#i cannot go trick or treating myself... unfortunately.

[professorsnape394]

DAY 15: Making Amends

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 🥵?

Prompt: Treat

Summary: Y/N makes it up to Snape for playing a careless prank.

A/N: Part 2 in the 'Trick' and 'Treat' prompts.

Warnings:  Mention of wet dreams. Seduction/teasing tactics.

Word Count: 1731

Credits to Gif Creator.

Severus pushed me up against the wall of his classroom, planted on hand just above my head and leaned down towards me.

I stood frozen, looking up at him hungrily, struggling to fully catch my breath.

His gaze dropped to my lips, as he licked his.

I watched on in anticipation. Slowly, then all at once, Severus captured my mouth with his, kissing me with a passion I had never before experienced.

His tongue pushed past my lips and I moaned instinctively. His hand dropped from my waist, fingertips brushing along the inside of my thigh until finally his hand slipped between my legs.

“Severus.” I panted, throwing my head back onto my pillow.

I moaned his name again, touching myself as I dreamed of his hand in place of mine.

This wasn’t the first time this week I had found myself getting off while dreaming of my colleague. In fact, there wasn’t much on my mind lately besides him.

After he was forced to confess his feelings for me the other day, I was overcome with guilt for how I reacted to our disagreement. So much so I couldn’t help but expose myself for my foolish decision. Unfortunately, his good-natured attitude was a side effect of the truth serum which instantly disappeared when I told him I was the one responsible.

“You did this to me?” His soft eyes had hardened once again into a stern glare.

“It was a mistake, I admit. And it didn’t exactly go how I had planned but I was mad at you and I didn’t know how else to make you see reason.” I rambled, realising I probably should have kept my mouth shut.

“So you thought a childish prank was the answer? You almost made me lose my job.”

“I know and I felt terrible about it. Which is exactly why I came to help you.” I pleaded.

“And here I thought you came to my aid because you cared.” He sneered.

“I do care, Severus. We’re colleagues, friends even, of course I care about you.” I could see from his reaction this was not the answer he wanted to hear.

“Get out.” He demanded.

“Please, Severus. I didn’t mean know how far it would go. Can we please put it behind us.”

“I don’t want to see you step foot in my office ever again, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Severus, please.”

“I said; GET OUT.”

~

Unable to get the thought of Severus out of my head, I blatantly ignored his warning and made my way down to the dungeons in the hopes of making it up to him.

For once Severus was not hiding behind his desk and instead stood watching an enchanted quill write instructions on his chalk board.

“I thought I told you to stay away, Professor Y/LN.” He said, not even turning to see that it was me.

At least he called me Professor, that’s a small improvement.

“I thought once I gave you a bit of time to cool down, we could talk about it.” I spoke softly.

“I have no desire to talk to you about anything.”

“Fine. We don’t need to talk.” I shrugged

“Glad we agree on something.”

“But let me make it up to you, I’ll take you out for dinner; my treat.”

“I don’t need your pity, Miss Y/L/N.” Severus finally turned to face me. “I do not need you to humour my affections by going to dinner with me.”

“It’s not pity, and I’m not humouring you. I want to go to dinner with you. Plus, It might be nice to spend some time with you when I’m not blinded by rage.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for myself.”

“Why don’t we see how you feel later tonight then, huh? I’ll swing back around at about 6 o’clock.”

“I will not be going to dinner with you Professor Y/L/N. I beg you do not show up here again.”

Yet another warning I chose to ignore and instead spent rest of the day getting ready for our dinner.

Not only was I hoping to earn Severus’ forgiveness but I was also hoping I would be discuss my own confusing feelings for him, provided the night went well.  

Having spent the evening getting ready with Severus’ reaction in mind, I was not disappointed by the look on his face when he opened the door to me.

Despite still holding a grudge for my misjudged prank, he could not hide the look of appreciation that flicked over my body at the sight of me. I wore a short red dress, that was just a few inches short of risky and came with a revealing neckline that bordered on inappropriate for a school professor to wear walking about the halls. I painted my lips to match the exact shade of red on my body. Severus’ eyes lingered on my chest for a second too long before dragging down my tanned legs to my crimson stiletto heels.

He swallowed and tried to regain his focus on my face, but even then, he failed to hide his erratic breathing.

“I told you; I don’t need your pity.” He snapped, fighting past his initial surprise.

“How many times do I have to say it, this isn’t pity, Severus. This is me wanting to spend my Saturday night having a nice meal with man I can’t stop thinking about.” I blurted.

“This won’t work on me.” He eyed me suspiciously.

“I have no idea what you mean.” I smiled cheekily.

Sighing, Severus gave in to the side of his brain that had a soft spot for me.

“One meal.” He agreed. “This does not mean I forgive you for what you have done.”

“Of course not.” I smiled. “Bring your coat, it’s cold out.”

Severus walked with me in silence all the way to Hogsmeade, trying his best to maintain his icy demeanour, but failed to disguise the longing glances he had when he thought I wasn’t looking.

~

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me.” I asked after we had finished dinner. While he had begrudgingly engaged in conversation with me, the stony look on his face had not budged. He leaned back in his chair; brows furrowed and folded his arms across his chest.

“You almost got me fired.” He stated, matter-of-factly.

“Fine, okay, I admit I had a small lapse in judgement, but I’m trying to apologise here.”

“Not hard enough.” He enunciated.

“Okay fine, dinner isn’t enough for you, I get it. But maybe there’s another way I can make it up to you.”

I mirrored his movements; leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. It was hard to miss the way Severus’ eyes flicked quickly down to my breasts, appreciatingly the way my arms pushed them slightly out of my dress. I bit my lip, locking eyes with the Professor. He eyed me suspiciously.

 Pointing my toe, I ran my heeled foot up the inner seem of his trouser leg, rubbing against the inside of his thigh seductively.

“What do you think you are doing.” His eyes widened at our contact.

“Don’t you like it?” I teased, conscious that my foot was nearing his crotch.

“People can see us.” He said through gritted teeth.

“That isn’t a no.” I smiled.

“It’s not funny, Y/N.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“I have never met a more infuriating woman in my life.”

“And yet you still came to dinner with me.”

Severus looked huffed, clenching his jaw harder.  

“It was hard to say no to you looking like that.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Glad to hear it.” I blushed.

The table fell into silence as the tension between us grew.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you, you know.” I finally admitted now I had his full attention.

“What?”

“Since you told me how you felt. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”

“Now you know how it feels to be me.” He said begrudgingly.

“I don’t know…” I trailed off. “Are you having wet dreams about me often?”

“What?” His pale skin turned scarlet.  

“Because that’s how much I can’t stop thinking about you, Severus. I’ve been touching myself every day thinking about what it would be like for you to do the same.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” I hummed, losing myself in his dark eyes.

“I think we have more than outstayed our welcome here, don’t you think? I suggest we go somewhere a little more… private.”

Now it was my turn to blush, a shy smile taking over the entire bottom half of my face.

Severus led me out of the restaurant, down the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade. Seeing me shiver, Severus draped his cloak over my shoulders, taking my hand in his to steady me on my feet as we rushed our way back to the castle.

Tired of waiting I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled his body into mine upon entering the warmth of the castle.

“Kiss me, Severus.” I demanded.

He hesitated.

“What if someone sees.”

“I don’t care.”

Before the words had even left my lips his mouth was on me. Kissing, licking and biting his way across my neck, chest and eventually my lips. He dominated my mouth possessively, staking claim over me as his and only his.

My hands clung to his shirt, frozen in the spot where I pulled him into me, never wanting to let go. Conversely, Severus’s hands roamed my body like he had been waiting his whole life just to see how what I felt like, and he wasn’t going to miss his opportunity to touch absolutely everywhere.

Like a dream come true Severus hands found there way to my inner thigh, only this time my whole body shivered with goosebumps, and they weren’t from the cold. I gasped when I felt his fingers run along the fabric of my soaked underwear.

“Maybe we should go somewhere more private.” I suggest, struggling to catch my breath.

Severus nodded, removing his hand from beneath my dress.  

As we made our way back to the dungeons, all I could think of was how I was going to make it up to Severus for what I had done to him. One thing was for sure though, it would be a treat he’d never forget.  

.

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Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil @entirelymesmerising @mikariell95 @snapefiction @a-queen-and-her-throne @amazingzou @peridot-pineapple @snapesno1thighrider @kittenlittle24 @forfaehou @caseydoodles98

[atrueneutral]

"Yes, Raphael had a very nice mouth.

Tav wondered what he thought of hers…"

Indeed. What did Raphael think of her's? 👀

[PART I] — “You seek the means to free Orpheus from his chains, do you not? There is no other way to achieve such a feat outside of what I own, and therefore the Orphic Hammer is your best option - I am your best option. Time is becoming scarce for you and your companions. The quaking of the earth is a tell-tale sign that the end draws near, and decisions must be made if you hope to claim victory over the tadpole burrowing in your brain. The illithid cannot be trusted - relying on such a self-serving and soulless abomination brings you closer to the edge of becoming a soulless abomination yourself! I would hate for that pretty face of yours to be hideously tentacled and saw toothed…”

There came a window of opportunity to openly appreciate said pretty face, and Raphael indulged in the moment. There was much to admire; his mouse made for a fine portrait, and he mentally lamented any unfortunate decisions that would lead to beauty’s erasure by way of a grotesque transformation.

He almost shivered in repulsion.

However, it was frustrating to note that, in the middle of what was becoming the most important pitch of his centuries-lived life, his little mouse did not look like she was paying attention. Her mind was elsewhere, and the forever-maddening glint in her eyes was partially dimmed as she took to watching the recitation that flowed from his mouth.

“Meanwhile, I am honest and can be trusted. I have proven myself to be a man, well, a devil of my word! There is truth to what I say, and though I have already made my intentions with the Crown clear, should it need repeating, I will not use the Crown to dominate a mortal. My conquest will remain in the Hells, and you and yours will have played your parts.”

He took a beat and pressed onwards. 

“And so, at the end, when you destroy the brain - and you will, because you must, the Crown will be yours for the taking. We will then meet, and you will give the Crown to me. In exchange, you shall have the key to your victory - the Orphic Hammer, which I will give to you the moment the contract is signed.”

At the end of his monologue, Raphael charmingly smiled at his mouse. Noticing she was slow on the draw, he raised a brow as irritation simmered; of the four in the audience, there was only one who mattered, and he was beginning to think he may as well have performed a soliloquy. 

Confusion flashed across her attractive, non-tentacled features, but her expression leveled out as the gleam returned to her eyes.

“How do I know I can really trust you?” asked his mouse.

“Oh, don’t get him going again! Let’s just get out of here, yeah? We’ll figure something else out - anything is better than this…” groaned a companion from behind their leader.

He ignored the lines of malcontent - his interest was piqued along with his ire; something was distracting his mouse at a time when there should be no distractions.

What was going on in that head of hers? He’d temporarily removed any possible interference from the illithid, and she did not enter his Den overtly bothered by anything…

He would call her out - warn her to be respectful of his time. This appointment was too important to be treated as less than! 

“Are you not paying attention, Little Mouse?”

“You claim to be trustworthy and yet you flipped the tables on Yurgir,” she easily replied. “You tricked him with your terms. How can I not expect the same?”

She was attempting to cover her tracks of inattentiveness, but she had been detected and caught!

“The wording of Yurgir’s contract was explicit and exact. The developments that occurred are an oversight of the orthon’s; he was shown the terms, he agreed to them and thusly signed. Is it trickery on my half or stupidity on his? But you are not so stupid, are you, my dear? At least, I don’t believe you to be stupid, even when weighed against the past folly of mortals–”

He continued with his diatribe on the intelligence of mortals, yet it alarmed him somewhat to see his mouse approaching him steadfastly with that blank and inattentive look on her face. He was unexpectedly made aware of his heart - of the beating that was quickening with each and every step of hers…

His mouse imparted herself into his personal space as she grabbed the collar of his doublet and–

HELLS, she was kissing him! His mouse’s warm, soft and supple lips - touching his! He could not say anything when seized by a kiss that was too gentle and too chaste for his liking, and, though he longed to react (claim her!), he could do nothing when both brain and body ceased in knowing how to function.

From beyond the roaring in his ears, her companions were expressing their displeasure. He would have joined them in chiding her for this impolite breach in manners and decorum - were he not reduced to being a damned silent statue!

She broke away whilst wearing a smugness that should have been his.

“I got the gist,” his mouse said. “I will need a day to think everything over but have duly taken your words into consideration. Thank you, Raphael.”

She turned and went for the door with her companions hurriedly chasing after.

When the door to the suite closed behind them, Raphael’s brow pinched as he ensnared his lower lip between his teeth and ran his tongue along its smooth surface. Her mouth had transferred a lingering sweetness to his lips - a fruit she must have eaten before their meeting…

Raphael growled to an empty room.

She’d provided him with the smallest taste, and his craving was not sated!

He needed more! He craved her lips, craved another kiss from her mouth that required teeth and tongue - he craved all of her!

She was becoming a source of weakness…

That she could stupify him with a kiss!

He needed to stop thinking about her! He wasted too much time thinking about her as it was… 

Yet she’d become an integral piece to his plans… and that mouth of hers…

[sonik-kun]

Reminder that WWX did use a homophobic slur (cutsleeve) before he found out he was, in fact, a "cutsleeve" himself.

I'd also argue that him taking advantage of MXY's body and the rumours associated with him by acting as a "stereotypical gay" to get out of situations was a form of homophobia in itself.

He assumed this was how crazy, gay people act - like sexual deviants. He used that stereotype on top of the rumours about MXY just to get out of sticky situations and avoid being captured.

Whilst this isn't aggressive homophobia, nor would I consider him a raging homophobe myself, he still took advantage of the world view he was raised in, which, in modern terms, was problematic in itself.

Think the harmful, stereotypical, predatory gay trope in anime that a lot of anime fans have taken issue with. That's the stereotype WWX was trying to perpetuate and brush off as a silly joke which is bordering that harmful stereotype territory mentioned above. And yet I don't see the moral "holier than thou" crowd talking about that in their analysis on "fictional characters in an ancient Chinese setting."

(Note before I get jumped on: I don't think WWX was being cruel or malicious when he did this. Nor do I think he purposely intended to sully poor MXY's image further. And I ofc don't think that WWX is a terrible person for doing so either. The guy was desperate and needed to pull tricks to avoid capture. But that still doesn't make things right by modern standards. Even if said stereotype was used to goad a load of "homophobes." Would also like to add that even after coming out, WWX didn't really challenge the societal standard or think ill of anyone who thought like that. It's not like he toured the CW with LWJ, promoting gay rights. He'd be very extraordinary for doing that and brave, too. But he didn't. Instead, he just got up to sexy times with his husband daily and lazed about living the good life. Which is valid of him, tbh, giving the shit he went through. But my point still stands. The social norm persists.)

Also, bare in mind, WWX was heavily in denial about his own sexuality at first and struggled to come to terms with it in the beginning due to the societal norms back then, anyway.

Homophobia was the norm. Stop denying that when you know most of the characters found it bizarre.

By their standards being gay was, unfortunate as it is, unusual and to them, perhaps even immoral in its own right.

By modern standards, we know now that it is wrong. And the moral consensus is that being gay is normal and should not be vilified (even then, not all cultures today have reached that consensus and LGBT rights still have a long way to go).

With this in mind and the notion of what morality meant to people back then, you mustn't hold the characters to modern standards because that was simply the world view. What was "right" back then.

You cannot say with certainty that you wouldn't be homophobic back then, in a world where people called it strange and immoral. As much as I'd like to believe that I would be one of the few who find it wrong to treat gay people poorly, most of us probably would find homosexuality strange because that was the moral consensus of that time. As such, it is unfair to hold characters like JC, JL, and JGY to modern standards for that reason. That's the point we've all been trying to make here.

(Even then, JC and JL both watched as WWX left with his hubby into the sunset and didn't speak illy of their relationship again, nor consider them social outcasts like the Jins and Mos treated MXY. It's almost as if people can change their world views entirely (or to some extent) after things become normalised. Hmm. 🧐

Furthermore, MXTX herself said that JC wasn't a bad person. She wouldn't say that if he's the "aggressive homophobe, incapable of change" like you all seem to imply he is.)

You all make this point about historical context when us JC fans criticise WWX for his clear breach of bodily autonomy with the core transfer and his own war crimes. You should apply that logic to the period typical homophobia too. Because as I have said before, you cannot say for certain that the characters would be homophobic had this taken place in a society where being gay was the norm whilst homophobia was frowned upon. Let's use some logic and context when talking about characters from an ancient time period, shall we?

[nyaagolor]

Umineko Chapter 2 Theory Posting

Well uh. To be honest with you I have very few ideas about this chapter, so actually laying out the "answers to the mystery" would be fruitless because I don't have any. Currently my only thought is that everything after the parlor scene is a hallucination or straight up didn't happen-- I think Rosa blew her nephew's brains out the second she thought him suspicious. Instead, I figured it'd be more fun to talk about the more macro stuff: to lay out what I think I know about the "rules" of the story so far. I'm not sure if these are right, but I imagine it'll at least help me start solving the mystery

The omniscient narrator is a lying little bastard. Every instance of raw "magic" and unexplainable things has occurred when we're in the omniscient narrator POV. While I do think there are more specific tells, for now I'm treating the omniscient narrator as a "what-if" rather than an unbiased reporter. To add onto this, I believe that each character's narration is giving us their version of the truth-- they're not lying, per say, as I think every character sincerely believes what they're saying is accurate, but I also don't think they're all correct. Thus, most of my theories are based on character POVs and not the limited narrator

We're outside the catbox, but the cat is still dead. Magic cannot and does not change the end result of something, only how it happened. We as the audience are exploring possibilities, but they're just that-- the only thing we know for sure is what happened when the box was opened. Thus, any event of magic can be explained retroactively by the end result, and anything that doesn't appear in the end result can be discarded. (For example, in the boiler room scene, we can ignore anything and everything that isn't "Kanon got stabbed" because that's the only thing that remains once the catbox is "opened")

Magic can only do what is accomplished by human hands. I'll admit that because I finished Chapter 2 earlier in my streaming session than I expected, my friend and I decided to go through to the first few scenes of chapter 3 and that's where I got this idea. We see here exactly how Beatrice "revives" the rose-- the explanation being that she just wrapped some gold lace around a different rose (since the one Maria was looking after was taken by Gohda to be their little dessert) and lied to Maria that it was her rose. This kind of smoke and mirrors is what I imagine magic is: it is impossible in a literal sense, but the outcome is only something that can be done by humans, and thus can actually be explained by human tricks

To sum it all up: I think that the entire story is in essence a catbox: We opened it up to find the cat dead inside, and Beatrice and Battler are basically just arguing about HOW the cat died, since everything happened before we opened the box. Since magic is just human tricks with a little more flourish, neither can be technically "wrong" at this point, but I can at least use these rules to make myself a framework for how to solve these mysteries

Unfortunately I'm even slower on the uptake than Battler so the likelihood I'll actually solve anything is. Questionable

PS: My answer to the ultimate mystery of "what the fuck is up with Beatrice" is that she's Kinzo's bastard child groomed to be like her mother for Kinzo's own fucked up romantic machinations, and the whole reason she's "like that" is because she's the child of divorce. Send tweet.

[quigzahhutt]

um hey hi hello how are you doing on this fine day my dude (struggling how to type normally bc i JUST woke up from a nap and i should really be restrained from my phone)

so um i wanted to ask for a trick or treat if you wouldn't mind!

BUT i did also want to give you a little treat myself if i may :)

so when you reblogged and put in the tags that your favourite fic is 'please turn those headlights around' but it's your least popular and obviously i had to RUN to read it and i unfortunately cannot say anything remotely intelligent in my 'still in bed' state of mind but im literally sobbing while typing this. i fear you have made a lump in my throat that will never go away and every time i try and swallow i'll feel it as a constant reminder of sorts of the devastating beauty that is your writing. like everything abt it. as of rn it feels like its been FOREVER since the logan news dropped (its been like 2 months) but reading this made me go right back to that very day purely bc of how well you captured the emotions. and the way logan was feeling SO MUCH and you still managed to fit it in all there like what can't you do bro???? like ur literally so cool omg. and. and. and the way logan's mind looked so empty but at the same time so much was going on and just yeah like i cant really describe it properly but YEAH. and also first time switching, that's so scary but you still managed to subtly weave it so beautifully in this narrative with the little awkwardness and apprehension with alex, they were so raw and vulnerable and honest with eo emotionally and physically in this SOB im gonna start crying again. AND the way the sex in the smut bit, it like basically represented, it wasnt just sex, it was also like a little symbol of like his ability???? and his own attitudes towards things in his life (his racing)???? like how when it said smth like 'gathering more data to improve his performance, ensuring a chance at a better finish.' or how he gets 'one track minded'. it's just. alot. yeah. ur like so super duper smart bro. yeah this piece of writing is like fucking poetry man i was literally reading a poem please hang it in the louvre and everything. never die pls and thanks. BYE sorry that was so long SOB

i hope you have a lovely day/night 💕

oh my word, FIRST OF ALL. THANK YOU? this inspired me to go reread it and it reminded me just how proud I am of that fic so THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the kind words on it. it's to this day one of my favorite pieces of work I've done ever and it has always bummed me out that it's my second least popular fic bcuz it's very dear to me, so hearing you say all this is just like. very very validating THANK YOU!!

because you have been so kind, you get an extra long and extra sweet treat from the 3rd part of Outgoing call! (which I will hopefully have finished . Soon) :)

Once he finally drags himself from bed and freshens up, Logan is already giving him an amused smile from the couch, the same one he would always give Alex when he was doing something unabashedly stupid, a slip of the fine-tuned and smug identity that Logan so carefully constructed. “What,” Alex deadpans, rounding the corner and trudging his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring at the flickering innards like it'll magically give him all the answers to life. “What, I don't get a good morning?” Logan snarks, and Alex can hear the suppressed laugh in his voice. Alex has to fight with himself to keep a neutral face as he turns around, mindful not to let all his sickly sweet feelings translate into his expression. “What, will you want a kiss, too?” Alex retorts, pouring himself a glass of orange juice (Florida grown, the bottle proudly declares), his joints still stiff and not quite awake yet. Logan falls unusually quiet. He had been the one to start this whole interaction, and yet now he's freezing up. Alex chances a look at him, and finds Logan chewing the silky insides of his bottom lip, his eyes trained intensely on the juice and the way it sluices around the glass as Alex takes a calculated sip. There's a flush on his cheeks, and he finally forces his eyes away once he notices how purposeful Alex is being.

ahhh again thank you so much it actually means the world to me to hear such kind words :((❤️

send me a trick or treat and I'll surprise you with a trick or a treat ;)

[evesaintyves]

trick or treat 👻🎃❤️

thank you @whinlatter 💕

you get a snippet of my shitty first draft of the Beasts tribute fic i started. for non-whinlatters, Beasts is her absolutely astonishing Ginny & the Weasley family fic that follows her postwar seventh year at Hogwarts, intertwined with glimpses of her development as a child & teenager, and there's a brief mention of a care facility where recipients of the Dementor's kiss live out the rest of their lives. Highly recommend this fic - it's just such a rich portrayal of the whole Weasley family, the fraught rebuilding process after the war, and Ginny's emotional & intellectual life.

tw: illness, death, and very unpleasant hospital stuff

this idea of what happens to people after they've been kissed by a dementor really spoke to me for a few reasons - i couldn't help but think about some of the things i've seen in my professional life. i work in a healthcare specialty i can't really name without potentially doxing myself (it's a small world) and early in my career i occasionally participated in testing to determine death by neurologic criteria - essentially, flat lines on an eeg, which is a really terrible thing to see if you know what you're looking at. it's a difficult thing to even comprehend, especially for a parent - that a child who was splashing in the pool a few hours ago, now seemingly asleep, will not wake up, is damaged so profoundly that they they will never take another unassisted breath. i also regularly worked with people who were incarcerated in the state prison system. it taught me a lot about - let's keep it short and just say inhumanity: in the american healthcare system and especially where it intersects with the criminal justice system, and, unfortunately, in some of my colleagues and the way they cared for their incarcerated patients.

in my current role i work with a lot of patients who just aren't going to get better, who are entirely dependent on caregivers to keep them alive and maintain their quality of life. and it is - i hope you'll understand when i say this i say it as someone who is devoted and privileged to do it - often difficult and demoralizing work. for families and for staff.

my youngest sister was one of these people: she suffered a hemorrhage in infancy which resulted in serious damage to her brain. she never spoke, walked, fed or bathed herself. it was difficult to know what she understood, perceived, felt, wanted. she was a beautiful, calm, sweet-natured child who was easy to love; not every family in our position is so fortunate. it was also easy for us to project on her an interior life that may or may not have really been there, which was a great comfort to my mother. but her daily care needs were enormous, taxing, frustrating, and her inevitable deterioration and death were devastating to witness.

obviously i don't really want to equate people with brain injuries and whatever other special needs with people in the hp universe who no longer have souls - that's part of the reason i've struggled with this fic. there are a lot of potentially-unanswerable questions about the humanity and interiority of victims of soul-removal in this fictional context, but i think the only responsible practice for a clinician working with such patients would be to assume that they still feel, experience, and need what any other person who cannot care for themselves would. including not just nutrition, hygiene, etc. but also company and touch and positive regard. and that whatever crime, even atrocity, they might have committed is irrelevant to my duty to them as a caregiver. but that is easier to say than to do, consistently, every day, at home or in a medical facility, and i know from experience that it won't always happen that way.

anyway, if for some reason you have read this far, here's an excerpt from the story, complete with first-draft placeholders where i decided to rethink some dumb on-the-nose character names, lol. it needs to be rewritten from scratch, honestly. it's set at the end of GoF, when Madame Pomfrey is tasked with removing the house-elf Winky from Barty Crouch, Jr.'s side after he has received the kiss, and I've decided for the purposes of this silly little fic that she has experience in the care facility where he'll end up.

working title is My Beautiful Dead Friends.

Minerva saw the whole horrible thing and it was all over her face, what it had done to her. Poppy has never seen it happen, and neither had [supervisor], which seemed to irritate him; he'd read about it in books. The soul emits a colourless glow as it exits, he said, visible for an instant before it is consumed. For some time in the eighteenth century the Kiss was performed in public, on a platform raised above Diagon Alley. People would bring their children. There were woodcuts depicting the moment, dementors in swirling curlicues, the bound hands and dark mouth of the convicted, and the soul, represented as a star or sometimes a tiny naked man, caught in the moment of transit. It was striking how carefully, how delicately, the little soul was etched, with lines of light coming off it. Even the soul of a murderer, a beautiful shining thing. Minerva had marched Barty to the infirmary dozens of times in his schooldays. Sometimes because Horace wasn't fond of the long walk, nor of standing up to his own students, but often because it was one of her Gryffindors who'd done it to him. He was there all the time, hexed, cursed, punched in the face. It seemed, at first, simply the lot of the delicate-featured son of the head of law enforcement to be regularly trounced. He gave at least as good as he got and sometimes there'd be an entire queue of students behind him covered in boils, missing or extra limbs, pinching their nostrils to stop the bats from flapping out. Barty might chuckle through a mouth of blood while she saw to him, or he might writhe and moan as if in agony; Poppy had a suspicion that it depended on whether there was a Hogmeade weekend or an exam coming up. It wasn't only the usual interhouse skirmishes with Barty—Once, he limped to the hospital wing on his own, so badly beaten she had to put him out for a while and repair his perforated intestines with dozens of tiny movements of the tip of her wand. When he came to, she asked him what had happened, who had done this. He grinned at her with half his teeth gone. "Jusht the cosht of doing businesh, Madame," he said. Bubbles of red on his lips as he spoke. She found out later from Filius that he'd scammed a bunch of Ravenclaws into a sort of pyramid scheme, buying and reselling junk from Zonko's to each other. She was sure he didn't need the money: his robes were clasped with real-silver fasteners in the shapes of snakes. His mother came to take him home for the weekend after that one. He pressed the side of his face into the bosom of her robes and sobbed pitifully while Poppy left them to it behind a screen. On his way out the door, later, he waved to her, like, see you soon! Now he looks content, drowsy, like he's just had a meal. It was always hard to square the faces of the Kissed with what they'd done. Barty could almost be his seventh-year self, resting in the lull of a potion—though he might have already been a murderer by then, she realised. His hands, which had once aimed waves of pain so brutal they'd evicted poor Alice and Frank Longbottom from their own minds, are laced together at rest on his stomach. His thumbnail picks occasionally at the wand-callus on his forefinger. Some unlucky trainee healer will be alarmed by that one day. The Kissed do those little things. Their eyes follow you, sometimes, across the room. They smack their lips when they swallow the bubblemint-flavoured nutrition potion. They sit up in bed. "Look—he's doing it—I've told you—" Llanzo's mother had once cried, summoning the whole staff to come and see. She was tickling Llanzo's ribs with her fingers, and his lips had pulled back, his chest was jerking with spasms of laughter, no sound but a sort of clicking in his throat. "It's a reflex," [supervisor] told her. Llanzo's younger brother slumped in his bedside chair and stared sourly at his mother. She got angry, understandably, and shouted a bit before storming out.

"A rat will make a rhythmic sound if you tickle its belly," [supervisor] told Poppy in private. "You can call it laughter, if you like."

Llanzo was the only one who ever got visitors. He'd been accused of leading a nine-year-old witch away from her parents at Gray's beach and leaving her face-down, strangled, in the shallow mud of the Thames. His mother had given an alibi, which wasn't enough to keep him from being arrested, and he'd been shipped off to Azkaban to be held pending trial. As they'd approached the jagged rocks of the island he'd broken his bonds somehow and heaved himself over the side of the boat. Escape, suicide, or just some motiveless panic, it wasn't clear, but when they'd caught him and hauled him onshore the Dementors had fallen on him at once. He was seventeen, on his summer holidays. Lying in bed on the ward a year later he still looked like a child. Poppy wasn't sentimental, as a rule, but at the end of shift after those visits she'd sometimes have to have a little cry in the car park before she apparated home. "If you ask me I think she's on to something," Catherine told her once, in low tones, eyes on [supervisor]'s office door. "I've seen things. The way they look up at you. You can leave them on the pot for an hour, they won't do a thing, then as soon as they're back on the bed, haven't even had time to get a nappy out—" she made a squelching sound in her cheek. "Pure spite, I swear."

His mother came back the following week, brother in tow, and sat with him reading from Quidditch Through the Ages, turning the book to show him the moving illustrations. Sometimes his gaze moved to land on them and sometimes it didn't. "He was a Chaser," she told Catherine, who'd come to give him a bath. "Fast as anything. His Dad and I were both hopeless on a broom, but he's—" She swallowed hard. Llanzo was smiling faintly, as he often did when he got his bath. His breath came in soft vocal sounds that were almost sighs. "—he's my superstar," she finished. When they left, she made his brother say goodbye to him. Poppy was scrubbing up at the bedside sink to do his skin integrity assessment. Llanzo's brother gripped his hand, and leaned down as if to kiss him on the cheek. "Fucking die," he whispered, lips almost touching Llanzo's motionless face.

[allfleetingdreams]

a love letter to my cat

A non-art related post to celebrate International Cat Day (a lil late because the picture wouldn't upload yesterday smh). I don't think I have made any official posts before anywhere including my old account, so lemme do this.

This baby is named Albert Whiskers (because I love Resident Evil way too much it seems) and he is my very first rescue kitten. There used to be three of them, but unfortunately Albert's siblings, Leon & Ashley, did not survive, leaving my little Betong (my grandma's nickname for him) alone. We rescued him and his siblings from the ceiling of our bathroom, which has open space that enabled their mama cat to sneak in and give birth to all three of them. A few days later mama cat never returned, so we had to go get them. For a month we've been trying our best to take care of the kittens until sadly Leon & Ashley passed due to a compromised immune system.

I've always wanted a cat, but could never adopt/rescue because of the financial and other responsibilities it entailed. I didn't want to get a cat just because I wanted one—what if I can't give it all the care it deserves? But then Albert came along, and we couldn't give him up to a shelter nor look for potential adoptive furparents because not too many people are fond of street cats. Where I come from, people have a preference for cats with breeds—expensive breeds—and with how cruel street cats are often treated, I decided to take it upon myself to raise this little boy. Shelters are overpopulated; rescuers can barely afford their rescues' needs. If Albert went away, his chances at a good life are incredibly low—it might kill him.

And so, here we are. My little boy is an energetic playful one, and he shows his affection by constantly biting me (not too hard!). He’s healthy. He's doing great. We play often. I taught him how to sit and do a high five and a bro fist—would love to teach him more tricks. I've been getting him toys. I hope he is happy, because I love him with all of my heart.

I'm getting teary-eyed as I write this. But this is the most rewarded I have felt. I'm raising a cat—my son, my child, my little best buddy—and even if I cannot help every cat as much as I want to, I will try my best to give this boy the best life he deserves.

[a-minke-whales-tale]

Captivity

I often think myself in human captivity, an animal trapped by them or more born into captivity rather than another human living among them. I do not well relate to the experiences of humans nor relate to and understand them well despite having lived among them. The humans I am certain have their explanations for this, since for them I look as they do, though I do not so much care what they think.

This most recent chain of events becoming whale began around five months ago now realizing my own experience with hospitals in a number of ways mirrors the experience of cetaceans in captivity. Taken from our homes and put in a box where we stay until the humans decide otherwise. Sometimes the box is a little nicer, but you cannot leave. Sometimes the box is nearly bare and there is little to do except pick paint flecks, except until your nails bleed rather than your teeth being worn down. Regardless in this box sometimes there are others, sometimes you are alone, in either case the humans are in charge and they control the food and how you will be treated. You do not understand the rules and must learn fast, the faster you learn and do the tricks the humans demand the better it will be for you.

I am fortunate in a number of ways that I do look like the humans. I was eventually let free from the hospital back to my family, and now many years later I can even have my own life. I can live on my own, I have my own job, and even have friends. Had I been fully a cetacean, or a lizard before, I would not be able to have those things. But I also understand clearly that the relative freedom I enjoy I can only have so long as I am good and obedient to the humans, and so long as they find me useful. In a moment they can, and someday inevitably will, put me back in the box for things like me ultimately belong locked in a box. It is a source of constant anxiety and fear knowing someday I will be put away again. I do not want to go back. My current captivity among the humans is a much nicer one, but I am still a cetacean in captivity, still the humans are in charge, creatures I do not fully understand the rules how to interact, and still I perform tricks for them, except now they give me numbers which I can use to buy food and fish. Still at their whims they can take it and put me back again into the box.

Normal cetaceans in captivity, which really is mostly dolphin, beluga, and orca, baleen whales have only been kept a few times, cannot escape the confines of their pools in the same way I was allowed to leave my box, but should the humans release them they are equipped for life in the sea free of the humans. Unfortunately, I am not, I will never be suitable for wild release for I could not survive out in the sea. Many cetaceans find themselves in this situation, no real hope of life outside human captivity.

I dream to swim free. I know I cannot ever truly live beyond human captivity, but perhaps for a few hours at a time, perhaps more if I am really creative, I can escape captivity and swim free.

[gatheringfiki]

PSA - The Future of Gathering FiKi

Hello,

Folks, the time has come to ask some questions about the future of this little tumblr (to be clear: we do mean the GatheringFiKi tumblr, NOT the FiKi fandom as a whole). This is driven by two factors:

I, that is, @linane-art, the main admin of GatheringFiKi, am about to uproot my life and spend the next 12 months travelling (with 6-9 months of it in New Zealand). As such, I don't know what sort of internet access I'm going to have and how much time I will be able to devote to organising events. Although I do tend to run them as efficiently as possible, they still take up a lot of my time and even more prep. I would like to be able to say that I have prepared and have got things all queued, but I haven't had the time. I would like to say that someone else will pick up the mantle in my absence, but there simply isn't anyone interested. What I AM saying is: it's not impossible, but will be tricky.

We have always said that we'll run our events if there are 10 or more people interested in taking part. With our last event, we saw three (3) people take part, and even before, those numbers were around 5. Now, I really don't want to penalise the 3-5 people who did take part, nor do I have any right to preach (I haven't taken part myself either), but as I keep saying, if you are reading this, then you ARE the fandom; there is no one else who will generate content for us. It's a 'use it or lose it' situation.

With that in mind, I have prepared a short survey for all of you, to take the temperature of the fandom and see how you'd like to proceed.

Take our quick survey here

This survey will run only over the course of this weekend: 27 - 28 August and the results will be posted on Sunday evening.

Please note that this survey will impact on all the events that would normally run January - September 2023, AS WELL AS the already scheduled events for the rest of 2022 (i.e. Trick or Treat and 12 Days of Christmas).

Finally, I think we have a number of people for whom this announcement will be a source of anxiety - I know that for me personally, this is a very difficult post to write, as my love for this pairing is not 1% less than what it was when the films first premiered.

But I do need to know where I stand and I do need to adapt to what you - my audience - needs, if not wants. So please answer truthfully and trust me to do the best I can to support whatever plans you have. Also, please remember that even if GF was to shut down completely tomorrow, nobody is going to stop you, or other interested people, from creating new FiKi content or updating their existing stories.

GF =/= FiKi fandom. YOU are the fandom.

Potential FAQs under the cut:

Why does this whole post say nothing about Britchell/Mitchers, DarkHawk or any other pairings?

Yes, I realise that is the case. FiKi has always been at the core of this specific tumblr and it is our main concern, but it is understood that should GF continue to operate, all other pairings will continue to be serviced exactly as they are today, so long as there's an appetite for content related to those pairings. Basically, we need to work out what is happening with the FiKi fandom first, because this tumblr could not be run as a Britchell/Mitchers/DrakHawk-centric space alone (although there is no reason why someone else couldn't create such a space).

2. What about Rings of Power? Will that not bring an influx of new people interested in FiKi?

Possibly. If I wasn't going to New Zealand, I would have absolutely at least ran the rest of the events for 2022 to see if that extra interest materialises or not, before looking at my options. But the timing is really unfortunate and cannot be helped. Now, if I was to see lots of activity pick up after Rigns of Power are released, I might re-initiate some of the planned events, so long as my internet access and spare time allows it. I am taking all the tools to do it with me.

3. I can't take part in the events because of XYZ, but I would hope that others might! Why isn't that an option?

Because if we are all standing in a circle, eyeing each other to see who will go first, not only does it put unhealthy pressure on those few who will indeed post stuff, but also it doesn't tell me anything about the real uptake of any future events. So as a rule of tumb - speak for yourself and don't look to others to determine your own experience.

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Café Enchanté 2019 Halloween SS - 『Trick or Treat!』 English translation

This is one of the only two things I can translate for Café Enchanté... and well it is October. Not sure if or when i’ll get to translating the other thing as I’m mostly focused on Hakuoki Yuugiroku right now (though at a severely reduced pace unfortunately)... also I am not entirely sure if i will be making this post solely available on patreon later due to the nature of the content (aka this came from one of Otomate’s websites and my policy is basically to do things that minimizes potential problems to myself). 

anyway, since my switch isn’t working right now, I didn’t go check to see if I was using game-accurate terms.... and my translation of this story may not be 100% accurate since I did not translate this from Japanese. 

enjoy~

Cafe Enchanté 2019 Halloween SS -  『Trick or Treat!』

Translation by KumoriYami

——October 31st.

In the human world, it was an exciting day called "Halloween."

Even the non-humans who were the strongest last BOSSes of the world who gathered on the street where Cafe Enchanté was located  were no exception——

Canus:……

Misyr · Il · Ignis · Rindo:……

Canus: Wh-Why are you all staring at me like that? Is there something wrong...

Misyr: Nn~ ahahaha. Not really. Though if asked if something was strange or not, it'd obviously be strange, right?

Rindo: It feels like the punchline ran away from that [???]...... Isn't that a Jack-o-Lantern?

Il: No, that's very different from the reference materials I saw before.

——To say the least, aren't there flames coming out of the pumpkin demon's eyes and mouth?

Ignis: Canus, the inside of pumpkin you used must have been delicious. Don't waste food.

Canus: U-Um, of course. Maybe she'll bake a pumpkin pie when she comes back..... but, is this really bad? Originally, I wanted a prepare a full-body costume.

Ignis: Regardless if you did that, you wouldn't have had that choice....

Rindo: Ahaha...... it should be said that it looks novel——it feels very eye-catching.

Il: Speaking of which, the store owner hasn't returned yet――Did the shopping district meeting get extended?

Misyr: Maybe. All the shops around here are doing something for Halloween, and there will be a mountain of problems associated with the children's itineraries and so on.

Ignis: Che...... Even if you hide Enchanté's existence, it's annoying how you can't hide the the fact it's on this street. I'm not interested in dressing up.

Canus: However, she rarely encourages us to participate in events like this. I cannot agree with your approach.

Ignis:......I know. I didn't say I hated it though, okay?

Il: Hm...... I've suddenly thought up a costume idea. But even if we don't disguise ourselves, if we just remove the recognition obstruction and return to our original appearances――that is to say our non-human forms, wouldn't all our problems be solved?

Rindo: S-Since I can only see a future where my superiors cut my salary, please spare me.....?

Misyr: Ahaha. Well～ regardless of Rindo's overtime and financial circumstances, it's the so-called when in Rome, do as Romans do...…. though it might be a bit different. Still this is a special event, so if you don't obediently enjoy it, it'll be your loss.

Canus: Nn. There are other costumes available. You should change before she comes back.

Ignis:……Ha, I get it. It's just....... seeing your appearance as a pumpkin demon, I'm a little worried about what kind of outfit you chose for me.......

＊　＊　＊

——30 minutes later.

After the first person finished changing clothes.

Misyr:――Trick of treat! If you don't give me some treats, the human world will become covered in corpses? ——Just kidding.

Il: Trick or treat! I don't play tricks, so will you please give me some treats? If possible, please give me some ice cream!

Ignis: Hey, the stupid fallen angel over there. That's blackmail, right? You can't choose the type of treat you get.

Il: You can't? I really don't think I want to play tricks though——

Rindo: Haha. It's not impossible since he's a really gentle Frankenstein. As for the Demon King....... even if you gave him some treats, he will still likely play tricks.

Misyr: Oh, sorry. I keep my promises. Add— ition—ally? Today I am not the Demon King, but a Zombie King! ——I'll bite you and turn you into my zombie companion～★

Canus: Fufufu...... you're having a lot of fun/you're very happy, Misyr.

Misyr: Well. It's great that everyone is having fun. Furthermore, there are never any chances to dress up...... so wouldn't it be better to be thorough to have more fun?

Rindo: Having said that...... you seem more dignified, Misyr. If you continued that, you might seem more like a demon king than usual.

Misyr: What? Did you say something? Do you your guts to be pulled out? If it's Rindo, you'll be able to handle it regardless of how many times that happens★

Rindo:  I didn't say anything?!

Il:————(Chew chew)

Ignis: Hey, what did you suddenly start eating? Where the hell did that cupcake come from.

Canus:――Huh!? Il wanted to eat something sweet, so I just took that out of the cupboard......

Misyr: Hahaha, it's an overprotective pumpkin demon.

Ignis: Are you qualified to say that?

Il: Ohmnomnom [basically Il is eating and I have no idea what else to write here].

Ignis: Don't talk while eating!

Rindo: Fufu. well, since Il is eating cupcakes, it's our turn to change, right? Ignis.

Ignis: Ha...... okay. My costume looks very simple, and there are a lot of knickknacks...... what sort of costume is this? This……

＊　＊　＊

Ignis, who returned after changing, was wearing――

Misyr:............Wow——......

Canus: Oohh......

Ignis:――What. What's with your reactions. Does this....... look strange?

Canus: No...... it's just a bit surprising.

Misyr:――Yes yes. I thought you were someone wearing a wolf kirugumi.

Rindo: I also thought he looked like a werewolf......

Ignis: That's because of your impressions of how I'm a flaming wolf...... isn't it? I tried not to minimize my original features since this is just supposed to be a disguise/costume.

Il: I think it suits you, Ignis. Pirates are always associated with a sense of roughness, which is just like you——

Ignis:——Okay, you hikikomori. Starting from today, I'll be eating all of your desserts. Aren't pirates associated with "looting"?

Il:……?! I, I refuse! I was praising you, so why?!

Misyr: But a pirate's costume has a man's sense of romance. I think it's cool.

Canus: Then, Rindo?

Rindo:……

Misyr: · Canus · Ignis · Il:………………

Rindo: Oya...... that's the same reaction as Canus, but——

Ignis:......! That's it. You're "someone prepared poison because of overwork"!

Misyr: That's it!

Il: ! That's right.

Canus:......Oh. That's all I can think of too.

Rindo:――It's not that. Speaking of which, isn't it because of you all that I'm needing to work so hard? Anyway..... this is a scientist costume.

Ignis: A scientist?

Rindo: Right. This was probably prepared based on the image off my colleague, Mikado.

Il: So it's like that. This is the so-called "mad scientist".

Canus: Nn. Hearing you say that, it does remind me of how Mikado dresses.

Ignis: Then the liquid inside that syringe is——

Rindo: Oh, this is fruit juice. This can be used when kids are thirsty――. It seems that what's inside can be changed easily.

Misyr: Hm, these recent accessories are a lot more sophisticated. In the past, Halloween costumes were more simple......

＊　＊　＊

In this way, as time passed, they all expressed their opinions about their costumes——

Canus: Nn...... it's been a long time. She should be returning soon.

Misyr:  Ah, that's right. I just finished changing, but why don't we all greet her together as we are?

Ignis: Ah? Li-Like this....... Ah～...... it's embarrassing......

Rindo: Haha, but wouldn't she be very happy?

Il: Yes, I think so. The manager was full of enthusiastism while she was thinking about a Halloween menu for today.

Canus: Indeed. I think she was looking forward to today.

Ignos: I, I get it........ Then....... if I'm gooing to have to do this――I'm going to do it like a pirate!

Misyr: Okay, okay. That's the spirit. ——Now, speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.

A familiar silhouette was heading straight to Enchanté's door and moved to open it.

Misyr and the others were waiting for her arrival, and as the door bell rang:

"Trick or treat!"

end

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

tn: The part where it says last “BOSS” was actually in English in the tl I used and the original text... but i had to make it plural since that grammatically did not work in English.

original link for this was (remove square brackets): [http://][blog.][otomate.][jp/info/article/2019/1031-4304.php]

[fierceawakening]

Looks like this person posted and then immediately blocked me, so I lost a whole post of response.

Anyway, if they had been sincere about wanting to change my mind on this issue, and I’d anyone else wants sincerely to try, here’s a rough reconstruction of what my reply was:

Can you link me to a specific example of trans men talking over trans women about transmisogyny? Because it could be that I haven’t seen it, or it could be that a post you saw as an example of that, I read differently. If you link me to what you’re looking at, I can reread it with your concerns in mind. I can’t promise it will change my mind and I’m not going to hold out false hope, but I can promise that I will reread and think about it, especially if you have time to explain your reading (and I know not everyone always does.)

If you don’t explain, I’m unfortunately going to have to assume what you think is what I’ve seen and found unconvincing, which seems to be a linguistic analysis of phrases that goes like this:

Trans (oppressed) men (privileged)

-1 + 1 = 0

Trans (oppressed) women (oppressed)

-1 + -1 = -2

-2 < 0

QED Trans women more oppressed than trans men

Therefore trans women’s voices should be elevated more, proportionally.

I don’t find this convincing because it seems to me like a trick of language that’s not necessarily reflected in how people are actually treated. Whether people face sexism like women do or are treated as trustworthy and respected like men depends on how they are perceived, and trans people are sometimes perceived as our AGAB, sometimes as our gender, sometimes as neither in a confused but not actively hostile way, and sometimes as neither in a way that’s seen as monstrous, threatening, or alien.

If there is a calculus that can be performed to decide which of us tends to have it worse, it needs to be more complicated than -2 < 0.

Can you show me where the people who would like me to expressly and repeatedly proclaim myself TME have done a more thorough calculus?

I can’t promise it will convince me (I don’t think oppression and math mix well, for reasons I’ll go into if you need it), but it would help me to see this differently.

Or if it’s not math, that’s even better, and probably more convincing to me as a person tired of oppression math.

(Nota Bene: as they just blocked me and didn’t let me reply, default assumption is this is progressive stack posturing and I shouldn’t change my mind. But if anyone does want to prove me wrong, please do.)

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Hello!! Can we have an couple of HCs of the safehouse bois (COD: Cold War) loving their curvy fem s/o? (and maybe trying to make her feel happy in her body if she's insecure of feels weird?)

Thankie and sorry for the oddly specific request 😅

Djsjsjsj ok ik you have like two other requests, and they'll be coming!!! But this struck such a mood I had to skip the line lol.

Honestly, like the way I tried to treat myself to some ✨ s p i c e y ✨ lingerie that just arrived and it fits literally everywhere else except that, ofc the cup size is an absolute JOKE, i-

Anyway, I digress lmao. Thank you for the request(s) btw, and enjoy!!!

---

Adler

Personally, he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to have a particularly strong preference for any one "type"

But in the era where the super tall, super slim, super models reign supreme, he understands that sometimes it's hard to feel pretty if you're built like anything else

After all, I don't think any of the guys know how it feels to see yourself as "unattractive" more then he does

I mean, if he'd been cut a little deeper or on a different angle, he could've needed whole skin grafts, or even physical therapy for his jaw

And who wants a guy as messed up and broken down as that, right?

But you... Oh, you're gorgeous

Adler is very soft and gentle when it comes to his appreciation for you and your body

While he does know how to express himself, he's not really the grand gesture type, like some of the others are

He is the biggest self love hypocrite, always quick to get down on himself and his facial scars, but absolutely cannot STAND to see you upset over you body

You chide him for this now and then, but he usually jokes it away

I know I said Adler doesn't really have a type, but don't think for a second that he'd pass up on a great thing when he gets it

I don't want to say "handsy" but he definitely likes to just... Touch you, when you're alone together

Not even necissarily in a sexual way, he just likes to appreciate the shape of you, you know?

Very into hugs from behind, or really at any angle, as long as he gets to feel his arms around your waist

Also, you can catch him absent mindedly caressing your hips with his knuckles or a lone finger whenever he's standing around with you

Hudson

Oh y'all ain't ready for this one lmao

I am 99% certain that behind that steely facade, is a man who loves nothing more then a THICC juicy Queen™

I'm so serious, like the curvier the better for this dirty dog lmao

The best part is, that the fun isn't in that he just goes feral when you two are alone (although he certainly could, in a rare mood)

He's actually really shy about it, and he doesn't want you to feel like that's the only reason he loves you

And while you do appreciate the respect he has for you, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like to tease him

A favorite of yours is to walk into his home office half or fully naked and watch him, very obviously, struggle to stay focused on his paper work

He knows he's weak, but damn it he can never last long before giving in and handing over whatever kind of attention you're seeking

You know, whatever that may be 😏

When you're feeling insecure however, he can sense it immediately and always seeks to get to the bottom of whatever is causing you to feel that way

Although he's rather direct, he's tactful and tries his best to know the right thing to say

He's a great listener, and will never hesitate to tell you how beautiful and special you are to him

Lazar

Lmao, I don't think there is any universe in which Lazar would not be in full support of being with a curvy woman

Especially as a big guy himself, you two are an absolute power couple

He is both literally and metaphorically your biggest hype man when it comes to your appearance

Also, 10/10 likes to give you gifts of clothes and the like that he thinks you might appreciate/look pretty darn good in

Honestly, it is rare to feel down about your body when in a relationship with him, but everyone gets insecure sometimes, and he gets that

Thankfully, he's a master comforter, and is always at the ready to give you the treatment you need to feel better

Typically you can expect snacks and cuddles if you're just feeling sad, and stuff like a massage or body kisses and so forth if you need a reminder that you're literally the most gorgeous woman on earth

Oh, and he's very protective of you and defensive of your looks

I kind of hate to use this terminology lmao, but Lazar is the Alpha™ everywhere he goes, and he has no problem reminding other guys of it

So if he sees someome else checking you out, he'll be sure to block their view and do something like make direct eye contact until they leave you be

Have you ever had a 6'4, powerlifter looking, tank of a man sneer directly at you before?

Not a good feeling, I assure you

Needless to say, you don't have to put up with much, if any harassment or other stupidity on Lazar's watch

Mason

Alex strikes me as the type who doesn't buy into the paper thin beauty standard that society like to push

Obviously that's great if you're just naturally thin and all! But mostly he's totally down for the curvy, "built like a brick house" type of woman

He appreciates the way that you can keep up with him when he has to do physical things around or outside the house

Alaska is a rather unforgiving place after all, so he finds great comfort in the support and companionship you have to offer him

You're like his little amazonian goddess, and he's always in awe of not only how unbelievably beautiful you are, but also how hardy and tough you can be

In fact, you and your body are so normalized and loved by him in his mind that it genuinely catches him off guard when you say you're feeling insecure about it

But in times like that, he loves to tell you how beautiful your body is, not just for the way it looks but for the things it can do

You're built so strong and tough, but also soft and feminine... he can't even think about being with anyone else

He's very into body worship, like Lazar is, but Alex is a lot more gentle and is extremely conscious of making sure you're alright as he goes along kissing and caressing

If he could only show you how beautiful you are to him, he would in a heartbeat, but for now he just hopes his words and actions are enough

Sims

Oh, you already know Sims loves a thicc, curvy snack of a woman lmao

Skinny guys always love the curvy ladies

He doesn't really go feral when you two are alone, but he's not exactly shy about having this hands all over you either

For sure he always greets you with a compliment, whether it be a look, a whistle, or words... he's prepared

Also, he's very vocal in having you understand that there is not a single outfit you look "bad" or "unflattering" in, even if it's just sweats and a t-shirt

In fact, he is so confident in you, that he loves to show you off when he can and if you're comfortable

Always introduces you as "his girl" and is never afraid to point out your new outfit, hair-do, nails, ect

I feel that Lawrence would be another case where it's quite rare indeed to feel insecure about your body, and so when such times do arise he takes it seriously

He's basically a gentler, more emotional version of Hudson

By that I mean, he's the type to want to talk it out (if you're up to it) and ask what's wrong or if someone said something to you

You'll always have a reliable listener and food advice giver in him, and somehow that seems to always do the trick

Woods

Honestly, Woods is Hudson part 2, except that he has all the vocalized pride of loving curvy women as Sims and Lazar

He's still careful to make sure he doesn't come off as a creep or something, mind you, but complimenting and loving on your body just comes naturally to him

Extremely handsy in private, and you've definitely swatted his hands away from your hips, waist, back, ect more then once

In public, I wouldn't exactly say "handsy" but he's determined to make sure everyone knows you're with him

He usually escorts you places with a hand gently placed either just above your tailbone or protectively wrapped around your waist

As independent as you may be, you must admit, it's nice to feel like a princess everywhere you go, escorted around by your knight in shining flannel

He'll even offer you his arm if he's feeling particularly gentlemanly, because yes, miracles can happen

Unfortunately, Frank is probably the worst wordsmith of all the gang, and is next to clueless on what to say if you're feeling down and insecure

At least to his credit he'll usually start off by admitting to that fact before giving it a try

"Well, you know I'm shit with words, but... I hope you also know that I love you the way you are"

Thankfully what he lacks in words, he makes up for in physical affection

Even if you're really only comfortable with some cuddling, he's gonna cuddle you so good!!! He's determined and will stop at nothing

After all, whatever it takes to make you feel every bit as amazing as he knows you are

[sweetlittlevampire]

Crossposted from twitter. Feel free to ignore.

Vent thread ahead. I’m experiencing a mood drop, so please read at your own discretion should you decide to do so.

So today was…a hard day, mentally. Nothing much happened, but I woke up with my mood already being in seclusion, and then my mother proceeded to be her usual charming unhelpful self, and yeah. It just spiraled from there.

I tried crying it out in the shower, which usually does help as a vent technique for me, but for some reason, it only made me more miserable. As I stood there toweling off, I started scolding myself: “Just suck it up. You’re an adult; act like it.”

Which, funnily enough, mirrors an anonymous comment I received a while ago when some fandom drama went down and I felt negatively affected by it – maybe unjustified, but it still hit close to home. I was in a similar headspace back then than I am now, and it gave me pause today.

(I know anon from back then at least sees my posts Hi! I hope life is treating you well.)

Because honestly? Being able to behave like my adult self would be GREAT. I wonder if people think that being like this and feeling like this is fun. Because honestly? It isn’t. I cannot stand myself when I am like this. Every time I look in the mirror, I want to claw my face off. I probably would have blocked myself a long time ago if I was seeing my own posts as an outsider. And I get it – it must be super annoying to witness. I hate it. I cannot begin to think of how much other people must hate it.

Unfortunately, my brain has been shaped like this by people and events that I could not avoid for the first twenty-two years of my life. They shaped me, as a person, too, as much as I loathe to admit it. It’s not easy to shake off and to arise as a New Person once those events and people are out of your life. In my case, said person will never return, but everything they did, everything they said, is still with me, and will probably be forever.

The thing is: I am working on processing all of this. On overcoming it, ultimately, but it’s super hard. And with how much I’m whining it must look like I’m not even trying, but believe me: I am still here. I just typed this. You are reading it. And I am typing this because I’ve been working hard to get better. If I was still the Rima I was when I was eighteen years old? I am sure she wouldn’t be here anymore to type this.

“But why are you word-vomiting this here? We don’t like it, and we don’t want to read it!”

Look. I’ve tried a diary. I’ve tried journaling. It didn’t help because it felt like talking to a wall. It didn’t matter. It did nothing for me except frustrate me further. When I try talking to real physical people, my brain tricks me into thinking that I am using them as my emotional and psychological trashcan, which…doesn’t help either. Posting online at least gives me the semblance of “someone at least saw it, so it might matter to someone”, which is…idiotic, admittedly, but it is what it is. And I need to talk it out because if I don’t, I’ll overthink and spiral further. It’s not pretty. I don’t want that to happen. Also: I know that private accounts exist on twitter, but I honestly don’t have the energy to manage two accounts.

I am not fishing for compassion or empathy, either, despite what it may sound like – because I know that the way I tweet might come across as such. No one is forced to engage with my rants or vents or posts in which I talk about what’s going on with me. Usually, I just need to clear my head. We’re all busy, we all have our own baggage to carry, and sometimes we’re only on here to relax and do fun stuff – that’s super valid! That’s the reason why I usually number those threads and put a warning at the beginning, so people can skip them. If you wish to engage with them and wish to reply to me? That’s totally okay too!

So, I guess the tl; dr would be: Rima is going through it, and will be going through it more often as she tries to get better, and Rima will post about it. If you wish to unfollow or block me because of that fact, please go ahead – no hard feelings! I commend you for looking after yourselves and curating your online experience accordingly.

Take care, lovelies!

[jadoue1999]

The X-Men and the member they lost - Chapter 9

Summary: Erik and Wanda have a little talk

Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Interrupted

After Erik left his son’s room, he decided to walk back to where he had been before. Charles was still in the library, reading the same book. He glanced up as he saw him enter.

“How did it go?”

“Wanda tried a spell and it backfired. Neither of them told me what it was but they both seemed shaken.” He sighed as he sat down on the sofa in front of his friend. “I just wish Peter would talk to me, it’s clear he’s not coping well.”

The bald man nodded. “You’re right, I might not be able to see in his mind, but what he felt just now was bone chilling terror. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt from him.”

That was worrisome. If the telepath hadn’t sensed anything similar to what happened just now in the whole year Peter had been in the mansion, that meant that whatever he saw must have been horrible. Especially considering how close he had been to die when En Sabah Nur broke his leg and almost killed him. There was no doubt that he must have quite the nightmares after that experience.

“Charles, I can’t help, but think that Peter really has changed.”

The man frowned at him. “What do you mean, old friend?”

He sighed as he looked pensively at the floor, trying to sort his thoughts. “I know that he’s physically fine, but he’s been acting different ever since we saved him from that place.”

“I understand, he hasn’t been as reckless since he came back. It seems his experience made him mature.” The telepath pressed his lips together. “But I’m not the person you should tell that.”

Erik nodded, “yes, but every time I try to talk to him, he pushes me away. He denies every nightmare and every sudden memory flash. Peter doesn’t seem to trust me.”

Charles watched him for a few seconds, probably wondering if he should say whatever he was thinking. He cleared his throat. “Well, there’s always someone else you can talk to.”

“No.”

The wheelchair bound man put a hand on his and gave him a serious soul piercing stare. “Erik, she is the one that started everything in the first place, she has answers no one else knows. You have to talk to Wanda.”

The telepath didn’t give him time to protest, he simply left the room. Erik was speechless for a few seconds before he started thinking about what Charles had said. He was, as usual, right, but he didn’t feel ready yet to talk to the woman. Especially since what had just happened in Peter’s room. Erik sighed as he contemplated the flames in the fireplace; he knew what had to be done, but he didn’t want to do it. Not tonight at least, not after the confession he just told them.

...

It had been about five days since he had made the decision to eventually talk to Wanda. Erik felt ready, he had to confront her. He waited until everyone was in bed before knocking on the woman’s door. She opened it and her eyes widened in confusion as she took him in.

“Hi?” She said, hesitantly. “Can I help? Is it Peter?”

Erik shook his head. “No, I’m here to have a conversation that is long overdue.”

The redhead nodded in understanding and opened her door all the way, letting him in. The room wasn’t all that personalized, but he did spot a picture of her, Vision, Peter, and the twins smiling at the camera. It was on the table next to her bed. He figured she had conjured it as a way to remember them. She sat down on her bed as he pulled out her desk chair. Her body language screamed anxiety as she kept pressing her lips together and readjusting her position. Finally, she spoke up.

“Erik, I know I haven’t said it before, but I’m so sorry for what I did. To you, to your team and Peter. It was wrong and I should’ve controlled my grief better.”

The man gave her a small nod, “thank you, it truly wasn’t a fun experience. As for your grief, I did mean it when I said we were similar. I hunted down the man who used me as his lab rat for years, killing every Nazis I could find, and I allied myself with a powerful mutant that wanted to destroy the world when my wife and daughter died. I’m afraid I know all too well why you reacted that way; even if I don’t agree with what you did.”

After he was done, neither of them talked for about a minute. Both probably trying to figure out what to say next. Erik spoke first.

“Did you feel bad, at least?” He paused, letting the question hang in the air. “Putting my son back under mind control? Living with the fact that you were lying to yourself?”

He could see how Wanda tensed up, but he didn’t care, he wanted to know. The redhead slowly nodded. “Yes, I did,” she fiddled with her bedcover, not looking at him. “I had many intrusive thoughts that kept reminding me of what I did. But I was so distressed about losing my brot-“ she quickly glanced at him, “-Peter, that I ignored them.”

He sighed at how she cut herself off, “Wanda, it’s alright if you consider yourself siblings. You are, in a way. I saw the bond you two shared when you went trick or treating. And I’m glad you were aware that your actions were wrong and that you freed him in the end.”

The woman squeezed her eyes and her features twisted in guilt. “Yes, but I wanted to keep him,” she sobbed. “Even as I removed the necklace, I had to keep myself from putting it back on.” The redhead was now crying, tears quickly running down her cheeks. “I’m glad to be here, but it’s a struggle to not want to put things back the way they were. I miss my family.”

Erik acted without thinking and took the woman in a hug, surprising them both. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but it seemed to help her as she sobbed on his shoulder. A question popped into his mind, it was a stupid and hurtful one, but he had to ask.

“If you could have your brother back, would you choose him over my son?”

Wanda’s breath hitched as she heard him, she removed herself from his arms and looked at him with puffy eyes. “I- yes, but I cannot see a future without Peter at my side. I would probably try to have them both.” She chuckled sadly, “we could be the Maximoff triplets.”

He smirked at her suggestion; one speedster was already a lot. Not sure the world could handle two. Wanda suddenly stiffened and stilled for a few seconds. Her eyes were unfocused, something Charles usually did when someone was contacting him mentally. She finally moved again and turned to him.

“We have to go, something’s wrong with Peter.”

He didn’t protest and followed her as she passed through the halls. She was going as fast as she could without waking up anyone.

They could hear some noise coming from the speedster’s room. When they opened the door, they were greeted with a messy bed and a silver blur that kept going around the room. Everything that was on his path met an unfortunate end as his superspeed literally tore through it. Wanda entered the room first, unsure of what to do, but wanting to help in any way. Peter stopped in his track as he started looking around wildly. His eyes were filled with fear and panic. It was clear he was experiencing a nightmare and some sort of sleep walking.

“Peter,” called out the redhead, “what’s going on?”

The speedster swiftly turned his head towards her.

“Trebuie să ne ascundem!”

Erik froze as Peter suddenly took Wanda’s hand and brought them both under his bed. He was certain his son didn’t speak Romanian, even in sleep he still had an accent. Still there he was, telling the redhead they had to hide.

His eyes were locked unto an unseen something that was a few feet away, almost in his face. His face was twisted in fear as he kept holding Wanda’s hand; either in a way of comfort or to keep her with him he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was both. Erik called out his son’s name, trying to make him realize it was only a dream. Only, he didn’t react and kept flinching every few seconds as whatever he was hearing. Wanda squeezed his hand, but he kept his eyes on the spot in front of them.

“Peter,” she said. He didn’t react to his name. Wanda seemed to realize something as she frowned in worry. “Pietro.” The speedster turned to her. “It’s alright, frate, it’s only a nightmare.”

Her voice was thick with her accent, something that he hadn’t seen her use before. Erik watched as the pair talked, both of them trying to reason with the other. Both in Romanian. Wanda finally brought a hand to Peter’s head and a flick of red filled his eyes. He seemed to suddenly relax, and he fell back asleep, still under the bed. The woman slowly removed herself from his side and shared a worried look with Erik.

“I can’t wake him up suddenly, his mind is too fast, it could hurt him.” She motioned him closer, intending to have him help her get Peter back to his bed. “He’ll wake up naturally in a few minutes.”

They slowly pulled him out and laid him down. His face was relaxed, there was no hint of the panic he had felt just a moment ago. Erik watched him sleep for a few seconds before turning to the woman.

“What happened?”

Wanda’s hand was brushing Peter’s face in a soothing motion. “That... wasn’t just a nightmare.” She looked at him, “that was one of Pietro’s memories.”

Erik turned to her with accusation in his eyes. “You have to remove them! Why does he still have them in the first place?”

She froze at his sudden anger, her eyes flickered between him and his son. “He- Peter didn’t want another person messing with his mind, I respected his wishes,” snapped Wanda. She breathed in, “I’ll see what I can do, but he has to be awake.”

As if on cue, the speedster groaned, complaining about the noise. Erik smirked as he muttered something about them yelling someplace else than his room. The particularity of the situation must have settled in his brain because he suddenly opened his eyes and looked at them in confusion. “Uh... hi? Any reason why you decided to settle your differences in my bedroom instead of, I don’t know... the danger room?”

Erik felt relief at the fact that it really was Peter, at least he didn’t wake up thinking he was Pietro. Wanda approached him with caution and took his hands.

“You had a nightmare.”

He suddenly tensed up and lowered his gaze. “Ah... you heard that.”

Peter wasn’t asking, that was a statement. Erik wasn’t sure how to react, it was obvious by what he had just said that his son had been having more nightmares than he let on. He doubted that singing to him like he did to Nina when she had a bad dream would do much. Especially since they weren’t just nightmares, they were actual memories of his alternate dead self.

“How long have you had them? Why wasn’t I aware?” Questioned Wanda, understandably shaken by the situation.

“Like I’ve explained before,” started Peter, “people don’t just get into my mind. And I suppose you’re usually asleep when it happens.”

In true Peter fashion, he was trying to shrug it off as nothing. But they wouldn’t let it slide, after what Erik had seen from the many files at SWORD, their lives had been riddled with war and trauma. But what they had just witnessed, he wasn’t exactly sure what it was. He turned to the woman.

“Show me,” Wanda looked at him confusedly. “What he saw, I want to understand.”

Peter suddenly straightened up in his bed. “Dad, I really don’t think-“

“I’m doing it,” he interrupted. He shared a look with Wanda, who gave him a quick nod. A red light glowed from her fingertips and she brought them to his temple.

Erik was immediately seized by a strong explosion. He turned to see two children on the ground, laying amongst the rubble. The little girl was pushing herself up in disbelief as she took in the destroyed building that surrounded them. While they both had dark brown hair, it was obvious they were Wanda and Pietro. There was a strong burnt smell in the air mixed with the metallic smell of blood. The girl was calling out to their parents as the ashes fell in her hair. She went to take a step, but her brother stopped her. He grabbed her hand and ran under the skeletal remain of the bed. The children were arguing about having to leave, but they were interrupted when a second bomb landed right in front of them. Erik gasped as he realized what Peter had been staring at when he himself was hiding under the bed. There was a beeping every few seconds. Erik watched as everything sped up, showing the children slowly starve and flinch at every noise that was heard. They were finally rescued, but it was obvious they were not alright. They clung to each other like their lives depended on it. The vision faded and Erik was back to Peter’s room. The pair was looking at him worryingly, waiting for the man to talk.

He first looked at Wanda, “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he apologized. He then turned to his son, “this is what you saw?”

The speedster nodded, “yes, that was tonight’s nightmare.”

Erik raised an eyebrow at him, “tonight?”

Peter flinched; it was obvious he didn’t mean to share so much. Why was his son so keen on keeping everything to himself? The speedster shared a look with Wanda, “I have Pietro’s entire life stored in my head.” He cleared his throat. “It was simple in Westview, I only had them. Ever since I’m back to myself, it’s a constant fight between my life and his.”

Wanda covered her mouth in horror. “I’m so sorry,” her eyes were wide in shock. She sat next to him, “please let me help.”

She brought up a hand to his head. He seemed to want to push her away, but ultimately let her continue. Her fingertips glowed red once again and Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes as the red swirled around his head. Erik watched as both the adults seemed to sync in their little tics and twitches. Both jerking their heads and frowning at nearly the same time. Wanda was the first one to open her eyes and she met his gaze with an apologizing look. Peter’s eyes finally opened, though he seemed slightly dizzy.

“Did it work?” He knew it was stupid to ask, the redhead was obviously trying to hint at him that it hadn’t worked. But then again, he had been clueless to his true lineage with Peter. Which was really obvious when you thought about it seriously for a few minutes.

The woman shook her head. “I don’t understand it, the memories are mixed together. I can’t remove anything without a high risk of erasing some of his real memories.”

“So…” spoke up Peter. “I’m stuck with them forever?”

“I’m afraid so,” apologized Wanda.

Erik took a few steps forward, considering the consequences of his son’s situation. He hadn’t met anyone with a double set of memories. Even less of someone with those of their alternate dead self. The closest he had as a reference was Charles. With the number of minds, he sometimes accidently and purposely read, he was a little similar to what Peter was going through. He did remember the telepath complaining about nightmares and having trouble sleeping occasionally, but he seemed to be doing better recently. Perhaps the man could teach Peter some tricks? But there was one thing that was still on his mind.

“How will this affect him?” Both of them turned to him. “What if his nightmares get the best of him and he eventually doesn’t know which memories and his and Pietro’s? What if your brother’s memories eventually replace his actual memories?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, dad,” reassured Peter. “I know which memories are mine. There’s significantly less war and trauma in my life.”

Wanda waved a hand into the air and a notebook appeared out of nowhere. She had a worried frown on her face as she handed it to him. “Please try to fill in as much as you can. I’ll be able to know which are which.”

The speedster’s expression showed how he didn’t think it was necessary, but he took the notebook, nonetheless. He put it on the desk next to his bed and looked around for a few awkward seconds before speaking up.

“So, I know you guys are badass and powerful and probably don’t need that much sleep because of some freaky mutation, but I do. Not that much, but the twenty minutes I got before you barged in, are definitely not enough.”

Wanda smiled in amusement and gave him a quick hug before leaving the room. Erik walked over to his son who was slowly settling back into his bed. He pulled the cover over him, Peter didn’t protest, either because he didn’t mind, or he was too tired to care.

“I can’t believe it’s my first time tucking you in,” Erik joked.

The speedster chuckled before mumbling something and burying his head in his pillow. The metal wielder smirked as he heard the man lightly snore, already asleep. He brushed a hand in his silver hair before walking out the room and closing the door behind him. He mentally called out to Charles, hoping the man wasn’t asleep yet.

“I’m in my office,” came his friend’s voice.

Erik quickly headed towards the telepath’s position. He made an effort to try to open the door silently, but that door obviously didn’t care that people were sleeping. Then again, seeing how the telepath perked up his head to greet him, it might have been on purpose.

“You talked to Wanda?”

Right, his discussion with Wanda. That felt so far away now. “I did, but we have another problem.”

“Oh?”

“Peter and Pietro’s memories have mixed together. Wanda heard his distress and we found him reliving one of his alternate self’s traumatic event.” He looked at the man, who was intensely staring at him. His eyes were filled with concern as he listened. “I fear he might eventually lose himself if he doesn’t learn to control them.”

Charles nodded, “I’ll try to give him some tricks, but we have to keep in mind that my telepathy and his experience are barely the same thing.” The man looked up to see the worry in his eyes, he cleared his throat. “Still, it’s similar enough. I promise you, Erik, Peter will be just fine.”

With that, the man declared it was time for him to go to sleep. He closed the files he had on his desk and exited the room. Erik sighed as he repeated what the telepath had told him.

“Just fine…” he whispered. “Let’s hope you’re right, Charles.”

***

Notes: next chapter: Peter and Charles try to find a solution

[theseusernamesarehard]

Heavenly pastries and mediocre coffee - Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: On an adventure for some coffee one morning, Fred Weasley happens to wonder into a bakery where he meets a flour covered woman who will leave quite the impression on him.

Warnings: None except this might be a bit boring :/

Time: This takes place the summer before the war so in the beginning of the Half-Blooded prince

A/N: Hi! This is my second fic on here and I would love some feedback especially since it’s a tad different from my other one (meaning that this might be a tad more boring). I had this idea and wrote it out, but while reading it I realized that nothing happens in this. So I would love to know if you enjoy calmer fics like this since I still liked this one!

Word count: 2,8k

gif isn’t mine credit to whoever made it!

“Oi, Fred!” George yelled from downstairs while Fred was still struggling to get out of bed.

“Whaaaat?” he groaned.

“The coffee machine is broken and I cannot fix it for the life of me.”

“Have you tried reparo?” Fred said as he got out and walked to the kitchen where George was standing next to steaming coffee maker.

“Have I tri-Of course I’ve tried reparo! What do you think I am, a bloody idiot?”

“Fine, fine. What do you reckon we do? I’d much rather have a coffee this morning, but I don’t think there’s time to go to a café before we have to open the shop.”

“I can handle the shop if you go get coffee? I’m sure there’s a good place around here somewhere.”

“All right, I’ll go. Want anything special?”

“Just a normal coffee and a pastry of some sort.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can!” Fred promised as he rushed back to his room to get dressed.

“I’ll get everything set up!” George promised.

In twenty minutes, Fred was exiting the shop, now fully dressed and hair still a little damp from his shower. He was on a quest to find a good place for coffee, which there were surprisingly little of on Diagon Alley. Finally, after walking around for a bit, he saw a little bakery that he was quite certain hadn’t been there for long. He entered with a hope that they had at least some sort of machine that produced anything caffeinated and walked up to an empty counter where he rang the bell.

After a moment, a woman erupted through a door that presumably led to the back space of the bakery. She was calm and walked over peacefully despite the fact that her face was almost completely covered in flour.

“Good morning and welcome to Bailey’s bakery! What can I get started for you?” she said enthusiastically, but Fred was trying his hardest to hold in his laughter, so he couldn’t answer right away. “What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked innocently, but the corners of her mouth were twitching as well.

“Perhaps a bit of flour, but it’s barely noticeable. Bailey, I assume?” he asked after chuckling slightly.

“Oh no, I’m actually Y/N. Bailey, the owner, is in the back preparing all the baked goods and trust me, that’s how you want it. I’m truly horrendous at baking.”

“If you don’t bake how do you have all that flour on your face?”

“Well let’s just say Bailey has been a bit stressed with the opening of this place and was not having any of my antics today.”

“So she threw flour at you?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t think bosses are supposed to treat their employees like that.”

“They are when the employees are their best friend since Hogwarts and truth be told the aforementioned employee kind of deserve it.”

“I don’t know if anyone deserves a face full of flour first thing in the morning.”

“Well that just comes to show that you haven’t met me before. Now, what can I get for you?”

“Right, I meant to ask, do you have any coffee here?”

“Oh yes we do! And it is in fact extremely mediocre.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say it’s excellent?”

“Well see now that’s the trick. If I say the coffee is excellent, you’ll know I’m saying it just because I am meant to sell it. But if I say the coffee is mediocre, your interest is peaked and you’ll have no choice, but to try it and see for yourself. Am I correct?”

“I suppose I am more intrigued by the coffee now.”

“Exactly. So technically, this is a better way of selling coffee.”

“You are right.”

“So a coffee it is. Here or to go?”

“Two coffees actually. And both to go.”

“Two? Seems as though I am a better saleswoman than I thought.”

“Perhaps you should open your own shop.”

“As much as I clearly have a knack for selling things, I think I fair better as a worker who offers anecdotes about coffee and then pours that coffee”, she laughed and presented her skill to dot he latter. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. I was asked to bring some sort of baked good, but I have been given no other instructions. Any recommendations?”

“I’ll go and see what our ever-so-cheerful baker would say.”

With that, the young woman walked to the door and stood behind it to open it so that she was not in front of the door when it was opened. She clearly knew what she was doing as another handful of flour was thrown out the door onto the floor immediately.

“Ha! Missed me”, she smiled, now standing at the door. Unfortunately that was when she got another face full of flour, but she just shrugged at Fred and grinned widely. “I’ve also got a customer here, don’t know if that’s worth mentioning.”

“You do not!” a woman’s voice yelled in horror.

“Oh yes I do. A very lovely gentleman who needs some recommendations on baked goods. have any to offer him?” she smiled.

“Go get yourself cleaned up, I’ll take it from here”, a frantic looking woman with an apron and a bit of flour on her forehead appeared from the door and pushed her grinning friend inside. “I am so sorry sir. We are not usually this unprofessional it has just been quite the morning. It’s just me and her right now and she has a tendency to get a bit snarky, so hopefully she wasn’t too bad”, the woman, who Fred figured was Bailey, started to ramble.

“Oh not at all, she was an excellent saleswoman I’d say.”

“Well good. Now you apparently need to be recommended something to eat?”

Fred mostly zoned out on the conversation with Bailey although she seemed to be very passionate about baked goods, asking multiple questions which he tried to answer. Unfortunately his thoughts were quite focused on the worker who he had been talking with. 

After a lot longer than expected, he was finally returned to the shop, which was now full of customers and went to find George who seemed to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

“Thank god you’re here! Where did you go to get coffee? Ireland?” he asked as he took the cup of coffee and pastry bag with a simple pain au chocolate inside it.

“Found this new bakery with some interesting workers”, Fred chuckled.

“You can tell me about it later, ‘cause right now we have a shop full of customers and I cannot handle it by myself anymore!”

“Let’s get to work then!”

The next morning George entered their kitchen and figured he must still be dreaming. He had never seen Fred this cheerful on this time of day (Christmas as children didn’t count) without any coffee.

“What are you doing up already?”

“I figured since the coffee machine is still broken I’d go to that coffee shop again”, Fred explained. “This time a bit earlier so you don’t have to manage the shop all by yourself for as long.”

“So which one is it?”

“What?”

“Yesterday you told me there were two women working at that bakery so which one do you have a crush on?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I bet it’s the worker, not the owner. The one with flour all over her face.”

“I do not have a crush on either of them!”

“Oh please! You never wake up early and besides, if you didn’t have a crush you would’ve made me go get the coffee since you did it yesterday. So which one is it?”

“This is completely ridiculous. I’m going!” Fred declared and left to the shop.

“Get me another one of those pastries!” his brother yelled after him.

George smiled from the satisfaction of knowing he had hit the nail on the head. Fred on the other hand chose to ignore him. Sure he had thought that Y/N was funny, charming and she seemed to be a sight for sore eyes with and without the flour all over her face. 

He got further proof of this when he entered the shop and saw her ringing up a customer this time face clean. She had her hair in a slight updo away from her face and was smiling while she thanked the customer and handed them their pastry.

“Good morning again. Here for more coffee?” she asked.

“I am indeed. Two cups to go again, to be specific, please”, he replied and she got on with pouring the coffee. “And my brother found his pastry tasted like, and I quote, ‘it had cascaded down from heaven into his mouth’ so I have been asked to bring another one.”

“I’ll tell the baker her work was appreciated and get another one in a second. Would you like anything else?”

“I think I’m obligated to try this heavenly chocolate thing, since he didn’t give me any yesterday.”

“I’ll go get those for you”, she smiled and Fred couldn’t help, but notice how her smile seemed to light up her whole face.

Needless to say, the twins didn’t get a new coffee machine. George made fun of Fred for it quite a bit, but as long as he had his pain au chocolate there was no way he was going to actually complain. Fred kept on going there and talking with her while they waited for his pastries to get baked or while she was pouring him coffee was his favourite part of the day. He couldn’t help, but notice that even when she had other customers, although she joked around with them for a bit, she would always return to him and continue their conversation while she was done ringing them up or telling them to wait for their baked goods. This was all the encouragement he needed to ask her out and after a week of going there and talking with her every morning, he realized that there was no way he wasn’t going to do it So he walked to the bakery and smiled slightly when her face was once again full of flour.

“Morning Fred.”

“Bailey stressed again?” he smirked.

“Yep. There was some misunderstanding with the supplier and now we have 10 extra sacs of flour. I very politely asked if she would like me to get annoying again so she can throw it at me and looks like that was enough for her.”

“You seem like a very helpful worker.”

“Oh yes, I’m indeed excellent to have around. So the usual?”

“The usual.”

“Two mediocre coffees and two chocolate things coming right up.”

“You know, I meant to talk to you about that, because I have a complaint.”

“Really? Is it the flour throwing? Because unless we throw it at you I don’t think you have the right to complain.”

“No, I’m accusing you of false advertising.”

“Her name really is Bailey, if that’s what this is about. I’m sure I can find a way to get her to show you her birth certificate.”

“This is actually about the coffee. About how you keep advertising it as mediocre? I’ve come to the conclusion that your coffee is actually quite good and definitely deserves to be described as such instead of mediocre.”

“Seems as though you haven’t had really good coffee then. Ours is definitely good, but it’s still right in the middle of the scale. It’s very possible that you just haven’t had any coffee that’s on the better side.”

“Where does one even find that kind of coffee then?”

“The secret is little muggle coffee shops. They have the best coffee ever! I think it’s because they never use any magic to speed up the process or anything. Has a really authentic taste.”

Just as Fred was about to suggest that she could show him one of those places he heard a familiar voice behind them.

“Fred! I didn’t know you come here too!” Lee Jordan laughed.

“Hi Lee, actually just found this place a few days ago.”

“Hi Lee”, Y/N smiled form behind the counter. 

“Hi Y/N, can I get a cup of coffee and one of those strawberry pastries you have?” Lee ordered. “To go.”

“Of course, I’ll go get some. We might be out of the french chocolate things that I don’t know how to say the name of, but Bailey can whip them up pretty fast if you don’t mind waiting there”, she explained, addressing the last part to Fred.

“Don’t mind at all”, Fred said and she disappeared behind the door. 

He was just in the middle of catching up with Lee when she returned with Lee’s pastry and started pouring him coffee, which made him excuse himself to go talk to her.

Fred didn’t catch that much of their conversation, but he started listening more carefully when he realized Lee seemed to be explaining some sort of date. talking about dinner, a walk and stuff like that.

“So how does that sound?” he asked by the end of his explanation.

“Make it the nice little Italian place nearby and you’re good”, Y/N replied

Of course! Fred realized that the last time he was over, Lee had told the twins hew was kind of seeing someone, but wouldn’t tell them who. It must’ve been Y/N. Fred sighed at the lost opportunity to ask out the girl.

“Great!” he said and tried to hand her money, but she claimed it was on the house. 

A date and free coffee? Unfair. Fred thought again.

“And Lee?” she yelled after him as he was about to leave. “Three roses. Not one more and not one less.”

Fred nodded as she told him she’d go check in the back if his pastries were ready. And soon enough she came out with a bag and handed it to him along with the two coffees. He thanked her and walked away, still thinking about the missed opportunity.

Over the next few days he still kept going to the coffee shop, despite George reminding him they could always get a new one. He made sure he was being more careful, though, since he didn’t want to accidentally flirt with Lee’s girlfriend.

Y/N seemed to notice the change too. It wasn’t anything monumental and she only had a few previous encounters to compare it with, but the man was clearly being more reserved. He barely chatted with her while she was getting his coffee and she kept on wondering why. One afternoon, Y/N decided to take matters into her own hands. After she got off work, she ventured on to the streets of Diagon Alley and went to find the joke shop.

Y/N smiled as she saw the bright orange and purple store front and stepped in to find complete chaos inside. She found Fred standing around and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hi!” she grinned. The man looked at her, confused and it seemed like she didn’t recognize her. “Err...it’s Y/N? From the bakery? Just less flour in my face and no apron.”

“Ah I assume you’ve come to find my brother”

Brother? Y/N thought and then remembered. “Right! You’re twins! So you’re not Fred then?”

“It’s alright. I forget we’re identical sometimes too. Makes for scary mornings. Anyways I’m George. George Weasley, nice to meet you”, he extended his hand and she shook it. 

“Nice to meet you George, like I said I’m Y/N. Do you have any idea where Fred might be?”

“I’ll go get him. Wait here”, George grinned.

Y/N waited and looked around all the products. She grinned at how creative they were.

“You were looking for me?” Fred appeared behind her. 

“I was. I got off work and decided to stop by and see the shop for myself.”

“Well, does it match your expectations.”

“I don’t think anyone could expect this. In a good way. This is amazing!”

“Why thank you. Were you looking into buying anything here?”

“I actually came to ask you about something. I was thinking that maybe once you get off work I could take you to one of those muggle coffee shops and show you what actually good coffee tastes like?”

“Okay, hold on. Aren’t you dating Lee?”

“What? No, why would I be dating Lee?”

“The other day he was clearly asking you out. The Italian place? Three roses not one more not one less?”

“That? No, no you’ve got it all wrong. Lee’s dating my roommate and he was running his plan through me since he wanted to make the date special and I know her pretty well.”

“So he took your roommate to the Italian place and gave her the three roses?”

“Yep, I’ve never been a fan roses anyway”, Y/N smiled. “But I do like Italian food.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to take you to that place sometime.”

“I’ve already asked you out to coffee, you can’t ask me out during the same day”, she laughed.

“Can’t blame a man for trying.”

“You still haven’t answered me about the coffee, you know.”

“I figured asking you out on a date means that I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you.”

“So what time do you get off?”

“Right now”, George replied cheerfully. 

“Were you eavesdropping?” Fred asked.

“No, I just happened to be stacking shelves over there and couldn’t help, but to hear some flirting. You can go, I’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks, Geore. Why don’t you lead the way?” he said, addressing the last part to Y/N, who didn’t hesitate in taking his hand and leading him outside.