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#throws this at you like a flashbang

r0b0t1me · 2 years

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It doesn't happen ceremoniously, nothing here ever does. But Mikey comes back from his impromptu vacation, materializing from thin air to snap a dog's neck before it can maul Leo's face.

Leo cracks a weak smile at his brother's back, "Hey, I had him." Mikey doesn't say anything, he grabs Leo's scarf and in the next second they're outside home base. There's a lot of things that should- that have- that need to be said. They both know this, and yet the only thing Leo can focus on is, "When did this happen?"

He reaches out to touch the faint gray hairs poking out from the sides of Mikey's face, but a lone chain comes up and smacks it away. Something twists in Leo's heart and he bites back the urge to cry, choking out a laugh instead, "It's fitting, y'know? Goes along with the whole mystic warrior thing. Suits you."

Glaring down at his feet, cape dripping with fresh blood, new wrinkles digging jagged lines into his chin, Mikey grits his teeth and disappears again. And Leo can do nothing but say that he's sorry to the faded orange afterimage.

#my writing #bad future #if youve seen my timeline #this takes place after donnie dies #and mikey vanishes for a long time because hes pissed #anyway goodmorning *throws this at you like a flashbang*#oops! my little brother will die of old age far before me

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jinjeriffic · 4 months

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DC x DP prompt/ficlet

Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:

Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...

Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.

While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!

Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.

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

Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED

Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE

Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?

RR: I would like to know that too

Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!

RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?

FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...

RR: Shit

Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??

FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...

Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!

RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*

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

Some time and explanations later...

Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?

Tim: Fml

RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that

Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English

RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics

Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times

RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...

Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that

Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway

Danny: That's what you took from that??

RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.

Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole

RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...

Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*

Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?

RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no

Danny and Tim: Fuck

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

Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.

They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...

Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*

Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...

Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #tim drake #red robin #danny fenton #ficlet #batman #batfam #accidental marriage #arranged marriage

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xervn · 1 month

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like a french girl 🎨

part 3 - french girl | art major ellie x dance major reader

last chapter | next chapter

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 3.8k words | slow burn(?), mutual pining, loser ellie, recreational drug use (weed)

a/n: this took so long because im an intp AND a taurus *makes excuses for myself* also tysm to everyone who commented on the last chapter ur amazing and ily ♥

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Ellie’s in nothing but her underwear, legs criss-crossed on her navy comforter; holding a joint between her lips as she tunes the strings of her maple wood guitar. It’s a lazy Saturday, the one day out of seven where Ellie isn’t constantly tormented by homework and art projects.

These days are practically therapeutic for her. Being able to strum her fingers against the nylon strings and relish in the relaxing, skunky smell of cannabis can fix all of her problems. Minus one, of course: getting to know you better.

For now, she’s at peace with doing nothing, that is until a loud ding goes off and the brightness of her phone flashbangs her otherwise dim-lit room. She scowls, exhaling a puff from her lungs as she reaches over for the device. Ellie has friends, but she’s no social butterfly. Her phone is usually dry, especially on weekends. Jesse is definitely with Dina, so unless it's serious; there’s no reason for her to be getting a text.

Naturally, her scowl deepens when she reads that the number is unknown.

???: hii

ellie: wrong number

She opts to toss her phone away, but the next message throws her off track.

you: it’s — !

Ellie’s eyes widen at her screen like your name is a hypnotic spiral. She can feel her heart swelling well within her chest, and she’s left wondering if the weed she’s smoking is laced or if she somehow manifested you. Ellie quickly transfers her blunt in one hand and her phone in the other, straining her thumb trying to type as fast as she can to you.

ellie: oh hdy!

ellie: hey*

you: dina gave me ur number, i hope that’s okay

ellie: yeah ofc it is :-)

ellie: i was planning on giving it to you

Ellie typed that half-lie slowly, weighing how true it really was as she pressed send. It was on her plan of things she’d like to do before dying, but even then she doesn’t think she would ever gain the courage.

you: oh thank god

you: i thought i might be intruding 🙁

ellie: never, what’s up?

you: can i ask you something?

ellie: yes of course aks me anythign

ellie: ask* anything* shut sorry

ellie: SHIT

you: lmao are you okay??

ellie: yeah… forget about that, ask away

you: well i was wondering if you could help me study? im failing my anatomy class..

you: if u can’t it’s okay though!

A sheepish grin spreads across Ellie’s face, as she thinks about all the scenarios that could lead to. To think she’d finally have an excuse to see you after weeks of hoping, of praying for the opportunity. You asked her for help instead of taking other options, especially considering how much easier it would’ve been for you to.

ellie: its no problem, id be glad to help :-)

you: really?? ur a lifesaver els, tysmm

you: when are you free?

ellie: Right now.

ellie: or whenever .

you: let’s meet at the library in 20?

Almost instantly, Ellie’s excitement warps into anxiety. She wasn’t particularly ready to see you and twenty minutes doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to get her shit together. She thought you’d ignore her impulsive desperation of “right now” and set plans for a later date, but, alas, you didn’t.

Ellie rubs her forehead with her blunt holding hand, trying to scratch the itch of her worries away with just her pinky and thumb. Despite her increasing knowledge of you over the past few weeks, she was still incredibly nervous to be around you.

Ellie takes one final hit of her joint before snuffing it out in a doob tube on her nightstand. She sets her guitar against her bed and nearly falls off trying to get up in a rush, even though she has more than enough time to get ready.

She stumbles around the room to put something on, settling with a gray hoodie and a pair of jeans. She attempts to keep her balance as she hastily shoves each leg through her pants; simultaneously eyeing around her room in an attempt to remember where exactly she put her anatomy textbooks.

Ellie hears a familiar ding from her bed and she snaps towards it to pick up her phone, peering at the screen.

you: ellie?

Ellie curses under her breath, scolding herself for forgetting to text you back. She taps on the keyboard, quickly making sure she doesn’t manage another typo before hitting send.

ellie: sorry! yeah i’ll see you in twenty!

you: awesome :)

—

You weren’t ready to see Ellie either, you figured, since it took you hours to actually text her. You made up far-fetched scenarios with the worst outcomes; the one where she immediately deletes your number tormented you for quite a while. Now you’re trudging across campus to meet her, internally at war with your mixed emotions. On one hand you get to hang out with a cute girl and on the other you’re hanging out with a really cute girl. Alone. Zero friends around.

There’s a chance you two might not have anything to talk about. You guys are only mutual friends after all. Even if you guys somehow manage to start a conversation, what if she comes to not like you by the end of it, or vice versa? Not to mention the window incident you’re both hoping the other forgot.

You hesitate in your steps as you reach the library doors. It’d only take a few seconds to spin around and walk back, but how could you leave her there? You thoughtlessly chew on your lip, eyes worriedly shifting around.

You can’t recall any moment you’ve been so anxious about meeting up with a girl before. Not once, not even in a distant memory. You’ve always been the bolder one in your endeavors. The fact that Ellie is the only girl to make you feel this way has to mean something. You slowly pace in front of the doors in an attempt to dissipate your worries, nodding to your inner thoughts and ignoring the probable concerned stares in the distance. You’re the one who invited her, so you’re gonna stick it the fuck through. You couldn’t bail before testing the waters, you’d never forgive yourself.

So you barge into the building, letting the cool air hit your face from the swinging doors; granting you a waft of leather and drying ink. The building was decorated with freakishly tall dark wood bookshelves; so high, there were beige ladders in place to reach the top shelves. As expected, it was quiet, empty and definitely overfunded. Studying has never been your forte and you’ve never stepped in this building; save for a few dance history books. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for everyone else. Thankfully, one pro definitely outweighs those cons. Ellie was going to help you study. Ellie is the reason you’re here at all.

You tidy up your outfit that you diligently put together and roam farther into the library, trying to hold down a smile that’s impossible to hold down. In fact, it completely takes over your face. You need to simmer down your giddiness before you start skipping around. You purse your lips and briefly steady your eyes on the dark, olive carpeted floor ahead of you.

You head towards the front desk that’s just a sunken step away with the intention of asking for directions to the study hall. An older lady is sitting there, glowering with obvious annoyance definitely because of your loud entry. It’s been ages since you’ve been in the library— your failing grade proves that— and clearly you’ve forgotten all the rules with it.

A flash of guilt passes through you and you force an apologetic smile. She returns it with a grunt and you immediately redirect yourself further into the library; aimlessly in search for the study hall.

You’ve been walking around for a solid five minutes and you swear you’ve passed the same fantasy section a million times now. It’d be smart to text Ellie and tell her you’ll be late, but your ego won’t let you.

The looming large, ornate bookshelves certainly don’t make it any easier for you to navigate around.

The question of why the school spent so much money on all this occupies your mind as you venture further. You make a turn around a corner you’ve definitely made before, and you sigh at the familiarity of the area in front of you.

You keep pressing forward anyway, hoping you can manage a new route this time around.

Before you can make another turn, you’re interrupted by drowned footsteps behind you blending into your own, followed by a tap on your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch, sharply turning around only to see Ellie looking at you with a downward smile.

“Lost?” She sarcastically presumes, her viridescent eyes taking in your shocked yet relieved expression.

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack between your fingers, shyly glancing around you. “No, I was just… looking for more textbooks.” You nod sagely at your own words, as if you’re trying to convince yourself too.

“Oh? Next to—“ The auburn-haired girl squints at the shelf behind you before adorning a wide grin, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets?”

Your brows raise and you follow her eyes onto the obviously fiction-filled bookcase. “Uh, yeah? I’ve got Professor Snape at four.”

Ellie narrows her eyes at you in amused disbelief, trying not to laugh at your adorably dorky excuse.

Dramatically sighing in defeat, “Fuck, okay, you got me.” You say lowly, a bashful smile developing on your lips.

“You passed the study hall five times. I counted.” Ellie goads.

You partially suppress your laugh, mindlessly giving her arm a light smack. “Oh, my god. Don’t tell me that!”

She dotes on your laughter and your touch; whether it was intentional or not. Either way, she’s feeling good about herself now and her previous worries about this encounter floated away, and you could safely say the same.

“It’s a good book though, we can go back and get it. No need to be shy about it.” Ellie quips.

“Shush!”

—

With Ellie as your guide, the trip to the study hall was much easier than you made it out to be. You recognized the big glass windows you passed by often and when you stepped into it, you flushed with embarrassment. It was a direct contrast to the old-fashioned, mahogany colored library you’d been meandering around.

Ellie really could’ve counted the times you walked by, and she really did. The first time, she thought you must’ve seen a friend and left to catch up with them. However, the second time around she realized you might be lost.

She was going to text you and tell you to turn around, but she thought it was cute seeing you walk in circles, ignoring literally every sign in your way. By the fourth time, she could tell you thought you were in a time loop and she found it fucking hilarious. Someone like you, seemingly exceptional in everything but directions. The fifth time came and, of course, she decided she was being cruel and had to come help you herself.

Ellie leads you to the desk where she’s set camp at, and the amount of books and paperwork makes you dizzy. “Jesus, Els. Are you teaching me the entire course?”

She takes a seat before giving you an answer, “Well.. That depends on how bad you’re failing.”

You take a seat across from her, setting your backpack on the floor before resting your forearms on the oak table. “My teacher said I was dumb as fuck and essentially called me a homophobic slur.” You’re exaggerating, obviously, but that was exactly what it felt like.

Ellie scoffs out a sound, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended for you. “Damn... It’s Bill, isn’t it? God, that guy is a fuckin’ prick.” She questions, clearly unsurprised by his actions.

You sit upright in your chair, relief shining through your words, “Yes! Is that his thing?”

Ellie casually leans back, thinking back to when she was a student of his. “Oh, yeah. He’s a blunt guy, shitty filter,” She continues, and somehow you’re both meeting each other’s looks, “But he’s fair with his grades, n’ I know it doesn’t make it any better, but he has a husband. He’s just… old.. and grumpy.”

You try to consider that he is letting you retake a major grade. You guess you could appreciate that somewhat. “True... still, the comment was unprovoked. You must know him well though?”

“Yeah, I took his class last year. We were at each other's throats about coursework n’ shit. Really hard to reason with that guy.” Ellie purposely leaves out the part where she was being unreasonable too, but only for the sake of storytelling, of course. “Then that summer, I saw him at a family gathering.” She finishes off with a dramatic shiver in disgust and you laugh at how endearing it was.

“Anyways, his gaydar is somethin’ else. I can never tell.” She admits, carelessly waving a hand in the air. Ellie’s radar in particular is broken. Shattered, even. She can’t keep track of the amount of times she has stood in the shower, realizing a girl was flirting with her only days later.

“Even with me?”

“Even with you...” She speaks with artificial sadness and a slight sulk.

“Ouch… I’m wounded.” You fake a frown, slightly dropping your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes fall to your nails; some suspiciously shorter than the others, and all painted in your favorite color. “But… that I know for sure, I can definitely tell.” Ellie comments.

A swarm of butterflies suddenly parade your belly, and you shine a coy smile her way. “They’re not short because of that…” Your half-hearted attempt to defend yourself drips in the lightness of your voice.

Ellie briefly raises her eyebrows with a sly smile plastered on her face, folding her arms over her chest; which, unbeknownst to you, was to shield how hard her heart was thumping. She’s shocked she hasn’t turned into a pile of mush yet, probably thanks to her smoke session earlier.

“I’m serious! I keep my hands to myself.” You continue on, putting in a little effort in your voice for your defense this time. For the most part it is true, lately your mind has been on Ellie, and Ellie only. The thought of random flings didn't excite you, but she did. However, it wasn’t not true that you’ve had a fair share of hookups. You’re in an art school, how could you not?

“C’mon, just yourself? I’m sure you've cared to share.” Ellie playfully pokes around you with her words; nonchalant and prone for a reaction.

Your jaw slightly drops, making your head tilt to the side incredulously. “Wow. What makes you think that?”

Ellie unfolds her tattooed arm to rub her palm against the back of her neck, responding unexpectedly timid, “Hey, ‘m not blind. I know you’re popular.”

You snicker at her explanation and shake your head. “They’re friends. You can be friends with girls even if you’re gay, Ellie.”

“Friends don’t touch you like that.” She notes with an uncharacteristically stern expression.

It surprises you for a second, but all it makes you wanna do is poke fun, tease her, and see where it’d go. “Like what?”

Ellie sighs, reluctantly explaining further, “Like they’ve touched you before.”

“Straight girls are touchy.” You shrug, purposefully ignoring what she tried to imply.

The way you said it so matter-of-factly makes Ellie’s eyes roll. “You know I don’t mean it like– ugh, my judgment is usually fucked up, but that? That I can tell the difference with.” Ellie states with surety.

You narrow your gaze at her, a teasing grin forming on your lips. “What are you jealous or something?”

“Of you or the girls?”

“Oh, the girls were an option?” You playfully remark, but also with honest curiosity in how she’d answer.

Ellie clears her throat and leans forward to place her textbooks into view, trying to hide the blush spreading across her features. She’s not doing a great job at it and you’d love to tease her some more, but you can settle with taking the win for now.

—

Night crept up faster than you both anticipated, the ambient sounds of paper printing and carts rolling by were no longer prevalent. The only thing filling the room is the buzz of the light fixture above and the words you two exchange. The table is cluttered with Ellie’s open notes and some textbooks with neon page markers poking out the sides. It wasn’t organized by any means, but it was a mess you both found easy to work around.

Surprisingly, Ellie is a great tutor. When she saw your paper, she didn’t make fun of you like you thought she would. Instead, she expressed how grating it is to remember all that crap and you shouldn’t give yourself a hard time over it.

To help you memorize the muscles of the body, you guys settled on one area and made up silly rhymes for it. She tried to argue that brachiosaurus was perfect for brachialis even though it didn’t even rhyme. You even gave her the chance to pick a different one, but then she said brachyceratops with a mockingly straight face and you knew she couldn’t be trusted for the task anymore.

The air between you two wasn’t stuffy or silent like you feared it’d be. Ellie made you laugh, not in the breathy forced way you’ve unknowingly gotten used to making.

She made sure you listened to her tips & tricks, made you review your mistakes so you wouldn’t repeat them again.

You hadn’t picked up your phone for anything other than to google things on the subject, and your ringer? Off. Your attention never strayed far from her. That made her undeniably nervous– sweaty, and hard for her to breathe normally, but she could acknowledge how well she was doing.

Ellie’s head is dipped down to a paper you two were working on and you’re openly ogling, wondering how she’d look in a pair of glasses. Flipping through papers, tapping the back of a pen on her inviting lips. You tell yourself you snap back to reality before your mind strays any further.

“If we keep this up, you’ll remember it all in no time” She encourages, eyes still glued on the paper. Secretly, she hopes it takes a little longer. Just a little.

“Thanks for helping me out, Els.” You say, face tilted into the palm of your hand.

Ellie looks up from the paper to give you a smile, but she doesn’t hold her gaze for long. A millisecond later and her blush would have you thinking she had a sudden, terrible fever.

“It’s no problem. It helps me out too.” Ellie points to the examples she sketched out for you with her pencil. She pauses before speaking again, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth, “Can I ask you something?”

Studying her expectantly, you lift your head off your hand. “Yeah?”

Ellie fidgets with her pencil, trying to muster up courage. Her mouth feels dry trying to push out the words. “I’m also struggling with a class and uh,” she twirls her pencil in one hand, tucking a sliver of her hair behind her ear with the other, “I was wondering if you could be the model for my art final?” Her question came out whinier than she’d like it to, making her freckled-face wince.

You can sense how nervous she is about asking, but you can’t place your finger on why she ever would be. This is the first time anyone has ever asked you something like this, so in your mind it’s nothing but exciting, especially coming from her. You can already imagine yourself sitting prettily still while Ellie studies you and paints long, fancy strokes on a yellow canvas. “Ellie, are you kidding? I’d love to.”

Her lashes flutter in disbelief, “Really?”

“You’re helping me, so why not? It’s fair.”

“It’s kind of a weird thing to ask. I mean, we barely know each other.” Ellie murmurs, unaware that you have absolutely no idea what she’s on about.

You lift a brow at her. “We will eventually, right? What’s weird about a portrait anyways?”

“It’s not a portrait… Well, I guess it is–“ Ellie sighs into her palm, “I’m drawing you, but…” She cringes before she can finish her sentence.

“A portrait in pencil? What am l missing?” You slowly question.

“Think Titanic.” She grimaces as she waits for your reaction, trying not to bang her head on the table for picking Titanic of all movies.

“Titanic? What does that have to do with…” Your voice trails off, quieting down so you can process what Ellie said. Think Titanic. It's hard for you to connect what the 1997 romance movie had to with this, but when it connected, it connected. The infamous drawing scene was memorable. You’re in awe, not quite sure how to react.

“You don’t have to be fully… y’know..” Ellie insists.

Your face is still unreadable, as if you're lost in thought, and it’s freaking her out. Too many what-ifs are going through her head, all of them gradually getting worse the longer you stay silent. She thinks she got too close to the sun when she had more than enough warmth. She's already preparing herself for rejection, worryingly scouting your face for a hint of revulsion; however, it never comes.

“Oh. Okay.” You calmly respond with a shrug, your face still unreadable; the only difference being a light smile. You could’ve thought about it longer, but you’re so flattered Ellie wants you to pose for her that you rather worry about it later. She wants to sketch your body onto paper. Yours. It sounds vulnerable and a little nerve wracking, but she’s your friend. A friend you have a crush on, sure, but you wouldn’t want to inconvenience her over it. Plus, you owe her now. Really, you’re purely being selfless. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Okay?” Ellie repeats to make sure she was hearing things right.

“Like I said, you’re doing this for me, so I’ll do it for you.” You reassure, gesturing around to the study session laid across the table.

“Are you sure? You know I’ll still tutor you, even if you say no–”

“— Do you not want me to?” You pout your lips, hoping she hasn't changed her mind already.

“Are you shitting me? Of course I do. I just… didn’t expect you to say yes.” Ellie finally says, absolutely dumbfounded given her hand movements.

You laugh melodically, “Didn’t think that far, huh?”

“Nope.” She answers with a cute embarrassed smile, her blood rushing to her face.

Your phone buzzes, probably a text or notification. You reach out and shove a few papers to the side to get to it before taking a look, only for your eyes to be drawn to the time. “Shit. It’s late. I think the library closes soon…” You murmur regretfully, feeling all too comfortable where you were.

Ellie presses her tongue against her cheek in annoyance, upset that time dared to pass by as fast as it did. “We should get going then, I guess.” She says dejectedly, not wanting to leave you just yet.

You peep her suddenly gray aura and smile warmly towards her. “Can you walk me back to my dorms?”

She nods with subtle enthusiasm and pushes out of her seat, immediately packing all her belongings to join your side. “Yes! — I mean, sure. Yeah.”

—-

The lamp post lights are warm and waning, complimenting the shadows on both your faces. You two walk down the dark flagstone path towards the housing area, chatting about nothing. It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with her before the night is over. Unfortunately, you guys were drawing closer and closer to your dorm and the feeling of loss came as quick as it left.

“Hey, Els?”

She glanced at you and hummed in response, giving you the signal to continue. “I was wondering if you were gonna be at some party tomorrow? Apparently Dina’s co-hosting it.”

Ellie looks at you quizzically before looking off elsewhere to think. “Why the fuck would they party on a Sunday?”

You snort out a laugh before lifting and dropping your shoulders, “I don’t know, senioritis or something. Will you come though?”

“Mhm, I’ll be there.” She smiles as she speaks, loving how your face lit up by the end of it. Ellie isn’t too fond of parties, but for you? She can make an exception.

You cheer in a whisper tone and it makes Ellie smile harder, her features creasing in adoration. You two finally approach your dorm building. You walk up a step before turning to wave goodbye. She raises a palm in return and you flash her a smile that makes her heart leap before turning into the building.

If Ellie couldn’t tell before, she’s completely enamored by you.

daily click to help palestine interested in auto-sending ceasefire emails to congress? visit this (ios)

a/n: fuck jk rowling but i rlly couldnt think of any other commonly known fantasy book :/

taglist: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliesactualgirlfriend

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ᝰ like a french girl

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comatosebunny09 · 2 months

Text

firestarter [ pt. 2 ] | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, erotica, mild angst warning(s): mutual pining, explicit language, female reader, pet names summary: “you’re a shitty liar, you know that?” leon rasps against your lips. etches a sluggish triangle between your mouth and eyes, his breath fanning across your cheeks, turning your brain into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. the hand at your throat doesn’t help matters, squeezing with enough pressure to turn your lungs to cinder. music inspo: champagne cool - jackson wang spin bout u - drake & 21 savage notes: part 2 to this. thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoy! ❤️❤️❤️

It’s a rhythmic tapping that draws you from your catnap.

Knocking that hauls you from the softness of your couch, the news channel droning in the background as you blink away the fog. The floor is icy beneath your feet while you pad over to your front door to answer it. Not really thinking, forgoing the peephole to throw it open.

Sunlight filters in, blinding like a flashbang. You squint against its brilliance, your vision slowly wading through shapes and colors. And if you weren’t already awake before …

“Hey, stranger,” Leon Kennedy drawls from the threshold, tone brassy as if he’s just awoken himself. You feel it in your chest. Curling around you like smoke, weakening your knees.

He bears a youthful smile while he leans against the doorframe in an easy slouch, gazing down at you with such fondness. Clad in grey joggers and a black tee that does little to disguise the power of his body, a slither of abdomen peeking from beneath.

Your lids flutter, dispelling the final vestiges of sleep. Mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, throat growing dry. Your arms fall listlessly at your sides, your voice turning to ash.

He takes your silence as a welcome. Wears a somewhat guilty expression as he holds up a small, white bag, condensation beading inside. “Brought Chinese,” Leon offers, shaking it for good measure. A peace offering more than a greeting. Surprisingly good-natured, considering you’ve dodged him since you returned from your mission a week ago.

You step aside, completely on autopilot. Still dumbfounded as your partner maneuvers past you into your apartment, carrying the scent of ocean waves and teakwood with him. You flinch at the chaste kiss he presses to your cheek. At the graze of a callused palm on your hip, searing you through the fabric of your sweats.

Gaze fixated on the rail in front of your apartment, your lips twitch into a sardonic smile. Least he has food, you inwardly snort, slowly closing the door. Wait for a few beats with your head bowed and your hands frozen on the lock, preparing yourself for the unavoidable.

You square your shoulders with a sigh, trailing after his shadow towards your living room.

But, it’s surprisingly easy to fall back into tempo with him.

With you both sinking into the couch, your legs stretched across his lap. Large hands rubbing your feet, a ghostly smile rounding his lips when you giggle and squeal as he tickles them every so often. Feel at ease when he kneads the muscles of your calves. A softness to his ministrations like he’s missed this—missed you. And you catch him watching you in your peripheral as if he wants to say something. Yet, neither of you wants to break up the monotony of the moment.

Takeout lies partially eaten on your coffee table. Drinks half full. The T.V. flickers mindlessly over your bodies, the only source of light permeating the darkness of your home. Your attention is elsewhere, dispersed amongst the clouds as you chew on your lip.

Sure, you’re still a little rigid. Still guarded after you bared your thoughts. The dreams haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve grown in intensity. More vivid, painted across the walls of your hallway, floors, bedroom, the fucking bathroom …

Warmth inhabits your cheeks at the memory. You slap a hand over your face, a muted groan burbling from your throat. You’ve had nothing but time to relive your fantasies, having taken a week off following your reconnaissance mission. Sparingly spoke to the object of your desires, your texts and phone calls brief. Made room for good mornings and good nights, fearing anything longer would result in your partner breaking off whatever this is.

His hand sears your wrist, slowly drawing it away from your mouth. “You alright?” Leon cautions, wariness dwelling in his timbre.

You nod with your stomach in knots and your heart on your sleeves. Try to ignore how his grip on you lingers and his thumb skates placatingly over the veins of your hand.

“Hey,” he husks. Insistent as ever, tugging you closer toward the safety of his body. An arm slings around your shoulders, nimble fingers creeping under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. “Hey, talk to me.” His proximity makes your head spin. The calmness of his voice squeezes something in your chest. You’re finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. And you’re looking at his mouth without thinking, entranced by how the delicate flesh trembles and parts with each breath. “What’s on your mind?”

You shake your head dismissively, averting your gaze to the side. “N-nothing.” A lie as obvious as the palpable tension between you, and he fucking knows it. He seizes your jaw again, leveling his steely blues with you.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” No. Not really. Because all you’ve wanted to do since he walked through your door was peel his shirt from his shoulders and sit on his—

His chuckle, husky and rich like chocolate, breaks through the swell of lustful thoughts. “You’re a shitty liar, you know that?” Leon says, etching a sluggish triangle between your mouth and hooded lids.

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy x female reader #leon kennedy smut #leon x reader smut #resident evil 4 x reader #re4 x reader #kindle series

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lululandd · 10 months

Text

but not for me;

pairing: könig x gn!reader

word count: 602

warnings: self-doubt, anxiety, insecurity, angst(?)

notes: gremlin man’s stupid anxiety wont shut the fuck up (the notes and summary can be switched) (ao3)

summary: könig believes he’s hard to love.

He dreads going home. He is afraid to see your face when he opens the front door. It burns him so to feel such a negative emotion towards you; to even have such adverse reactions.

Sometimes he believes you to be superhuman, being able to hear his military boots crunching on the gravel by the front gate from wherever you are in the house; and run to him with arms wide open and smile brighter than the flashbangs they throw at him.

That’s why he never looks at it directly.

And why he notices everything else.

How you look like you’ve lost weight when he returns, the dark circles under your eyes that disappear when he’s home, the stories his grandmother told him about your puffy, swollen red eyes and your hoarse voice when you come visit her.

He sees you hurting, no, he feels you hurting. From the way you look up at him every time his phone buzzed, to the way you flinch whenever there’s a truck passing by. It agonises him, every little pain of yours magnified in his mind.

He does not deserve such a person like you. Who wakes him up so sweetly with kisses, who soothes his joint pains with balms everytime the weather turns sour, who walks his grandmother to wherever her old heart desires before the crack of dawn.

You deserve a relationship that enables you to sleep peacefully at night.

A delicate kiss to his temple startled him from his thoughts.

“You were somewhere else.”

He apologised by pulling you into his lap. “I am here now.” His attention turns to you, smiling faintly as he kisses your hand–hands that have never known violence, hands that have never taken a life–and closed his eyes for a moment.

Not two days later he would tell you. To leave him, to find someone better that would not make you lose sleep and weight and happiness. Someone who can provide and care every time you need it.

You stared at him for the longest time, gaze empty and distant. He had accounted for tears, he expected yelling, he knows there will be lots of arguing. But grabbing a chair to stand on only to slap him properly and squarely on the cheek until his ears rang? He could not have seen it coming.

You wobbled a bit; he had to steady you by your upper arms so you don’t fall out of the chair.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, as if you were the one that got slapped so hard that it triggered a tinnitus.

Your smile was fragile, in contrast to the anger he sees in your eyes, “Tell me, König. Have you fallen out of love? Are you in love with someone else?”

He shook his head before he could comprehend your question. Your words have struck him, harder than the slap you just delivered. How could there be anyone else but you? It’s always you. It will always be you. To him you are a necessity, a need. The thought of him with someone else brought a wave of uncomfortable pressure that he hasn’t done enough.

You cupped his jaw and tears rolled heavily down his face in torrents as you placed his head delicately on your chest. Such tenderness for someone whose filthy, brutish hands has known nothing but carnage and death since the tender age of seventeen.

As if you can hear what he is thinking, “Do I need to slap you harder to get those thoughts out of your head?”

He giggled despite the sniffles and hiccups.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig call of duty #konig call of duty #call of duty #scuffed writing

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serverusslaype · 7 months

Text

Shameless, pt. 7

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

omg hi guys… this chapter was so long and hard to write (that’s what she said), I got stuck many times, but here it is!! It’s definitely not my favourite chapter so.. it was sort of a filler one, just to establish some information and plot sort of thing. The next chapter will be a little more interesting because we will be starting Prisoner of Azkaban woooo!!

Okay. So here is part 7, don’t kill me. It’s kinda long again, almost as long as part 5, if not longer!!

LETSAGOOO!!

The crack in your curtains caused a stream of bright, blinding sunlight to stir you awake; a raspy and throaty groan bubbling in your throat as the pounding pain of an alcohol-induced headache began to stab at your temples. Nothing better than a hangover, right?

Another strangled groan left your lips as you rolled over in your bed, your arm falling out from underneath the covers. As quick as lightning, you tucked it back in once the cool and chilly breeze began to nip at it. You cracked open your eyes, noticing that you'd left your window open during the night, and you'd hardly even bothered to draw your curtains properly. You slapped your hands against your face as you tried to wrack your brain for any indication as to how the hell you ended up like this. Gods, did you get blackout drunk? It certainly felt like it...

A stab of pain struck your chest as you remembered Snape ordering you to get out of his office late yesterday afternoon. You quickly skipped past that memory with a soft yet strained sigh and found yourself with Hagrid in a forest. Ah yes, you went to go see Buckbeak after bumping into the groundskeeper. You continued to think back, soon finding the culprit of your hangover. In your mind, you were currently sat in Hagrid's hut, your fingers wrapped tightly around a goblet of Elven wine.

Oh, yes, you thought, wincing slightly as the memory of the two of you drinking at least two, possibly three, bottles of it together. You unwillingly sat up in your very messy bed, your hair sticking out in all sorts of directions. You groaned again, squeezing your eyes shut as you slipped out of it and stumbled towards your window and braced yourself for a moment before ripping them open.

"Fuck!" You croaked out, stumbling back as the blinding light broke through. It was like someone had just chucked a flashbang grenade in your room. Your eyes burned and you felt like shoving your head down a very dark hole. Wait, what time was it?

Quickly throwing a glance to your right and checking the clock on your wall, you sighed in slight relief, noticing it was around ten in the morning. Perhaps it was time to go for a walk to clear your head - more to subside the throbbing that was currently attacking it.

Strolling down the corridors, you were rather keen to get outside and breathe in the fresh air; the thought of it made your body tingle. Considering it was Winter break now, you had opted to wear a casual, below-the-knee dress. It was a deep forest green, almost emerald. The sleeves reached your wrists and it had an elegant and square neckline that showed off your collarbones. The skirt was circular, so, if and when you twirled around, the skirt would flare outwards.

Nearing the corner, your eyes flicked to a darker, unlit corridor, a rush of unpinpointable dread suddenly surging through your body. You immediately stopped in your tracks at the uncomfortable feeling and turned towards it, narrowing your eyes. You couldn't figure out why your body had reacted so unusually to the darkened corridor. You stared for a few more moments before walking away, glancing at it confusedly as you passed by. It was probably just your hangover-induced anxiety making things up in your head.

As you rounded the corner that would take you to the stairs down to the ground floor, your eyes were immediately met with a dark, harrowing pair that you had come to adore - regretfully, might you add. You froze in your spot, unsure of what to do or say. It felt like someone had just cast Petrificus Totalus on your body. You swallowed harshly as Snape's eyes stared back at you, obviously in the same predicament. Neither of you said anything. In all honesty, you were too hungover to deal with this.

It felt like someone had stolen the air from Severus's lungs the moment he laid his eyes on your tired form. Seeing you dressed in such a beautiful, elegant emerald dress made it hard for him to breathe normally. Last night, when you tried to kiss him, that didn't make it any easier on him. It took all of his strength to step away from you. He wanted to kiss you, obviously, but he didn't want it to happen like that. Not that it could, anyway. With Snape's vast, traumatic and dangerous history, he couldn't put you in harms way because of his emotions. He wouldn't allow it. He couldn't bear to see you die, you didn't deserve that, and he didn't deserve you.

As another several seconds of silence passed, Snape seemed to ground himself. His posture straightened, and he resumed his dramatic walk to continue stepping past you. He pushed his distracting thoughts of you to the side of his mind, his eyes tearing away from you and staring straight ahead as if he hadn't just spent the past couple of seconds staring at you like you were the most beautiful being he'd ever laid his godforsaken eyes on. In fact, he acted like you were never there at all. As he passed right by you, your lips twitched and your eyes began to burn again. Gods, you hated how easily he could influence your emotions with a singular action. You stood still in your place, balling your fists in an act of silent rage, sucking in a shaky breath with a muffled sob; your teeth biting down unbearably hard on your bottom lip in a weak attempt to hide your cries.

You were suddenly wishing you'd never returned to Hogwarts, even though it was your lifelong dream the second you walked through those doors. The only thought on your mind right now was Hagrid, and even then you were doubtful his happy energy could cheer you up. You thought it was also rather selfish to come running to the man the second you were in tears. He wasn't your stuffed animal that you cried into each night. However, you could really do with his presence right now, so you pushed those thoughts aside, for now.

So, there you were, rushing off down the stairs; the clacking of your heels echoing throughout the stairwell like a choir singing in an empty cathedral. You found yourself running the second you reached the outside, your lungs burning from the way you were breathing so raggedly. The cold breeze had never felt so good against your skin, and you dared to say it felt more comforting than when Snape had taken your hand when you offered him a dance in his office two nights ago.

Tears were freely flowing down your cheeks now, your fingers flying up to wipe them away in an aggressive, careless fashion. Hagrid's hut was coming into view as you continued to run across the dull green grass, specks of wet mud and soil painting your shoes and ankles. As you reached the crookedly built hut, you slowed down and bent over with your hands on your knees, waiting for a moment to catch your breath. Perhaps some more exercise would do you good.

Suddenly, you heard the creaking of Hagrid's door opening. "Oh, 'ello, Y/N," Hagrid said happily, a surprised smile painting his face as he stared down at you. Though, he quickly noticed you weren't okay. "Are ya cryin' again?..." He questioned softly, noticing the way you slowly leant upwards, your eyes puffy and red once again. Hagrid looked at you with such sympathetic eyes that you were worried he was going to set you off crying again.

"No," you lied as your voice broke and went up an octave, your fingers rushing up to grab the bridge of your nose. "...Yes." A frustrated sigh left your lips.

"D'ya wanna talk abou' it?" Hagrid asked cautiously, his eyes searching you for an answer. You hesitated for moment, debating whether to pour your heart out to him - to tell him how much grief Severus Snape, of all people, was causing you. He wouldn't believe you for a second.

"Err, I don't think you'd believe me." You laughed dryly, your heart twisting into a conflicted knot as you thought about the raven-haired Potion Master.

"Try me." Hagrid tilted his head at you gently. You scrunched your nose up at him and swallowed. This was going to be a long and tiresome conversation.

That was the last day that you could remember running to Hagrid in tears, which was around a week ago now. You'd told him as much as you could without making yourself seem like a complete fool, however, you weren't exactly convinced - despite Hagrid's multiple promises - that he didn't view you as one now. Having feelings for the most emotionally inept, cold and ruthless wizard at Hogwarts was not an easy feat, and you wished things were different for you. Perhaps if you were a tough, brave Gryffindor or a sly, witty Slytherin, you'd be able to handle it. However, your little Hufflepuff heart was at the end of it's tether and Snape's nonchalant and cruel words were starting to chip away at the walls you'd built around it to protect it from even more harm.

You were a little late to dinner this evening, and so you didn't have much of a choice in seating. The last chair available was the one next to Snape, and you were incredibly tempted to just leave it for the night, however, your stomach was gurgling like a mad baby as you had skipped lunch earlier to catch up on some grading. You pursed your lips and silently cursed yourself for such a silly choice. Biting down on the bullet, you sucked in a deep breath. With one foot forwards, you began to pad towards the empty chair, placing your hand on the back of it to draw it outwards, purposefully creating an ear-piercing screeching noise to piss off Snape. It undoubtedly worked, as a whirl of petty pride settled in your bones as his head snapped up to look at you, his eyes piercing you with a deadly glare.

"Apologies," You said in a low tone, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. You sat yourself down, not bothering to look at him.

"Perhaps you should be sitting with the students," Snape said bitterly, glancing to the tables in front of you, "considering you're willing to act so childish." There was a bite at the end of his words, his voice spiked with irritation.

"I think you'd suit them better, Severus." You replied, gritting your teeth, still avoiding his eyes.

"You must be deluded to think that." He scoffed at you, his lips turning downwards into a cruel sneer.

"Going to tell me to leave again?" You bit back at him. Snape's head snapped towards you again. Clearly that comment got underneath his skin.

"Going to barge into my office again, when you were clearly unwanted and unwelcome?" Snape's lip twitched as he stared at you, his deep, cold voice penetrating you like a spear. It was your turn to be hurt. You felt your heart twist and your eyes burn at his words.

You let your eyes fall to your hands for a moment, wallowing in your hurt. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, and spoke once more.

"I pity you." Was all you said, voice quiet and timid. In your head, you were trying to win the unwavering war against the tears forming in your eyes. Gods, you loathed how emotional you were sometimes. Wouldn't life be so much fucking easier if you were a sociopath? Psychopath, maybe? You suddenly found yourself envying the unfeeling and socially-detached dark witches and wizards that caused havoc amongst the wizarding world.

No, life would probably be easier if weren't so hung up on such a cold-blooded man.

"That is rather comical," Snape said, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "Do you remember that night I found you inebriated in the corridors?" You turned towards him, that familiar rush of butterflies exploding in your stomach as your eyes met his for the first time tonight. You hated and loved the feeling. It was like a drug to you, a highly illegal one at that.

You were quiet, a blush burning into your cheeks as you and Severus continued to stare into each other's eyes, silently playing a game of Chicken. Snape stared at you, scrutinising you. His taunting tone had caught your attention, and it scared you. Had you done something so stupid that night to force him into pretending like you didn't exist again?

"Of course you don't." He sneered at your lack of an answer, his unbrushed hair falling to the left a tad as he tilted his head at you in a condescending fashion. "Too busy indulging in your own selfish pleasures with that gigantic oaf that dwells with the creatures in the Forbidden Forest. Fitting, really, wouldn't you say?"

Your mouth fell open at the way he'd insulted Hagrid, and you really could not believe what you had just heard. "Excuse me?" You scoffed.

"Need I repeat myself?" Snape grunted, his fingers flying up to massage the bridge of his nose in irritation. Your brows furrowed in utter confusion and partial anger at him. You'd let him insult you, but insulting anyone else that you held dear to you was crossing the line.

"Why must you be so rude and horrible at times, Severus? You were so different in your office that night," you sighed exasperatedly, "You were a totally different person." You added quietly, your voice soft. Snape shut his eyes for a couple seconds, his brows slowly furrowing together, silently fending off his emotions that were dying to break through.

"That night was a mistake. You never should have come." Snape spat. Your eyes widened in shock at his words, and you could almost hear the crack that split your heart in two. Did he really just say that to your face? He really... felt that way? That night when the two of you crossed a line, he thought it was a mistake, something to forget about; to dismiss like it was nothing. How could he possibly think that? You saw the way he looked at you, and you had been sure that there was something more between the two of you. The way he held you so softly and tenderly had almost cemented it for you. And now he was saying it wasn't real.

"Don't say that." You clenched your jaw, biting back your emotions. "That night meant something to me, even if you told me to leave prematurely."

"That's a pity, then, Y/N, because it did not mean anything to me." Snape hissed at you. He was mocking you and his voice grew colder and more ruthless by the second. Something changed within him, and it was breaking your heart. The two of you had been fine before that night- fuck, was this your fault? Your chest tightened at his knife-like words and you felt like crying again.

"That's not true." You said softly, grasping at straws to keep your emotions in check.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Severus seethed. He looked furious now. His eyes were merciless, and the dent between his brows had deepened tremendously as he frowned at you. As you stared at him, you saw no flicker of a feeling nor emotion on his face. He was cold. Unmoving. Maybe he had just accepted your hand that night to appease you. Merlin, did he do that out of pity? Another wave of anger and embarrassment seeped into your balled fists.

You didn't reply, you didn't even want to give him the time of day after that conversation. That seemed to have settled it for you. Snape did not feel the same way as you did for him, and you needed to move on. You were only going to cause yourself more hurt if you didn't.

The first day of Spring at Hogwarts had finally sprung, and the grass had shifted from a dull green to a rather vibrant green. Beautiful shoots of pastel-coloured flowers began to appear along the pathways to and from the castle, painting the once dreary-looking area bright. As much as you thought the season of Winter could be beautiful at times, nothing compared to Spring. You adored the flowers that bloomed, and the influx of little insects and creatures that began to buzz busily around the fauna. On the way back to your classes, you'd found yourself bending down to sniff the greenery; a pleasant, soft floral fragrance filling your nose and heart with joy. If you hadn't been able to become a Herbologist, a Florist would have been your second choice for sure. Plants, flowers and anything herby made you happy.

Currently, you were hurrying yourself back to the greenhouse, and you were running a little late after having a pleasant conversation with Minerva in the hallway. You reached the greenhouse just in time, albeit a little out of breath after running to make up the time lost.

"Sorry I'm a little late," You announced to the class, panting and smiling a little apologetically. "How is everyone today?" You asked, standing in front of the table that you had fallen asleep on all those months ago whilst tending to the Mandrakes. Your stomach tied itself into an anxious knot as memories of you and Snape in his classroom brewing the Mandrake Restorative Draught began to replay like a broken record within your mind. It was a bittersweet feeling, and you were rather unhappy at the reaction your body was having to the thought of him.

A chorus of 'good' and 'okay' broke through the silence, and you nodded softly, your smile widening as you glanced at the students. "Lovely," you said, sighing, "So-"

"Professor, why is there a note from Professor Snape here?" Draco Malfoy voiced inquisitively, holding up a piece of parchment. As Draco spoke his name, your stomach dropped. The sunlight shone through it, revealing Severus's ridiculously neat handwriting, sending a knife through your heart. You clenched your jaw and paused for a moment. Why did he have to be everywhere you looked? Everything was tainted with him, and you hated it.

"Erm," You stumbled. Blinking rapidly, you walked over to where Draco was and took it from his pinched fingers, your eyes scanning over the piece of paper repeatedly.

'Y/N,

Keeping to my promise, I've left this note to let you know that I have kindly borrowed an ounce of aconite.

Severus.'

Your breathing hitched at the sight, and it suddenly felt like you could either faint, or scream; you could not tell. You didn't believe he would truly remember your request all that time ago, yet here you were, reading that exact thing. The two of you hadn't spoken much - barely, if anything - and you thought you'd healed from this fucking mess. Clearly, from your body's reaction, that was a delusional lie that you had wholeheartedly believed. Your fingers and toes were tingling with pins and needles and it was sending you into a frenzy.

"Professor?" Draco's curious, yet worried voice pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced up at the boy, a blank expression on your face.

"Yes?"

"What's Professor Snape doing leaving you little love notes?" He quipped teasingly, an amused glint twinkling in his blue eyes.

"Excuse me?" You said quietly, in complete disbelief that he had just uttered those words.

"Well, it seems a little perso-" You cut him off before he could finish.

"Detention, Malfoy," You interrupted him, physically unable to hear more about it. The whole class was now staring at you, and you could feel your heart start to beat faster once more; a sign of anxiety. This was very out of character for you, and they all knew it. Something wasn't right. "This evening."

Almost immediately, Draco scoffed at your announcement, clearly stating his disagreement with it. "What, why?!"

"Do not push me today, Mr Malfoy." You said sternly and Malfoy silenced himself, a little shocked at your unusual authoritative tone. You looked back down at the note in your hand, your eyes tracing over every letter that Snape had elegantly scribed. Some of the students had silently deduced that your change in persona was perhaps to do with Snape.

Gods, you could not believe this. Who does he think he is to suddenly start leaving notes? Why is he doing this now? You didn't need this, you didn't want this anymore, and yet he had dug up your feelings once more like a dead body at the graveyard. All those weeks thinking you were done feeling something for him was a lie.

You angrily shoved the note in a drawer to your left and sighed heavily, walking back to the head of the table. A look of shock had found itself on the faces of your class, and you instantly felt guilty. The thought of paying the Bat a visit slipped into your head, and it twisted your guts. You'd only tell him it wasn't necessary anymore to leave notes, but you were so persistent before about it, you'd only make yourself look like a weak fool, and that was one thing you were not going to do in front of Snape.

"I apologise, I'm just having a bad day." You mumbled, closing your eyes for a moment to recoup your brain. "If we could all just... behave well today, I'd really appreciate it. I'll even take back your detention, Mr Malfoy." You added, glancing at the platinum-haired boy. His eyes lit up at the sound of losing his detention you'd angrily assigned him.

"Alright, let's begin, shall we? You'll be learning about Fluxweed and it's properties and uses."

As time went on, more and more notes began to appear in your greenhouse. You and Snape hadn't spoken since that late Winter evening in the Great Hall when you were late to dinner. He'd clearly shown what he thought of you, so, you were completely confused as to why he was putting in the effort to leave all of these notes. If he hated you so much, wouldn't he just not tell you he'd taken things to further piss you off? You felt like he was doing it on purpose to torment you.

You'd let his notes pile up and gather dust in your drawer, some of them crumpled up when you'd lost your temper and broken down in tears in your greenhouse, upset and heartbroken by the tainted relationship you had with Snape. You wished things were not as they were. Gods, the pain that seared through you each time you locked eyes with the man was unbearable. Be it in the hallways, the corridors, or the Great Hall across the dining table, he'd truly broken you, whether it was intentional or unintentional. You were ruined.

Were you really that fucked up in the head that a man like him was the only man you desired so badly? Why couldn't you just move on from him? You'd begged and prayed to the gods above, day and night, to free you from his chains, but they didn't listen. Each long and tearful night, you wondered what you did to deserve this suffering. There was nothing quite fucking worse than unrequited love.

The thought of going to tell Snape to stop sending the notes and just to take what he wanted without telling you circled around in your mind almost twenty-four-seven hours a day. Each time you were about to do it, you'd back out. You couldn't backtrack like that, you dreaded the thought of him thinking you weak; that was one thing you would not do.

All verbal communication that was considered chit chat or small talk between you and Snape had ceased to exist by the time Summer rolled around. You had to distance yourself from him if you wanted to move on. You were hurting. Terribly. All you wanted to do was talk to him, or even just be around him, but it wasn't fair on you, let alone the fact that he probably didn't even want to talk to you anyway - the last words he spoke to you said it all. The only thing left that could be considered 'communication' between you two was the notes he'd scribble down each time he visited your greenhouse, and each time you found them, you found yourself numb to the pain that pricked at your skin each time your eyes skimmed over his stupidly perfect handwriting.

Not completely numb, but numb enough.

Tonight was the last night at Hogwarts until September. On one hand, you couldn't wait to leave and be free of your grief for a month and a half, and on the other hand, you were dreading it. Part of you was screaming at you to stay and fix things with Snape, and the other part was crying to you, telling you that you had to leave, and that it was true he felt nothing for you. You thought back to the beginning of the year when things weren't tainted and completely fucked. It was heart-wrenching to reminisce on those days. It almost brought you to tears thinking about the time you and Snape had got along during the Duelling Club, when he was almost beaming with pride after watching you dominate Lockhart. From then on, he was hooked with you, but you'd never know that.

For Snape, he was dreading the Summer without seeing you. He'd absolutely fucking hated the past few months. The only thing that kept him going through until the end of the year was seeing glimpses of you around the castle. If he was honest with himself, he deeply regretted kicking you out of his office that night. That was when it all went to shit. He'd fallen victim to his fear again, choosing the selfish, easy way out. Perhaps he'd be happy with you right at this current moment if he just let you stay. Perhaps he'd be kissing you right now, holding you impossibly close to his body, embracing you and breathing in your addicting scent. Perhaps the two of you would even be spending the Summer break together.

Merlin, how did he fuck up this bad? It was too late to take anything back now, that's what he thought, at least. He'd deemed your relationship dead, unrevivable. He'd truly messed up.

"At last, the school year has come to an end," Dumbledore's old, wise voice boomed through the Great Hall as he stood at his golden Owl Lecturn. All of the students and staff were listening intently. However, you found yourself looking at someone entirely different. "This year has been challenging for all, and I hope we can all take some well-learned lessons home with us for the Summer, to come back refreshed and ready for the next year here at Hogwarts." Was the last thing Dumbledore said before you zoned out into a daydream.

Your eyes were glued to Severus, lingering on his features that you'd grown to adore and loathe. You hated him at this current moment, but Merlin, you couldn't deny how handsome he was. The way his dark, black shoulder-length hair framed his long and pale face was like an art piece. You let your eyes travel down to his shoulders, your mind growing hazy and distracted as you began to think how it'd feel to touch him again, your fingers running through his hair as he pressed his lips against your neck, his hot breath tickling your sensitive and bare skin. You'd have your chest pressed flush against his as he worshipped your body with precise skill, working it like he'd known it for a thousand years.

On the other hand, you wanted to scream at him, curse him for the rest of his life, just for the cruel way he'd treated you during this year at Hogwarts.

Your provocative fantasy came to a crashing halt when Hagrid leant down to whisper in your ear.

"Yer starin', Y/N." He mumbled awkwardly, eyes still attached to Dumbledore. You blushed furiously, slightly embarrassed that Hagrid, of all people, had caught you mentally undressing and eye-fucking Snape. He was the one you had confided in the past months, so he knew how you felt about Severus - every single emotion.

Apart from one.

"Oh," You cleared your throat, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the Potions Master. Deep down, you were unsure you'd ever fully move on from Severus, it just didn't feel... right.

"Thought ya hated 'im." Hagrid mumbled again, a hint of teasing in his tone, but he kept his voice low as Dumbledore spoke.

"I... it's complicated." You sighed quietly, taking a risk and glancing at Severus again. Your heart dropped slightly when he wasn't looking back at you. You shouldn't be surprised, nor disappointed. "I just can't wait to get out of here for the Summer."

And just like that, Dumbledore announced the end of the year. You couldn't help but smile the moment the Victorian house came into view as you Apparated from Hogsmeade to Windsor. Being back home at your humble abode in Berkshire sent a feeling of relief and peace through you. It almost felt like the past year's travesties hadn't even happened. When not teaching, you lived in a quaint cottage in the Windsor countryside. It was set down a quiet lane, overlooking the historic and iconic Windsor castle in the distance; a field of horses and summer flowers sat opposite it. It was rather dreamy, and you were incredibly thankful to your late grandmother for leaving it to you in her will. The house was built with red bricks, adorned with a pretty, white trim set around the triangular rooves. Vibrant green fauna decorated the edges of the large windows, almost framing it like a photograph.

Your favourite part of the house was the garden. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't small and it was perfect for just you. Bushes upon bushes of roses and lilies lined the edges, and your heart warmed at the sight of the bees buzzing around them all. With a strained sigh, you walked into the cottage, the familiar smell of candles and fresh lilies hitting your nose. It was a refreshing change from the usual dusty and musky smell of Hogwarts.

As you walked into your living room and dining room, you couldn't help but feel a little pang of sadness shoot through your chest. You'd imagined yourself here with Severus a couple of times, eating breakfast early in the morning, watching the sunrise as it gently woke the world up with it's warm, amber rays. And suddenly, all over again, you were a mess. You let yourself cry. You didn't hold them back, nor bottle them up. The fear of being caught had disappeared. You were alone.

As the tears rolled down your cheeks, your body began to feel hot; anger and frustration bubbling within your chest. Everything that you'd held to yourself at work was starting to crumble and fall, collapsing all around you like ash. Your eyes burned like a fire in a furnace as you squeezed them so tightly shut, silently begging for this pain to be over. You balled your fists, your nails leaving a painful imprint on your palms as you released them with a strangled gasp, your sobs becoming uncontrollable as your mind began to torture you with the memories of the past year.

'Have you no brain?' Taunted Snape, his lips curling into a disapproving sneer. You remember the way your heart beat pounded relentlessly as he leaned in towards you, his squinting eyes piercing you like a needle into a balloon.

'You are still that silly girl who did not think before she spoke.' He'd chastised, sending you into a small fit of rage.

'Lockhart came to me,' You'd said after he accused you of being nosy in other people's problems. 'Poor choice, clearly.' He'd replied bitterly, glaring down at you.

'Severus, you may call me Severus.' He said calmly, earning a surprised frown from you. The moment you broke through to him, and he'd finally accepted you as a colleague - nothing more, nothing less.

'Nicely done.' He'd muttered to you, his face proud but muted, as you'd defeated Lockhart in a duel. You were sure there was something else lingering in those eyes that day, but you could never put your finger on it.

'I wasn't the best student for you,' you'd laughed softly in his classroom, stirring the Mandrake Draught. 'No, but you weren't the worst.' Snape had replied with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

'Don't believe anything that gloomy bat says,' Madam Pomfrey's stern voice suddenly echoed in your mind.

You were thinking back to the moment you had caught Severus's eyes in the Great Hall when Dumbledore was acknowledging your tremendous help with the Mandrake Restorative Draught. He was gazing at you proudly, a small yet hesitant smile upon his lips.

Then, your most cherished memory with Snape flooded your mind. You felt more tears begin to pour from your puffy, reddened eyes as you reminisced in your living room.

'Dance with me?' You'd asked quietly amongst the hammering of your nervous heart, as the slow and melancholic rock song played softly in the background, holding out your hand for Snape to take a hold of. He'd taken your soft hand in his cold, calloused one, and you pulled him slowly to the middle of the room. You remembered how nervous yet happy you were, the way your eyes sparkled with silent joy as you stared up at Severus, his other hand settling safely on your waist. The two of you relished in each other's company, swaying slowly, side to side, gradually breaking down the highly impenetrable guard that he'd had up.

It broke your heart all over again, as his harsh, sudden words pierced your ears.

'Get out.' Snape had ordered, taking you by surprise.

You had been so close. So close to finally breaking into his walls, and at the last moment, he'd built them all up again, double the defences.

Tomorrow was a new day, and you'd deemed it a good time to take your mind off of everything. You needed to get out of your house. It was sending you into a fucking frenzy. So, you chose to Apparate to London - more specifically The Leaky Cauldron. Okay, it was a terrible idea, but you just needed to see other people - people you didn't know, and people that... Severus didn't know.

So here you were, standing outside of the pub, hesitant on entering. You were getting cold feet. Maybe you should just go to Diagon Alley instead, and browse the pretty shops filled with artifacts, wands, fresh smelling books and magical sweets. In all honesty, that sounded more enthralling than sitting in a dim pub, nursing a mug of whiskey.

As you were about to turn on your heel and head to Diagon Alley, a weirdly familiar voice called your name.

"Y/N?" You frowned, your head turning slightly to find the source. It was a man for sure, and it was ridiculously familiar. Shit, where have you heard that voice before? "Y/N L/N?"

You spun on your heels, your eyes almost popping out of your head as no one other than Benjamin fucking Bluewater stood in front of you. He wasn't that weaselly, little nuisance anymore. No, no, he'd grown. And grown like hell he had. He stood at least six feet tall, a five o'clock shadow peppering his rather well-defined jawline and mouth. His dark hair was no longer styled in an embarrassing bowl-cut, it was thick and pushed back, accentuating his strong forehead, and prominent cheekbones. You found yourself blushing whilst looking at him.

"Holy shit, Benjamin Bluewater?" You gasped, shaking your head lightly at him in disbelief. A million-dollar grin broke out on his face. Good lord, you thought, he'd really changed...

"The one and only." Bluewater chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets bashfully.

"You look... great." You were speechless. This could not be happening. Your heart was pounding so fast that you genuinely could not comprehend anything. Merlin, were you dreaming?

"As do you, Y/N." He grinned at you again, sending goosebumps up your arms. His eyes flicked from yours to the Leaky Cauldron behind you, and he gestured towards the pub with a nod. "It's been a long time, would you like to, err, grab a drink or something? It'd be nice to catch up." Benjamin smiled politely at you. Shit, what the hell, why the hell not? Fuck it.

"I'd love to." You returned his smile, shrugging your shoulders gently. Benjamin's smile grew into a grin as he placed a gentlemanly hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the pub.

"So, what's new with you, then?" Benjamin asked, his eyes flicking over your reddening face. You swallowed nervously, laughing.

"Erm, well, I'm working at Hogwarts as a professor." You replied nonchalantly as the two of you strolled to the bar area.

"Are the professors that taught us still there?" He asked curiously, showing genuine interest in what you were saying. It was nice for once. Severus was so scarce with that.

"Yes," You laughed lightly, though you winced slightly at Snape passed through your mind. "McGonagall, Flitwick, Dumbledore, Hagrid... all of them are still there." You avoided his name.

"Is that grumpy git Snape still there?" Bluewater questioned, his face twisting into a expression of distaste as he glanced at the barkeep. A small ripple of sadness washed over you, you knew Snape wasn't a favourite with the students, but he wasn't exactly a bad... no, no, he was a terrible person, you corrected yourself. We are no doing that right now.

"Yeah." You nodded, pursing your lips.

"He was a bastard, always had it out for me." Benjamin tutted. You winced a little at his words. You might have a tainted relationship with Snape, but you still cared deeply for him, and it hurt you when people spoke badly about him, no matter what he did.

"Well, I doubt your pranks did you any good." You quipped playfully, trying to lighten the mood. A mischievous grin spread across Benjamin's sculpted face. You felt your knees tingle.

"I was an arsehole in school, I'll admit that. I don't know how I survived Hogwarts, honestly." A hearty laugh left Benjamin's lips. "I bet it's a pain working with that schmuck." He added bitterly, ordering two bottles of cider for the two of you.

"Yeah," You laughed awkwardly, glancing away for a moment, tears pricking your eyes a tad. You hated how your heart ached at the way Benjamin insulted Severus. "He's... well, he's Snape, you know what he's like." You finished quickly, desperate to change the subject. "What are you up to now? Something fancy surely?"

"I wouldn't say fancy, I just work at the Ministry." Bluewater shrugged nonchalantly, taking a swig of his cider as he handed you the other bottle. "I'm the Junior Undersecretary." He said, staring at you, almost like he was waiting for a reaction. Your eyebrows raised a little at how casually he admitted that.

"Oh, really? Wow, that's... wow, I really did not expect that." You said honestly, a little shocked at his confession.

"You didn't expect that?" He repeated, laughing, taking another swig.

"Well, no, not after how you were in school, Benjamin!" You scoffed, grinning.

"Ben," he corrected you, smiling, "Benjamin is too formal. Feels like I'm talking to my mother." Another laugh left your lips. Well, his charming and comedic personality certainly hadn't changed, that was for sure.

"Alright, Ben," You smiled coyly, eyeing the small peek of skin poking out from his unbuttoned shirt. You flicked your eyes back up to him, and he tilted his head at you. "Being the Junior Undersecretary, does that mean you've met the Minister for Magic?"

"Only a couple times."

"What's he like?" You asked, sipping on your cider, prompting Ben to lean in towards you. Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden close proximity.

"Between you and me, a bit of a delusional man." He whispered, his brown eyes gazing a little too deep into yours. For a split second, you were transported back to the times you and Severus were at each other's throats in the corridors of Hogwarts. You cheeks flushed at the thought, and you quickly pushed it to the side, your body stiffening.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, the man's bound to go insane any day now, really. Think the job's taking a toll on him." Ben said, his eyes glancing around the pub, observing the hustle and bustle.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised," You frowned. "That's a hell of a job."

"I'm sure it's nothing compared to being a professor at Hogwarts though?" Ben teased, making you roll your eyes.

"Very funny," You smiled, averting your eyes from him for a moment. "I mean, it's hard, but not impossibly hard. The grading takes a toll sometimes, but the rest of the time it's quite rewarding. Seeing your students learning from you, it feels like you've achieved something."

"Let me guess, Herbology?" He cocked a brow at you, another similar gesture that Severus did. Can he leave your mind for one day? Fuck.

"How did you guess?" You replied sarcastically, smiling.

"I don't know, but if my memory serves me well, you were rather gifted at the subject," Ben admitted, playing along with you. Your smile widened at his compliment. "And let's not forget that you were obsessed with all sorts of flowers, plants and herbs, carrying them with you everywhere you went!"

"Oh, gods, yeah..." Your cheeks reddened at the thought, slightly embarrassed at your younger antics. "At least I didn't go around planting stink bombs amongst other things in classrooms."

"At least I wasn't a Herbology nerd." Ben quipped playfully, inducing a gasp from you.

The two of you spoke for hours in the pub, until it reached around six in the evening. You'd totally lost track of time.

"It was lovely seeing you again, Ben." You smiled up at your old classmate, your eyes flicking between his blue ones. As much as he was attractive, you weren't sure there was a spark there, not like the one you'd felt with Severus.

"Likewise, Y/N," Ben replied, grinning handsomely at you. "Erm, do you think you'd like to see me again? Perhaps on... Friday? Seven o'clock?"

"Are you asking me out?" You chuckled incredulously, in slight disbelief. Ben's grin brightened as he stared down at you. Surely Benjamin 'the menace' Bluewater wasn't asking you out.

"Yeah, if that's okay. I'd always thought you were rather sweet." He said casually, making your cheeks burn. "I suppose it helps that you're absolutely stunning, too. Always a bonus."

"Aren't you a flirt?" You laughed lightly, considering his offer. You pondered for a moment. Maybe it'd be good to go on this date, maybe you'd see something in him. Maybe it would help with your whole... Snape situation. Maybe you'd actually heal. So you accepted it. "Sure, I'd like that. Send me an owl." You smiled softly up at him.

"Your address?"

"If it's meant to be, it'll find me." You grinned cheekily.

"Ahh, I see how it is!" Ben returned your grin, his cheeks a little merry and red from the alcohol the two of you'd consumed. You hummed flirtatiously in reply. "Well, it was a pleasure, Y/N. See you on Friday." He said, confidence clear in his tone. You cocked a challenging brow at him.

"Oh really?"

"Really." Ben nodded. He reached down and took your hand gently, pressing a soft kiss upon your knuckles to bid you goodnight; prompting your cheeks to pinken once more tonight. "Goodnight, Y/N." He let go of your hand, a soft laugh erupting from your lips.

"Goodnight, Ben." You smiled at him, watching him turn and walk away, disappearing into the night.

You weren't sure about this, but it felt good to have your mind on things - or someone other than Severus.

Part 8!

okkkk I hope you guys don’t kill me for the last part, ooooo. I thought it might be fun… ehehe

Thank you for reading, let me know what you think!! I can’t wait to start the next part, I’m so excited!! My brain is buzzing with ideas for Prisoner of Azkaban 😎 love you guys. don’t forget to sleep and eat 🖤

Taglist: (I hope I haven’t missed anyone)

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3Iv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

@m0rtifiedg0th

@spookymicrowave

@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

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goldeaglefire1 · 11 months

Text

reading the new chainsaw man chapter and reaching that second to last page really just feels like someone throwing a flashbang directly at your skull

like how the fuck are you supposed to respond to that. how the fuck are you supposed to anticipate that. like yeah the context is "denji is being held captive by the shadiest motherfucker on earth and his loved ones are in danger" and once you get past the shock this is a very concerning situation but the fact is he still fucking said that completely unprompted

#shitpost i guess #chainsaw man #csm spoilers

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itznarcotic · 10 months

Text

i throw a flashbang at you while you're moving a 22 kg sack of rice from your car in the parking lot and when you open your eyes you notice that the rice is now perfectly cooked and preserved to your own personal liking

#bad posting

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munsster · 2 years

Note

i’m so glad u want to start writing for keys i feel like he’s pretty underrated on here </3 maybe something where him and reader have interacted a lot in the game and one recognizes the other’s voice in real life in public? idk i think that would be really cute! x

free life on earth

A/N: listennnn i consumed every tumblr fic i could find of him in one night and decided there was not enough nor will there ever be.

Pairing: Walter “Keys” McKey x GN!Reader

Summary: He thought he was just out getting coffee. But then he bumped into his cyber crush. 2.1k words.

Warnings: fluff, meet (?) cute, you know i had to put this in a coffeeshop, shamelessly awkward flirting, mutual pining, a teensy little accident kiss (unless…), cursing

He was fascinated. From the very beginning, despite how cliché and theatrical it sounds; he swore up and down he'd never go all puppy-dog-eyed again. And then you let out a whip of deafening expletives, and he swan dove right into a new obsession.

But saying obsession seemed too intense and creepy, so he's been calling it his online thing like it's a business meeting. Like he's not lovesick and doting and you have no idea he's worming himself around your little finger.

"You've gotta be—Keys! Don't fucking throw that while I'm standing right here."

The laugh rips out of him and jolts him back in his chair. To think that the limited amount of time he spends not working on this godforsaken game he happens to spend playing the game. He must have something wrong with him. He drops the flashbang back into his inventory and scuttles over to your crouched avatar.

"Sometimes I wonder why they let you graduate," you poke, swiveling in circles in the wavering shade of a big tree, blank eyes staring up at the sky.

"Hey, if I didn't graduate, we never would've met."

You chuckle. "Oh, Keys, life would be so horrible without you"—you click your tongue and your avatar's knees straighten, and his heart shouldn't skip a beat the way it does with your digital face this close to his—"because I have nothing better to do than sit at my desk all day and talk to a stranger on the internet."

"A handsome stranger," he teases.

"I'm logging off."

"Wait—"

"Nope!"

"Come on," he whines, "you know you love me."

Curse him with that sometimes confidence and all-the-time charm. And maybe that's the one thing you don't know. He smoked you out just to get at you while unassuming and lovely. You blink hard just to realize you've gone a little blurry, and the sun slices through your blinds and glares against your monitor.

"Is it light where you are?" you mumble, a songbird cooing and flapping away outside your window. His character goes still, no longer shuffling across the grass, just still. Strands of his hair animated to flow. It makes you smirk every time you think of it.

"Yeah, think so. Geez—"

"What if I was a stalker? Now I know the sun is up for you. That eliminates like... a lot of places," you say, very proudly and kind of worried. You don't rest well as it is, and now this boy might be giving out his address to random users.

"Okay, but is the sun rising or setting?"

"...Maybe it's neither," you hum.

"Maybe it's both."

It takes a second for him to laugh, and he's crazy but it's contagious. You shake your head and press your face into your palms to muffle a soft laugh. Hoping he doesn't hear you humor him. But you do, and he does.

"You're delirious, go have caffeine," you huff, definitely smiling, even with your jaw aching from wearing a headset for much too long. But you're sure the tightness in your neck is worth it when he hums softly and rustles with something on his desk.

"No," he whines, spamming the space bar, sending his character hopping down the grassy slope of the park's small hill. He sighs. "Alright, fine. Didn't feel like staying online anyway."

"Oh, hush, it'll be good for you. Plus, I gotta head out, and I don't want you missing me too much."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, "but you better be on tonight."

"C'mon, baby, you know me," you say, head lulling to the side as he sprints back up the hill just to slip down once he's halfway there. He must be too tired to think about it. Because you've called him that once before, and it sent him reeling. He's glad the game wasn't designed for webcam gameplay. Not only would that be nightmarish, but you would immediately catch him beet red and fidgety.

He yawns.

"Alright, see ya."

You chirp something nice into his ear. Like a goodbye, but you'd never say it. He powers his desktop down and throws on a crewneck before heading a couple blocks north, hands shoved in his pockets the whole way. Head incessant with the thought of you. Even if he could stop it, he wouldn't. If you'd stay holed up in his noggin until the next supernova, he'd be satisfied. And the coffee shop is sticky and warm when he steps in from the chill.

But something makes him smile. Only a few tables have anybody seated there: mostly couples. Except, there's one person sitting alone. Occupying the table closest to the register, scarf draped over the back of the oaky chair, fingertips patting along a dim phone screen.

"Morning, two sugars," the barista chirps, "the usual?"

Keys hisses in a deep breath, eyes flicking over the extensive, swirly-lettered menu.

"You know what—?"

"Aw, break my heart, man—don't tell me you're switching it up on me now."

Keys chuckles with a shrug, "what can I say? I'm a sucker for a limited time offer. Gimme one of those seasonal drinks.”

"That's it, no more discounts for you," he huffs, already scribbling 'Keys' and a pouty face across the side of a bright orange cup.

"You were giving me a discount?"

"Keys," a soft voice chirps. And it's not something he could've imagined if he tried, because it sounds like you, and maybe this is some wishful thinking hat trick, but he turns to the side. And there you are. Arm perched on the back of the chair, torso twisted around to peer up at him. And he peers back. It's you. Wide-eyed and grinning.

"Hi," he pants, "it's you."

Your chair scrapes across the wood flooring, and you get real close to him like you're still not sure this is real life and not a simulator. Or you accidentally signed up for a drug-induced sleep study, and this is the desired, coma-adjacent lucid dream.

"In the flesh." You scoff, hands on your hips. He wonders if you're letting him look at you. It's a little perverted, but he's in denial, watching your mouth and the way it's so different from your in-game avatar. "I was hoping... I mean, I wanted it to be you. You sound like you."

He nods. And his hair flops into his face. Hides his soft pink forehead and the line between his furrowed brows.

"You're... taller than I thought you'd be. And you wear glasses," you say, lifting your hand like you're about to touch him. It makes him happy. He knows you—he's known you exclusively by your code and the sound of your voice, and yet your first instinct was to reach for him. And even though you drop your hand and glance away, he smiles.

"Disappointed?" he teases like he's expecting the rejection. Like you'll laugh and tell him to scram because yes, he's not what you had imagined. Maybe you had imagined him to perfection and doomed him in the process.

But you shake your head.

Decisively, a serious conclusion, borderline frowning at the sentiment. How could you be disappointed after spending days upon days doing absolutely nothing and everything with him. Just him.

You sigh, "You techies are always a wild card. To be honest, I'm just glad you're not a serial killer."

He chuckles and takes a deep breath. Letting it buzz through him because by some miracle, you're glad.

"I take it my dashing looks are just an added bonus," he huffs, raising his brows, but out of the corner of his eye, you smile. You don't laugh, but you smile. Brightly, too, sincere in the creases by your tired eyes.

"Toffee latte for... Keys?"

He scratches the back of his neck when you look away, feeling like he's sweating buckets all over the polished floor. Then you look back at him, lips only parted for a breath, mouth quirked. You look cute. Like he couldn't have imagined you sweeter. He just knows you're gonna leave him all syrupy and stuck on you after this.

"So... d'you—"

"Keys! Latte for Keys?"

"I think that might be you," you tease, nodding over to the pick up window with a grin.

"Oh. Oh, right!"

He hurries over to the disgruntled employee, grabbing his coffee and a couple of napkins and a stopper between his teeth before popping it into the lid. When he turns back around, you're not there. And his heart sinks. Frantic, he cranes his neck, spinning dizzily before catching your wave and the bell above the door. And you duck outside.

The cold smacks him into reality. It’s terrifying the way you look back at him with a smile because he’s been thinking about it since the day he first heard your voice. And now you’re letting him catch up to you, walking backwards with your arms crossed over your chest.

"Sorry for ditching. It was kinda stuffy in there—"

He chuckles, suddenly shy with the way you look right through him. And you’re right. Everything’s clearer. Crisp and frosty, but it’ll melt away with the sun.

"No, yeah, it's totally..." he huffs, "I know."

"Good, 'cause I was hoping you'd walk me home."

He shudders, not knowing whether it's the cold or the way you're so sure of him. Even with sweat rolling down his back. He doesn’t think he’ll make it as far as you plan on taking him. Not after you've flattered him enough to lay him bare on the sidewalk.

“You live around here?”

“‘Course I do. I’m not about to drive fifteen minutes for a cup of coffee,” you grumble, skipping over the cracked pavement where weeds sprout up into teensy yellow flowers. Then the toe of your show catches a jilted and offset curb, sending you teetering forward.

“Woah”—Keys catches you by the hand, too focused on the way your fingertips find their way to his, slotting down hard and curling. “I gotcha.”

“Pssh,” you scoff, tugging him close as an excuse to catch you breath. Only, you’re in the middle of the sidewalk and a biker wheels by with a groan. “White knight.”

“I prefer the term gentleman, but whatever floats your boat.”

You stick your tongue out at him when he takes a swig of his coffee and flinches away from it, fingers clenching around your knuckles.

“Hot?”

“Burning.”

“Thanks,” you say with a wink. And his tongue isn’t the only thing burning when it settles into his ears and nose.

“So, are you nearby, or…?”

“Oh! Yeah, this is my building.” You thrust a thumb over your shoulder and yeah, he’s hooked. So hooked he doesn’t realize you’re less than a block up the road from his building. He doesn’t realize he could have been yours. He could be yours, but he’s too hooked.

“Shit. Then I guess this is goodbye.” He leers up at the art deco apartment complex with a squint. Kind of disappointed before he realizes his palm is damp pressed to yours. Suffocating into the space you give him when he scuffs against the rough concrete.

“Guess so.” The sunlight beams from between the strands of his mussed hair, catching the rim of his lenses, and rendering you in awe. “At least we have the game.”

He scoffs. “We’ll always have the game.”

You shrug and tap the bottom edge of his cup. “And you’ll always have this.” Your finger traces the digits and dashes along until they’re dotted off with a heart. “Definitely didn’t slip him ten bucks for that.”

“You’re pretty desperate, huh?”

You smile. “Yup.” You squeeze his hand and tug him close to kiss the supple place his cheek dimples just slightly when he smiles. And he shifts a little. On accident. But suddenly, your mouth is pressed to the corner of his, and he’s short-circuiting when you pull away. “Sorry!”

“It’s… it’s okay, I’m not—I don’t mind,” he sputters and you laugh despite yourself, “Really, don’t worry about it, I mean, I’m not worried, it’s not a big deal, I just—”

You kiss him again. In front of the steps of your apartment building, holding his hand, and boiling him up inside. He can’t help but smile when you tongue at his bottom lip and drop his hand in favor of his waist. He thinks only you’d be so delicate with him. After all, it’s you. And when you pull away, his mouth is a little pink and a little slobbery, and you swipe your thumb across his chin.

“You better call that number,” you warn. He smirks.

“Beats talking to strangers on the internet.”

masterlist

#walter keys mckey fluff #walter keys mckey fic #walter keys mckey x gn!reader #keys x reader #walter keys mckey x reader #keys x gn!reader #x reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader #fluff #meet cute #free guy #keys free guy #joe keery x reader #joe keery #walter keys mckey #keys fluff #keys fic

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captainsophiestark · 7 months

Text

The Level-Headed One

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Star Wars

Day 8 Prompt: "Give that to me, before anything happens."

Summary: Obi-Wan and his partner (in life and on this mission) break into a smuggler's den in search of information the Republic needs, when things go a little sideways.

Word Count: 1,262

Category: Fluff

Requested by @ghostofskywalker! Hope you like it Tori!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Missions like these are my favorite," I muttered, smiling up at my best friend and partner, Obi-Wan, as we ducked down a darkened bar hallway, his arm wrapped tightly around me and my arms around his neck. Obi-Wan hummed, leaning down and towards me until we disappeared from the sight of the rest of the bar, when he pulled back.

"They are more fun than rushing into battle on a dusty planet."

I smiled, leaning up to give him a brief peck on the cheek before we both returned our focus to the task at hand. We'd come here looking for information about smuggling routes the Separatists had been using to run supplies past our blockades, but with a cover as two people on a date in a seedy bar. Away from the Jedi Council, on missions in dives like this, were some of the only times Obi and I got to spend as a couple.

Unfortunately, they also often included people trying to kill us at some point or another. We'd just have to keep surviving long enough to get to the other side of the war and retire happily.

"Do you want to take care of the door, or should I?" asked Obi-Wan, both of us scanning our surroundings as we reached the locked door of the club owner's office. If we were right, all the information we could hope for and more would be in there.

I shrugged. "I'm probably going to kick it down, so if you have another way..."

"Hold on."

He closed his eyes, raising his hand ever so slightly as he concentrated and worked through the force. I turned to watch our backs, until I heard the telltale 'click' of a lock unlocking itself.

"You did that by moving the lock from the inside with the force?" I asked, turning to my boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged.

"I've needed to develop that skill more than a few times in the course of the war."

"Still. Impressive."

With one last glance around the hallway, the two of us ducked quickly into the office, carefully shutting the door behind us. I relocked it before turning to take in the room with Obi.

We'd definitely found the right place. The office was a disaster zone, papers, boxes, and filing cabinets scattered everywhere. This was going to be a long, long night.

"I'll take the left half if you take the right half," Obi-Wan deadpanned. I sighed.

"We didn't do nearly enough dancing and drinking in the bar before hand to deal with all this."

Since neither of us knew when an enemy might next appear, we tried to work quickly while still doing a thorough job. I kept one eye on the time, all too aware that every minute that ticked by was another increasing the risk of our death.

I'd been getting jittery as we neared the half hour mark, but Obi-Wan and I had almost made it through the entire room. We'd started at the edges and gradually worked towards the middle and each other, and finally, we'd met at the desk.

I huffed a sigh and popped the top off yet another box and started digging through, until a large, familiar object made me pause.

"Oh boy," I muttered, reaching into the box and pulling out the flashbang grenade. I held it up to show Obi-Wan, turning it over in my hand. "Look at this. Who leaves something like this in a box on their desk?"

"Seedy smugglers who might need to throw one at someone coming in the door?" he suggested.

"Yeah, I guess so." I tossed the grenade lightly in my hand, testing its weight and getting a feel for it. "Interesting."

"Give me that, before anything happens," Obi-Wan said, holding out his hand with a sigh. I rolled my eyes, but dropped it in his hand anyway.

"I'm not going to blow us up, Obi-Wan. I might be best friends with Anakin, but I'm not completely stupid."

He snorted, which made a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. I nudged him with my shoulder as we both continued our search, the feeling of him in the force putting me at ease and bringing a smile to my face even in the middle of a mission like this. A few minutes later, I smiled for a different reason.

"I think I found what we're looking for."

Obi-Wan leaned over my shoulder as I fanned out a stack of documents, all detailing several shipping routes and smuggling runs designed to get around Republic blockades.

"Excellent work," he said, eyes still scanning the information. "Let's take that with us and get out of here, shall we?"

"Neither of you is going to be going anywhere, ever again."

Obi-Wan and I's heads snapped up to find the club owner standing in the doorway, flanked by two burly guards cracking their knuckles. I sighed.

"Two more minutes, and we would've been gone," I muttered.

"Nobody gets away with stealing from me, in my own club, with their lives."

Rather than returning fire with our new enemy, Obi-Wan leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"Can you gather those papers quickly if we were to run?" I nodded. "Good. Then close your eyes and cover your ears."

I turned to give him a questioning look, only to see him pick up the flashbang grenade I'd found and pull the pin, hurling it at the club owner without a second thought. I ducked and covered just in time as it went off before quickly springing into action, grabbing the papers off the desk and following Obi-Wan as we pushed past the stunned club owner and his guards.

We rushed back into the noise and confusion of the club, angry screams following from behind us. Obi-Wan reached back and took my hand as we wove through the crowd, finally making our way to an exit near the back and ducking out the door.

"You got all the papers?" he asked as we jumped into our speeder and he quickly guided it into the sky. I nodded.

"Yes, I did. And I'll absolutely never understand how you got your reputation as the level-headed one."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "It's easy. I got the reputation because I'm constantly surrounded by you and Anakin. And when he dives out a thousand-story window without a plan to catch himself and you run into an ambush with nothing but the force to get you out of it, a little flashbang grenade in a pinch becomes the most rational thing in the world."

I snorted, but he wasn't wrong. I caught him grinning out of the corner of my eye, so I turned to him more fully with a grin of my own.

"So... mission success, but I still think we got run out of that place a little early. Do you want to go somewhere for a little victory celebration before we go back to the Temple?"

"...What did you have in mind?"

"Padmé told me about a jazz club not too far from here."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "You certainly know me well." He glanced at the still-dark sky, then sighed. "I suppose we do have some time. Just tell me where to go."

We shared a smile, blending in amongst the lights of the city as two other people, no Jedi Order or war following us like it did everywhere else. And for tonight, we'd enjoy that escape for a little while, to help remind us exactly what we were out there fighting for.

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invested-in-your-future · 6 months

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With how bunch of freshmen like team RWBY have been cleaning up the house you'd think Remnant would be free of grimm by now.

Honestly?

I think that's one of the issues where the showrunners wrote themselves into the corner.

On one hand, Remnant is supposed to be this scary world with huntsmen barely holding back literal manifestations of evil. Villages disappear off the map, towns get overrun, the terrifying Goliaths roam the lands and a single mistake can mess up an entire Kingdom.

On the other hand, though, the "good guys" have to have progress and have cool fights (even if there's nobody to animate them anymore) where they win in cool effortless ways (effortless because they miss the point on why people praised stuff like Nevermore fight), get to one-shot the very same unbeatable Goliaths without really having improved in strength all while also cleaning up fodder everywhere.

Yet the viewers also would assume that teenagers who barely spent a year at Beacon would be nowhere near as powerful as actual full-fledged huntsmen, right? The show even tries to highlight that at first with the professors and the like having an absurd level of power.

At the same time, there's an absolute fear of doing anything in terms of human conflict. Can't showcase the more grim aspect of being a huntsman too much either because can't have the good guys' side look even remotely morally ambiguous either. So you just have four kingdoms sort of sitting there filled with overpowered people(and more and more get trained every day).

Just think back to all the good Grimm designs that were built up as ultra-powerful and get deleted in seconds by four kids who haven't even finished their training.

And at the same time the show shies away from any specifics about Grimm or how the threat even works (because, honestly, likely even the showrunners have no idea). They are this basic non-human redshirt enemy mook option that just shows up when the showrunners need to use Ruby as a flashbang.

No wonder half the audience doesn't get why something like Atlas wanting to take the Grimm threat seriously would be a "valid point". Despite what the show tries to tell the audience, super-sci-fi contemporary weaponry, and the like doesn't even seem to be needed. An average literal dog can likely clean out a few square kilometers of land a day.

Honestly, I think that's one of the reasons why they tried adding relics nonsense (beyond it giving them just a very simple plot structure without needing to think why people are where they are) - to invent another reason to make "The Bad Guys" scary. One that the good guys can't simply shoot their way out of. It's why they are attempting to give Salem an immediate goal that she'd be doing (despite her just sitting around for hundreds of years) that would lead to very bad things happening.

It is also why they make ridiculous attempts at over-playing the importance of Salem's immortality (when, if thinking logically, even the nature of the threat of the Grimm is already something that SHOULD be taken as something that can't be eradicated with how the civilization works in RWBY - another unkillable threat shouldn't matter in the face of endless waves of Grimm).

The showrunners, in the crudest way possible, are trying to point at Salem and go - "Look, guys, you should fear her and treat her as an actual real threat to characters you care about. She's not like all the Grimm that plot eyes one-shot after all the build-up. She's the real deal. Look - the threat of Biblical Apocalypse!"

But at the same time, she still...just sits off-screen making vague remarks and not really managing to do anything of note, while her lackeys end up jobbing to kids or, in case of Cinder, undergoing character regression as they throw around temper tantrums.

When all of those factors get put together it's easy to even forget that this setting is supposed to be about civilization barely hanging on against unending waves of eldritch monstrosities. Or that they just had a world war less than hundred years ago and the Kingdoms still don't really like each other that much ("Hey its all fine, guys, we just dropped the entirety of Atlas population into the middle of impoverished Kingdom they tried to literally eradicate eighty years ago, while also creating ultra-scarcity of the resource the entire world runs on - so everyone's friends now").

They could have deleted the Two Gods nonsense in the planning phases and instead used the team separation to expand upon the world and how the threats to it work but alas, Miles Luna wouldn't be able to incorporate a random dream he had into the story then.

#rwby #rwde

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wifflum · 4 days

Text

Video games that suck and why they suck

Dark Souls spawned a wonderful genre with an excellent, new (besides Demon's Souls), combat system that has been improved to have everything you could think of asking for, by games like Stellar Blade. Dark Souls, even though it was first, however, sucks. Here's why it sucks.

Dark Souls was made by a self-proclaimed masochist who said, about the game, "these are ways I would like to die," and then set the entire game design team to the objective of killing the player at every opportunity. It's like hostile architecture as a video game. The game is trying to kill you at almost every step, but it had this amazing new combat system, so that was tolerated. Now the blind sheep that are the masses worship it.

Elden Ring and Sekiro, on the other hand, did not have this incredibly sadistic touch to them, and are far more fun to actually play. And these trainwrecks who love Dark Souls would say it's a skill issue, to not enjoy crawling your way to the next death spot like it's progression in Final Fantasy XIV raids only through a fu**ing level, let alone the boss fights, and would blame the victim of literal and admitted game design sadism.

Red Dead Redemption, Spiderman, God of War, and also Grand Theft Auto (at least the campaign) and Uncharted-- all of these games also suck. This is because they are not made with gameplay in mind, because the target audience hardly gives a sh** about gameplay and just wants an interactive movie. They are, as a popular and often contrarian video game critic put it, "ghost train rides". They are theme park attractions that are purely there to entertain from a distance, and not really to be interacted with like you would expect from a video game. Gameplay is secondary, and it's often almost tertiary it's so far from being considered important. That is why these games suck.

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

Another somewhat extensive area for video games to suck in, is the Fallout and Elder Scrolls type of games. These games, instead of making story so fu**ing primary that gameplay, the whole point of video games existing at all, is ignored, do the exact same thing with their open-worlds and RPG mechanics. Just imagine a turn-based game like Final Fantasy 7, only the gameplay that can actually kind of stand on its own is actually gameplay that sucks co** and could never stand on its own.

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

I play video games for combat. To have fun and display skill. Everything else is set dressing for that one primary thing, and games that suck either intentionally obstruct fun combat, like Dark Souls does, or might as well not even include it it's so bad.

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

Some other games that suck are fighting games, because in order to get your ration of 3 seconds of neutral game per match, which might be pretty good but in my experience isn't anything to write to my girlfriend in jail about, you have to spend 8 million hours mastering filler moves that waste both players time and just drop the health bars to what they might as well be at the start, which is 3 hits until death.

Tactical RPGs are not that bad, I don't think, but dear God are they stressful sometimes. It's also slow and can get tiresome unless you personally are slow and tired and prefer that pace over action games.

First Person Shooters need defense options other than fu**ing sprint or better offense (throwing a flashbang is an offense action, as is laying a mine) for every situation, which Remnant: From the Ashes really put in sharp relief.

MOBAs, like League of Legends, need to be done differently rather than copying a game that had a barely passing grade on its combat system (DOTA 1 on Warcraft 3) because it took it from an strategy game where you're supposed to be spending 3/4 of your time managing your base and resources and only fighting a small portion of the time. Battleborn actually showed what MOBAs are capable of to some degree, although it didn't have dodges or anything, but got overshadowed by Overwatch which everyone either immediately regretted or regrets now since Overwatch is agony to play.

One game that largely sucked but did not entirely suck, contrary to what everyone and their goldfish will tell you, was Anthem. At one point it had a triple jump, triple dodge, comboing melee character that could frontflip into sniping something in the head or spraying it with submachine gun fire. Yes, that was motherfu**ing Anthem that had that, in the Interceptor Javelin, though the people in the other Javelins did not look to be having much fun.

The last games that suck, which I think everyone largely knows they suck, are Ubisoft games. Now Far Cry isn't that bad, because it still has a reasonable focus on gameplay, but Assassin's Creed games have combat that is almost as ass as Rockstar games' gameplay.

Just, all you have to do, lol, is take some reasonable approximation of soulslike combat, with an actual functional deflect if you include one, unlike Rise of the Ronin, and do whatever your little gimmick is on top of that. People will fall over themselves saying how amazing it is. Just make ACCEPTABLE gameplay with whatever your horsesh** is that your audience of nitwits loves, and it will be something as if from an advanced society in the future.

Although, I personally think the window for that is closing and it wouldn't be jaw-dropping anymore, with soulslikes branching out so much. All we really need now is a soulslike MMO and that'll be the kitchen sink, and I think it's rapidly approaching. All I would ask of someone doing that is that you model the PvP after Guild Wars 1 Random Arenas, and you'd have to study that pretty extensively because there's a lot of nuance that made it so good, but it was namely an extreme difficulty to combat, like you'd get from a PvE game set to Insanity difficulty, somehow enveloping the PvP experience.

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

Anyway, that's how video games of today almost all suck. And it's because they're not really video games; they're either like a simulation of something, traveling or getting stronger, or just straight-up a movie, with video gameyness slapped onto the side like a sticker, with about as much effort put into the application. The games that are good, as video games and not interactive media, which is what a lot of these things should be distinguished as, ask the user to display skill and they make that display enjoyable and varied. There's a million ways to screw up the execution of that design or to excel at it, but only a few games even set that objective of good combat as an actual goal.

But, if it makes makes money it's fine how it is, fu** foresight and artistic integrity, and we must all keep churning out pig slop to the pigs.

#dark souls #battleborn #overwatch 2 #red dead redemption #spiderman #call of duty #remnant from the ashes #league of legends #warcraft 3 #dota 2 #god of war #elden ring #sekiro #fromsoftware #game design #hidetaka miyazaki #anthem #video games

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shepherds-of-haven · 10 months

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Hi Lena! Could you please tell us, what’s an object(s) that the ROs (+ ya boy Halek) always have on them ?

Hi there, the true answer for this is typically their main weapon or a weapon of some kind, but since that's a bit boring, I'll endeavor to be more creative--just operate with the unspoken assumption that most are armed in some way from here on out! And obviously things like coinpurses don't count!

Blade: okay Blade is the exception because this is the only thing that's true for him, unless you strip him naked you should always assume he does have a weapon on his person somehow, I can't think of any particular object he'd reliably have over a weapon! He's not really one for sentiment or particular materialism so he can just like throw everything else away no problem if he has to lol. If we're counting field stuff he generally has a utility belt with like multi-tool type stuff, flint and steel, map, water flask, file and lockpick, little first aid things like bandages or sanitizer, but again, there's not a lot he can't do so long as he has a sharp blade, so these are more conveniences and can be dispensed with if he has to!

Trouble: his gloves, probably a charch case and matches, and he pretty reliably always has a timepiece on him!

Tallys: she always keeps a hidden utility belt with pouches of different types of herbs, powders, and tinctures for emergencies! Stuff that can be used medically or to numb pain, stuff to put enemies to sleep, etc.!

Shery: she always keeps a pen and typically a notepad or slip of paper with her! It would also be unusual for her not to have a handkerchief on her person as well!

Riel: he always has a clean handkerchief, a timepiece, and typically his walking stick on him! He usually carries a writing implement but not always because 1) he can just memorize everything if he has to 2) Aerin is usually on-hand to carry it for him and 3) he doesn't like risking ink stains so it's not always a 100% encounter rate for that one!

Chase: I would say it'd be extremely unusual for him not to have some form of jewelry/shiny accessory like rings, a necklace, or his earrings on him, but if that doesn't really count, he 100% always has some form of lockpick or skeleton key or pin on him for emergencies! Also, if we're not counting weapons but weapon-adjacent type stuff, he often but not always has some kind of flashbang or smoke bomb device rolling around in a pocket somewhere. He also typically carries a flask with strong liquor, though not for himself! It comes in handy more often than you'd think!

Red: he's typically always going to have a pen and a slip of paper somewhere on his person, and pretty reliably a compass because it can be crucial if he needs to translocate somewhere from an unfamiliar spot! I'd say there's like an 85% chance he has a book on him as well, and that tends to increase if he's out in the field and has a pack with him!

Ayla: she always has her windstaff, but if that doesn't count, she keeps a heavy jade stone in her pocket or tied around her braid: it's the only thing that her parents left her as a baby, so it goes everywhere with her! Also typically some form of emergency snack in her pocket as well as always has a water flask (when out in the field)!

Briony: Gonturan pretty much all of the time, but if that doesn't count, a pair of fingerless gloves to fight with and typically her red ribbon, though sometimes she leaves that at home by her bedside on long missions where she thinks she might lose it!

Lavinet: perfumed handkerchief, her fan if she's "out" as Lady Lockwood and not as Captain Naveen, typically a pair of gloves (either leather for riding or silk for social occasions), and she actually always wears a ring on her person that's engraved with the Lockwood crest: it's proof of her identity in case of an emergency and she doesn't go anywhere without it, though oftentimes it's hidden on a chain underneath her clothes! She hasn't needed to go on an undercover mission yet, but I imagine that the day she does is when she'll probably have to leave it somewhere safe!

Halek: typically I don't think he cares to have any one thing always on his person at all times (aside from the standards like a coinpurse or a weapon), but out in the field you can pretty reliably rummage in his pack for little stores of ingredients, either stuff he's foraging or buying along the way that seem interesting as he passes through (wild herbs, mushrooms, purchased spices from random towns) or little emergency supplies of salt, dried meat, cubes of fat or bouillon for soup, etc.!

#Shepherds of Haven #object #objects #all characters #i should do another one with what stuff people have in their packs when they're out on missions because I think that's probably more useful #rather than what's guaranteed to be on their persons/in their pockets at all times (which is how I read/answered this question)#...maybe someone should send it in as an ask so I don't forget LOL

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