a brow as you looked at his temperature.

"Mhm," you clicked your tongue. "You know if you wanted to ask me out, you didn't have to be on death's doorstep," you giggled. Kyle's breath audibly hitched as you rested your hands on your hips.

"Alright, you've got me," he sighed. You chuckled and shook your head as you put the thermometer away.

"So...are you free this Friday ?" he asked.

König

I see him being the most reserved out of all of these men.

Don’t get me wrong, he knows how to talk to women, it’s just that his quiet nature/intimidating stature tends to scare people off.

So when you came with him on a KorTac mission, he was instantly shocked when you came up and started talking to him.

Did a little head shake/double take before engaging in the conversation.

You know how onions have layers? So does König. He’s rather blunt but still polite while you’re getting acquainted, but he slowly starts to soften his voice a little the more you talk.

Takes a while to peel back the layers one by one, but (like Ghost) the more you get to know him, the more comfortable he becomes around you.

I can see him giving gifts as his love language. Since he doesn’t prefer to talk that much, he’ll leave small hand-written cards if you were on base or bring you candy if he went on a separate mission.

I just picture him being like a big cat: leaves small gifts, quiet yet also affectionate.

All in all it takes a while before he finally asks you out, but when he does, he makes it count.

“Where are you taking me, Colonel?” you asked as you walked through the bustling streets of the city. You were on a mission in König’s home country, making him eager to take you to a “pit stop” on your way to the safe house.

“You’ll see soon enough, Hase,” he replied [Bunny]. He wasn’t wearing his mask, his ginger hair blowing in the wind as he looked forward. The scar across the bridge of his nose wrinkled as he sniffed the air. You sniffed as well, the smell of fresh chocolate filling your nose. Your eyes widened as you approached a shop nearby. The corners of König’s icy blue eyes crinkled as he held the door open for you, a gust of warm, sweet air falling over you.

“After you,” he motioned inside. You beamed up at him before stepping inside, your eyes widening at the sight of rows and rows of chocolate.

“Guten tag!” one of the workers, a young brunette woman, chirped behind the counter [Good afternoon!]. Their expression shifted a little as König stepped up behind you. He said something in German, prompting her to scurry and grab a box. You spun around a few times, causing a deep chuckle to rise from his chest.

“I know you said you enjoyed the chocolates I always bring you…so I figured why not stop at one of the best in the world?” he said. He gasped when you wrapped your arms around his torso, your face nuzzling into his side.

“Thank you,” you smiled. König nodded before patting your side, his mind and heart overwhelmed with the sudden affection. The worker returned with a box full of chocolate before she gave a small “aww”.

“So ein süßes Paar!” she beamed [Such a sweet couple!]. König cleared his throat as you pulled back.

“What did she say?” you asked. He remained stiff as he paid for the sweets and handed you the box.

“Nothing important,” he replied…though deep inside, he hoped that someday it would be true.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999

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asprinbrews · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1: Welcome home.

-Wally Darling + Reader

———

It was a day like any other.

Eat, sleep, work, rinse, repeat.

I’m not sure what happened between 17 and 18, but whatever it was sucked the life out of me. And as my Uber took me home on that late Friday night, the whole world flashed by my head like a shooting star. Sitting good and quiet. I noticed my fingernails overgrown, and how dry and cracked my skin was. Like one of those nightmares where your teeth fall out, except my disfigurement was very real.

But what to do? You don’t cure your funk in a night. I had to take a few nights, maybe call in sick. If I got fired for this it’d be a problem.

No. No, I had to stop thinking. It’s not my problem tonight, I reassured myself. So arriving home and settling in, I planned on completely disconnecting. And I engaged in…a guilty pleasure.

My body ached as I pulled out the VHS player, sending dust down my crusty airways. Along came my favorite tape.

The title’d long worn off, but it didn’t matter. It was the only one I kept.

And so I sunk beneath my comforter, biting back my anxiety and letting the fuzz lull in time with my breathing.

Unfortunately I didn’t make it through the intro credits. I never did nowadays.

—

“What’re we s’posed to do about this?!?!”

A squeaky quirky voice pinched my ears between fog and drowsiness, and I felt as a circular object tapped the tip of my nose.

“They aren’t wakin up, Franky!! I’m scared!”

A deep grunt contrasted her whining, “I…” he seemed at a loss for words; I then felt the thing bump me again. A loud wailing followed, which showered an…insane amount of tears onto my face. That was when I finally had the gall to snap my eyes open.

Screaming above me was a big-mouthed girl with big blonde hair, I saw her first. Her colorful clothing fading into the distance as she ran like the devil. And then the other…

Me and Frank blinked slowly at one another. Quietly. A dapper-dressed man with proportions stranger than the girl’s personality. A gray face full of concern and just a little disgust. Like he was looking at a dead body.

I didn’t move, but I eyed the world around me carefully. And for a second I was worried that I had a concussion; the grass, the sky… everything had an antique-like tint to it. And it felt wrong.

“Are you feeling okay?” Like he’d snapped back to reality the man crouched down beside me and dropped his net. I noticed a small bug sit inside it calmly…much unlike a butterfly. “Oh- yes, I’m okay. I’m just…” I scanned the area again, “I’m not sure how I got here.”

“Can you stand up?” He asked, and I pushed myself off the ground. “I’m going to walk you to the neighborhood… we’ll get you some help there.”

The neighborhood? Why did that sound so familiar? “The neighborhood… alright.”

He walked ahead of me, checking back every couple of seconds to make sure I was still behind him.

How did I get here…? More importantly, I had work. I had to get to a phone, as quickly as possible. “Your name’s Frank, right?”

He gasped softly, “how’d you know?”

“I heard it earlier. I’m guessing Franky isn’t your preferred name.”

“Right, right.”

…

“Do you have a phone I could borrow?”

“Heavens no, not right now. Those are far too big to carry around.” He replied, and then it was quiet again.

I noted him down as awkward, which was fine. I was a stranger, anyways. And I probably looked like death. Eventually though we came across houses, and he brought me straight to a big red barn.

Looking it up and down, I was skeptical. But out came whiffs of smells. Baking smells. The kind where you’re not sure if you’re smelling bread, fruit, or pure sugar. Seeing the bird that hussled out in front of us though I started to understand pretty quickly.

Before I had the chance to say anything she was all over me: lifting my arms, pinching my face, and squawking on in a shrill voice. How my face was so pale, my eyebags so big, my posture terrible. “Frank! Where did you find this one?? They look dead! The walking dead! Dead but walking!” Then she sat me down onto a haybale, holding my face in her wings. “Stop walking! You’re going to die!”

I couldn’t see over her big rainbow feathers but I could tell he was just as overwhelmed by this lady as I was. “Excuse me ma’am…” I croaked, “can I…”

She craned her head towards me as I asked, “can I borrow your phone…?”

The chicken loomed over me in a dead silence before I found myself dragged inside and nearly force-fed a multitude of different pastries, which I then tried to pay for. Unsurprisingly this earned another shriek. “What kind of money is this??? Where did you come from??”

“My house! I came from my house!” Like a hostage I lifted my hands up in surrender, and I’d expected another argument from her. But…no. Something clicked behind her eyes, and without speaking she disappeared and returned with a plate.

A plate of apple crisp.

I knew it as soon as I smelled it, feeling my eyes widen as the aroma hit my nose. Like a faint memory, nostalgia panged through my chest and reverberated like a brand new heartbeat as I took that first bite. Marveling in sweet fruit nestled under a warm blanket of thick brown sugar.

Once it was over with I was going to ask- except she’d already disappeared to her phone. A landline. Busy feathered fingers nervously fiddling with the curly wire, I caught bits and pieces of her loud voice. Concerned, suddenly frantic! Then quiet. I leaned in over the table to hear more but then was met with a shriek. “My goodness! Your clothes are getting in your pie!”

Indeed, looking down I realized I’d leaned so far over the table that I’d begun to crush the pastry. Leaving a dark stain on my T-shirt. The bird rushed around and started trying to wrestle it off of me— “No, hey!!” We struggled with the article, she shouted “I need to wash it! Come now!”

“What on earth is going on!?” Gray hands forced us apart and Frank pushed the bird lady for an answer while I caught my breath and smoothed my clothing.

“Look at them! They got their shirt all dirty, I was only trying to wash it.” She huffed, to which Frank pinched his brow with concern. “Polly… that’s beyond impolite!”

“It’s just Y/N!”

The man double-taked for a moment, slowly turning to me then raising a hand skeptically. “No, no… that can’t be right. They’re a lot smaller than that.”

“That’s what I thought!” Polly said, “but look at that face! And you know they loved my apple crisp! It has to be!”

I stood frazzled in front of them as they marveled, “did you just say… my name?”

Slowly stepping forward, Frank reached out as the bird suddenly rushed me. She hovered over me and ripped off my shirt with such momentum to tear the neckline. My arms rushed to cover my body in shock while the grey man swiveled to face the other direction. He shouted, “well they’re far too old for that!”

“Po.. Polly!” But she didn’t seem to hear me, sauntering off to a wash bucket and beginning to soak it. She waved a feather, “now then, go play! I’ll take care of this.”

I felt heat rise to my face, in disbelief at this woman. First she feeds me, then tears my clothes off?? “I’m so confused! And half-naked!” Crying out, even Frank seemed at a loss. He didn’t look and made his way to the door, “I’ll- I’ll find you something to wear! Stay right there!”

So there I was, half-naked in a barn-themed bakery waiting for either Frank to come back or Polly to be done with my shirt. I’d given in at that point. Notably despite Polly being a bird, she was really sentient. I saw other chickens but she was different. At least Frank resembled a man… but she was a straight up chicken.

Then a slow, steady knock came. The barn grew quiet, and it’s large doors creaked open. Standing in the center a silhouette of someone. His voice broke the silence, soft and calm if not monotonous.

“Aw Gee… it has been a very long time, Y/N.”

————-

<a/n>

Hi! Hope you enjoyed the first installment. This is mostly a comfort character series, so things between Wally and reader won’t get very romantic. Still! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. Feel free to ask me questions or give me ideas, since this is in progress!

Bye now! You are the absolute most!

#wally darling #welcome home #welcome home wally #wally darling x reader #yandere wally darling #welcome home fanfiction

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meameagirl · 1 year

Text

Music | Patrick Mahomes x Reader

Summary: Just before the game you see Patrick by himself listening to music and smiling.

word count: 629

Warning: None

--------------------

You and a few cheerleaders got to the Nissan Stadium in Nashville a few hours early before the game started between the Chiefs and the Titans.

You were always an early bird when it came to the important things. Like cheering for the team you have always been a fan of. Thank your dad for moving to Kansas City when you were ten.

You and the girls were practicing the cheers that y’all was doing for today's game in a few hours. Y’all been at it for at least a good hour. When you finally think it time for a good break.

“Okay girls, y’all can keep at it but I need a good few minutes break.” They all nod at you as you walk off to grab your bottle of water.

While taking a sip of your water you notice one the player was sitting on the other side of the field listening to music and watching the cheerleaders doing their thing.

When you look at the person well, you realize it was Patrick Mahomes. He was almost like you. An early bird when it comes to important things. And for him. Every game is important.

You look over at the girls before looking back at him. Finally you think “Might as well, me and him never really talk.” After you walk over to him.

It didn’t take him long before he noticed you walking to him. He smiled at you and nodded his head. Gosh does he have to have the perfect smile.

When you got in front of him, he pulls his headphones on his neck. “Hello Miss Sunshine. Why are you here at almost nine in the morning!” You only roll your eyes.

You say next to him. “You know Mahomes, I could ask you the same question.” He chucked. “Please call me Patrick, we are not strangers.” The time he does speak to you, he is always nice and for some reason he doesn't like us calling him by his last name.

You look down and see his phone in his hands. You point at it. “What are you listening to?” He looks down at it before looking at you. “Come find out.”

He moves close to you and puts his headphones on your head. You look over at him. As he pressed the play button. And the song that was playing was My Moment by DJ Drama.

You let out a giggle as he smiled. You remember him saying once during an interview what songs he listened to before a game and this one was one of them he said.

You pull the headphones off and set them on your lap. “Is this a song that gets you pumped up before a game?” He locked his phone. “It is one of them, I have a few but this one I always come back to. What about you Sunshine?”

You think for a few minutes before shrugging. To be honest I don’t really know. Most of the time , a random song comes on and I just listen to that before we go out and cheer.”

Before any of y’all could say someone one the girls come over. “Y/n break time is over. We need to get this right before the game.” You only nod as she walks away.

He looks at her before looking at you. “I guess that it's time to go back and work huh.” You move his headphones and get up. “Sadly yes, you are not the only one who works hard Mahomes.”

After you walk off you hear him yell. “Call me Patrick!!” You let a giggle out before jogging over to the girls. The rest of practice you noticed someone was watching and you knew it was him.

--------------------

I got this idea from the gif and I just had to write it out!! Hope y’all enjoy it!!

#patrick mahomes #patrick mahomes x reader #Patrick Mahomes x you #Mahomes #quarterback #15 #patrick mahomes imagine #nfl #nfl imagine #nfl fan fic #kansas city cheifs #cheifs #Kansas city #football #footbal imagine

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

remus lupin x animagus!reader

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢, 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠

summary: remus craves your touch and he knows you’d do anything for him, which is why he refuses to be with you. your affection spark nasty rumors from the slytherins.

notes: angst, fluff, a few slut shaming comments (will be expanded upon in later chapters), tw//the slug club :/

w/c: 5.7k

ﾟ⋆☾*･ﾟ.・。.*゜✭・･ﾟ✫・⋆。.

as if you were a mythical thing, like you were a trophy or a champion ring; if there was one prize, i'd cheat to win.

you and the girls had nice, established saturday mornings. dorcas, the natural early bird, woke up at seven without fail. lily, the overachiever, followed at seven thirty. mary began to stir around eight, and lily and dorcas would shake you and marlene awake no later than eight thirty.

you’d get ready together—you and marlene were always sluggish and slow in the mornings—and head down for breakfast around nine twenty. you always had a coffee, marlene and dorcas shared a pot of chamomile, lily liked earl grey, and mary liked experimenting with flavors. (she was currently enjoying matcha.)

marlene and dorcas would most likely sneak off somewhere, leaving you, lily, and mary to entertain yourselves. if the day was nice, you’d kill a few hours by the black lake. if the weather was poor, you’d get a head start on homework or wander the common room. you liked your saturday routine.

today was very different.

“mr. lupin is not taking visitors at this time, thank you very much,” madam promfrey quipped, sounding not at all apologetic. “please return at…” she checked her wristwatch. “this evening. preferably tomorrow afternoon.”

james batted his eyelashes. “c’mon, madam pomfrey. we’re regulars! you can’t make an exception for your favorite patients?”

madam pomfrey narrowed her eyes at him. “yes, because treating reckless quidditch players after every match is my favorite passtime.” she sighed, turning her head to hide how her lips quirked upwards. “fine, you may have ten- twenty minutes. but i’m being very generous, and reserve the right to kick you out at any time. alright?”

you and the marauders nodded enthusiastically. madam pomfrey waved you over to a curtain-covered bed, where remus’ hoarse grumbles could be heard.

“lukewarm water… can’t even read… so behind on potions… complete fool…”

“moony!” peter exclaimed, whipping away the curtain and jumping into a starfish-like position in front of remus, who jumped.

“pe- wormtail?” he stammered. “prongs? padfoot? hopper?”

“gee, don’t look so happy to see us. you might overexert yourself,” you teased, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. you took his hand, which was cold and beginning to crack from dryness. you frowned, glancing over at madam pomfrey, who looked busy shuffling through loose parchment.

“how are you?” james whispered. “after… y’know.”

remus snorted. “y’don’t have to whisper. pomfrey knows.”

“ah, forgot about that.” james scratched his jaw. “my question still stands, though. how y’feeling?”

“as well as one can feel after breaking most of their bones and transforming into a class five monster, i suppose.” remus licked his chapped lips. his undereyes were dark—an unusual sight—and his voice raspy from all the howling he’d done last night. he didn’t seem tired in the sleepy way; rather, worn down. “i’m just sick of this stupid bed. i’m fine. i’ve done this my whole life. i hate being here while everyone treats me like porcelain; like they pity me. and it’s boring.”

sirius furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “i don’t pity you, moony. in fact, i take great pleasure in kicking you when you’re already down. for example,” sirius cleared his throat dramatically, “let’s discuss last night, shall we?”

you glanced around the room. “muffliato,” you murmured. “yeah, we were right. i wouldn’t trust sirius with any secrets.”

sirius glared at you and returned to his story. “apparently, my kisses are not appreciated by a certain rabbit, but snot is fine? i see how it is.”

you looked at your feet. remus became defensive. “i do not have snot!”

james looked at sirius knowingly. “yes, you do. it was dripping out of your nose, mate. you fell asleep and i swear, there was a puddle of wet stuff underneath you. horrid, i tell you.” james pretended to shiver.

remus quickly changed the subject. “how’d you all leave in time?”

“peter,” you all chorused. you tilted your head towards the bashful boy. “again, peter’s the most responsible one when you’re not here. he bit us until we woke up and we snuck out before sunrise. you were already asleep then.”

“wait, so did you four get any sleep last night?”

james pursed his lips. “hopper did… and- and sirius power-napped?”

remus looked at you all disappointedly. peter jumped in. “in my defense, i was a rat surrounded by giants! excluding you, hopper. it’s not exactly easy to fall asleep knowing you could be accidentally trampled and killed!”

you pointed at peter in agreement. “see? see? nobody’s scared of you, moony. we’re scared of james’ nonexistent coordination.”

remus cracked a smile.

james was offended. “excuse me? you’re talking to the best chaser in gryffindor history, here! i’ve got a bloody plaque and everything!”

as peter and sirius laughed, you turned to remus and the two of you exchanged a quiet moment. “how are you, really?” you mouthed.

“‘m alright, i promise,” remus’ lips twitched before falling into a frown. he winced. it seemed as if the corners of his mouth were beginning to bleed.

you gasped. “merlin, you’re bleeding! let me get some salve or something, stay right there.”

remus chuckled. “i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

you hurried over to madam pomfrey, practically sliding on the tiled floor in your frenzy. “madam pomfrey, do you have any salve? remus’ hands are all cracked and his lips are beginning to bleed,” you huffed.

madam pomfrey blinked at you and remained silent for a second, before shaking her head clear and digging through a messy medicine cabinet. she held up a small jar labelled “BALM” and placed it in your hand. “it’s my own recipe. very effective.”

you thanked her graciously, and as you rushed back to remus, you could feel her eyes on your back, almost like she was judging you.

“rem, you’re bleeding! did you not notice?” you gushed, unscrewing the “balm” and sticking two fingers into it, scoping out a generous amount of the thick paste and grabbing remus’ hand.

remus’ chest shook with laughter as he watched you fret over him with more care than he’d give to himself. you kneeled down beside him, laying his hand on top of his leg gently, so you could rub the salve into his broken skin.

“rem, i’m serious. why don’t-”

“no, i’m sirius,” sirius interjected, laughing at his own wit. peter chuckled weakly. james didn’t speak, too busy watching you and remus interact.

“-why don’t you take care of yourself more? look, your skin is all dry and cracked. do you have eczema?”

“what’s eczema?” james’ head perked up. “is it a disease? is it contagious?”

peter sighed. “no, it’s a skin condition. it’s when you have dry patches or rashes and no, james, it’s not contagious.”

james sighed in relief.

you and remus were still in your quiet bubble. “i dunno, hopper,” remus mumbled, his eyes fixed on your careful fingers as they moved across the palms of his hands in small swirls, like young, sprightly dancers across an old theater’s well-worn stage. “all the little stuff was kinda forgotten after… y’know. i got bitten. eczema was the least of my worries.” remus laughed dryly, coughing slightly from the effort.

“have you had water? remus, you’ve got to take better care of yourself,” you chided. there was a glass of water on the table beside him, and you adjusted the straw so remus could drink while lying down. remus waved your hand away, pushing himself up into a seated position, much to your disapproval. he looked you firmly in the eye as he took the straw out of the cup, and made a big show of drinking normally.

you bit back a smile at his stubbornness. remus smiled too, the corners of his mouth stretching and pulling too tightly. you placed your hands on remus’ cheeks, willing them into a loose position. going back for more balm, you rubbed your fingers together so the heat of your hands would melt the paste into something thin enough to spread.

“i- i’m going to touch your lips now, if that’s okay,” you breathed, suddenly hyperaware of your compromised position. you were eye level with his chest. “is this alright?” you murmured, sitting yourself on the edge of his bed once more and turning your torso in line with his. you were now eye level, so you could reach the skin on his face more easily.

“yeah, i- it’s okay,” remus dipped his head in affirmation, swallowing thickly. you watched, mesmerized, as his adam’s apple bobbed, and you had to tear your gaze away in favor of the salve on your hand.

“okay, just- um, sit still, please.” your finger was wobbly as it inched closer to remus’ face, and you prayed he wouldn’t notice. you found yourself leaning closer, your free hand coming up to cup his jaw; you felt the growing stubble scratch your palm. oh, how torturous it was to be so close to him, to run your fingers over the lips you’d desperately craved for three years, only to stop yourself from kissing him. he was hurt, and all you could think about was your unrealistic indulgences. you knew remus would never be so selfish.

remus had closed his eyes. you felt like you were taking advantage of him, in some way, by slowing down the movement of your fingers so you could take a couple more seconds to memorize his face. the cluster of freckles under his eyes, the little bump on his nose, the curve of his eyebrows that seemed to twitch with each of your touches, the scars across his cheek that you longed to touch and worship and love…

“okay! okay, i’m all done!” you blurted. you’d recoiled as soon as you found your thoughts drifting into dangerous territory. you smiled awkwardly at him. “sorry about that.” your face scrunched.

remus’ eyes seemed to bore into yours, like he knew what you were thinking. wordlessly, he smoothed out the anxious wrinkles on your face, a content calmness washing over his face as soon as he saw you untense. you prayed that he couldn’t feel your face burning up.

“you could give madam pomfrey a run for her money.” sirius broke the silence, making both you and remus jump.

peter glanced over his shoulder and found madam ponfrey deeply invested in her work. “it’s definitely been more than 20 minutes. y’reckon we should just stay until she kicks us out?”

“duh.” james rolled his eyes. “that way, evans won’t force me to do my homework.”

remus looked much better by monday. you would occasionally glance over at him, but only because you were worried about his dry skin. you’d convinced madam pomfrey to let you take the rest of the balm, and now you would force remus to apply it at least three times a day. he didn’t object, much to your surprise.

“can you drop it?” reamus threw an arm over his eyes as peter and james prattled on about the importance of stretching and peter’s father’s muggle pilates class that had done wonders for his flexibility. after seeing remus bedridden from a transformation, their concern and caring nature only multiplied.

“okay, but get this. muggles go to this person called a chiropractor, and they pay the chiropracter to break their bones!” james’ eyes were wide with wonder.

“no, james. they crack their bones,” peter corrected.

“i know! that’s wild, right? i think it could be good for you.” james patted remus on the shoulder. “if not, you should look into cupping therapy. it’s an asian practice; it’s worked for centuries! oh! oh! or, you could-”

remus groaned. “seriously, i’m fine. thanks, though.”

you sat on his bed beside him; the two of you preferred watching peter and james’ antics from a distance. you moved closer to remus, the mattress shifting under your weight.

“hey, i know you’re kind of sick of us worrying about you, but will you at least let me do the balm for you? it’s just that i-”

“yes, yes, please do.” remus interrupted. his eyes widened as if he hadn’t meant to say anything. “i mean, yes, that’s okay. i’m okay with that.”

you tried to hide your giddiness as you pulled the balm from the pocket of your robes (you’d taken to carrying it around wherever you went) and followed the routine you and remus had fallen into. he’d hold out his hand, you’d take it and apply the balm, and he’d squeeze your hand and you’d probably look up at him, all flustered, and he’d probably look down at you, all flustered, and you’d probably stay there for a moment before letting go of each others’ hands, all flustered.

you hated how much of an effect he had on you. you prided yourself on being collected and consistent and confident, but he seemed to shatter every one of your walls with just one look. and you hated yourself for never being able to stick around whenever he saw past one of your acts. when he’d ask you what was wrong, or if you were okay, or if you needed to talk, you’d always plaster this stupid smile on and brush him off.

but sometimes you weren’t okay. sometimes, your mind raced with thoughts of the war, and concerns about remus’ lycanthropy, and what would happen to him as not only a half-blood but a werewolf, and what would happen to you as a muggle born, and what would happen to the two of you if you ended up tog-

you didn’t want to burden remus with such things, so you didn’t. you didn’t want to burden anyone with such trivial worries, so you didn’t. that was something you liked about yourself: you cared about your friends enough to make sure they didn’t have to fall into your pits of distress because you never tied them down with anchors. you made sure that they could sail freely.

so there went the routine. you dropped remus’ hand and busied yourself with screwing the cap back on, and you could feel remus’ eyes on the crown of your head as you ducked down and tried to avoid his gaze.

“what’re you two up to now?” sirius leaned on the doorframe, taking in the scene before him.

“you’re back!” you jumped from remus’ bed and ran towards sirius, enveloping him into a big hug. sirius laughed, reciprocating. he lifted you from the ground and swayed you back and forth enthusiastically, much to your glee.

“i’m back!” he boomed. “good godric, i think i’d rather kiss my mother than take another detention with binns.”

“you’re back,” remus grumbled, suddenly sullen. peter and sirius exchanged the same knowing look that they had been for weeks now.

peter waggled his eyebrows at sirius, and james, for once, caught on. james stifled a laugh. “i never noticed, but you and padfoot look really good together,” he commented nonchalantly.

“yeah?” sirius raised a brow. “d’you think so, dove?” he lowered you to the ground and looked down at you questioningly.

“erm, what?” you smiled thinly. “like, as a couple?”

“yeah,” peter agreed, “i could totally see it. you’re both… uh…” peter struggled to find traits that the two of you had in common. you and sirius more so balanced each other out rather than complimented each other.

“you’re both beautiful!” janes shouted. “suuuper handsome. real lookers, you two.”

remus turned away from james and peter’s terrible matchmaking and settled for shuffling his feet back and forth on the floor. he tried not to tap; you always knew something was up when he tapped. he wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated.

“thanks, james.” you squinted. “are you guys okay? you’re being really weird.”

“all good!” james fumbled. “i just got excited about… the two of you, s’all.”

“oh, i know! you’re both really stubborn,” peter blurted.

you looked at sirius, confused. sirius shrugged.

“alright, you’ve officially lost it. sirius and i?” you wrinkled your nose at him.

sirius laughed in agreement. “we’d never work. i’m too ravishingly gorgeous and effortlessly charismatic for hopper. she’d blind herself trying to admire my radiance, and we don’t want that, do we?”

“for your information, sirius, i’m way out of your league. resort to your flowery language if you must, but i don’t need to prove my worth. it speaks for itself,” you humphed, sticking your chin up theatrically.

remus grinned, hiding it under his tilted face.

“alright, i’m officially done here. goodbye, marauders!” you called from over your shoulder as you scurried down the spiral staircase.

“goodbye marauder, singular!” james shouted after you.

peter looked at remus smugly. “y’good, moony? or is your skin acting up? should we apply some more balm for you?”

“yeah, y’look a little off, mate. s’everything alright?” james pitched in.

“i’m fine,” remus snapped.

“are you sure? you seem… upset,” sirius probed, inching closer.

“i’m not upset!” remus insisted. “i’m completely fine, see?” he lifted his head up and it was comically obvious that he was upset. his eyebrows were pinched and his cheeks slightly flushed.

“okay, okay! you’re not upset. would you say that you’re… jealous?” sirius grinned.

“i don’t know what you mean.”

“oh c’mon,” james whined, throwing himself backwards onto remus’ bed. “we all know you like her.”

“i- i don’t know who you’re talking about,” remus stammered.

peter clicked his tongue. “has anyone told you you’re a shit liar, moony?”

“oh, sod off, would’ya?”

“moony’s jealous! moony’s jealous!” james and sirius cheered, watching as remus’ ears began to turn red. “oooo, you so like her,” james teased.

“i do not!”

sirius shook his finger at remus. “aha! so there is a her!”

“no! i mean, i just-”

“mate, she obviously likes you back. she’s confessed her love to you at least twice now. i dunno what you’re doing, but whatever it is, stop.” peter crossed his arms, disappointed at his friend.

remus tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “it doesn’t matter if she likes me back, i don’t want to be with her.”

“why?” james yelled, absolutely horrified.

“that makes no sense!” sirius gasped, baffled.

“you dimwit!” peter scoffed.

“because she’s… she’s her, and i’m me!” remus snarled, whipping his head around to face his three meddlesome friends. “don’t you understand? i’m- i’m going to spend the rest of my life trapped by this damn condition and she’s been through one transformation with me and- and do you see how much she’s been struggling? she’s not been sleeping or eating properly; she’s constantly chasing me and she won’t let me bloody help her. i just know she’d spend the rest of her life trying to fix me but i can’t be fixed and i won’t let her waste her life tied down by someone like me!”

the marauders were silent.

“what do you mean, ‘someone like you?’” sirius croaked.

remus exhaled shakily. “a monster, sirius. she deserves so much more than a monster.”

monday potions with the slytherins was surprisingly your favorite class. you were good at potions, and as long as you sat near the front, you wouldn’t have to deal with the nastier specimens. today was no exception. you and lily—the two of you were almost always partners—were all the way up front, and early as well.

there were still a few minutes until class started and slughorn had not yet arrived. you and lily were sifting through your satchels for quills and parchment while you chatted.

“so where were you last saturday?” lily smoothed out her parchment with concentration.

“uh, mo- remus had a cold, so i went to check on him,” you lied smoothly.

“oh, remus had a cold, now did he?” lily didn’t look at you, but you could hear the teasing in her voice.

“yes, remus had a cold. and being the considerate and polite friend that i am, i went to check on him,” you stated plainly.

lily hummed questioningly. “let’s say i believe you—in terms of the friend bit, i mean. why haven’t i seen you all weekend? surely, you haven’t been sleeping over in the hospital wing. and you don’t seem very sick to me.”

“i-” you coughed. “i’ve been… busy.”

it was a flimsy lie, and you both knew it. lily sighed, tutting at your secretive behavior. “alright then, whatever you say. now, i have to fill you in on-”

“look, there’s two of ‘em!” mulciber’s crass voice interrupted you and lily’s peaceful conversation.

you rolled your eyes, resigning yourself to lining up your quill and parchment so they were perfectly parallel.

“the prude and the slut!” somebody laughed, their identity lost underneath the layer of chittering students who began to flood into the classroom.

you looked over at lily, examining her reaction. her eyebrows, thin and straight, twitched noticably. you watched as she pursed her lips momentarily before pulling them into a strained smile. “like i was saying, i’ve got to fill you in on mary’s minstrations at lunch.”

you smiled warmly at her. lily wore her heart on her sleeve unabashedly, and you were always better at hiding your feelings. that’s why people flocked to you for comfort, you assumed.

“hello, lovely ladies!” sirius suavely sat behind you, resting his elbows on the desk and propping his head up. “what a beautiful morning it is, but not quite as beautiful as you two,” he flirted.

you pinched his cheek. “hey, gorgeous,” you purred, looking him up and down. “i could say the same to you.”

remus slid into the seat beside sirius, smiling stiffly at you and raising his hand in greeting.

“oh! hi, remus!” you were caught off guard and your voice was pitched higher than normal. you cleared your throat. “i mean, hi.”

remus looked around nervously. “yeah. hi.”

“GOOD MORNING!” slughorn boomed, somehow even more passionate than usual. there were a few murmurs of “good morning” and other halfhearted greetings, though slughorn wasn’t at all put off by the lack of enthusiasm.

“is it just me, or has he lost it?” you heard james whisper to peter from beside you.

“has he ever had it?” peter rebuked, making you chuckle under your breath. lily looked over at you questioningly. you waved it off.

“as you all know, your o.w.l.s. are coming up, which is why the rest of our classes this year will be dedicated to content review.”

the class groaned.

“however!” slughorn beamed. “this year’s examinations will focus primarily on brewing and less on history, which means i will be making all essays worth a quarter less.

“instead, we will be focusing on more challenging in-class potions in partners. now, i understand that you’ve all been allowed to choose partners in the past; however, to ensure that your brewing capabilities are not dependent on a certain partner,” slughorn looked at avery and crouch in the back, “i will be randomly assigning different partners for each class.

“today, we will be brewing the wit-sharpening potion—godric knows some of you need it,” slughorn muttered, “and these will be the pairs:

“evans and pettigrew, potter and crouch…” james’ head fell to his hands in defeat.

“longbottom and mckinnon, y/n and snape…”

the four marauders and whipped their heads to you in mortification. lily saw their expressions and rolled her eyes. she patted your arm reassuringly. “aw, sev’s not so bad. he’s great at potions; you’ll be such a fantastic team!”

you smiled painfully at lily, nodding along. “yeah, i bet. thanks, lily.”

“…let’s get moving, folks! the group with the best potion will be exempt from the 3 page essay for homework.”

your eyes widened. you really wanted that exemption.

“severus!” you called out meekly. “hey, it’s good to see you… again.” the last time you’d seen snape was when he’d come looking for lily only to walk in on a conversation which mainly consisted of you airing out your distaste for the boy.

“do not call me severus.”

“a- alright then!” you tried your best to be optimistic. “shall i get the ingredients, or would you like to?”

“i’ll get them,” snape scowled. he dropped his voice to a bitter hiss.“i can’t deal with another incompetant muggle-born messing things up.”

you raised your eyebrows but remained silent. there was a time and place for picking fights, and it would do no good to sacrifice your potions grade over some carbon copy blood supremacist. plus, a bad grade would only fuel the misconception that muggle-borns were less capable.

snape returned, handling the ingredients like they were precious. “you can boil the water.” snape didn’t spare you a glance before beginning to cut up the ginger root. his cuts were slow and measuredd; snape sat back and examined his work smugly. when you glanced over at his handiwork, you scoffed.

“it doesn’t matter how carefully you cut the ginger,” you sighed in disapproval, “if the pieces aren’t even.” you held up the two slices he’d cut, holding them in the air next to each other. “see, this one has a bump, which probably adds two or three grams. just because they’re the same length doesn’t mean they’re the same volume.”

snape narrowed his eyes at you. “do you really think i would’ve missed that? you’re not better than me. keep your little comments to yourself.”

you glared at him. “sure. why don’t you run and grab a scale, snape, and we’ll inspect your work.”

you were right: snape had cut the ginger pieces unevenly. you didn’t bother rubbing it in, knowing that just being proven wrong was a blow to his ego enough.

snape dropped the trimmed pieces into the cauldron and the two of you admired the nice green that the potion changed to. snape, who liked to remain emotionless, seemed to be surprised. you cheered internally. last class, slughorn had told snape his potion coloration was slightly dull. if it hadn’t been for your advice, this potion would’ve ended up the same way.

“armadillo bile,” you read off from the blackboard. “you can do that, if you want. i’ll prepare the scarab beetles.”

snape agreed, much to your surprise. you could hear snide comments from the back of the room emerge and snape’s willing compliance.

“taking orders from a mudblood, is he?”

“he’s such a humiliation.”

“dear salazar, bella would throw a fit if she was here.”

you paid them no mind. in fact, you found yourself enjoying the slytherins’ belittling of snape. they truly were gryffindor’s opposites; no loyalty to their follow housemates.

grinding the scarab beetles turned out to be an effective stress reliever. you fell into a comfortable rhythm with old mortar and pestle, almost missing the look remus flashed at you.

you caught his eye before he could look away, and remus mouthed, “how’s it going?”

you gave him an exaggerated look of distress in response. he covered his mouth, but you watched as his eyes turned into little crescent moons, indicating his laughter. you bit back a smile.

“quit whoring around with the half-blood,” snape spat. he eyed the powdered beetle shells disdainfully, and snatched the mortar from your hands. “merlin, you’re useless.”

you let snape sprinkle in the powder and from the corner of your eye, watched as he added more armadillo bile. you were reoccupied with watching the back of remus’ head as he bent over his steaming cauldron. remus waved a hand in front of his face to fan the steam from his eyes. his partner, mary, was giggling. their hands brushed as they both reached for more ginger root, and you found yourself tensing up.

“since you’re so particular about it, why don’t you cut up the rest of the ginger?” snape jeered, sliding the knife towards your side of the desk. you barely looked up before you began to cut. you could feel snape’s watchful gaze boring holes into your hands as he searched for any reason to ridicule you, but your hands were steady. you were confident in your potion-making abilities, and it showed.

“here,” you held out four nearly identical slices of ginger root to snape, and he picked them up from your palms delicately as if the slightest touch or brush over your skin would burn him like acid.

the potion turned a pale, buttery yellow. focused, deliberate clockwise spins of snape’s wand began to reveal a pigmented buttercup color. you tapped snape’s shoulder and he recoiled, but allowed you to take over the mixing. a couple more stirs and you were left with a rich ochre potion, which had reached a consistent temperature without much bubbling.

“this is wonderful; truly fantastic work!” slughorn commended, clapping his hands together. “you should be very proud of yourselves.” in your potion-brewing haze, you hadn’t realized that slughorn had already reviewed most of the class’ potions. james and barty crouch sat in front of a cauldron that seemed to be hissing, while frank and marlene high fived each other, satisfied with their average outcome.

“you may be dismissed! the two of you,” slughorn waved at you and snape, “please stay back. and miss evans, i’d like to speak to you as well. you’re not in trouble, don’t worry,” he chortled.

lily hurried to your side, taking your hand and squeezing it reassuringly. she seemed pleased to see snape and smiled at him kindly. snape nodded his head in response, his oily hair falling from where it’d been tucked behind his ear. he pushed it out of his face bashfully.

“as fifth year students, i’d like to invite you to what i call ‘the slug club.’ it’s named after me, see?” slughorn pointed at himself jovially. “i invite the most promising fifth, sixth, and seventh year students, and i’d like you all to attend. the three of you have demonstrated incredible ability in my classroom.

“now, i’m hosting the first slug club event of the year this sunday at eight in the spare room across from my office. it’s an important meeting; you’ll introduce yourselves and get to know each other. dinner will be served as well, so there’s no excuses! i expect to see you all there.” slughorn patted his belly happily and made his way back to his desk, excusing the three of you as he squeezed through the rows of tables.

lily was sprightly as she manuevered easily through the desks. you patted your satchel, making sure you’d packed everything up. snape, who was always in a rush to get out of the classroom, lingered.

you paid him no mind as you buttoned everything up and tightened your straps, slinging your bag over your shoulder. it clanked as it hit corners and sides of tables—fifth year textbooks were much thicker and heavier than the years before.

you could feel snape’s gloomy presence behind you, trailing along like the stubborn smell of smoke. he was going down the same row of tables you were, most likely to bother you. he was so close that you could feel his sticky breath on your neck; he smelled of salty sardines and wilted cabbage. you shuddered.

snape cleared his throat ostentatiously, and before you could move aside like any decent person would do, he shoved past you proudly. his bag, heavy laden with textbooks and other snape-y evil contraptions, hit your hip. the bag bounced off of your body and flapped open—he’d forgotten to fasten it—and out fell a small book. it thudded on the ground, but somehow, snape didn’t seem to notice. you didn’t think much of it; you weren’t inclined to chase him down and return it.

curious, you slipped it into your bag for further investigation.

the marauders were waiting for you outside the classroom. “what was that, thumper?” james slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning his body weight on you until your knees buckled. the two of you wobbled before james grabbed onto remus’ forearm and grounded himself.

“slughorn invited me to ‘the slug club. it’s for promising students,” you sneered mockingly. “please, what’s so promising about me? i’ve got a couple major felonies under my belt that i’ve yet to be prosecuted for?”

sirius laughed. “godric, i love you. where’ve you been all my life?”

“in the library, with remus.” you snuck a glance at the tall, brown haired boy to find him smiling down at you, eyes darting across your face.

“ugh, you two are so infuriating.” peter kicked his satchel, which had been lying on the ground, in annoyance.

“what?”

“why?”

“because,” peter droned, as if it was obvious, “you’re so perfect for each other. the two of you must be the smartest, stupidest blokes i’ve ever met.”

“that’s quite the oxymoron,” remus noted.

“see?” peter pointed. “proves my point!”

“i don’t understand why you haven’t just ki-”

lily saved you from a very awkward conversation. “y/n, babe!” she skipped towards you, elated. “you’re going to slughorn’s event, right? sev promised to be my date, and i think you should find someone too. it’ll be a blast!”

james sputtered. “sev? what the bloody hell is ‘sev?’”

lily stared at him judgememntally. “…severus? sev, severus?”

sirius’ jaw dropped. “your date is snivellus?”

lily scowled. “how many times have i told you not to call him that? he’s not so bad—babe, tell them! he was nice during potions today, right?”

you stretched your lips into a thin, pained smile. “yeah, he was… civil.” you thought that was a bit too generous.

“see?” lily sighed happily. “i don’t understand why you can’t give him a chance. he’s very nice once you get to know him, i promise.”

you nodded slowly, unconvinced. you looked at remus, who looked at james and sirius, who looked completely outraged.

“evans, please, don’t go with him. hey- hey! you could go with me! mcgonagall told me slughorn invited me too, during transfiguration. ditch snivellus, we’d have a much better time together,” james winked.

lily wrinkled her nose. “you’re rancid, potter.” she turned to you and her expression softened. “bye, y/n. see you later!”

“wait,” james paused, “you don’t have a date, right? will you be my date to slughorn’s… thing? pleaaaase, thumper?”

you grabbed james by the shoulders (which was admittedly a bit difficult, because he was much taller than you) and shook him. “no need to beg, prongs. i’m all yours.”

remus began tapping his foot.

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player1064 · 2 months

Note

Sir Alex finding out and confronting Jamie would be hilarious. SAF showing up to what he thinks is just Jamie's home (we all know nobody denies SAF info when he's asking about the partner of one of his beloved players) but while he's giving the shovel talk, Gary wanders over since he's living with his partner. Would love to see SAF call Gary son and act like a slightly overprotective Scottish father to his not so wee lad 😉

(+ there was another anonymous request for sir alex finding out/giving a shovel talk... two birds one stone babeeeyy!)

ALSO bonus Mickey bc we were talking about him in the carraville discord earlier so he's on my mind today

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“Fuck. Jamie, fuck,” is the first thing Jamie hears when he picks up the phone. “Jamie, are you home right now?”

Jamie frowns, pulls his phone away from his face to double check the caller ID, then quickly says “Michael? What’s wrong, what do you need?”

There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach; besides exchanging polite small talk at the couple of fixtures they face each other each season, Jamie’s not spoken to Mickey in years. So to get a call from him – obviously, his mind is going to jump to the worst conclusions.

“What?” Mickey says, still slightly breathless. “No, I’m fine. It’s, fuck, it’s the boss. He knows about you and Neville.”

He wants to ask Mickey how the fuck he knows about ‘him and Neville’, when he can count on one hand the only people who should know about them, but that seems like something to be dealt with after –

“Wha’d’you mean, the boss knows?” he says, looking around the room, panicked. Because he knows exactly what Mickey means, and it’s not something he needs his idiot boyfriend to overhear. “Your boss, Michael? That boss? The one who Ga – the one who Neville’s had lording over him since he were fuckin’ eleven? That boss?”

“Yes, that boss, Jamie, obviously that boss. Look, he got your address off someone at Liverpool and then I think someone saw him drive off, but – it’s a fair drive, over to Liverpool, you’ve probably got time to –”

To flee the country? It sounds tempting, Jamie has no desire to have a conversation with Sir Alex fucking Ferguson, but there’s one teeny tiny flaw in the plan. “—Mickey,” he says, trying to sound gentle because he can acknowledge that it’s a little bit fucked that someone he used to call his best friend doesn’t know this, “I don’t live in Liverpool.”

The doorbell rings.

Alex Ferguson isn’t actually that tall, but he has this sort of presence that makes you feel like you’re shrinking under his gaze. He stands in the hallway of Jamie’s house and he looks around, unimpressed.

“Carragher,” he greets.

“Fergie,” Jamie replies, taking a tiny bit of pleasure in the way his lips press together at the nickname. “Not sure Rafa’s gonna be too happy when he hears you’re showin’ up on my doorstep in the middle of season.”

“This is purely a social call, not anything he need concern himself with.”

Of course, he’s gonna be hearing about it, social call or no. Jamie can’t risk him hearing through the rumour mill that he’s been entertaining Alex Ferguson at his house.

“I’d hope so,” he snaps, “’cause I only do business stuff through me agents. And they know to respond to anything from Manchester United with a ‘fuck off’.”

“How about you make us a cup of tea, Carragher?”

Jamie reluctantly leads him through to the kitchen and turns the kettle on. “Look,” he tries, “we both know why you’re here, so go on then. Tell me to leave your precious captain alone ‘n’ I’ll tell you to go fuck yerself, and we can call it a day.”

“I don’t know what stories you’ve been hearing, boy, but I’m not some imperious dictator. I have no interest in controlling my players’ private lives.”

Jamie snorts, because really? He’s heard plenty of ‘stories’ first hand that would suggest the contrary.

Sir Alex gives him a level stare, cool and detached. “I don’t, but you need to think of your career. You both do. This cannot get out.”

“This is the first you’re hearin’ of it in three years, so.”

They have been so careful. Not like they’ve got any other choice, is it? Three years, and the only person he’s told is Stevie. Same for Gary, only his parents and Scholes know. Not even fucking Philip does.

The question remains of how the fuck anyone at United found out, but he can’t even think about that right now.

He hears footsteps coming down the stairs, and just barely manages not to drop his head to the counter in frustration.

Gary shuffles into the kitchen in his pyjamas, sleep-ruffled and squinting at Jamie.

“Jamie?” he croaks. “Thought I heard doorbell, what –” he must suddenly gain some awareness of his surroundings, because his eyes go wide and he cuts himself off with a hum.

“Jamie,” he starts again, slowly, “please tell me I’m out me mind from the painkillers.”

“Sorry, lad,” Jamie says gently, ushering Gary into a seat before he realises that his meds aren’t miracle workers and his ankle gives up on him, “think this’d be my nightmare, not yours.”

“Fuck,” Gary mutters. He turns to Ferguson, eyebrows drawn together, and says “Boss, I’m so sorry I didn’t – I thought, if we were careful we – but I know, I know it’ll be bad for the club if it – so I can –“ he gulps, darts his eyes to Jamie for just a second, “I can call it. Obviously, I can – I can call it.”

The last part comes out more as a sob, and Jamie wonders if maybe this could’ve waited a week or so for when Gary’s sprained ankle is healed and he’s not high on painkillers. He’d wrap his arms around him, but he can’t, not in front of fucking Ferguson.

Maybe it hurts, just a bit, that Gary’s so willing to drop him at Sir Alex’s command. But he does get it. And again, he knows (hopes) that if Gary weren’t high as a kite this whole conversation would be going a lot differently.

“Like fuck you’re callin’ it,” he bites out.

“Nobody’s calling anything,” says Ferguson. “Gary. Son. Nobody’s calling anything, okay? It’s fine. This is fine. I trust you. And we can talk to people at the club, work out a strategy for if it ever does get out.”

Jamie clears his throat, looks pointedly at Gary’s ankle.

“When you’re well,” Ferguson adds, shooting a look at Jamie like stay out of this. “Obviously. Focus on getting well, first.”

Gary sniffs. “’course, boss.”

#thank u to both people who sent sir alex prompts dsfkjhsdgdsf!#took me a while bc I wasn't quite feeling the vibe. but then something clicked today idk #carraville #drabbles

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romantic-disarray · 1 year

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Childhood Friends to Lovers Pt. 2

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Part 2 of my mini series ft. Itoshi Rin !

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Note : I'm a bit busy with school atm so I'm sorry if the grammar sounds goofy 💀

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Warning : Takes place on and after the U-20 match. Includes suggestive stuff at the end but doesn't continue, probably next time when my ass isn't the one being fucked by school works 🙏 also includes cursing, but come on everyone curses

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Despite being friends with Rin for the longest time—you weren't exactly safe from his ludicrous insults and excessive use of the word lukewarm. If anything, it seemed that his frustration and need to do so only grew whenever you were around, which was a bothersome thing in the beginning yes—but overtime you just grew used to it.

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Though the question 'Why?' still circled your head like a cartoon bird.

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Your thoughts were cut short when many gasped on the sidelines right beside you, your eyes went up from the floor and onto the field, seeing Rin running at insane speed, with his... Tongue hanging?

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“Damn bitch put it away...” You murmured with furrowed brows, before cheering him on. Oh come on, he was still your best friend so who were to judge?

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Exactly. You were his best friend, and if not ONLY friend so you had the right to do so. Being Rin's friend definitely felt like an honor, but were you ever gonna let him know that? Fuck no, you'd rather swallow a milkshake of bird shit than admit anything. “YOU BETTER SCORE THAT GOAL YOU BASTARD!”

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He did, not in fact, score that goal. And with that, the match concluded with Blue Lock leading by 1 point. You screamed at the top of your lungs and had the sudden urge to hug someone when you realized you came here alone. So much for boasting about how lonely Rin was.

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You patiently waited until the players were finally allowed to leave the stadium, meaning you had to wait for over what? 1 and a half hours or so? You didn't even know how long it'd been considering the fact you fell asleep throughout it.

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If it hadn't been for someone oh so kind enough to shake you awake then you probably would've been kidnapped and sent to germany for god knows what. You slowly opened your eyes, and spotted someones arse sitting just right beside your head. A shudder went up your spine when your eyes trailed up that persons body and was met with blinding blue ones.

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How ironic.

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Before you could even stand up from the bench—a jacket fell from your waist. The both of you silently stared at it, and that's when it registered in your head that Rin had actually been thoughtful enough to cover you up in this throat aching weather.

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You robotically turned your head in Rin's direction, making sure to keep eye-contact while you picked up the jacket from the ground. The thought of spiting him with the neutral expression on your face that held every bit of smugness was the best thing about your reunion.

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You stood up from the bench and stared at him silently, before clearing your throat. “Were you actually sleeping?” Rin stated the obvious, a deadpanned expression on his face, “Did you actually cover me up with your jacket?”

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“No, I didn't.”

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“How thoughtful of Sae to cover me up then, with this 'Itoshi' jacket of his.” The sudden mention of his brother earned you a visible scowl on his face. You raised a hand and rubbed your neck to warm it up, “Too far, okay get it.” You awkwardly chuckled, and in attempt to lighten the mood—you tried to jokingly slap his arm, when he suddenly caught your wrist in his calloused and rather, cold hand.

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Your eyes widened, usually you weren't all that shocked when Rin decided to do something unexpected, but since the two of you have been separated for far too long—it seems that ability was thrown and disregarded out the window. You looked at him as if you were waiting for something, however nothing came from his tightly zipped mouth.

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You pushed all the teasing aside and tried to put a hand on his own, “Rin? Is there something wrong?” Your question was quickly followed by a gasp when Rin had suddenly pulled you in a warm hug. His hand slithered from your wrist and onto the back of your head while his other arm wrapped around your waist. His chin rested peacefully on your shoulder as he inhaled a deep breath. Was it out of embarrassment or lack of air? Don't know, but your pride said first option.

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You slowly let out a chuckle and hugged back, placing your hands onto his back as you felt him shudder slightly. “Aww, you missed me.” Rin grumbled a quiet, ‘No, I didn't.’ The two of you stayed in that position for a while, silently enjoying each other's company as your holds only seemed to grow tighter with many more seconds passing.

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You wouldn't admit it, but you liked it. You liked hugging him. You liked him.

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“You did great out there Rin,” you murmured into his scarf, feeling his hand comb through your hair as he listened. Rin felt smitten. He always liked hearing you talk, ever since the two of you were little kids. He just wishes he could've listened more.

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“But you mind wanna talk about that tongue action on the field?” Way to ruin the moment. Rin tugged at your hair.

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“Shut the fuck up.” Rin threatened in an annoyed tone, a grin graced your lips as you looked up at him with a cat-like smirk. “Makes me wonder what other things that tongue can do.” You tried saying with a straight face, but ended up breaking into a fit of laughter at how cringed out you were.

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You were pulling away from him, “I can't, let's go home dude—” “But you wanted me to show you, right?”

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Andd you were forcefully pulled back into the hug. Your eyes widened as your cheeks flared a bright red color, “What?” Rin stared at you, his eyes never wavering. “You said you wanted to see, right.” Despite the right at the end of his sentence—it felt more like a demand rather than a question. Your eyes twitched in annoyance, ‘Fuck you.’—is what you wanted to say, yet nothing came out.

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You gulped a lump down your throat, “Are you being serious right now?” You awkwardly laughed, freezing when he leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “How about you find out?”

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Next up: Nagi Seishiro ‼️

#blue lock #gender neutral reader #bllk #bllk x reader #anime #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #childhood friends to lovers #extremely fluffy #FUCK SCHOOL #maybe ooc but wtv #—carnival ♠️

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ryncorrect · 6 months

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The Ssum 2 is actually... not that bad?

It has been 14-ish days since The Ssum: Love From Today (or The Ssum Season 2 if we must) was released. We were introduced to a new character named June, a blonde cutie pie that looks kinda sad (?) and fragile (?) and reminds me of Yoosung from the very first picture release. His voice and the way he talks even gives off Yoosung vibe even more. The spoiler stated, “He has ties to someone from Mystic Messenger,” and I was like, OKAY YOOSUNG????? Or perhaps a little far off, RIKA????? Then bam it’s actually—welp if you haven’t played it yet then I’ll let you find it out yourself lol

The revelation received mixed reaction from “wtf” to “WTF??” and I gotta admit I was one of them who was like,,,,, why,,,,, but it didn’t get to make me stop playing June route because:

- The writing in this season actually gets better

Teo route was boring af (spoiler alert?) boi kept doing part time jobs, we got two couple fights that didn’t even make sense, and somehow he ended up getting involved in a cult like ??????? I know they were trying to build a slow pacing relationship that lasted 200 days and added many “realistic” things but fam this aint it. And don’t get me started with the waiting time in between his chats, like 20+ minutes to wait for him climbing a hill, in a bed time chat? Nah fuk u man

Harry route.... god I hate don’t like it very much because 1) he doesn’t make it easy for me at all, 2) some of MC options in the chat are either gold-diggerish, or very jealous, or mean, or ignorant, and I don’t wanna be that kinda person

Don’t get me wrong, Teo and Harry are good characters and their designs are cool but the storytelling... is really all over the place

Since the writer from Cheritz’s previous games including Mysme is making a comeback in this season for June, playing his route now I can really see the difference. June started off falling in love instantly for MC and in only like 5 days I found out he has terminal disease. Nice. Tragic and angsty and very Mysme of you, June

BUT other than that, the conversation flows nicely, not too short and too long, the waiting time is reasonable, and I love how we get to talk about the planets thing in the chat; MC telling June to write in Gratitude Diary, June telling MC that he likes to read stuffs in Root of Desire, Piu-Piu advising us to look around the planets as we wait for June. It makes a huge difference for me. The whole meeting-a-fateful-stranger-in-some-random-app concept feels more realistic, and those planets are now part of the story and not just there to... exist. Though, it does make me wonder if June has this battery thing going on for him too, and if that’s why he doesn’t call us as often as Teo used to (but I’m still on day 10 and he’s currently trying to recover his health, so perhaps he probably just doesn’t get the energy and time to call us often lolol)

AND I KINDA LIKE PIU-PIU HERE. It feels... useful and friendly now. Piu-Piu in Teo route feels like a mean sassy bird and Piu-Piu in Harry route is just weird and likes to invade people’s privacy

- June having ties with Mysme character

Yes, this is also another reason I keep playing. Finding out that this new lovable character has a relationship with one of my favorite characters from one of my favorite games? I’m sold. I don’t care if this is just some way of Cheritz to get Mysme players into The Ssum. They have the right to do so—I mean it’s their game??? Some people are also saying that Cheritz should just release another contents for Mysme rather than doing this with The Ssum, and I think that’s valid. But Mysme has been running for years already, and keeping an otome game around for this long must be very hard. Releasing another content for Mysme means that Cheritz must gather their old writers, old artists, and old voice actors and perhaps they don’t have the resources to do so

Ofc this reason might not be true and Cherits just simply doesn’t want to work on Mysme anymore, and that’s their decision I’d like to respect

Also, if Teo and Harry made me miss Mysme because of their poor writing, June here actually makes me want to play Mysme again because he’s related to ***** and it’s fun being able to see ***** from different perspective

Moreover I’d rather be a gf of June who has half-brother (oops) from Mysme than being Zen’s ex. Wtf was that

And who knows? Maybe we will get another chara who’s related to V next????? Idk tho it might be too much of a stretch but I’m not gonna complain lol

- Cheritz is trying their very best

Them using AI art is wrong, and they have addressed that issue so I won’t repeat it here. I just wanna acknowledge their effort in making a game we would enjoy. They're pretty fast in handling and responding to our complaints, they still give us some battery freebies in the game so people who can't afford batteries or subscription can save them to play, and tbh you don't have to purchase every paid option in the chat too (I know I don't). Some players also share the paid pictures online, so you can decide to pay just for the pictures you wanna keep. We have a friendly and helpful community ;_;

The subscription price is still too much for many players and I myself can’t afford it every month because I have a family to feed, but I try to understand that in the end Cheritz is still an independent company that has to make profit. They have to pay rent, their employees, and people who work with them. I encourage people who can afford to keep supporting them, and those who can’t, I’m sure Cheritz appreciates our support and feedback just as much!

In conclusion, I just love them and I hope they keep up with the hard work

I want to say much more tbh but I’m kinda tired so now I’ll get back to work—while waiting for June for our lunch chat

#cheritz #thessum #mysme #the ssum #the ssum june #thessum_june_review #thessum june review #the ssum observatory lab june #p.s i love teo i really do

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wheresarizona · 10 months

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Learning to Live Locations

Masterlist

I use a lot of visuals when writing, and have made layouts for the main places so I know where things are. I thought I’d share. 🥰🥰🥰 The stuff inside them is obviously not to scale, just a rough estimate.

I hope you enjoy!

View them under the cut:

Cielito’s Apartment

Every single room has seen action. The area where the record player is and the sliding back door, there are a bunch of plants, since the wall there is almost all window that gets a ton of light. There are small potted ones on the table with the record player, others hanging on the walls and down from the ceiling. The bird of paradise is your pride and joy, and Javi calls it Reggie because he had no fucking clue how to pronounce Strelitzia reginae when he was reading up on it (he’s gotten some books on plant care—it makes you 🥹🥹🥹 but also horny).

Chucho’s House

This is a place I found that I modeled his house after, and almost exactly how I describe the outside as looking like. Chucho has a bigger front porch with two white rocking chairs and his wife’s flower garden lining the path. (I made the layout a while ago, so Javi’s Colombia boxes have been consolidated down to one and stuffed in his walk-in closet)

Cielito’s Work

The wing isn’t huge. There’s ten patient rooms (never all full), the nurse’s station, a single person restroom, and a couple of storage rooms. When Javi shows up in chapter 10, he’s strutting down that middle hallway, and yes, he did look at one of the hospital maps to make sure he made a good entrance.

Javier’s Office

His office isn’t too big. His desk is made from cherry wood, and the plants are real—Cielito helped him pick them out, and she doesn’t know this, but they stress him out a little because he’s worried he’s gonna kill them; he has a sticky note attached to his desk phone to remind him to water them every Friday.

Eventually, you will have a house, and when that happens, I’ll add that layout as well.

Thanks for reading!

tagging: @thevoiceinyourheadx @kirsteng42 @modiddys-blog @fleetsonfire

Masterlist

#wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

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merklins · 1 month

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BEHOLD! THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

Various hlvrv characters as ponys (: A full list does indeed exist, BUT! These are the silly guys I've drawn for you today. Under the cut, as I! Have now gone into WAY more detail than I thought I would haha.

Player- A Pegasus, inspired by the European Turtle Dove and Komorner Tumbler Pigeon! (He is not pictured here BUT. I also have a Saxon Fairy Swallow assignment set aside for Power Trip) I'd probably give him more armor in the future for the HEV suit, BUT! Little leg guards is what he's got for now. And also a little band on one leg like you see on pigeons for tracking and scientific purposes. Because SCIENCE and BLACK MESA! And honestly I thought it'd just look cool for him to have the little lambda band on his leg after all's over with and he isn't carrying around an entire HEV suit anymore. The other front leg is where he would put anything else, like friendship bracelets or "hey hold onto this for a minute" or what have you.

Doc- A Pegasus, BUT BETTER! After an accident in the Green Department of the rainbow factory, he now glows... GREEN! Surprising! And also she has various bat pony traits Which she now uses her epic and cool inventions to help with. Like the robot arms! He's inspired by a Rufous hummingbird, mostly. Actual flight is finicky because of the hummingbird and bat pony wing combination, BUT! They can indeed hover and zip a little! As they deserve. (This drawing was done before I picked hummingbird specifcially, but now she's got much tinier wings like a hummingbird, that are feathery at the base but extend out into more bat-like wings!)

Loverboy- As Gordon B he would be an Earth Pony, BUT! There's this wonderful wonderful Generation 3 episode where- [I am sent to the abyss for referencing this single episode for the third time on blog] WHERE THE EARTH PONYS GET HUGE MAGIC GIANT BUTTERFLY WINGS THAT LOOK SO AWESOME AND COOL. Loverboy is that (:

(THE EPISODE IS CALLED TWO FOR THE SKY)

Sleepless- A Griffon! Violet-Backed Starling is the main inspiration, but I DID take a little bit from the White-Breasted Ground Dove as well. The other half that isn't a bird I used a Clouded Leopard because. cloud... fog... the purple stuff... it was a REACH, but it looks cool so I win either way. I didn't draw it in this one, but I imagine his regular sleeping mask is a little more like a cowl you'd see in Falconing. One of the masks that slide on and cover the entire upper face. Also I know Griffons are basically pony sized, but also I write the canon here and Sleepless gets to be taller than ponies by a large margin. Just for fun, a little treat for me.

Valentine- A Unicorn! But as opposed to other unicorns I have slotted in the hlvrv roster, they take a lot of inspiration from that classic unicorn look. You know the one, probably. A lot of MLP redesigns change the unicorns to look like it and its SO cool. But Spork and Valentine are the only ones I really did that with this time around, other then a couple guys who got the little unicorn beard. You also probably know the one. I think I stole their cutie mark from somewhere by mistake, so apologies for that, BUT!! In other news, Valentine and the Love Letters all very VERY specifically have the little heart-shaped hoof thing going on. For the Aesthetic, y'know?

CLOWN NEO FUNNY GUY CLOWN NEO!! Neo himself is an Earth Pony, BUT! In Nightmare Circus? He has all that cool dressage that carousel horses and circus ponies wear SUCH AS! One of those cool decorative head pieces that are meant to make them look like a unicorn. EXCEPT. Because this is a dream and you can do whatever you want, It ACTUALLY works as a functional magic horn and he can pull all KINDS of magic tricks and shenanigans with it!

AAAAAND PING FOR FRIEND WHO RAMBLED WITH ME FOR HOURS ON THE MATTER TO HELP ME ASSIGN THEM ALL! YES, ALL OF THEM! @bbeeohazardd

#m scribbles #hlvrv #hlvrv roster

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inconsistentcharacterizationcomp · 11 months

Note

The developers keep calling Wheatley stupid and insisting that he's the dumbest moron in existence, but like ????

"Oh, just open the door! [to self] That's too aggressive. [loud again] Hello, friend! Why not open the door? [to self] Hm. Could be Spanish, could be Spanish. [loud again] Hola, amigo! Abre la puerta! Donde esta--no. Um..." Not fluent but knows a little bit of Spanish.

"Simple word. 'Apple'. Just say 'Apple'. Classic. Very simple. Ay. Double Pee-Ell-Ee." He can spell.

"I found some bird eggs up here. Just dropped 'em into the door mechanism. Shut it right down." Created a diversion to distract GLaDOS so he could talk to Chell.

"Hey, buddy! Ahm speaken' in an accent that is beyOnd 'er range of hearing." People think this is stupid but 1. He was planning on breaking Chell out in Test Chamber 23 but GLaDOS was planning to kill Chell after Test Chamber 21 so he had to enact the escape plan early. And 2, he had to improvise using a technique that he's likely heard of but never got the chance to learn how to do himself, which is AI voice modulation. And it's an actual thing, it's not just some weird thing he came up with out of nowhere. In an unused line, GLaDOS says this: "I can hear him. I've modulated my voice, however, so he can't hear me. What are you up to?" Like it's an actual THING cores can do, he just doesn't know how to do it because he's inexperienced.

"Quick word about the future plans that I've got in store: We are going to shut down her turret production line, alright? Turn off her neurotoxin, and then confront her." He literally came up with the plan to disarm GLaDOS.

GLaDOS: "The irony is that you were almost at the last test. Here it is. Why don't you just do it? Trust me, it's an easier way out than whatever asinine plan your friend came up with."

Wheatley: "Oh, what? How stupid does she think we are?" A real moron would have easily fallen for this trap.

"Brilliant you made it through! Well done! Follow me, we've still got work to do. At least she can't touch us back here." Knew to guide Chell someplace specifically where GLaDOS wouldn't be able to reach them.

"Here's an interesting story. You might like this. I almost got a job down here in Manufacturing. But, uh, guess who the foreman went with? Only an exact duplicate of himself. Nepotism." 'Nepotism' is quite a big word for a "moron" to have in his vocabulary.

"There's no turret in it... Maybe the system stores a backup image? Oh, hang on. What if we gave it something ELSE to scan? We could get one of the crap turrets. We could put it in the scanner and see what happens. Yes! Go and catch one of the crap turrets, and bring it back!" If Wheatley is supposedly the 'dumbest moron who ever lived' then what does that say about the player who can't figure out this puzzle and needs Wheatley to solve it for them?

"Wait. Just thought of something? How am I going to get in? You know, being bloody massive and everything. Wait! I know! You get into the lift, okay? Then I'll eject myself out of my new body into the lift just as you pass by me! Brilliant. It's perfect. Except for all the glass hitting us when I smash through the lift, that's a bit of a problem. Also, once I eject myself out of the core the lift might stop. Then we'd be trapped in a lift full of broken glass suspended fifty feet off the ground." What kind of moron thinks about the logistics like this?

"Look at the word 'test', on the wall there. That's brand new." Once again, Wheatley can spell. He isn't illiterate.

"To clarify, I was being a little bit facetious about wanting to get rid of monitors. They're actually really quite useful. So I do want them around. So if you could just avoid smashing them." "Facetious" is also a pretty big word for a supposed "Moron" to be honest.

"Yeah... Made this test myself. Out of some smaller tests. That I found. Lying around. Jammed 'em all together. Buttons. Got funnels. Bottomless pits are involved. It's got it all, it's got it all, it's absolute dynamite." The fact that he did this while having the test somehow still be solvable is actually incredible.

Wheatley: "SURPRISE! We're doing it NOW!"

GLaDOS: "Okay, credit where it's due: for a little idiot built specifically to come up with stupid, unworkable plans, that was a pretty well laid trap..." Even GLaDOS had to give him credit for that one.

"Also, I took the liberty of watching the tapes of you killing her, and I'm not going to make the same mistakes. Four part plan is this: One: No portal surfaces. Two: Start the neurotoxin immediately. Three: Bomb-proof shields for me. Leading directly into number Four: Bombs. For throwing at you. [...] PART FIVE! BOOBYTRAP THE STALEMATE BUTTON!" No seriously, what kind of a moron does this?

Like my guy isn't a genius, sure, but he isn't "The dumbest moron who ever lived" he's just some awkward guy with a short attention span who probably has ADHD. Like he's literally just as smart as your average person but the game apparently wants to gaslight you into thinking that he's way dumber than he actually is.

#propaganda #wheatley #wheatley propaganda

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luminouslune · 9 months

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Roll call!

Pairing: Maki x reader

Genre: The fluffiest fluff, suspense?

Warnings: Cursing!

Authors note: I got this idea from a TikTok I saw I got the game from her! I take no credit! ^^

Her user: @ simpformillardnullings

2:45 the time I get off of school. I looked up at the clock from my desk. Sigh. Just 30 minutes left I've got this. I glanced down at my open text book, uninterested in what the teacher had to say. "Psst! Y/n!" I looked over to see the source of the voice. Haerin. "What's up?" I whispered back to the brunette. "You up to come to a sleepover with me and the girls?" She asked, smiling softly. I looked up to make sure the teacher didn't notice us. "Who's coming?" I asked, looking back at her. "It's just gonna be our friend group." She finished. I nodded. Jeez that's quite a bit of people. Our friend group: Me, Haerin, Danielle, Minji, Hyein, Nicho, Yuma, Jo, Taki, and of course Maki.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bell. "YES." I shouted, hearing laughing from Haerin. I grabbed my things and darted out the door. "YAH Y/N! WAIT FOR ME!"

Time skip brought to you by me :)

"Nicho told me that all of us should meet up at the park near his house." Haerin said, reading from her phone. "Wait like, right now? We still need to get our stuff." I said, dumbfounded. "Eh we'll be fine, if anything just ask to borrow clothes from Maki." She smirked at me. I rolled my eyes and shoved her shoulder playfully. "Let's just head to the park." I continued, turning the corner. Now that I think of it. I don't even know why I started liking Maki. To be honest I don't really know him. Yeah we're friends but I haven't ever got to know him as a person. Maybe that could change tonight. I smiled to myself.

"Hey! There they are!" I smiled at them. "Hey guys sorry for being late!" Haerin called out, running towards them. "What's up Y/n!" Jo said, playfully punching me. "Yo." I said, rolling my eyes at the boy. "We should start making it to the house before it gets too dark." Nicho suggested. Everyone agreed, heading their way down the dark street. I sighed looking up at the night sky. "Boo." I looked over to see Maki peering over my shoulder. I heated up at the sudden proximity. I chuckled awkwardly, hoping that the darkness could hide my blush. "Hey Maki." I greeted, offering him a small smile. He kindly returned a smile. "Hey love birds stop flirting and come inside already." Nicho called out.

"Ah sorry, I didn't notice you guys were already inside." I apologized, stepping inside. "Hey we should play your game Y/n!" Danielle suggested. "A game? Sure!" Taki commented. "What game is it?" Yuma questioned, looking over at me. "Uhm well it's one I made up when I was in middle school, I often played it at sleepovers much like this one. I call the game 'Roll call'. It's not really a scary game but more like suspenseful!" I explain to the others. "Ok! What're the rules?" Minji asked, now interested in what I had to say.

Rules: 5-10 players (or just an even amount of players) Nominate a 'snatcher' and a 'roll caller' the snatchers goal is to snatch players at random (roll caller is off limits) then they hide them in random rooms without anyone noticing. Players stay there for the remainder of the game. The roll caller takes roll call at random times to see how many players still remain. The other eight players goal is to avoid getting snatched and try to catch the snatcher. Additional things: all lights must remain off, its recommended that it's played at night, remain as silent as possible.

"I think Minji should take roll call." Danielle suggested. I nodded. "No complaints here." Jo shrugged. All of the guys didn't want to be the so called "snatcher". "Maki should do it." Taki snickered. "What? Why me?" The boy whined. He turned around to see almost everyone gone. "We could switch roles if you'd like." You offered, feeling bad for him. He shook his head. "It's fine, you should go before the game starts though." He said before sneaking off into a room. I shrugged, heading downstairs. "Y/n! Get away from the doors, you're only giving Maki an opportunity to grab you!" Haerin scolded. I looked back at the door behind me, carefully stepping away. "My bad." I chuckled sheepishly.

"Oh please, they probably wanna get snatched by Maki." Hyein teased. "Shut up! He can probably hear you!" Taki said. "Roll call!!" Minji called from the living room. "Okay, Taki, Jo, Haerin, Y/n- wait. Where's Danielle?" Minji paused. "Of course she was the first one to get caught." Nicho face palmed. "Okay so there's only 7 of us left. Stay away from doors, and try to travel in groups." Yuma stated. "Y/n come on let's stick together." Haerin said, looking over her shoulder. I nodded. Peering over the corner of the hallway. "Okay, we're clear. Let's go." I signalled over to her. She nodded, following behind me. We suddenly heard a door creak. I turned, checking behind me. I turned back in front to see Haerin missing. "What the hell? Haerin?" I said, confused.

I turned around making a 360. "Shoot, she got caught!" I said in realization. I looked around to make sure Maki wasn't around. I quickly went to the stairs almost going down until I felt arms wrap around my waist, pulling my back. "Oh my-" I got cut off by them covering my mouth. "Don't freak out, you're fine." He said pulling me into a room. Once he closed the door he laughed. "You freaked me out!" I scolded. "It was the only way I could get you!" Maki chuckled. I grinned. "I have to go catch four more people, but first let's make a bet." He said looking at me. "A bet?" I questioned him. He nodded. "If I win this game, you let me take you out." He challenged. I felt my face heat up a little, but I smiled a little. "Bet." I smiled at him. He smiled back at me, opening the door to leave. "Maki!" I called him before he left. He turned to look at me curiously. "Fighting!" I smirked. He smiled softly, leaving.

©luminouslune

#andteam #kpop imagines #andteam x reader #andteam k #andteam nicholas #andteam maki #andteam yuma #andteam ej #kpop #kpopidol #&team imagines

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sapphire-weapon · 8 months

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Hi! Sorry if this counts as shitstirring... But you got me thinking... Do you really think that someone really needs to play the games in order to fully understand the story? Or is watching them and reading up on them enough? Thanks, and sorry!!!

Don't be sorry. This is a valid question that deserves an honest answer.

There's nuance to this. This isn't just a simple "yes or no" question.

Do I think that you need to play the games to understand the story? No, I don't. Resident Evil's story is not difficult (though, you'd never know that, looking at the fandom). It's very easy to watch the games and movies, go "ok I got it", and move on.

Do I think that you need to play the games to be considered an authority on the canon? 100%, absolutely. And I'll tell you why.

We spend a lot of time talking about narrative direction and storytelling devices and the use of tropes and cinematography here on this blog, but the one thing that we really need to keep in mind at all times is that Resident Evil is a game first and a story second. This has been the design philosophy since the series's conception. This is why RE4 OG's story was slapped together in three weeks. This is why RE5 was the way that it was. This is why RE7 is what RE7 turned out to be.

The narrative of Resident Evil is not something that exists separately or divorced from its gameplay. In fact, the opposite is true. RE's story is not only influenced by its gameplay, it actually -- in some cases -- is directly written as a result of its gameplay.

I've talked about the story behind RE4's development before, but.

Was RE6's story borderline incomprehensible, and did it jump approximately sixteen sharks? Yes. Was that the main reason why RE6 failed? Absolutely fucking not. Not even close.

RE6 turned out the way that it did because RE6 was developed and released during a time in which the biggest moneymakers in the AAA game space were brown & bloom multiplayer shooters. Capcom wanted in on that gravy train.

RE5 sought to take the award-winning formula that RE4 developed and add a multiplayer element to it in order to initially chase that trend, and RE5 for a very long time was the highest-selling Resident Evil title ever made.

Capcom looked at that and took it to mean that it was RE5's added multiplayer element that made it so successful. They weren't exactly wrong, either. RE5, for a lot of people, was like a version of RE4 that you could play with your friends.

Wesker was not killed in RE5 because Capcom thought it was an appropriate time narratively to kill him. Wesker's death was a symbolic one -- it was the death of the "old" Resident Evil -- the death of the slow, plodding, single player experience that the entire AAA industry had convinced themselves was no longer viable monetarily and not what players wanted. This was especially true for RE, after the unprecedented success of the more action-focused RE4 changed the entire third person shooter genre forever.

By the time we reach RE6, Capcom is all on on this. Three campaigns, all with co-op, all of which play differently. Chris's story is what Chris's story is in RE6 because Capcom knew that most players were probably going to reach for his campaign first, considering he was the protagonist of the most recent release and, therefore, the most recognizable to players who maybe weren't necessarily super familiar with RE. They specifically wanted Chris's campaign to feel like a traditional third person shooter in order to get new players hooked, because Capcom was convinced that that's what a majority of gamers at the time in general wanted.

Leon's story is what Leon's story is in RE6 because it was designed specifically to cater to people who loved RE4 and would reach for him first over Chris. So, they gave Leon a female partner (Helena in place of Ashley) and a slower, more traditional horror setting (while still being action-oriented), and they tried to kill two birds with one stone by having Ada running around and also being the damsel in distress, so to speak, to replicate the "save the princess" plotline from RE4.

But the biggest issue with all of this was that it turned the design philosophy of the game into "how can we sell this?" over trying to just make a good horror game -- and it showed. Capcom cut a hell of a lot of corners in terms of pacing and level design and enemy design and enemy variety in favor of focusing on the combat system (which was never adequately explained and had its nuances lost on approximately 80% of the playerbase), the netcode, and making the game's story as easy to consume and digest as possible while chasing specific market trends.

RE6 didn't go super hard on Aeon because the writing staff was just so ~dedicated to the ship~. RE6 went hard on Aeon because they wanted Leon to look heroic and save the girl just like he did in RE4 but didn't want to create another Ashley after how universally hated she was. Knowing that is how I say so confidently that Remake is retconning Aeon -- it's because the ship itself was never the point. They used it as a gameplay contrivance that they thought would help sell RE6, and it blew up in their faces. So now they're trying something new.

The actual experience of playing Resident Evil 6 was downright miserable to a vast majority of the fanbase because it was a soulless, hackneyed mess that didn't even have the decency to bother giving itself a spooky atmosphere. It was an uninspired series of long hallways filled with bullet sponge enemies and literally nothing else.

So, when the story was stupid and fan favorites like Leon felt like they got screwed over on top of all of that because the same design philosophy of "make this as mass marketable as possible" bled into the story from the gameplay, that was just the shit icing on the shit cake.

People probably would have been much more forgiving of RE6's story if the game design itself was better. Or, conversely, people would've been much more forgiving of RE6's game design if the story was super compelling.

But RE6 was neither.

And so RE7 was Capcom's way of trying to re-learn how to do pacing, level design, and atmosphere. The gameplay was the most important thing. That's why they didn't even bother using the legacy characters and created Ethan and the Bakers. The legacy characters would've been a distraction. They had to fix things one step at a time: gameplay first, story second.

That's why RE7 is RE7 and why we have only seen Leon in CGI movies and not games since 6 (Remakes not withstanding). RE7 fixed the gameplay, and Vendetta, ID, and DI served to reconfigure and redefine Leon's character, and I'm more than sure that they're going to try to finally blend those things together in RE9.

And if you don't play the fucking games, and if you don't fucking understand how the games industry works, you're not going to have any of that fucking context going into your meta analysis.

That's why braindead motherfuckers in this fandom look at that stupid remark made about how the one director thought that Leon and Ashley holding hands during RE4make's gameplay made them look "too close" and they read way too much into it -- it's because the spoken words of the directors are all they have to go off of, and they don't realize what a bad gameplay decision having Leon and Ashley hold hands would have been.

If you don't play the fucking game, you don't know that the half-second it takes for Leon to switch from his knife to his gun can mean the difference between taking a hit or not -- and so you would have no reason to think of how annoying it would be to add yet another half-second delay to Leon drawing his gun if he had to disengage from Ashley first. If you fuck with the normal gameplay loop with something that only happens when Ashley is with you, it will make the player start to resent Ashley, and that's the opposite of what the devs wanted to do -- which is what the fucking conversation in the interview was about in the first place!

That is far more likely the reason why the handholding was cut. And while that decision was being made, it was probably pointed out that having them hold hands made it look like they were on a date -- and that's absolutely not the tone/atmosphere that this game was going for. That is far more likely what was meant by "too close."

It had nothing to do with ensuring that the players perceived Leon and Ashley's relationship as platonic. It had everything to do with tone and atmosphere and the pacing of the normal gameplay loop. It's just that "*juts a thumb in his direction* This guy thought it made them look too close" was a way fucking easier explanation of what they probably thought was a really fucking unimportant anecdote about a character animation that didn't matter.

But if you don't play the games, you won't know that.

If you don't play the games, Word of God is all you have to go on. That's why people who don't play the games insist on all Word of God being explicit canon. It's because they can't use the games themselves as a baseline -- and that gives them a skewed, fucked up perspective of what Resident Evil is trying to do and be and accomplish.

This kind of shit is constantly in my head when I'm writing my meta and trying to predict where a game's story will go next.

I pull my meta directly from the games, because that is what Resident Evil is. It is a series of games that are trying to be good games first and interesting stories second.

And if you don't understand that, you have no business calling yourself an authority on the canon.

#resident evil #meta analysis #sorry for the long rant #but i wanted to be crystal goddamn clear about this #resident evil's story does not exist in a vacuum #and if your intention is to pick it apart and analyze it you need to be starting where the games themselves start #and that's the gameplay

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mariana-oconnor · 8 months

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The Missing Three-Quarter pt 1

We were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker Street, but I have a particular recollection of one which reached us on a gloomy February morning some seven or eight years ago...

OK, so obviously my first question - in spite of knowing that time is made up in these stories and attempting to pin them down is an exercise in madness - is what year was this story published. Google provides: 1904. So we're supposedly looking at 1896-7.

Not that that means anything.

“Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing three-quarter missing; indispensable to-morrow. — Overton.”

I mean if you're missing three quarters of your right wing, that does sound like a terrible misfortune, but I am interested in how a bird managed to send a telegram. Perhaps it is the trained cormorant! Or one of the canaries.

Despite being British and my brother having played it at school (and numerous other things about my life which mean I should know), the rules and terminology of rugby are completely beyond me. It is a massive gap in my knowledge that I have no real desire to fill in. I know William Webb Ellis and that there's League and Union, something something scrum, score a try, six nations. There. That's all I know.

But according to the post script in the last email, this is about Rugby, so I must assume that Right Wing three quarter refers to a playing position and that tomorrow there is a rugby game.

For years I had gradually weaned him from that drug mania which had threatened once to check his remarkable career. Now I knew that under ordinary conditions he no longer craved for this artificial stimulus, but I was well aware that the fiend was not dead, but sleeping; and I have known that the sleep was a light one and the waking near when in periods of idleness I have seen the drawn look upon Holmes's ascetic face, and the brooding of his deep-set and inscrutable eyes.

This is honestly a really interesting and serious discussion of drug addiction. We've had a few comments from Watson about it before, but never to this extent, I don't think. And the actual discussion of how he's been slowly getting Sherlock clean over the years. But the acknowledgement that it's always there, waiting. And it's always preying on Watson's mind, too.

Mr. Cyril Overton, of Trinity College, Cambridge

Of course he's from a Cambridge college and worrying about a rugby game. The only way this could be more Oxbridge is if it were the boat race he was worrying about.

Do you think it's an Oxbridge match or an intercollegiate one?

“I've been down to Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes. I saw Inspector Stanley Hopkins. He advised me to come to you. He said the case, so far as he could see, was more in your line than in that of the regular police.”

Glad to see the police really care about missing people. Although 'university rugby player wandered off' isn't really that unusual in my experience. After a rugby social night you'd trip over them in the weirdest places. After the medical students, they probably had the most intense events.

"Whether it's passing, or tackling, or dribbling, there's no one to touch him..."

Do you dribble in rugby? I genuinely thought that was a football term.

(According to the All Blacks apparently you do... weird. I do not understand this game at all)

"Why, Morton or Johnson, the Oxford fliers, could romp round him."

Ah, it's an Oxbridge match. No wonder he's so put out about it.

“There is Arthur H. Staunton, the rising young forger,” said he, “and there was Henry Staunton, whom I helped to hang, but Godfrey Staunton is a new name to me.”

Just let me look in my book of people. Oh yes, he's not the one I had hanged... nope, don't know him. This is so funny to me.

“I suppose, then, if you have never heard of Godfrey Staunton you don't know Cyril Overton either?”

His utter astonishment at Holmes not knowing about rugby is sweet and also hilarious. Also kind of arrogant, but I was expecting that.

...with many repetitions and obscurities which I may omit from his narrative, he laid his strange story before us.

Thank you, Watson.

"Half an hour later the porter tells me that a rough-looking man with a beard called with a note for Godfrey. [...] Godfrey read it and fell back in a chair as if he had been pole-axed. [...] Then he went downstairs, said a few words to the man who was waiting in the hall, and the two of them went off together. The last that the porter saw of them, they were almost running down the street in the direction of the Strand."

Oooh... long lost relative? But what's in the letter? Does Godfrey have a secret past? Is the bearded man a colonel? Has he trained some birds to do crimes? But if he had trained birds to do crimes, surely he could also train them to deliver messages without needing porters.

Even with Watson editing this down, the tone, pace and wording still convey Cyril's personality perfectly. Excellent character work. Chef's kiss.

“I wired to Lord Mount-James.” “Why to Lord Mount-James?” “Godfrey is an orphan, and Lord Mount-James is his nearest relative—his uncle, I believe.”

Ding-ding, we have some more evidence for long lost relative. Maybe crawling out of the woodwork to get money? If Godfrey is related to a Lord, that would make sense.

"Lord Mount-James is one of the richest men in England.”

Yep, there is definitely going to be at least an indication that money is involved. Although it may turn out to be one of those stories where that is a red herring.

“Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty—cram full of gout, too. They say he could chalk his billiard-cue with his knuckles. He never allowed Godfrey a shilling in his life, for he is an absolute miser, but it will all come to him right enough.”

They are really building up the money motive. Makes me think it won't be that straightforward.

He was simply what the porter described as a “medium-looking chap”

Watson, king of describing people, faced with an ordinary person. You can feel the exasperation.

“It is a pity he did not write in pencil,” said he, throwing them down again with a shrug of disappointment. “As you have no doubt frequently observed, Watson, the impression usually goes through—a fact which has dissolved many a happy marriage. However, I can find no trace here. I rejoice, however, to perceive that he wrote with a broad-pointed quill pen, and I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon this blotting-pad."

Proper old school detective work going on. Blotting paper. Does anyone in the world still use blotting paper, I wonder. I spent my childhood reading Enid Blyton and Agatha Christie and wondering what it even was.

"But I dare say it may have come to your notice that if you walk into a post-office and demand to see the counterfoil of another man's message there may be some disinclination on the part of the officials to oblige you. There is so much red tape in these matters! However, I have no doubt that with a little delicacy and finesse the end may be attained."

How dare they protect people's privacy in that way! How dare!

Honestly, I find this kind of reassuring. I may have assumed that there was no security about these things at all in the Victorian era. Weird when you find something that they did better back then. By 'delicacy and finesse' does he mean 'bribery'? So... maybe not any better really.

...we looked up to find a queer little old man, jerking and twitching in the doorway. He was dressed in rusty black, with a very broad brimmed top-hat and a loose white necktie—the whole effect being that of a very rustic parson or of an undertaker's mute. Yet, in spite of his shabby and even absurd appearance, his voice had a sharp crackle, and his manner a quick intensity which commanded attention.

See, Mr Day-porter, this is how you describe a person.

"If he has any expectations it is due to the fact that I have never wasted money, and I do not propose to begin to do so now. As to those papers with which you are making so free, I may tell you that in case there should be anything of any value among them you will be held strictly to account for what you do with them.”

Huge Scrooge McDuck vibes from this guy.

“Heavens, sir, what an idea! I never thought of such villainy! What inhuman rogues there are in the world! But Godfrey is a fine lad—a staunch lad. Nothing would induce him to give his old uncle away."

Dude, hate to say it, but if you were my uncle I would absolutely give you away. In a heartbeat. I would be telling them every piece of information I knew about you so fast they'd have burgled your house before you could blink. Unless they showed me their faces, then I'd use the information as leverage to get away.

But you seem like such a great guy, I'm sure Godfrey wants to protect you with his life.

Totally.

"You must admit that it is curious and suggestive that this incident should occur on the eve of this important match, and should involve the only man whose presence seems essential to the success of the side."

I mean, if he hadn't gone off on his own accord, I'd definitely support the argument 'Oxford kidnapped him'. Makes perfect sense.

OH... Holmes meant people who had bet on the game.

My best bet currently is that he got news (real or false) about someone he cares about and left to try to help them. That would also explain the 'us'.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Missing Three-Quarter #long post

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