#this is me trying to figure out if the pattern is actually incredibly large or if cross stitchers are just superhuman

[hes-a-plant]

Those of y’all that cross stitch, how many hours did your last project take you, and what was the stitch count?

I’m curious how it compares to other crafts, I never got the hang of cross stitch so I’m very slow at it.

[partycatty]

Hear me out bi han with a figure skating reader?..

YAS i actually have two other requests for the same thing! u guys r so cute i love ur lil ideas :))

bi-han > foolish

how it goes when you're an elegant skater and he's a stoic ninja!

warnings: u almost die, controversial bi-han character writing?

notes: this reads like a barbie movie it's a little corny, also i imagine his frost/ice shoots out like elsa LMFAO like all beautiful n shit when he's not trying to spear someone w an icicle

masterlist <3

•when i say bi-han is absolutely horrible at verbalizing his romantic thoughts, i promise with my entire being that i mean it.

•so it comes to nobody's surprise when all bi-han can do is watch you as you glide across the ice like a gorgeous fairy, eyes closed and completely encapsulated in the movement. he was supposed to be scouring the land for raiden and kung lao to confirm their whereabouts, but he stopped when he heard your pretty humming and scraping of ice. all he could do was stand atop a roof and observe you quietly, suddenly feeling a little warm, which was completely out of character for the cryomancer.

•your skates were handmade and your movements weren't professional. you learned through VHS tapes and magazines growing up, and you wanted nothing more than to leave fengjian and make it big in the olympics.

•each time he returns to fengjian to spy on the farmers and report back to liu kang, he's sure to stray from the path when nobody is looking, and checks on the frozen pond to see if you're skating. something about it entrances him. perhaps it's because he uses his ice for dominance and strength, while you submit your entire life to the deadly pond in such a beautiful display of grace.

•it takes him several visits to actually approach you, and it was entirely unintentional. you had actually fallen into a thin patch of ice, your leg trapped in a jagged part and effectively sucking your leg into the freezing water. he leapt from the rooftop and revealed himself to you. while he may not be the best at encouraging words, he's great at barking commands. so, in his all-ice-knowing voice, he tells you how to save yourself step by step, since you seemed entirely clueless about this incredibly important survival skill.

•your nerves got the better of you as you cry out and squirm, and the ice cracked even more. bi-han let out a growl of frustration with the situation before stomping across the ice to you. you wanted to shout out and tell him to stand back or he'd make it worse, but the words get caught in your throat when, with each step, his footsteps spawned large swirling waves of frosty ice, effectively repairing the cracks around you.

•bi-han doesn't outstretch an arm, he just stands menacingly - and silently - over you as you whimper in pain. saving yourself, you use his thick arm as leverage and hoist yourself out of the water, and he barely flinches at your soggy weight.

•"you... you did that," you say incredulously and out of breath, pointing at the intricate patterns along the ice top. bi-han's eyes follow your point and he exhales before turning back to you. "with the ice... how?"

•"you were foolish," he replies coldly, though you sense a morbidly caring tone in his voice. "stay near the shore. you'll lose that leg if you're not careful. no more skating then."

•your hand is on his chest as you regain your balance, and your eyes fall to the emblem on his uniform.

•"how did you know i was skating?" you ask, with a smirk teasing your lips. bi-han tenses up at your question, looking away momentarily. he would literally rather die than admit he was staring at you, and you sense that, so you move back to the emblem.

•"you are in a clan," you mutter, reaching to trace it. "what are ninjas doing in fengjian?"

•instinctively, he snatches up your wrist and holds it in the air, warning you silently not to touch it. but even so, bi-han's lips part for a moment, his eagerness to speak to you overtaking his stoicism. he covers his mouth and furrows his brows. something about your gentleness, your kindness, causes him to desire to match it. your sweet eyes looking into his, you tilt your head and he nearly collapses.

•he decides not to answer your question, and you assume whatever it is is a private matter. perhaps the whispers in madam bo's restaurant might offer an explanation later.

•"well... thank you," you thank him gently, with your arm still in his grip. it's evident that... he doesn't scare you. in fact, you're fascinated by this man. everyone knows everyone, so who could this big yummy scoop of ice cream be??

•"don't thank me yet," he replies, eyes looking down at the ice and back to the shore. "with me. come."

•you do an awkward combination of skating and walking beside bi-han as he leads you back to the snowy shore. his hand rests on your back, full palm taking up a great amount of space on your back. you shudder at the thought.

•"may i thank you now?" you ask with gentle playfulness, smiling up at the ninja before bowing out of respect. "you saved my life, sir. the least you can do is tell me your name."

•"bi-han," he finally replies, his lips in a firm line. "don't make me save you again. be smart. be vigilant."

•his lecture halts when he hears his brothers call for his name in the echoey distance. he shares one last glance with you before walking off into the village alleys, and you're utterly dumbfounded. did that actually happen, or was that a weird hypothermic hallucination? do those even happen?

•before the lin kuei end their exploration of your village, bi-han decides to leave one last lesson for you at your doorstep. how he even knew where you lived baffled you. but, the uneasiness went away when you opened the hastily put together box, and see a brand new pair of ice skates, the blades frosted with the same beautiful pattern you saw on the ice that day.

•never again did you get near the thin points of the icy pond. and, every winter after that, you can't help but feel a pair of eyes on you in the distance as you improve your flips and pivots using your gorgeous skates. and you're pretty sure the lin kuei's business in the village ended quite some time ago...

[a-whispering-echo]

hello. below is me rambling about my new au - the ancient city one - and what i have down for it all right now. its just me rambling, and i tend to talk like im actually TELLING people about my ideas? like im sitting across from someone explaining it, and i try to imagine im speaking to someone who knows nothing about the sanses to try and like, GRIP the characters right, yknow? so yeah - lol

uh gore warning ig? its only descriptions for now, but i WILL be drawing them at some point!

oh yeah its bsp too lol

Story starts with Cross, who was disowned by his father after the death of his brother, which happened slightly after a very large argument between Cross and said brother. this is set in an old-ish setting. not quite modern day, not quite old timey. more fantasy set time - anyway yeah, Cross gets kicked out and shamed . oh hes human too here, you'll see later-

Cross is supposed to read as slightly unlikable, not fully, but with enough character flaws to balance out his good traits. Hes cold, very ambitious, but quite selfish too. he finds it hard to put himself in others shoes, and is focused, at first, in his own self interest. at the same time, he can be incredibly sweet, and self sacrificing when he wants to be. a hero truly. hes adaptable, and strong willed, even if he can sometimes break down in an anxious mess.

Cus Cross has been disowned, he decides to set out on his own path, alone, with not much on his other than his own survival skills - as all men from his town are trained for war and go through mandatory service, as he decides to treck and explore the world, figuring maybe, if he was luckily, he'd find a NEW home and family..

Eventually, one night, Cross is attacked by wolved while out setting up camp for the night. they destroy everything he'd worked for, and would him near fatally,

One of the wolves got a bit to his head, biting right into his right eye, leaving an awful bite mark over it that forces his eye shut forever. he isnt TECNICALLY blind, but he cant really open it without massive pain, ( it will eventually get infected and need to be removed. but thats WAYY in the future.)

Cross in his mad bid for safety, managed to scale a slight cliff edge, and find a very tight cave on a said cliff edge, managing to climb up over this ledge covered in lichen and algae, and sneaking into the gap that the wolves cannot reach. unfortunately, Cross wasnt expecting the drop.

When Cross wakes up, hes in what can only be described as the ruins of an old settlement, a… city? he thinks? the stone buildings are all destroyed, looking like a bomb has gone off through it, the stone in rubble, but miraculously, there are these glowing blue lanterns handing off posts that make up bridges connecting the little 'islands' of rubble to another in a pattern, those lanterns dim, but glowing faintly enough he can see his way… hes lying in a small pond, or a well or somthing, glowing blue algae covering the water, and HIM by extension, the water cold and soaking him to the bone.

What the hell happened here?

its as Cross is trying to right himself and fugure out where the HELL he is that he sees three figure in the distance...

They move, they walk, but theyre… theyre skeletons...

.... mostly. a couple of them look like they have a LITTLE flesh covering them, but its all mouldy and rotten. theres three of them, and all of them are dressed in dark robes, and covered in that ALGAE-lichen stuff, all that glowing cyan and black colour, spreading over their limbs like a plague. they seem all slightly confused on Cross entering their domain, the shortest one looks at his suspiciously under their cowl, and the tallest, with his awful head wound, pokes and prods at Cross and his broken body with fascination. the other one, with pitch black oozing eye sockets, seems FACINATED with him, excited even, theyre rubbing up against Cross like a cat and getting that black/cyan stuff all over him, Cross to scared and in pain to push it away from him

are they… inhabitants of the past settlement, maybe?

Turns out they can, mostly, speak english. they speak with an accent like no other, one Cross cant place, and use what Cross can only describe as odd and outdated words sometimes, but they seem to be able to understand him, at least. and they understand hes hurt, and needs help..

theyre kinda… well, theyre creepy as shit, no doubt bout it, but theyre not… TRYING to be? theyre curious and weird and a bit gross, but theyre almost CAT like? they purr, they nuzzle, they even fucking SNIFF him at first, and dunk his head under the water when they find his scent distressing. - thats Killer to note - they have fucking TAILS - he sees them when Goopy turns to chirp at his friends-

theyre in different states of decay… though the flesh they DO have is little, and covered by that lichen stuff holding it to their bones like stitches, theyre not ACTIVLY rotting anymore? nor do they really smell?

The smallest one seems to speak for them, not really out of any leadership, but because Goopy doesnt seem to really understand, and Head Wound seems to only make rumbling chirping noises - they ALL make those noises, but… Scarf seems to understand him best, even it they CLEARLY dont trust Cross…

they work for their Master, and lover, a Creature named Nightmare. a being made from that black/cyan stuff, and the one who destroyed this previous kingdom entirely, killing all residents

well all, bar three? are.. well, are they dead or..?

Killer mostly moves on all fours, close to the ground, almost like a spider. he CAN stand upright, but its painful for him, and hes quicker lower to the floor. Dust is the shortest and has these glowing red spots that act like pupils in his eyes, one of them corrupted by the cyan stuff. Horror has an actual EYEBALL still in his left socket - the side with the big wound - while the other is empty. Dust is the least 'decomposed' and still has slight bits of pale tinged-purple-blue skin held to his bones with the algae stuff, but he seems to try and hide it under his layers of clothes. both Killer and Horror have claws, while Dust has his filled down and softer, though still SHARP! Killer is much more intelligent than he appears.

all three of the skeletons used to be human! theyre of a different race to any Cross would know, and mostly lived in caves and hollowed out mountains - theyre usually small people - Horror being what the kingdom would call 'a giant', with a range of skin tones but most being a soft brown, and hair that stems from black to dark red and oranges - they mostly all have dark eyes better suited to dark environment, and good senses

Dust is the most 'intelligent' of the three, seemingly knowing an array of languages and seems to know how to heal. Killer has spikes and bone shards and teeth sticking from his clothes and has a dagger attached to his belt - maybe some kind of warrior? Horror carries a spear with him that he leans on as he walks. he seems to be able to walk fine without it, but uses it almost as a cane - maybe a pain condition over physically not being able to move? with the head wound.. well, does that even MATTER anymore?

Anyways, yeah, noot noot-

Nightmare used to be a spirit of protecting for the city, until a disagreement with his Other Half, quite literally, his twin brother Dream - two beings born of the same soul, which caused Nightmare to corrupt.

Nightmare doesnt show up until at LEAST halfway through the story!

this story will eventually conclude with Cross joining them, and them all falling in love, Cross getting the answers he wants about them, and getting his FAMILY that he desperately craves.

im still working on this obs, but im gonna be doing some drawings of them not lol - obviously theres gonna be a bit of a gore warning -

[ask-the-royal-absol]

*It was finally time to head out of the place that Destino called home and up to the surface. Destino, behind the smug confidence they wore a lot, was secretly terrified. All their life, they had been told the surface was dangerous, that Pokémon would attack them the moment they saw them. It had been hammered into them from a very young age. How would the surface Pokémon react to them? Sure, they had the Leafeon illusion for some protection. But as Mistress Mirage said, it wouldn’t last forever.

However, there was a small part of them that was excited for the prospect. When Destino was younger, they had read about the stars, gorgeous balls of gas that delicately twinkled in the sky at night, creating patterns of different Pokémon. It was probably a small thing to get excited over but Destino had always wanted to see them. The sparkling evolutionary ores that were fixed to the large ceiling of the Underdark didn’t quite have the same magical feeling that stars seemed to have in books.

With a confident swagger, Destino made they way over to Hope, still in the cell. Felix floated behind. Destino figured Hope would have stepped through the hole she had made in the bars but perhaps she was waiting for a signal to go.

“Well,” Destino began, not letting any worry slip through, ”shall we be off then? As much as I really don’t want to use my effort to go and save the world, I suppose it’ll have to be done, right Hopey?”

Hopey? This Absol was beyond frustrating. At least they were finally going to be out of this shit hole. She was surprised the Pokémon that lived down here survived. She had been told many stories of the Underdark by her father. How, regardless of the lack of resources they had, they were able to live with what they had. How it was so dark, you couldn’t see your own claws in front of your face. She was honestly quite impressed by the creativity and endurance of the Pokémon down here, considering how long they had survived in this place. At least they had one thing that was beautiful among all of this darkness.

The ores that hung from the ceiling and walls. When Hope was trying to find Destino whilst in her disguise, she noticed it from the overhanging balcony. It was truly beautiful. The giant sunstone in the centre glowed a brilliant light that allowed the other evolutionary stones scattered around to sparkle. The heat it exuded was quite pleasant. Not as good as the actual sun but it did its job incredibly well. She was transfixed by it when she first saw it. Marvelled at its beauty. She imagined that if this wasn’t a home for the banished Pokémon, this would be a beautiful spot for pokemon to come and see.

Snapping back to the current conversation, Hope spoke, mild frustration present in her voice, “Yes, we should have been off hours ago but with your constant messing around, we’re far behind where I wanted us to be.”

“Hopey Hopey. You’ve gotta understand that I could not go up there looking like I have been. As much as I am perfect, it would appear that other Pokémon may not see me as so up there. Which is honestly ridiculous if you ask me. So you see, I’ve got a new trick. Dunno if you know but dark types can create illusions. Allow me to demonstrate.“ Destino concentrated on that same feeling from before, focusing all of that power they were given in their core to wash over their body. Their body shifted into their Leafeon disguise and Destino stuck a pose.

Hope was actually quite amazed by this entire process. Destino had fully transformed themselves into a Leafeon. Well, it wasn’t quite the same as a regular Leafeon but it would pass. “Huh, guess they were actually doing something useful this whole time,” she thought. It was interesting what Destino had said. Dark types can create illusions. It seems they could transform themselves using it but how far could the illusions go? Could they transform other objects? Other Pokémon? Was this the aura technique that dark types could use? She’d have to probe them for questions later.

“Of course it’s not as glorious as my true form but I don’t think anything really could be.” Destino transformed back into their usual Absol self. They took a step back to allow for Hope to step out. Hope, seeing this, left the cell, standing in front of Destino. It was quite funny how she towered over the small Absol. The transformation thing did spark a question.

“Hey Felix?”

The ghost type turned towards Hope. “Yeah?”

“You mentioned you were going to join us on our journey. Destino has a disguise but what about yourself? Ghost types don’t have the best reputation up there either.”

Felix had already thought this through when he’d planned on joining Destino. “Ya see, much like dark type can do the stuff with illusions, ghost types have a lot of other things we can do. We can hide inside objects.” To demonstrate, he floated towards one of the cell bars, his body merging with it. The bar turned a slight shade of purple when it happened. Hope’s eyes widened. These Pokémon down here had some really interesting abilities. She was sure this must also be a part of a ghost type’s aura abilities. She’d seen the ghost type floating in the air and phasing through solid object, so it did make sense that they could hide in things too. “It’s pretty easy for me ta do.”

“That’s actually really cool, Felix. Mind if I ask you some questions about your abilities later on?”

“Sure ya can. I doubt ya’d be able ta do somethin’ like that as it seems only ghost types have these abilities.” Felix couldn’t help but blush. He’d never been told his ghost type abilities were cool.

“I’d still be eager to learn more about it. Pokémon are able to do some incredible things on the surface but not anything as awesome as that.”

“Alright alright,” Destino interjected, “As much as Felix has some “cool” powers, they’re just not the same as making yourself look like another Pokémon. Let’s head off before this conversation bores me any further.”

“Yes, you’re right. We should probably-“ Hope was cut off by the sound of footsteps on the stony stairs ahead of them. Two figures rushed down, blocking their path to the stairs. Felix began to sweat. This was bad. Destino, one the other hand, was annoyed at the sudden appearance of these two.

[pomrania]

Hello! You mentioned in the replies to a post yesterday that you've crocheted your own wizard hats so I was wondering if there was a particular pattern you might recommend?

I've been designing my own stuff. I can't give you a PATTERN, but I can describe how I do it; you'll need to work out all the numbers yourself. I genuinely mean that; the numbers depend not only on your gauge, but the size of the head and how large you want the thing.

The base concept is simple. Working in the round, you make a cone; then once the cone is a proper size to fit on the head, widen it out so that it starts being like a circle instead.

For me, I have it that in the 'hat' bit, I increase by three stitches, every other round; that gives a slope I prefer. Then when I get to the 'brim' part, I start increasing by six stitches every round.

(There's also a second piece to my wizard hats, for making the brim less floppy. I do something in like a 'ring' or 'donut' shape, the same size as the brim; and then I attach that piece to the brim, so it's a bit stiffer. This, or any other support, is less necessary the smaller the brim, because gravity; and I suppose there's other ways of making a brim not droop so much, but I can't speak to them because I've never done those.)

The tricky bit, the part that's going to have you swearing until you figure it out, is 'getting the numbers right so the hat actually fits properly'. Unless you're lucky enough that your first guess is accurate, you'll try the hat on and it'll be too small to fit, or too large, and you'll have to undo a bunch of work and either keep doing the 'cone' bit for longer, or start on the brim sooner. Even if you've taken measurements and done the math for it, you might find out that it's not quite comfortable, so you have to adjust it if you don't want to dread wearing it.

Also, these things take a while to make. My most recent hat, I finished it in [time redacted because I don't want people to get the wrong impression], but that's because I'm insane and also stayed up too late working on it. At a sensible rate, it'd be a couple weeks. Thankfully though, aside from "figuring out where exactly to start working on the brim" (and that's only tricky until you've got it worked out; after that, you can just use the numbers you'd discovered), it's incredibly basic stuff to do, so it's safe to engage autopilot for most of it.

Hope that explains things; if something doesn't make sense, or if you've further questions, just ask me about it.

[theundertalenebulartheory]

Deleted Post Ch.17 Scene (Kindof NSFW but not really)

So, uh, if you read Chapter 17 then you know that uh... things did not exactly end on a happy note. And you can probably guess that Frisk is going to take us further back in time now to see if they can fix the disaster that happened there. BUT while I was struggling to write Chapter 17 and couldn't quite figure out where I was going with it I started a Post-17-But-Still-In-The-Same-Timeline thing.

Got halfway through it.

Got inspiration for Ch. 17

Wrote Ch. 17 and realized that uhhh.... now the stuff I'd written was kindof... not going to work anymore largely due to the fact that there is no more Timeline #144 so...

Now it's a Deleted Scene that maybe possibly I will reuse later??? Idk though. We'll see how the scene changes play out and timeline changes work out. For now, I finished writing the Schmutz for funzies. BUT if you have any commentary to add that you feel might be helpful in allowing me to navigate the Aro/Ace experience this might be a good space for me to workshop some stuff before it goes in the fic.

Thank and Enjoy~

You were already looking up at the top of the stairs from the kitchen table when Papyrus appeared, chopstick in your hand shoved down into the cast covering your forearm. “Doc said it was allowed,” you started, a bit defensive, but Papyrus just shook his head at you and padded quickly down the stairs.

“I Know.” You blinked at the soft tone, surprised, but to be fair it was pretty late at night. “Can You Not Sleep?”

“No. Painkillers wore off a while ago and the thing has been itching like crazy. I know it’s still pretty fresh, but I’m being careful.”

“Your Battle Wound Is Very Impressive. A Monster With A Similar Injury Would Have Turned To Dust. But In Only A Few Weeks, You Will Be As Good As You Were Before Monday. Humans Are Truly Impressive Warriors.” He nodded and sat across from you, twiddling his fingers. Your lips quirked into a wry smile at how he was already fidgeting after only just sitting down. Usually he could sit still for a few minutes at least before getting twitchy, but he seemed a little extra agitated tonight.

Not that you blamed him.

“I’m not sure I’d call that impressive so much as ‘batshit insane.’ But to be fair, it did work.”

He gasped, a little more loudly than was maybe appropriate for 11:30 at night, but seemed cowed at your wince and returned his voice to a reasonable volume. “You Were Amazing! Such Power! Such Passion! And When You Called For Me To Throw You A Bone And Then You Actually Caught It! You Were On Fire! Almost Literally, But Also Metaphorically!”

You groaned and rubbed your forehead, leaving the chopstick stuck in your cast. “Sans is never going to let me live down the fact that I actually said ‘bone me’ in public. I am so, so glad you knew what I meant.”

“I Assumed In The Middle Of A Riot Would Be A Terribly Inappropriate Time For The Kind Of Boning That Sans Usually Means When He Is Teasing, And I Too Am Glad That My Assumption Proved To Be Correct.” He nodded, squirming in his chair, but covered it up with a flourish of his hands. “Actually, You Have Been Dazzling Me A Lot Recently With Your Incredible Spirit And Enthusiasm! Like When We Were Training The Other Day And You Pinned Me Against The Tree. I… It Was… You were…”

“You can say “cringe,” homie. I won’t be offended.” You grinned and winked at him, a soft blush staining your cheeks. Papyrus, on the other hand, gasped again and jumped to his feet.

“Never! I Haven’t Been Able To Sleep A Wink Since That Moment! It Keeps Replaying In My Mind, Over And Over Again.”

You winced, finally pulling the chopstick out of your cast, and slumped in your seat with an apologetic frown. “Pup, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You felt my… intent, right? I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I swear. You just kept leaving openings in your attack patterns. I just wanted to make sure you knew that this was serious. That you could really get hurt if you let someone get through your pattern. I know it seems unfair and unsportsmanlike but you SAW what it was like on Monday. Right? You saw how close we were to losing Undyne.”

You rubbed your sternum, feeling the thread of connection pulling straight out of your chest towards Papyrus and the two threads pulling up towards the second floor. Confirmation that you had done something initially. But the moment with Undyne had been so scary, so intense. Nothing like that had happened with Papyrus or Sans. You were happy to have walked away from that (uhh… metaphorically speaking. You definitely had not actually walked away under your own power that day after everything that had happened) event with just a broken arm and a soul that was slow regaining color and opacity but now you had even more questions than answers about the entire… well… everything.

Papyrus firmly shook his head. “No. No, No. On The Contrary, I Find Myself Inspired! I Did Feel Your Intent. Your Passion. I Felt Your Soul Blaze Within You. The Energy In Your Eyes As You Pressed My Own Magic Against My Throat. Your Hips Immobilizing Me.” Your cheeks burned and you had to use your remaining good hand to cover your embarrassed groan. “I Felt Your Intent. I… Want To Feel That Intent Again.”

You peeked up at him through your fingers and squeaked in surprise when you found he’d moved himself right next to your chair, his face almost touching yours as he bent over to try to catch your eyes. “Wagh! Bro.” You pushed him back a little and fanned your face to try to get some of the furious blush to calm down. “Uh… listen. I’m flattered. Honestly. But the last time I tried to, like… be sweet about our weird soul-connection thing, you literally ran away. I’m not gonna lie, that sends some mixed signals. I’m going to need you to tell me in no uncertain terms how you see this working out. And, honestly, I kindof feel like Sans should be here for some of that because he’s kindof involved with this whole thing. And I don’t really know how you want, ideally, our whole… thing… to pan out. In a perfect world, how do you see our situation going forward?” 

“Oh! Well That Is Very Easy. You See, Sans Is A Romantic. And I Am Aromantic! But That Is Okay Because You Are Also A Romantic. So You Can Be Sweet And Romantic With Him And You Can Be Passionate With Me! Sans Is Much Too Lazy For Such Feats Of Passion And Would Not Be Interested In Them Anyways,” he shrugged, “So We Can All Be One Big Happy Family Together Because We Can Share With Each Other The Things We Like The Most! Everyone Wins! It Is A Win-Win-Win Situation! Which Is Even Better Than The Win-Win Situations Most People Aim For! The Great Papyrus Excels At All Things! Even Relationships!”

You kneaded your forehead. “Right. Figures. So… just to make sure I’m understanding you correctly. P L E A S E correct me if I am wrong. You are aromantic, and Sans is asexual? So you don’t want anything romantic ever? And he doesn’t want anything sexual ever? And you would be ok with sharing because you want opposite things?”

“Well, No, You See… Because It Is About Intent!” Papyrus nodded again and sat down once more at his seat. “Sans Is Not So Much Interested In Passionate Intent. And I Am Not So Much Interested In Romantic Intent! One Can Participate In A Large Variety Of Activities With Passionate Intent! And One Can Participate In A Large Variety Of Activities With Romantic Intent! It Is Very Simple.”

You blinked at him and shifted your hand down to press over your mouth. You really needed to keep it shut for a moment or two. You’d suspected, when Sans had explained why Papyrus had run off all those weeks ago, the aromantic/asexual dichotomy between the two of them. There were just too many things they were complete opposites about. Too many things they were identical about. You were starting to suspect that somehow… somehow the two of them were connected in some way. Literally. Like your soul connection. They were two sides of the same coin in the most literal way you’d ever witnessed. And when you’d considered the possibility of one having been given the appetite for one thing and the other having the appetite for the other, that maybe there was a chance they’d want to share in a way that would allow a partner to be able to keep the two activities separate. Having two people with opposite needs set up a bit of a balance that you’d wondered if you could maintain.

This, though… kindof threw a monkey-wrench into the works. Those needs were less cut-and-dry than you’d been thinking they were and that added an element of complexity you weren’t sure you could juggle without breaking things.

“Uhhhhh… … what.”

“Oh, Did You Not Hear Me? I Said-”

“I heard…” You rubbed your forehead again. “I’m just… processing. So… Ok. Uh. Hm. That’s… uh… great? It’s great. I’m happy to hear that. Thank you for telling me.”

You were starting to regret not having taken your pain meds on time. They might have helped with the headache you were going to give yourself trying to figure out what this was going to mean for your house full of monsters. “Are You Sure? Because You Do Not Look Like You Are Very Happy To Hear That.”

You put your hand down on the table and sighed, then smiled more genuinely. “Sorry. I am. I really am. I’m grateful that you trust me enough to tell me that. It takes a lot of courage and bravery to be honest about who you are and what your boundaries are. I promise I intend to respect them. I’m just thinking. I told you guys that I could be cool about the soul-connections because I didn’t want to ruin anything happening between us. I love you both. I don’t… I need to be able to hear from Sans too.”

“OH! Well That Is Also Very Easy! I Will Fetch Him Immediately!”

“Papyrus don’t you dare! If he’s asleep…”

It was a little too late, now that Papyrus had made it up the stairs in two great bounds and disappeared into the dark of the house. You groaned miserably and grabbed your bottle of pain meds by the sink, taking the dose you should have taken four hours ago with a quick gulp from the cup you’d been nursing at the table. As you pulled your cup away from your face you felt the tension on your connection grow slack and all at once Papyrus was setting a bleary-eyed Sans on his feet in front of you. “mmwherezafire?”

“Oh, geez, sorry. I didn’t mean for him to go get you right now. Sorry. Come here…” You scooped him up and started carrying him down the stairs to the couch you’d been sleeping on with a jerk of your head aimed at Papyrus. Sans started to protest a little, but gave up as soon as you had him snugly tucked against you and you dropped a little kiss on the side of his head.

“mm. you know just when i need a good pick-me-up. heh.”

“You too, Pap. We don’t need to wake up the whole house.”

You lead Pap down the stairs and plopped on the couch, shifting Sans around a little so you could snuggle him more easily while sitting. Papyrus was more than happy to sprawl out on the floor at your feet, posture much more relaxed now that he didn’t have to keep himself contained to a chair. You had half a mind to pull the blanket up over Sans since Pap pulled him out of bed but after reaching for it with your broken arm and wincing at the stinging throb of your still-barely-touching bones protesting, you decided the snuggle was fine how it was.

“So… Pap and I were just talking about… uh… things.”

“We were discussing our sexual preferences!” Papyrus offered helpfully, a matching set of blushes erupting over your face and Sans’ face at the same moment.

“Yep. Thanks bud.”

“uh… can i go back upstairs, please?”

“No.” You kissed the top of his head again. “You said you wanted us all to get to know each other better and that means uncomfortable conversations. I can use one of my 14 questions if you want.”

Sans groaned miserably in your lap and tossed an arm over his eyes so he didn’t have to face what was coming. “do i have to?”

“Yep. No Take-Backs. If you were going to regret this you had two weeks to change your mind! How’s being snuggled and smooched all the time going for you, by the way?”

“heh…” He shifted his arm just enough to peek up at you with a shy dusting of light blue over his cheekbones and the corners of his eye sockets crinkling. “it’s fine.”

“Good. Now. Uh… there’s not really any delicate way to say this without it being at least a little awkward so I’ll just be blunt. I love both of you guys, and now that we’re being more honest about ourselves it’s probably about time I tell you both that I’ll do literally anything for you. Including NOT talking about my more-than-just-friends feelings I have for you. I want both of you to be happy. I want both of you to have everything you could ever want. And that includes any amount of physical affection you might want or need. But I don’t want any amount of relationship furthering to make anyone else upset. You were weirdly onboard with me having a soul connection to both you and Papyrus, which is a whole other thing I want to ask you about. But for now I need to know how you feel about sharing more than just platonic affection between the two of you. What are you comfortable with? What are you uncomfortable with? What about me and my relationship are you ok with sharing with Papyrus and what are you not ok with me sharing with Papyrus?”

“hoo boy. uh. ok. let’s see… that’s… one, two, three, four…”

You snorted and flicked his chin, making him snicker. “Alright, wise guy. I’ll summarize all that in one question like I did with Pap just a minute ago. In a perfect world, how would you like to see our relationship threesome progress and develop?” Sans wheezed at the phrasing and you rolled your eyes at him with red cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I said ‘threesome.’ Would you prefer the word ‘throuple?’”

He wheezed even harder, blushing a nearly neon blue and rolling out of your grip. “can’t sit on your lap while you say that,” he giggled, sprawling out on the floor at your feet.

“I PREFER THE TERM ‘TRIO’ MYSELF! THOUGH I HAVE RECENTLY BEEN INTRODUCED TO SOME VIDEO GAMES AND THE TERM TRIFORCE MIGHT BE APPROPRIATE TOO!”

“Oh, I’m about to ‘triforce’ something, alright.”

Sans snorted before bursting out laughing harder, making you grab your blanket with your good arm and toss it at his head with an emphatic shush. The blanket helped to muffle his giggling, and you couldn’t help but snicker at just how contagious his laugh was. When they finally settled down you yoinked the blanket off of him and nudged him with your foot. “Alright, come on. Perfect world. Relationship including yourself, myself, and Pap’s self. How does that go down in a perfect world for you?”

“Uh, woah, hey. Uh… Pap… got to answer first, right? Uh. Bro. Pal. You wanna… share with the, uh, class? What’d I miss?”

Papyrus nodded and sat up stick-straight, one hand on his chest as he repeated himself for Sans. “I SIMPLY SAID THAT YOU ARE A ROMANTIC. AND I AM AROMANTIC! SO YOU CAN BE SWEET AND ROMANTIC WITH OUR HUMAN, WHICH IS TO SAY THAT THE TWO OF YOU CAN SHARE A WHOLE HOST OF ACTIVITIES THAT HAVE ROMANTIC INTENT BEHIND THEM, AND I CAN BE PASSIONATE WITH OUR HUMAN, WHICH IS TO SAY THAT I WOULD LIKE VERY MUCH TO SHARE IN A HOST OF ACTIVITIES THAT HAVE PASSIONATE INTENTIONS! WE CAN ALL BE ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY TOGETHER BECAUSE WE CAN SHARE WITH EACH OTHER THE THINGS WE LIKE THE MOST!”

Sans blinked at him and rolled his head to the side to grin at you with a wink. “well, there you go. couldn’t have said it better myself.”

You rubbed your face. “Ok. But like… making out. Sex. Like I get the whole ‘intent’ thing but I need you people to be painfully explicit with me here. If I kiss one or both of you, will either of you be upset about it? If I jump Papyrus will you be hurt or upset?”

Sans shrugged, though with the blush creeping up his neck and the squint to his eye sockets it might have been more of a cringe. “uh… i mean… no? i don’t think so. if you start to pick favorites it might suck. but as far as jealousy? that stuff? nah.”

You raised an eyebrow at Papyrus and gestured with a twirl of your hand for him to continue the conversation. “Pap? Hurt? Angry if I make out with Sans or spend the night with him? Jealous?”

“ABSO-POSITIVELY-LUTELY NOT! SO LONG AS WE ARE BEING VERY HONEST ABOUT OUR FEELINGS AND TALKING ABOUT OUR NEEDS! IF I AM FEELING LIKE SANS IS GETTING A LOT OF KISSES AND CUDDLES AND I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE A TURN BEING SHOWERED IN KISSES TOO, WILL YOU BE UPSET IF I TELL YOU?”

You shook your head, feeling maybe a little overwhelmed by the idea of trying to keep up with both of their needs. But to be fair, neither of them had been exactly what you would call ‘needy’ individuals to begin with. So maybe… maybe something like this could work out? “Of course not. You’re my boys. As long as you’re ok with sharing and nobody’s feeling betrayed or anything.”

“so… perfect world for you?” Sans grinned and winked. “can’t ask if you can’t answer.”

You sighed and leaned your elbows on your knees. Where to even start with that kind of question? WAS there really such a thing as a perfect world scenario? Could you really even hope for such a thing in a way that didn’t sound totally selfish? “Honestly, it’s honesty. Cheesy as that might sound. In a perfect world, we’d trust each other enough to say what we feel and when our feelings change, we can be honest with each other about it. I’m not stupid enough to try to paint some pretty picture of us all holding hands skipping through a field of flowers together as the ideal ‘perfect’ image I have in my head. You guys mean everything to me. In a perfect world, I… will never have to say goodbye forever to you guys. You’ll be in my life in some way for as long as I’m still around. And after this,” you held your broken arm up and wiggled it a little with a smirk, “I’m not sure how long that will be. But that includes the possibility that maybe we try this ‘trio’ thing and figure out that it doesn’t work. Maybe we find out that it does. But either way, I just would ask that even if it feels dumb or trivial, please be honest about how you’re feeling.”

“A NOBLE AND PRACTICAL REQUEST!” Papyrus nodded, shifting to his knees so he could stretch over and hug you around the middle. “I DO!”

You choked and wheezed, hugging him back with barely restrained tears of laughter stinging the corners of your eyes and your tone pitched a little higher than usual. “Thanks buddy.”

Sans snickered a little too, rolling over to join the hug with a wink that sparkled with humor. He murmured softly in your ear, his own voice pitched a little lower than usual in contrast to your own, “i do, too.”

A strangled noise of embarrassment squeezed out of your throat and your face erupted into a bright red blush. You were positive that steam was pouring out of your ears as you squeezed your boys with a soft squeal. Sans chuckled, nuzzling into your neck at the feeling of your pulse hammering against his teeth. Not quite content with this level of embarrassment, he went for the kill shot.

“who knows. maybe you’ll get your threesome after all.”

You stood straight up, jostling your boys, now a permanent cherry red. “AAAAAAAND now I need to go for a six mile run loveyouthanksbye!”

Sans cackled from behind you on the couch while Papyrus jumped to his feet as well. “OH, I SHALL JOIN YOU! THERE IS NOTHING LIKE AN INVIGORATING RUN THROUGH A QUIET NEIGHBORHOOD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!”

“you guys have fun. im going back to bed. i heard sleep is great for your complexion.”

You glared at him from over your shoulder, still painfully beet red as he winked and rolled off the couch, vanishing through a shortcut. Your line of connection almost clicked in your chest with how immediate the jump from behind to above went, and it ached just a little this time. If you had to guess, it probably had something to do with your still-recovering soul and the small amount of magic energy it had. Maintaining three threads of connection wasn’t the most draining thing in the world, but it did require energy. And when one of those thread sources kept slipping through cracks in spacetime, that HAD to require some additional energy to keep up with.

Probably.

This was all still pretty new so you were just spitballing, but that seemed reasonable enough to use as an explanation for some of the unusually weird things you had been experiencing since Monday.

“WELL? SHALL WE?”

You blinked at Papyrus, some of your blush cooling down now that the source of it was upstairs. “Oh, uh, if you want to go for a run, you can. I’m not sure my arm would like it very much, though. Weird thing about being a bag of meat and blood is that when one part of the bag gets damaged, when you do something like running and pressurize the system then it will pressurize the WHOLE system. You can’t just have extra blood pumping faster in only your legs. My arm would get it too. Much as I would actually really like something to do with all this nervous energy, I think I’ll have to pass on the run tonight. Sorry.”

“WELL… MAYBE THERE COULD BE OTHER THINGS YOU COULD DO WITH YOUR ENERGY. WINK.” Papyrus winked at the same time he announced it, shifting a little closer to you and taking your hand in his. The blush returned in full force, and you were pretty sure your face was going to be stuck this color until the day you died. Which might be a lot sooner rather than later at this rate. “Perhaps I Have Some Energy That Needs An Outlet As Well.”

Well, so much for the whole ‘needing to pass on activities that would make your heart race’ thing. And truth be told your arm was starting to ache a bit because your heart WAS racing. But there was no way in hell a little thing like that was going to derail you now. Not when Papyrus was looking at you through half-lidded eyes and stepping right into your personal space like that.

Your fingertips found the crests of his hip bones sticking out over his waistband and he shivered when you kneaded the pads of your thumbs over the thin black fabric covering them. Remembering what he’d said about intent, you thought about how handsome he’d look squirming with pleasure beneath you and you kneaded there again. He gasped, eye sockets lipping closed, and caught your shoulders for support. Again, and he hunched forward.

Oh, how dearly you wanted to walk him backwards to the partition wall and press him up against it. Your heart and hands burned with it as they slipped up to his ribcage to trace over the bottom ribs sticking out of his cropped white Battle Body top. He trembled in a full-body shudder and pressed his teeth to your forehead. But then you splayed your hands flat against his sides (or as much as you could with the cast covering part of your one palm) and pulled in a calming breath. “Hey… you ok?”

“Ye- Yes I’m… I Can Feel Your Passionate Feelings For Me. Please Don’t Stop. I Need Them. I NEED MORE.”

You chuckled. “Hey. Take a breath. Look at me.”

Papyrus huffed, kissed your forehead, and then pulled back an unsteady half-step to meet your eye. You cradled his jaw in your good palm and touched with your fingertips on the other side, framing his face as well as you could. “I understand the ‘passionate intent’ part. But I need to know what you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to just touch you for a little while tonight? Do you want me to kiss you? This is kindof our first… anything. And I want to treat you right because I love you. Typically this would kindof be the time when two humans, which is the thing I have more experience with, would make out for a while. Because we can’t really feel intent the way you can. It’s all just nerve endings. But we still have… not exactly rules but … customs? Uh… norms for how physical actions like these take place. We don’t have to follow those norms, but I’ll admit that I’d be a bit of a nervous wreck that I was taking advantage of you if I started undressing you this early in the relationship. Unless that’s what you want from me. What do you want tonight and what don’t you want tonight?”

He gulped down a few deep breaths and nodded into your palm. “You’re Right. Any Encounter Will Have Rules. I Haven’t Exactly Read Any Rule Books About This Kind Of Encounter Before. But I Am Not Opposed To Us Making Our Own.”

“And those rules can change too,” you added softly, letting his face slide out of your hands as you stepped backwards to the couch and sat down. “You’re always allowed to decide that you want to try something, and then realize that you don’t like it. And if you don’t like something, we can make new rules or change old rules.”

Papyrus nodded and followed you, but chose to sit on the floor at your feet instead of joining you on the couch. “I Understand. What Rules Do You Suggest?”

“Clothes on.” You held up one finger with a teasing smirk. “That’s a pretty easy one to start with in a new relationship. Not every relationship has to start with that one, but in your case, I am going to suggest it. At least for tonight while we’re figuring out what you like. Another one humans have that some people think is silly but CAN be a good thing to establish early for ANY kind of relationship is a Safe Word. Or a few safe words. Things you don’t normally say in conversation but can be used to communicate that you’re being serious and everything needs to stop. For example, if I’m feeling shy about something I might say “no” or “don’t” but I don’t mean that you need to get up and leave. But if something happens and I want everything to stop, then having a safe word can be really useful. It might seem silly to a monster that could feel that change in intent, but since humans can’t feel that, it’s good to be prepared. If I’m doing something you want me to stop, I can’t just feel that from you. Some people use like… traffic lights. Red Light, Yellow Light, Green Light. Some people use fruits or silly words like Pumpernickel.”

“OH! I SEE! BECAUSE HUMANS CAN’T… YES, THAT MAKES SENSE. WELL! WHAT ABOUT BLUE? LIKE A BLUE STOP SIGN?”

A soft chuckle passed through your lips and you grinned. “Ok. Blue means everything stops. We can use that. I’ve had enough practice with your blue special attacks that I’ll be able to remember that one. Clothes on, Blue means everything stops. Past that just… talk to me. Ok? Tell me if what I’m doing is something you like or don’t like. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, as long as I know that you don’t like it. I promise.”

“WHAT ABOUT YOU?” He reached over and placed his hand on your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours and then dropping down to his hand with an offended squint. “YOU CANNOT FEEL MY PASSIONATE FEELINGS FOR YOU. HOW WILL YOU KNOW WHAT I AM INTENDING FOR YOU TO FEEL?”

You snickered, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. “Human biology lesson can wait for another day. It’s like… so late at night. How about we take care of you tonight and another night I’ll teach you how to make a human squirm. Sound fair?”

“NOT ESPECIALLY BECAUSE I WILL GO TO SLEEP AFTER WE ARE DONE CANOODLING KNOWING THAT I WAS UNABLE TO MAKE YOU FEEL THE PASSIONATE FEELINGS THAT YOU ARE SO EASILY ABLE TO CONVEY WITH YOUR INTENT. BUT I SHALL NOT BE BESTED BY BIOLOGY! I WILL USE MY FRUSTRATION TO MY ADVANTAGE AND CHANNEL MY WEAKNESS INTO EVEN MORE PASSIONATE INTENT AND A WILLINGNESS TO LEARN ALL ABOUT YOUR MEAT AND SKIN AND NERVOUS SYSTEM AND BONES!”

Papyrus nodded triumphantly and you cackled, reaching out to him. “Alright. C’mere, bone boy. You want a quick Human Fact? Human mouths are extremely sensitive. Humans like to kiss because all those nerves in our lips and tongues do a very good job of communicating intent.” He perked up and shifted to his knees, placing himself between yours as you sat up more fully. “Just like the fact that we have to use words to communicate intent, gestures also communicate intent. It’s a little bit like a dance. The right steps, done at the right time, send one message. Different steps done at a different time send a different message. Figuring out what steps to do when is part of the learning process. But if you want to communicate passionate intent without just grabbing someone’s dick, kissing is probably the best way to do that.”

“Will You Teach Me The Steps To This Dance?” He touched his forehead to yours and you leaned into him. “I May Not Have Lips, But I Might Have Something That Will Work In Their Place.”

You nuzzled his face and grabbed his hand, pressing a kiss to the palm of his bright red glove. “I can. Maybe a demonstration will help. Would you mind if I removed your glove?”

He swallowed and pulled his hand back, fiddling with it nervously. “I don’t mind, but my hands…” He shrank into himself a little and chanced a momentary meeting of your eyes before turning his attention to his gloves again. “They Are… Perfectly Normal In Every Way But Maybe Please Don’t Be Too Shocked At How Normal They Are If The Type Of Normal Is Different From Your Type Of Normal?”

You held out your hands to him with a soft smile. “I’m sure they’re lovely. Honestly the most surprising thing about your hands is that they feel so thick and solid inside your gloves. They don’t feel like bones in there. They feel like… well… hands. Like mine.”

He nodded and hesitantly placed one in yours, palm up. You used your one good hand to knead the palm of it, feeling what you would presume to be flesh under the fabric. It wasn’t even leather either. Just the same kind of fabric the rest of his battle body was made of. You gripped the tip of the fabric at his middle finger and looked up at him, waiting for permission. He nodded after a moment and you pulled, revealing the thin and delicate bones that had been hiding underneath. You blinked twice, noticing that the center of his palms seemed to have a perfect circle missing from them, but honestly at this point you’d been half expecting them to be lizard hands with the way monsters seemed to be built. You’d seen Sans drink with a straw and you’d held a monster in your hands that was literally an entire nose. The only thing remarkable about them (and maybe this was just a skeleton-monster quirk) was that the holes in the palms perfectly matched Sans’.

You looked up at him with an exasperated smile. “Papyrus, have you ever thought about playing the piano? You have, like, the world’s best piano fingers. Any pianist in a 100 mile radius would commit crimes to have fingers like yours. They look perfect.”

His cheeks glowed a pretty orange but the tiny pinpricks of moisture in the corners of his crinkled eye sockets told you that he was more than a little relieved that you had said as much. He placed his other hand in your lap and you pulled that glove off too. Picking the first up, you kissed each of his knuckles before turning his hand over and kissing around the edges of his palm. Then, pulling his hand closer, you kissed his wrist at the edge of the spandex sleeve normally hidden by his glove. This one lingered, delicately, and then you traced a tiny heart with your tongue, your mind wondering what it would be like to lick your way all the way up his arm. He whimpered, leaning closer as you kissed back up towards the tip of his index finger and then pulled it into your mouth so you could catch it between your teeth.

“O-oh.”

You waggled your eyebrows at him, which pulled a soft snort and a smile out of his slack-jawed stare. You kissed the tip of his finger again before leaning in and pressing a searing kiss to his teeth, your good hand skating over the apex of his hip bone and following the curve backwards towards his spine. Papyrus shivered, breath fanning over your face, and you chased that tremor with your fingertips up his spine and into the cavity of his ribcage. He gasped and surged forward, curling around you and caging you in with his arms all in one motion, and you stopped to let him pant into your shoulder.

“Too much?”

He didn’t answer immediately, so you pulled your hands back and placed them gently on his arms. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head adamantly and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You hugged him back and gently scratched your nails over the back of his head. After he’d caught his breath some of the tension drained out of his posture and he kissed your neck. “I Didn’t Say Blue.”

“You didn’t have to. Like I said, humans read each other’s feelings by paying attention to their gestures and body language. Yours said ‘overstimulated,’ and I don’t want that for you. I want this to be something nice that you’ll enjoy. Not something you have to endure. Even something nice, when it’s too much all at once, can be bad. Some people like it, and that’s ok. But that’s the kind of thing you should learn about yourself slowly.”

Papyrus nodded and released his hold on you, returning to caging you in with the couch taking the bulk of his bodyweight. All six pounds of it. “Thank You. For Being Careful With Me. Taking Care Of Me. I Think… I Like It. It’s Not Often That I’m Overpowered. You Make Me Feel Weak, But I Know I’m Safe. Can You Do That Again?”

You kissed his cheek and carded your fingers over his ribs. “A little, but I meant what I said. I don’t want to overstimulate you tonight. I can touch your spine again, but how about we try it with gentle and curious intent this time? I think too much intent plus it being a sensitive spot for you might have been too much last time.”

Papyrus huffed a laugh and shook his head, leaning back to catch your eye with fond exasperation. “Is The Whole Night Going To Be Like This?”

You grinned and winked. “Maybe. Is that a dealbreaker? Do you want to stop?”

He growled playfully, making you squeal and giggle, and scooped you up just enough to crawl overtop of you and shift your position so you were laying on the couch beneath him. “Please, Not Until I Say Blue.”

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EYYYYY thanks for reading my For Funzies and Not Yet Canon To The Storyline Fic! If you could take a Post-Fade-To-Black Survey, That Would Be Great!

Thanks!

[andtheghost]

01/16/24 - You’re made of contradictions

First off, I believe in astrology. I also know that it goes way, way beyond star signs. Really I think if most people looked into it with an open mind and allowed themselves to be honest, it would be hard NOT to believe in it. But also I’ve seen enough things line up too well to not believe it.

And we’re not talking prophets from centuries in the past making vague enough predictions that they could be plugged into any number of situations that have actually come to pass. In 2019, people predicted that there was going to be a pandemic the following year. Used the word pandemic. One of the videos I watched, the guy kept waffling around the word pandemic, because he didn’t want to scare people, but also he couldn’t deny that’s what it looked like. Some predicted a world war, because what they were seeing was death everywhere.

The problem with astrology is that it’s not a science. It requires some assumption, some conjecture, some guesswork. And there’s no test to run to see if your predictions are accurate. You make the predictions, then you wait and see how close you are, then you take notes on where you went wrong so hopefully you’ll do better next time. Or you look at what happened the last couple times this planet was in this house, and try to figure out how that relates to the world today.

I personally don’t make predictions, because I don’t understand it well enough. I do, however, come to my own conclusions on how I feel about other people’s predictions. But I base those ideas on the patterns I’m seeing in the world around me, not the placement of the stars.

But I have noticed this very particular behavior among people who believe in astrology that half amuses me, half confuses me, half irritates me. That’s too many halves, but whatever.

They take every transit, every full moon, every retrograde SO SERIOUSLY. Like dude. These things are happening every day. Why is this one so special? This could be the Taurus in me talking, but chill the fuck out, guys.

To be fair, I’ve seen certain transits have drastic impacts on me personally. And since I tend to be more reactionary when it comes to astrology, I’m rarely expecting it when it happens, and not prepared. I didn’t realize that retrograde was going to uproot my entire life for a month because I didn’t even realize it was going to be happening until it was happening. And even if I had known it was going to be happening, I don’t know enough about astrology to know how it’s going to affect me anyway, so how do you prepare for that?

Right now it’s Pluto moving into Aquarius. Apparently it’s the sign that AI is about to take over. Or governments are going to start falling. Others are still saying war. It’s also interesting how they all KNOW what’s going to happen, but their predictions are all so incredibly different.

In 2019, everyone at least agreed DEATH was absolutely going to be a thing, even if not everyone agreed on how it was going to happen. I suppose one thing being so prevalent on such a large scale, there were only so many options that could cause something like that, right? It almost had to be widespread illness or war.

As much hype as this Pluto in Aquarius thing is getting, no one seems to be able to pinpoint exactly what it’s going to do. Just some kind of drastic change to… something. Something to do with communication maybe? Or technology? Surely it has to do with innovation. But dude. Innovation is happening EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME. Vaguest. Prediction. Ever.

Nostradamus would be so proud.

But if no one can agree on what’s going to happen, maybe it’s not going to be such a huge deal? Or maybe it’s going to change something so integral to the very foundations of society that no one can see something that big hidden in all the little details.

And once again, the dreaded fate thing pops it’s nasty little head up. Because that whole concept has been kind of kicking me in the teeth lately, and it is RELENTLESS. Because if you can look at some stars and planets and asteroids, and multiple people across the globe can accurately predict a pandemic, then there has to be something to it. Or could that have been a coincidence?

And if the future is written in the stars for anyone knowledgeable enough to figure out what they’re saying, then fate has to be real on at least some level. But it doesn’t matter, does it? It still goes back to no one will ever know (?) so it doesn’t matter. And how incredibly boring would life be anyway, if everyone knew everything that was going to happen?

That’s really the thing I like about astrology: it’s interesting. It’s an intricate web of a thousand little puzzles to ponder and pick apart and the more puzzles you figure out, the more puzzles get revealed, and it’s just endless. And there’s no way to “figure it out” because it’s constantly changing. You can learn how the mechanisms work, but the planets are never going to stop moving.

In any other context, the inability to solve the puzzle would drive me absolutely INSANE. But I’m not really interested in solving this one. I like the fact that it’s unsolvable. If you solve the puzzle, that’s it. I like that it’s never going to get boring. And I’m really not sure why.

[wizardpigeon]

@kittycattscathy largely spite, I don't remember the website BC my mum found it in the end but searching "1830s coat" or frockcoat patterns should get a decent result,

As it stands I'm gonna try and adapt a coat pattern we already have bc the fancy historic one was like, 30 quid, and I'm not dropping 30 on a pattern I could finagle myself,

The pattern I found didn't have the low front but based on the drawings of men's fashion from the 1830s, it did appear just seems to vary person to person

Hang on I'll grab some pictures

Somehow this black and white picture is the clearest look I'll ever get but @emptymasks has been incredibly helpful by already having compiled a ton of pictures from, i think every major production probably, so I didnt have to scrounge around going frame by frame

See with these two, both coats are longer but definitely have the same silhouette, although I'm certain they chose to modernise Der Tods a tad with length and sleeve shape, so while still very recognisable its not a super dated look for the audience who are meant to be going "oh he's pretty hang on"

Which obviously isn't completely dispelled by accurate period wear but if you're dancing around in otherwise full black and I'm like, 98% certain the original coat is velvet or velvet adjacent then no way in hell do you want that fully period accurate because frock coats were not worn while dancing

Again the picture of Uwe isn't great for it but you can tell the skirt of the coat is shorter than my reference pictures, and the sleeves are more of a modern standard compared to the puffy gathering seen on the blue one

You know I cannot find a single damn picture of the ass of Uwes coat? I have to guess if that's pleated if it has the typical flap mechanics, if it's just one continuous skirt

I'm so glad the trousers I can just go "generic military look, shiny buttons" because so help me if they'd put him in visibly period dress Id be very impressed but I'd also want to die,

I'm also assuming hes got like, a possibility short sleeved turtle neck on? Since he's wearing gloves an I know they go up like, mid forearm, hes not visibly in any form of actual shirt with buttons or anything, but its such a solid black that it manages to not show up in the lighting at all

The velvet is going to cause me issues because I cannot figure out if it's, like all black velvet or if it's a very dark blue, cause I know there's actually a dark blue in some sections bc it shows up as visibly blue in multiple scenes (collar and the like, top stripe of the arms), but the rest of the visible stripes we've been attributing to the velvet going in different directions due to paneling

I've got no idea what to do about the buttons tho, it's gotta match the, presumably broach so hopefully I'll be able to get matching buttons in different sizes,

I know I kinda just info dumped but nobody's asked me about it yet and I will take any excuse I've watched this three times in the last week and I've listened to the soundtrack so much I'm starting to understand German, I can sing Der leteze tanz far too well for someone who only knew three words of German a week ago

Somehow with only 90s camera quality and spite I managed to track down an actual pattern for a 1830s frock coat that has the right silhouette for Uwe Krögers Der Tod

[loganofthenorth]

Do you have any ships you don't like?

Ever just look into your inbox and realize you have a bunch of asks you forgot about? Ha could be me

That was going to say couldn't be me but auto correct changed it and it's not wrong so I'm leaving it

Anywho, ships I don't like? Yes of course, I have many.

Obviously there's the forbidden ship r*mr*m that shouldn't even be a thing so I'm not going to dignify it with a paragraph

Then there's Logicality which I've written about before. I used to like it, but after rewatching Sanders Sides twice I realized they aren't very healthy for each other in a romantic sense. Patton seems to make Logan out to be the bad guy when he's just trying to help, and Logan tends to snap when his patience runs thin. Also the Skip incident in SVS Redux, where Patton asked for Logan's input before silencing him because Logan's opinion went against his.

Then there's Intruality, I love it in AUs under certain circumstances, but it's a big fat No in cannon. It doesn't work because if you look at Sanders Sides from Remus's perspective, Patton is a manipulative abuser. If you look at Sanders Sides from Patton's perspective, Remus is a bad guy that lashes out for no reason. Like, sure, one could say that they might work through that and think they misunderstood each other. However, neither of them are technically wrong. Besides, considering that Remus exists because his version of creativity was morally frowned upon, and was therefore repressed so that Roman could be a morally appropriate version of creativity, a romantic relationship would be awkward at absolute best. Honestly if they do somehow work on their issues with each other, the best outcome would be that Remus and Patton's relationship would become a sort of father that abandoned his son and now they're reconnecting kind of thing.

Then there's Moxiety, this one is just because I see Patton and Virgil in a father/son relationship. Also, the fact that Virgil is Thomas's fears and fear is an emotion, which Patton has dominion over, it's possible that Patton is actually Virgil's father in the same way that Roman and Remus are brothers. I also believe that the Orange Side is anger, and if that's the case, he would be Patton's son as well.

I can go into that theory in another post though.

Next is Royality, and yes I know, you're probably sensing a pattern.

Now, don't get me wrong. While Patton is my least favourite character, that doesn't mean I hate him. I actually love Patton, especially in episodes like the puppet episode where he shows incredible emotional maturity that is really helpful to Thomas.

I also love how complicated of a character he is, and it's sad that the fandom simplifies him to just a happy, nice, cute, silly character, because he's more than that. He has severe depression, and a lot of issues that come from that. He also grew up taking catholic views to heart, following all the morals Thomas was taught as well as he can.

On top of that, he manages emotions, which is such an incredibly complicated thing to be in charge of. He manages instincts, like when Thomas feels good for doing something good, or when Thomas is hungry, or thirsty, or whatever else. He manages a large percentage of Thomas's likes, dislikes, sense of humour, inner child, and more. Patton has a large mountain of responsibilities, which adds to the complexity of his character.

He also appears to be very manipulative, whether or not he intends to be using manipulation tactics, I don't know. I think his character's too complicated to know that for sure. However, he's done a lot of love bombing, guilt tripping, and other manipulative actions that make him out to be this innocent good guy and anyone that disagrees with him to look like a bad guy.

Due to how complex of a character Patton is, and due to how he has made himself a father figure to most of the sides, it's hard to enjoy him in most ships in cannon. The only ship that works well for him is Moceit, in my opinion, because Janus is working with him to help Patton work through these issues. Patton is also good for Janus because Janus needs to learn how to communicate in a way that doesn't seem like he's attacking or sabotaging Thomas/the other sides.

Now, with that aside, back to Royality.

Royality is a very best friend or father/son relationship. More best friend in AUs and Father/Son in both cannon and AUs. I say more father son in cannon, because Roman has shown a desire to gain Patton's approval. He tries to follow Patton's rules, even though every time he finally manages to meet Patton's impossible standards, suddenly they change and turn around completely. (I have ranted about this several times and will likely do it again in future posts.)

Now, with those out of the way, yes there is more.

Next is Logince

I like Logince in AUs, and it's not that I don't think Logan and Roman's dynamic is amazing, it's not that I think they wouldn't work romantically, I just see them more as a brotherly relationship. Roman treats Logan like an older brother that he fights a lot with, but at the end of the day he just wants to be good enough for Logan. The way they talk about Patton to each other is a lot like Roman being a teenage brother complaining about their Dad and how lame/strict/embarrassing/etc he is to his adult brother.

Then there's Anxceit. This one I don't like because I see Janus as a mother figure to Virgil and Remus. I guess it could work in AUs, but to get their dynamic right, it would probably be a friends to enemies to lovers situation. Like Catradora. Also Janus and Virgil still have a lot of bad blood to work through, so if I'm wrong about the mother/son bond and they were just friends before, then Anxceit would probably have a lot of work to do and an awkward patching up before they can be in a healthy relationship.

Now there's Demus and Roceit. Which, maybe they shouldn't be on this list, because I do like these ships, but I do want to talk about them.

Demus I tend to feel meh about, it's basically dark side Royality. They work as a mother/son dynamic or best friends, not really romantic partners. However, I love them when it's Intruloceit, because I love Loceit and Intrulogical.

Roceit, this is friends to enemies to lovers galore. Roceit is not a healthy ship currently, but it's definitely an entertaining one. Due to Roman's insecurities and Janus using Roman for his greater plan, however, I don't know if a romantic relationship would work in cannon. It depends on where the story goes from where we are right now. However this is the perfect enemies to lovers ship for AUs if you get bored of Prinxiety's popularity.

Now what's interesting about Demus and Roceit is that if you believe in the theory that Roman and Remus were once King Creativity, which I do, and if you've seen the King AU, which I have, that adds all kinds of layers of complicated to Demus and Roceit. Of course, I may go over that in a future post.

Sorry this was so long, I hope you enjoyed my infodump!

[plutonianrising]

the waiting game n.k.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

wc: 2.9k

description: reader has a knack for weaseling her way out of trouble but today nanami's knots are tied tight

a/n: this is incredibly self-indulgent im not sorry though

cw: f!reader, dom!namami, bratty reader, kink exploration, shibari, edgeplay, subspace, degradation, red/yellow/green light system, pwp

MINORS DNI PLS

“Your lack of impulse control is still pretty astonishing though,” Nanami cocks an eyebrow at you. “I doubt you could actually handle holding an orgasm off for 10 minutes let alone 45.”

You work to manage the urge to argue over him and prove his point. Calmly, with the most pleasant smile you could muster, you say “that’s what you’re here for. I promise to tell you when I’m close. Every time. Promise.”

He’s still skeptical of how seriously you’d take this. It’s hard to believe in you when you’re playing with your fingers behind your back and have a familiar wicked glint in your eyes. You had a knack for saying you’d listen well and then changing your mind halfway, opting to get your way just a little bit even if it meant punishment. Still, the sight of you begging for mercy is always a welcome one and the thought of it already makes his pulse jump.

“Alright. But I’m putting some precautions in place.” Nanami tells you. You purse your lips, already feeling like he’s set the game on hard mode.

“Whaaat kind of precautions?” You inquire, squinting.

“I’m restraining you so you can’t touch. This is a good time to start breaking that bad habit. Don’t you think so?” He smiles conspiratorially. It dawns on you now that you shouldn’t have come in so hot, boldly suggesting 45 minutes during your first real attempt at it. “Go ahead and sit on the bed and wait for me. I’m going to freshen up and get everything ready.”

Nanami sends you off with a searing kiss and a smack on your ass that leaves you giggling as you head to his bedroom. It’s small moments like these that you can’t help but wish for more of. The speed in which you pack your bags to sleep over whenever he has even a little bit of time off would be embarrassing if he were anyone else. But he’s Nanami and here, for your eyes only, Kento gets to fully be himself. Goofier than he’ll ever let on and a very specific brand of annoying that means he’s incredibly dependable but also eats your desserts while commenting on how they were much too sweet for him.

When he’s back in the room you’re already undressed and sitting at the edge of the bed. The perfect picture of obedience with your hands clasped in your lap as you patiently waited for his return. He’s half dressed in a tight shirt and boxer briefs that show off his toned leg muscles. In his hands is a smooth black rope. His eyes seem to glow with hunger as he takes you in.

This isn't the first time he’s used these ties on you. You can still remember the tingle of excitement that shot through you after finding out that bondage was one of his favorite kinds of play. Even outside of the sexual aspect of it, he’s making it one of yours. It’s a loving act. One full of devotion and precise calculation. There’s always complete and utter focus in his eyes as he slides the rope against your skin. His work is neat and even, with your safety at top priority. With a rope wound tight enough to bite your flesh and steal your breath if you fought too hard, you give Nanami your full trust. And once he has it, he has the power to make you feel like a masterpiece. You’re reminded of this power as he caresses his work. Rope winds around your torso with a slight emphasis on your arms. Soon enough your arms are crossed and caged against your chest. Nanami tugs the final knot at the center of it and stares into your eyes as you try to keep your composure.

“How does it feel?” He whispers and you think that he must know that it feels perfect. You curse the way he wets his lips and smirks slightly.

He must have a book hiding somewhere.

“It feels good Kento.” You whisper, wriggling around a bit as he then spreads your knees apart. Nanami hums in satisfaction.

“Relax for me.” He says, reminding you to keep you still as he presses down on your thigh, strong hands deftly moving to immobilize your left leg with the black rope in a frogtie.

“How am I supposed to do that?” You complain, still squirming as his touch warms your skin. Have his hands always been so large, his touch so insistent?

“Or don’t. But it’ll be your skin rubbed raw after. Not mine.” Nanami warns. “My best work only comes from your cooperation. Remember?”

You huff but keep your thoughts to yourself. Instead you focus on the tight muscles of Nanami’s arms rippling under his shirt. He knots your right leg, and you flush at how stretched apart you are. Your only source of modesty comes from your hands covering your chest and they flex and unflex as your head starts to catch up with what happens next. You kick yourself for agreeing to being tied up, wanting nothing more than to touch him. You take your lips between your teeth slightly as you catch his gaze raking down your figure. Nanami slowly runs a few fingers over you. He travels upward from your bare thighs past your hips and traces feather soft patterns on your stomach. You can’t help the way your legs twitch when he finally dips his fingers lower and presses against your pussy, stroking you.

“Give me a color sweetheart.”

“Green.” You whimper. “Please kiss me.” Nanami seems to consider it for a moment but removes his touch completely from you instead.

“Be good for me and you’ll get as much of me as you want.”

“Don’t you think you should start the clock before you get me all riled up?” You protest as he places the bullet vibrator and a spare pillow in between your legs, the toy nuzzled snug right against your clit. “I deserve a fair chance.”

“Oh so now you’re the only one allowed to cheat and bend rules?” He quips with a teasing smile. You have no retort for that but mostly because Kento has turned on the vibrator. Your hips buck against the toy and pillow on impulse at the abruptness and you glare at Nanami who shushes you and begins to speak over the quiet buzz.

“Since it’s your first time edging we’ll start with 25 minutes, starting now. Whenever you get close you need to tell me. And if you cum before you’ve gotten permission then that’ll just have to be it until my next off weekend.”

“Your… next weekend off?” You would’ve screamed if half of your attention wasn’t on the powerful vibrations sending pleasure ricocheting through your body. “We don’t even.. Know.. when that is.”

“I know right? I would hate to leave my love desperate for so long with no clear end in sight just because she couldn’t commit to something she asked for in the first place.” Nanami fakes a pout and you want to bite him. It was bad enough he was threatening to really make you wait so long to touch him without bringing your pride into it.

Nanami watches the way your lips part and pupils dilate as you struggle to remain in control of your reactions. Your hips jump every so often, the rope biting into the soft flesh of your legs. When your soft moans begin escalating and you look to him desperately, trying to decide for yourself if you can handle anymore, it takes more strength than he’d like to admit to not touch himself at the sight of you. He makes the decision for you, and your head lolls a bit as you try to catch your break.

The waves of your demise creep up on you quicker after that. Again and again Kento brings you right to the edge, turning up the intensity of the vibrator after each break he allows you in between.

“I can’t- Kento I’m-” You moan, your voice crescendoing and your eyes screwing shut. You can’t help the way you rock against the pillow even after the vibrator stops and the orgasm that had built within you started to fade.

“Who told you that you could hump the pillow? That’s a pretty pathetic attempt at trying to get what you want.” Nanami chides from his seat.

Your face heats in embarrassment and you avert your eyes a bit. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Doesn’t that make it worse?” He laughs cruelly and lets his eyes rake over your body. “Filthy little slut can’t even control her own body?”

Kento gets up and comes closer, placing a gentle hand on your thigh. His touch was soft, but it was a reminder of the kind of damage he could inflict.

“Stop. Moving.” He warns you coolly, dark eyes narrowing. His ever-deepening well of patience was scary at times but right now you’re grateful for the mercy, needing chance after chance to prove you could make it.

It’s gotten to the point that the lightest of touches make you feel like you’ll succumb and let all your hard work go to waste. You’re almost thankful your nipples are off the table for this play.

“Kento- Kento please I really am gonna-” You whimper, your chest heaving. You feel like any more of this and you’ll start drooling.

“You won’t.” Kento answers.

The commanding bass of his voice makes your senses jump and you panic, barely managing to yelp out another “Kento please” and feel the toy shut off before you’re sent careening off the edge. Your muscles feel tight and your skin sweaty by this point. You can’t tell if Kento is more focused on the heaving of your chest or the way your fingers flex and unflex to try and alleviate the strain of keeping your focus.

“God..how long has it-” You try to speak once it feels like you can breathe a bit again. Nanami smirks at the way your head lolls to one side and your eyes lazily work to focus on him.

“You’ve officially hit 20 minutes, sweetheart. Only 5 more to go.”

“Do you realize how fucking drenched you are baby?” He smirks, pulling your pussy apart slightly to get a better look. “Makes me want to forget all about this and make you fall apart with my tongue a few times. You’d like that, wouldn't you?”

“Don’t.. Don’t say that. The rule is I can’t for another 5.” You force yourself to remember and steel your resolve. You know he’s really just testing you at this point, seeing if you’ll break under his pressure.

“Good girl” He purrs, soothing the small pout off your lips with distracting kisses on your thighs. “The more you control yourself the more I know I can trust you.”

You so badly want him to trust you. Looking down at Kento spoil you while teetering on the edge makes you dizzy. He could tell you to do anything at this point and you’d probably listen if it meant he would indulge you more. Your head swims with the possibility that he’ll treat you like this again if you do well.

Nanami moves aside the pillow and vibrator, replacing the toy with his own hand before you can get upset with him. The gasp that escapes you fills him with pride. All it takes is a slight touch to make your body completely tremble. You can’t actually tell that the alarm has gone off until he whispers how well you’ve done for him.

“See? Didn’t I tell you good girls get everything they want? Now you get to cum all over my fingers all you want.”

Your body is almost afraid to finally let go, so used to feeling coiled up tight that you feel like you might not be able to. Kento senses the struggle within you and softens his touch to bring down the intensity for you just a bit.

“You did it, you deserve this sweetheart.” He presses open-mouthed kisses up your neck, knowing full well the onslaught of praise would send you over. Sure enough, a noise from deep inside of you wells up in your throat as you’re sent crashing over the edge. You throw your head back and try to close your legs only to be stopped by Nanami’s hands, hell-bent on making you ride it out. Your hands clench borderline painfully, your arms testing your restraints. You can’t even plead with him. The pleasure erupting from you, for once, has stolen your voice.

Testing the water, Kento lets a bit of spit fall from his lips. You catch it on your tongue, staring at him lovingly with hazy, unfocused eyes and he almost loses his mind.

“There’s my sweet girl.” He purrs. Nanami knows you’ll be completely compliant now, dredging through subspace. You won’t be giving any coherent remarks outside of anything he commands of you now, all resistance and witty one-liners fading to static in your mind. “Been so good for me today that I actually get to reward you.”

You whine in appreciation. Chest swelling with pride, you bask in his praise. You initially thought it was more fun to see his eyes turn icy when you spent a half a session acting up in order to get punished into this headspace but you could get used to having Nanami painstakingly coax it out of you.

“Tell me your color, my love.” Nanami kisses your forehead, to remind you, first and foremost, that he doesn’t want anything if it doesn’t mean you and he are sharing the pleasure, even if you could only think about how good you wanted to make him feel.

“Green.. hehe..definitelyygreen.” Your words slightly slurred together as you tried to prove your focus.

“So, sweetheart, what do you want me to give you in return?” He leans down and whispers in your ear, rubbing your thighs soothingly. You have to think for a moment to actually get the words out, trying to get your brain to be more specific than Kento, Kento, Kento.

“Wantt… want to touch you.. And I… want you inside.” You strain against your ties, not even minding the slight bite of the ropes at this point if it meant he would free you faster.

Nanami lets you place ardent kisses against his skin as he undoes the restraints on your arms and you're thankful to finally, finally, get some contact with him. His skin burns with desire as you pull him onto you. He has half a mind to really pry another orgasm from you with his head between your thighs but the growing ache between his expels the thought. He hastily twists out of his clothes and back onto you. You’ve waited long enough for what’s yours.

Nanami enters you slowly, softly pulling your still-tied legs further apart. You will your eyes not to screw shut, trying to put forth some effort to meet his searing gaze. Neither of you really register the way your nails slightly dig into his forearms from the pressure. The pace Kento sets is torturous. He makes you savor every roll of his hips into yours. It almost feels like he’s squeezing the pleasure out of you. There’s nowhere to run. There’s only him.

There’s no warning when you cum again, your body completely bypassing your brain in the decision. It’s a rush of heat and an uncontrollable tremble. You can barely even recognize your own voice calling out his name. As you squeeze tighter around him, Nanami grunts and wills himself not to bend your legs forward and fuck hard into you until you’re a teary mess. There will be other times for that. Today he just wants to spoil his sweet girl for her efforts to please.

“Where do you want me to cum?” He asks, like he’s not literally fucking the words right out of your brain. If you still had the energy for it you’d bite him.

“Kento please. In...inside… ” Obviously. You keep that snide bit to yourself. There’s no real desire to sass him when he’s making your body shake this badly.

Kento grabs onto your wrists like he’s anchoring himself to you. Through the haze dusting your mind you register his pace getting sloppier and the soft moans that fall from his lips as he finishes inside of you.

It took a bit for Kento’s strength to return to him and a little while longer to pry his eyes off of your blissed out expression. He whispered for you to let go of him so he could take care of you. Shushing your whines, he pries your fingers off of him so he can untie you. He still needs to run the bath and start some tea for you and if he spends any more time in your arms he would fall asleep right next to you without properly performing his duties.

Once he’s back from prepping, Nanami lifts you from the bed and begins to carry you to the bathroom, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. With your head clearing slightly, you can fully feel the effects of your win on your ego.

With hooded lids and a proud smirk plastered on your lips you say, “is it too late to add a shopping trip to my rewards?”

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 13

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: sad. this chapter is sad. Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You were sitting at a stool in the compound’s kitchen when a familiar face walked in. Bucky had eventually explained to you that this was a sort of “headquarters” for the team. You felt a bit foolish having realized you never kept up much with these mighty heroes but you were eager to learn now. So far, you hadn’t encountered anyone you didn’t personally know on this famed team. Even now your eyes landed on the welcoming yet worried face of Steve.

“Morning,” you said, waving your fork before stabbing some of your scrambled eggs. Bucky had insisted on cooking for you despite your assurance you were fine but his cooking skills were....subpar. Still, nothing was inedible and you needed your strength back.

Steve reciprocated the greeting, saying your name with much excitement. “How are you feeling?” He added while making his way to the coffee pot. You chewed your eggs borderline viciously as you debated on an answer. 

“I’m okay.” You gave a shrug, staring down at your plate. Part of you wanted to let more out but you ignored it.

Steve came back around to the counter, standing on the other side across from you. He held his coffee cup firmly, nervously almost. You could feel him watching you. That excitement he had said your name with felt like it was evaporating from the room slowly.

“That’s… good,” Steve said. “If you need someone to talk to we have plenty of resources and - and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You peaked a glance at him, confused. You placed your fork on the counter. “Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“I worry I led them right to you,” he explained, “like you two were separated for a reason.”

You frowned. You hadn’t thought about this - heck, you hadn’t thought about blaming anyone other than the disgusted men with such joyous evil looks in their eyes.

“Steve, I don’t think there was any way anyone could’ve prevented this.” You pushed your plate of food away. “They had their sights set. They had a plan, an optimism. It may have just been the soulmate experience in this case,” you sighed. Steve mumbled your name, shaking his head, but you continued, “And that’s fine. Love doesn’t come easy, right?”

“Being kidnapped is not part of being in love.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have an ex-assassin for a soulmate.”

Steve’s jaw went slack. You were staring him down now, practically begging him to say one more thing. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve finally settled on. Ever the cool, calm, and collected star-spangled man. “You will recover and it’ll never happen again, we can promise you that.” His voice was serious as if every word ended with a period. You felt tears starting to well in your eyes. You wanted to say something, maybe ask for a hug or just… you didn’t know what, so you just sat there, slumped in your chair like a defeated puppy.

“Everything okay here?” A sudden voice made you jump. You and Steve turned towards the kitchen doorway where Bucky was standing, arms crossed, worry etched all over his face. It seemed to become his permanent expression now. Even when it was just you two, he always appeared on edge.

You nodded, turning back to collect your plate and take it to the sink. “We were just chatting.” You didn’t see the look you just knew Steve and Bucky were sharing.

When you turned back around to face the pair, Bucky had crossed the room, almost close enough to now be hovering over you. You flinched when he went to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn’t know why as you clearly didn’t think he was a threat but hadn’t you seen how threatening he could be? You lowered your head, fighting off the thoughts. He wasn’t like that to you and he had proven it time and time again. Why was it suddenly different?

Before either of the men could comment on your sudden hesitation, you said, “I’m going to go take a shower.” They just nodded, letting you exit.

***

When you got out of the shower and back into the room the team had lent you and Bucky for the time being, Bucky was waiting patiently on the bed. You lingered around the space, picking out some pajamas to wear, acting as normal as you could. You took in the space, still amazed by it. It was fairly large with top-notch amenities, including a luscious bed, spacious dresser, and television from technology you weren’t sure existed for the general public. It even had access to your own grand bathroom, saving you some war flashbacks of the communal restrooms at college. 

You dipped back into the bathroom and got changed. While your intimacy with Bucky hadn’t been on the shy side, you weren’t in that kind of mood right now. Rightfully so, you would say.

Emerging once more, you noticed Bucky had made a sort of resting area for you on the bed. Your side was surrounded by blankets upon blankets and soft pillows. He even had a movie queued up for you two to watch. He laid waiting, his eyes practically begging you to come to him. After giving your hair a final wring, you gave in and crawled into the soft bed, letting all of you just melt into it.

“How are y-,”

“Bucky,” you sighed, turning towards him. He was laying on his side, staring down at your curled-up form. “Please don’t ask how I am.”

He nodded. “I get it, doll. I’m just worried about you. You seemed alright yesterday but today…” Yeah. You’d taken a dive. Your whole mood had shifted. Heck, your views on the world had shifted. As dramatic as it seemed, you were having a hard time snapping back. You weren’t even gone for over two days and yet the smallest thing...

“I think it’s just all settling in,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it was just shock yesterday or something but realizing what all happened… Gosh, this probably seems so foolish to you.”

Bucky began shaking his head profusely. As gently as he could, he took your hand in his. You welcomed the action as you shifted under the makeshift mountain of blankets. “Don’t do that, honey. Don’t try to dismiss it or think what you’re feeling is foolish. You went through something so terrifying. You’re allowed to react to it.” He took a deep breath. “When we talked yesterday, I think I thought maybe they hadn’t gotten to you. That nothing had happened that would leave you torn up but you saw… a lot.”

You knew he wasn’t talking about just being exposed to Hydra and their twisted selves. “I did,” you hesitantly agreed. “And I fear it’s going to take a lot to recover.” Your words felt like you were delivering punch after punch to Bucky but where were you going to get if you weren’t honest?

“Anything you need, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his thumb drawing soft patterns on the back of your hand, sending shivers through you. “I’ll do anything to make it better.”

You nodded, averting your gaze to where your hands were connected. Your hand was so tense but you hadn’t even realized you were squeezing his. You relaxed it slightly and Bucky’s motions stopped.

“Bucky,” you mumbled, “can I ask you something?”

He hummed in response.

“What do I offer you?”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes staring you down. No doubt a concerned frown was playing on his lips. “What are you getting at here, honey?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “When I was… you know… the - the older man said that he didn’t understand why we would be paired together. They were determined to figure out what I offer you. What makes me so special.” A beat. “I really don’t know the answer.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. You glanced up at him again, his eyes now holding a different kind of anger. You felt bad for doubting yourself but the insecurity from the words of some random guy settled into your brain. 

After a thoughtful moment, Bucky spoke, “I don’t think you’ll ever fully understand what you give, not just to me, honey, but the world. You’re so fearless. You’re incredibly understanding. Not to mention how compassionate and bright you are…” His voice cracked slightly, breaking your heart a little. “You force me to remember that I’m not alone and I don’t have to be. And I just really hope I do the same for you.”

You could feel your own tears forming as you shifted just a bit closer to your soulmate. You weren’t quite touching but you could still feel his presence. It was as comfortable as you could get right now and Bucky seemed to respect that. 

“I hope I’ll be okay,” you confessed. “Eventually.” 

It quite amazed you how fast stuff could change within yourself. You woke up from being rescued with the more extravagant hopes and overwhelming relief of just making it out alive. But then you remembered the price of you making it out alive. What you had to witness to get there. And then the thoughts of actually being back in that position rushed over you. Needless to say, it was weird. Simply weird. Unlike anything you had encountered before. 

Bucky soon nodded, encouragingly. You hated putting anything else on him but he had become part of the memories now. It was one thing to see him in dreams and another to watch it just feet away from you. 

With a choking sob, he said, “Me too, doll.”

[pastafossa]

thoughts on matt murdock having what seems to be a choking kink (in the show he always puts his hands on the throat of who he's kissing, and straight up chokes Elektra)

OK SO I WONDERED IF THIS WOULD COME UPPPPPP 🔥

cause Matty boy def seems to go for the neck. We got him kissing Claire with his hand on her throat, we've got him touching Karen's throat once or twice iirc, and we have him, yeah, looking like he's definitely at least flirting with a choking kink with Elektra (all hail that hand shot, fuck it was hot also MATT YOUR HANDS ARE HUGE CALL MEEEEEE) .

So even if he never fully progresses to choking, we know there's something there. He's got a throat/neck kink at the very least considering his pattern and how deliberate some of these shots are. I figure he does it for a couple reasons.

1. The neck and throat are rich with sensory feedback. So much life flows through the throat. You've got the airways, the vocal cords, pulse points, arteries, etc. And when Matt puts his hand there, he can feel all of it. He can feel every hitched breath, the way the heart races, every quiet moan, the way the blood pumps faster. I've headcanoned it's incredibly erotic to him being able to feel all of that (with his already sensitive hands) in addition to picking it up with his other senses, in the same way that those of us with sight might find it erotic to look at someone we're into who's turned on.

2. Vulnerability. Second headcanon I have is that Matt can be turned on by vulnerability in some scenarios. The neck, as previously stated, has so much life flowing through it, which makes it incredibly vulnerable. Matt's out there beating the shit out of people every night, so you trusting him enough to allow him access to such a vulnerable part of your body is equally arousing to him (and it's a reason I see him as also getting super turned on when he lets his partner touch, scratch, kiss, or - especially - bite/nip his throat. He's letting you touch a vulnerable part of him he should be protecting). Addtionally he likes to touch a vulnerable area like that to remind himself that his hands are capable of more than just violence, that he is capable of using his hands for pleasure, and that he can be trusted with something breakable. A way for him to say to himself and you, 'You can trust me to hold your life in my hands like this. I won't hurt you.'

3. I've honestly squinted at the Elektra scene a lot, trying to figure out if he was actually choking, or if he was just flirting (safely) with the threat of choking (like a little bit of, 'I could, if I wanted to, look how large my hand is around your throat'). Granted if there was anyone who could safely choke without doing harm, it's Matt, thanks to his senses. I could definitely see him squeezing a little if his partner was into it (Elektra I could easily see being into it), just enough to make breathing a little strained (though no further). I think he'd be just as happy not to choke, if his partner didn't like it.

So basically:

-Matt liking to touch and hold your throat: big fucking yes for him

-Matt stepping into actual choking: maybe, depending on if you'd want it

[starsstruck]

i just know that something good is going to happen.

part of the cloubusting universe. a continuation of the story of painter!harry and barista!mc. cold decembers baths, too hot baths, and even hotter confessions.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, sexual content words: 7.8k

series masterlist

a/n: hi. im back. this is just pure sweetness because why not. more will be coming from them, more from earlier on and later on in their relationship and time together💕 happy reading, hope everyone enjoys and please let me know what you think !💕💕

What time are you off ?

You glanced at the time after reading the text from Harry. The morning was incredibly slow, the drab December weather not enticing patrons to come out for a hot coffee.

3pm but I might be able to get out early

You saw the three little dots appear and disappear as Harry was typing, briefly glancing up at the door between looking down at your phone. As suspected, no one had walked in and no one needed anything from you.

I’m just heading home now Come by when you can x

Finding yourself smiling down at the phone, typing back a quick response before shutting it off and placing it back in your pocket to do some menial cleaning around the café to pass time.

Sounds good💕

Time flew by far too slowly. Three people came in between one and two o’clock, and you were left to mindlessly dust inside of cabinets and overstock the counters.

Saya was just as bored as you, the two of you chatting until you saw the clock hit 2:30 and decided that it was close enough for your time to head out. You had loose plans with Harry, him having asked you if you were free after work since he had the day freed up as well.

Which is why you now found yourself walking up the now very familiar steps to his place, finding his door propped open with a book for you.

You knocked once on the door just to let him know that you were there, before picking up the book and letting yourself in.

You saw Harry sitting by the large window, his back facing you. Still wrapped in your jacket, you hung the straps of your tote bag over the back of a chair and moved towards him. You were sure he heard you come in, how could he not have, but he still didn’t turn back to face you until you were standing behind him.

“Hi there,” he smiled with a quick tilt to his head. Your hands fell to his shoulders, leaning your front against his back as you hugged him from behind.

“What are you working on?” You hummed, chin resting against his shoulder. You didn’t get a chance to see what he was doing, as he quickly flipped close the two large sketchbooks he had in front of him.

“Secret,” he turned around on the chair, tilting his head as you quickly moved from his shoulder to avoid his chin hitting your cheek. “How was work?”

“Work was so slow – which I guess was okay. M’tired.”

Your arm circled around the back of his neck, as one of his own landed to your lower back, pulling you around him. Your lips brushed his temple.

“Lips are freezing,” he murmured, tugging you further into him until you were sat over his thighs. Keeping your arm around his neck as he held your back, he hugged you closer after you came in from the chilled December air. “Is it that cold out?”

You cozied in the warmth coming from him, even as you sat still wrapped in your thick coat. “The heaters are still broken at work.”

He titled his chin, lips brushing your cheek. “Are you still cold?”

You unwrapped your arms from around him, tugging at the buttons keeping your jacket together as you let it fall open. “Not as much,” you laughed lightly when his hand around you helped tug the thick coat off, neither of you caring when it hit the floor. “Just caught a small chill.”

He leant in closer as if pulled by an invisible force towards you, eyes locked. His lips nudged yours, catching them in a small kiss as you revelled in the warmth of his face. His cold fingertips brushing over his cheek, he pulled away with an overdramatic shiver. “You’re freezing.”

“Warm me up then,” you teased, as his grip tightened around you and his head dipped in to rest in the crook of your neck with a series of little pecks.

“I’m trying –” he muttered against your skin, before rising his head so that your eyes could once again meet. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, mindlessly tracing the patterns in the knit of his sweater.

You could practically see the strain in the muscles of his cheeks as he tried not to smile. “But I don’t think taking your clothes off is the answer right now.”

He pushed his cheek against yours, breath fanning over your ear. He kissed the corner of your jaw once more while his grip grew even tighter around your back so that you were completely flush against him.

You tapped your fingertips over his neck before muttering to no one in particular, “how’re you so warm all the time.”

He pulled his head back to face you once more, the tip of his nose gracing over your temple before puckering his lips over the same spot. Another kiss was pressed over your cheek, following the curve down until smooth lips captured your own.

Your fingers had moved up from his neck to his scalp, mindlessly trailing them through his hair. “How was your day?”

“Slow,” he nodded against you. “Went for a run, did laundry – that kind of day.”

You only hummed, a small silence falling over you as you embraced each other.

“I love…”

Harry shifted slightly from under you, his voice getting as he fell back into the crook of your neck. “I love the way you smell like coffee.”

His hot breath was felt when he spoke, nuzzling his nose over you for a moment before looking up towards you once again. You let out a soundless laugh, smiling down at him.

“Hm,” you could feel the hum come deep from his chest. He inhaled in an exaggerated way, bending his neck down so that his nose brushed along the exposed skin above the neckline of your sweater. “Smell like honey actually – like honey and jasmine.”

You let out a little laugh. “You’re saying I smell like coffee and tea?”

Although teasing, you were aware of the hint of jasmine in the perfume that was spritzed onto your neck earlier that day and almost surprised that he could tell what it was.

“I’m saying I love the way you smell.”

Even from the slight unfocused way you saw him, you watched the way his lips curved around the word “love”, unable to help noticing how often he used the word.

Not answering, instead you lowered your head to rest against his shoulder as you simply embraced each other for a moment. From the way your neck was titling, a small pain was starting to grow in the corner of your neck that had you having to pull away.

Rolling your head back on your neck in a feeble attempt to stretch out the kink, Harry’s fingers squeezed your hips.

“You okay?”

“Just sore.” The pain that you got from your ribs and shoulder only seem to grow instead of subside, new knots forming every week. “Keep forgetting to make an appointment at the physio.”

Harry hummed, watching as you unlatched one arm from around him to rub over your shoulder. “Take a hot bath – it’ll sooth your muscles and warm you up.”

“I don’t have a tub,” you watched him, “you know that.”

“That’s true,” he smiled. “But I do.”

The two of you had been together for just over two months, but he still blushed slightly as you held his gaze and rolled your lips in against your teeth.

“If you want – we don’t have to bathe together or anything if you don’t want to. Would be nice for your back though.”

You only smiled at your partner. “That sounds perfect, actually.”

For some reason, the idea of taking a bath with someone else was so extra intimate to you. Showers were one thing – whether Harry’s hands were lathering shampoo in your hair or pushing you against the tile, there was always something a bit quick and rushed about them.

Baths were slow, and peaceful, and had the sole purpose to sit and do nothing other than let yourself relax.

Harry had a surprising amount of bath products, not that it was news to you as you were already familiar with the contents of this washroom cabinets. You found a lavender bubble bath that you poured in, and some epsom salts that were scented with some fresh smelling essential oils.

Waiting for the tub to fill, you rubbed make up remover that you kept at Harry’s over your skin. Taking your time with the process, patting small layers of moisturizer over your newly washed faced.

Sweater was already sitting on the countertop, you did your skincare routine standing in your bra and jeans.

Your attention turned away from your reflection in the mirror when there was a soft knock on the door, followed by Harry speaking your name just loud enough to be heard over the crash of the water falling into the tub.

You giggled lightly as you turned the knob to open the door, endeared by the fact that he knocked first.

“I found these,” he stood at the door way, two little white candles in hand. “One of them smells like vanilla.”

You hummed in approval, grabbing hold of them, bringing both under your nose as the soft sweet smell surrounded you.

He smiled softly, eyes dropping down to take in the already relaxed state you seemed to have settled into. “Take all the time you want – I’ll start making something to eat.”

You furrowed your brow. “You’re not joining me?”

“Oh – figured you want some time alone, no?”

You shook your head, bottom lip between your teeth. “No. The water is hot, I put way too much bubble bath in – it’s the perfect recipe for a bath.”

He laughed, walking past the doorway to near you and wrapped an arm around your back so that you wouldn’t move back. “I think just being in there with you is enough of a selling point.”

A kiss was pressed to your nose, and then your lips, before the hands on your lower back were smoothing over your bare skin. You could feel his fingertips fiddling with the clasp of your bra, undoing the garment and letting it fall free from your body.

He moved away, just far enough so that he could pull the blue fabric off of you and he let his eyes trail over the skin that was just exposed to him. “I’ll go grab some towels.”

When Harry came back, you had fully stripped down and already settled into the tub. Your back resting against one side, water hitting just at the middle of your chest with bubbles sticking to the skin of your breasts.

The water was too hot, but in a good way. In the kind of way that you took a bit longer to fully settle yourself in, but once you were in you didn’t want to leave.

“How is it?”

You only hummed in response; eyelids half closed. You could still see him move around the small space of the bathroom, shutting the door and flicking a lighter until the wick of the candles was crackling. He turned off the overhead lights, eyes glancing at you as if to check if you were okay with it.

The melodic songs of Francoise Hardy filled the room, echoing nicely around you. You could hear him shuffling around, and you peaked an eye open to catch him just as he was tugging his sweater over his head.

He placed it next to your clothes on the counter, already pulling up the teeshirt he wore under it. His back was turned to you, the orange glow of the candlelight lighting up his skin. Every dip in muscles was accentuated with a deep shadow, and you shifted a bit in the tub to get a better view of him.

His baggy pants were easily kicked aside, and it was just as his thumbs were hooking into the elastic of his briefs that he caught your eye through the mirror. “Enjoying the view?”

“I am, very much so,” you watched the smirk pull on the corner of his mouth at your words.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he tugged the last piece of clothing off. He didn’t miss the way your eyes dropped, followed by you quickly looking away and shutting your eyes as if embarrassed to be caught staring. Although there was a smile that lingered on your lips, and the both of you knew that you were anything but embarrassed.

Your eyes only reopened when you heard a splash followed by a little hiss, and after peaking an eye open you saw him sitting at the edge of the tub with half a leg submerged in the water.

“It’s really hot,” he laughed a little, slowly sinking the other leg to join the other.  

“It’s nice,” you hummed, watching as he pushed himself off the edge and slowly eased into the tub. Sitting across from you, he extended his legs out.

Your limbs moved with a splash as you brought your knees to your chest, allowing him some room for his legs.

“Bring ‘em over here,” he hummed, a little wave of his hand as he motioned to your half-hidden legs. You placed them over his under the water, immediately feeling one of his hands gripping onto your calf to adjust you slightly.

He sank down against the back of the tub, settling in nicely. Your gaze remained on his, watching a little drop in his eyelids as he relaxed. “It is really nice.”

You opened your eyes further at his words, blinking some haze from your vision as you fully focused on him. “I should take baths much more often”

“Of course,” he continued, “it’s not the same when I’m alone.”

You couldn’t really see through the bath water given the amount of bubbles, but his hands never ceased moving over your legs. Small traces of fingertips mixed with the kneading into the skin, you found yourself subconsciously slipping deeper into the tub and closer towards him.

The peaceful silence settled around the two of you. The only sound was coming from the speaker, quiet lulling of the music fitting the mood perfectly.

Harry’s hand on your leg was mindlessly rubbing on your skin, dancing from your ankle to your knee with slow movements before repeating the same action on your other leg.

“Feels nice,” you murmured after a moment – a few seconds a few minutes, you had no idea.

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” you hummed, not missing the little twitch in his lip. “You know I love your hands.”

He laughed, thumb massaging into your calf. “And what else do you love about me?”

You knew he was teasing, but you felt your heart beat a bit faster in your chest. Only letting out a breathy laugh, giving him a shove with your foot before he joined in your laughter.

“You know,” he said, after a moment in silence. “I can try and massage some of those knots out your back if you’d like.”

“You think so?” You asked, even though you knew that he was probably right, you didn’t know why you’d never thought of it before.

He nodded. “Especially with your muscles all relaxed in this hot water.”

You didn’t need much convincing after that, the idea being one of the best you’d heard all day.

Turning a bit awkwardly in the tub, you moved until you were sitting between Harry’s legs with your back towards him. Rising your legs a bit, you leant forward on to rest your elbows on your knees so that you could expose more of your back.

With a splash in the water, Harry brought both arms out and placed his hands on either side of your back. His hands were warm, the entire bathroom was steamy and warm but Harry always seemed that much warmer.

You felt him trail his palms over the upper part of your back, gently pressing into your skin. He more or less knew where you had issues, but he wanted to feel it out first.

“It’s here?” He spoke, voice cutting though the comfortable silence after a moment as he gently pressed his fingertips under one of your shoulder blades.

You nodded, before speaking. “Yeah,” bringing one of your own hands around to press into a particularly tight spot just under your shoulder. “And here too, and then –” you moved your hand lower to the beginning of your ribs. “Here.”

He only hummed, both hands on one side of your back before he slowly pressed a thumb into the skin under your shoulder. You tightened your muscles on instinct, tensing up at the slight pain before willing yourself to relax back down.

“Relax, m’love,” he hummed into your ear, letting his lips brush over your neck before moving back again. You still hadn’t gotten used to the way he talked to you so affectionately, especially when he added “my” in front of his names for you. He really made you swoon in ways you had never thought possible.

You dropped your shoulder, doing your best to relax your muscles as much as they would allow. “Really tense,” he spoke again, few more seconds of rubbing into the knot.

It was already feeling a bit better, although the knot was tight and hurt when he applied more pressure you knew he could apply a bit more. “Can you press harder?”

He wordlessly followed your instruction, having your head dip down a bit until your chin hit your chest and your eyes were falling shut.

He massaged into your skin while slowly adding more pressure, both hands moving along the expanse of your back.

You hummed low in your throat when he pressed against the spot by your ribs. Shifting a bit in the tub, feeling Harry’s thighs squeeze your hips. “Is it okay?”

“Yeah,” your voice cracked, needing to pause to cough slightly before you spoke again. “Just a really sore spot.”

He didn’t say anything else from behind you, fingertips moving away from the spot for a moment. You could hear him shift in the tub behind you, water splashing as he readjusted himself.

Feeling a very light pressure, one that that wasn’t his fingers but rather his lips against the knot in your back as pressed a gentle kiss on your sin.

He pressed another, and another before his hands were back on the spot, tightly kneading into the skin. “Feels good?”

You only nodded with a hum, as he continued to work on the spot with the occasional kiss to your skin.

Minutes passed, and you were slowly relaxing further against him. Your legs unfolding and extending forward, feeling Harry’s legs on your side close you in further. Although there was still a small distance kept between your back and his front to make room for his hands, you found yourself shifting closer to him.

His hands moved around your sides, thumbs pressing gently into the sides of your breasts. He was kissing over every place his fingertips touched on your back, soft hums against your skin as his chin nudged your spine.

He rested his chin over your shoulder, cheek nudging your neck as he muttered close to your ear.

“Feeling better?”

You again had to clear your throat before speaking. “Feels a lot better thank you,” you hummed, turning your head slightly to catch the corner of his grin in a kiss.

He clicked his tongue. “No, no I’m not done.” His hand moved to your jaw, gently turning your head back to face forward once more.

You laughed lightly, following his order and facing the off-white tile of the wall in front of you.

Though he said he wasn’t done, he didn’t start to massage into your skin right away. Instead you felt his lips press on the crook of your neck, moving down to your shoulder as he trailed a series of kisses down your skin.

“Mm,” he hummed, sound low in your ears. “I love how you still smell like coffee.”

“I do not,” you laughed softly, lifting your hands from under the water with a splash.

“Yes,” his mouth moved against the curve your shoulder, “you do.” His teeth nipped over your skin.

He sighed heavy in his chest, lips sliding over to the nape of your neck. “I love how you always get goosebumps,” he spoke quietly. “Even now in the steaming hot bath.”

Your shoulders shook slightly with a quiet laugh, knowing he was right that you often got goosebumps under his touch, not matter the temperature around you.

His hands slid down your shoulders and to your front, wrapping around your tummy and pulling your closer to him along the bottom of the tub. “I,” he sighed heavy again, chest rising over your back. “Love how you feel with me – can’t seem to get enough.”

His thumbs grazed the underside of your breasts. His lips were still against your skin, feeling them move as he spoke and pressed random kisses over your back.

He murmured your name, sounding so soft off his mouth and deep from his chest. Your head was spinning; you didn’t know if it was from the heat in the air, from the lack of hydration or from the words the man behind you was kissing into your skin.

“I love you.”

The words were quiet, so quiet that if you weren’t pressed against him you wouldn’t have heard it. He kissed a spot over your spine as he whispered the three little words, no doubt feeling every function of your body come to a stop.

This time he didn’t stop you when your head turned over your shoulder to face him.

He quickly spoke again. “I don’t expect you to say anything, I just –” he paused with a slow exhale, like he was letting go of everything he was possibly holding on to. “I just wanted to tell you.”

You shifted around, legs moving so that you could bend them and fully turn around in the space of the tub until your front was facing his.

He moved as well, allowing your space so that you could sit on his thighs in a straddle. Hands wrapped around your back under the water, holding you in place on top of him.

His eyes were intent on you, jumping between each of your eyes as he tried to gage any possible reaction you could have to his words.

There was a small furrow between his brows, one that you wanted to smooth your thumb over and kiss. Lifting both arms out of the water, you gently wrapped them around his neck to pull him in even closer.

“You do?”

You felt drunk on him. The slight teasing tone in your voice wasn’t completely on purpose, you couldn’t help the words tumbling from your mouth.

Though, Harry laughed. A small laugh that came from his chest, as that furrow between his eyebrows disappeared and a smile graced his mouth. He dipped his down forehead falling against your shoulder for a moment.

“I do,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the curve of your neck before lifting his head back up. “And I really – I really love you.”

Your shoulders dropped, letting go of tension you didn’t realize you were currently holding. His hands on your back squeezed your skin lightly, pulling your tighter against him.

Face nearing yours, you didn’t realize how close you had gotten as you were subconsciously leaning in closer with your eyes zeroed in on his.

Your voice came out a bit hoarse, a quiet little rasp from the back of your throat. “I love you too.”

His hands gripped your even tighter, causing you to shift over his thighs until your chest were fully pressed together. “Do you now?”

You wanted to laugh out loud, instead a quiet laugh shook through your chest as you felt your chest warm more than it already was. You pushed against him with your palms pressed flat above his chest. “Stop that.”

His hands slid lower on your back, squeezing the skin above your hips as he smiled wide. “Tell me again.”

“No,” you dipped your face against his shoulder, cheek pressed into his neck.

“Tell me,” he chuckled, gripping the soft skin of your hips with a nudge of his chin over your temple. “I wanna hear you say it again.”

You peppered a light kiss over his collarbone. One hand moved up his chest, cupping his jaw loosely as you pulled away from the curve of his neck. Not saying anything, you met his happy eyes with your own while following the curve of his cheek with your thumb.

Brushing over his skin, the tips of his hair falling forward ticking your hand as it moved up his jaw, parted fingers weaving through his hair. Your other hand repeating the same motion, this time lightly moving your thumb over his pinkened lips, keeping a firm hold of his jaw.

You pushed moved yourself closer to him once again, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. His lips instantly puckered with yours, eyes falling shut when he moved to meet your mouth.

He kissed you lightly, although the firm hold that he had around your hips told a different story. Moving you closer to him, your knees readjusting under the water as they planted firmly against the smooth white of the tub.

Hips jutting into his, you gripped him tighter. Your lips parted with a subtle smacking sound that would have been inaudible to anyone else, kissing one, two, three more times on his mouth before whispering, “I love you.”

You felt his lips turn up against yours, his cheeks rounding under your fingertips.

One of his hands rounded around the back of your neck, pulling you back in to kiss him deeply. His tongue easily met yours as you sighed into his mouth, twisting your fingers through his hair. He quietly whispered your name against your lips, licking over your lips gently before pulling you in for another kiss.

Your hands now slid down his shoulders, down his chest under the water in the tub. You felt him shiver against you, unsure if it was at the affect of your touch on him or of the cooling water of the tub Your mouths parted with a wet smack, his lips nudging the underside of your jaw as he nipped at the sensitive skin.

Your own lips were resting against his temple, hands circling around his hips as you could feel his hardening length pressing into your thigh.

“You’re hard,” you observed, mumbling into his skin.

He laughed lightly, voice sounding a little breathless. “I got the most gorgeous girl sitting on my lap, telling me she loves me,” he pulled you forward, causing the water around you to splash against the side of the tub. “How could I not be?”

You giggled against his skin, letting him tug you closer until the bubbles stuck to your skin were getting squished between the both of your chests. Moving one of your hands from his hips to land it gently under the way over top of his thigh, letting your nails dig gently into his skin.

Lips slid against each once again, a bit more fire under your actions as your tongue slid against his and your chests heaved with heavier breaths. You could tell that he was extremely aware of the soft brushes of your fingers over his thigh, as you slowly inched your palm higher up.

You could hear his breath hitch and his mouth slack over yours when your hand slipped up to grab a light hold of his cock. Simply holding him in your hand for a beat, letting your lips fall from his mouth down to his jaw, before licking wet stripe under his earlobe. He was leaning into your touch, chest falling against yours as his arms wrapped tighter around your lower back.

His legs jolted slightly when you stroked your hand over him, his knees rising with a small bend in his legs that had you falling into him even more. He brought one of his hands from your back and up from under the water, taking a light hold of your chin to tilt your head back up to his.

His mouth was on yours in a matter of seconds, biting into your bottom lips before kissing your deeply. You tugged on his length from under the water, thumbing over his tip as circled around him. Your hand falling over him again, applying more pressure when he moaned quietly against you.

“Fuck,” he called softly, as you kept working your hand over him. Moving away from you again, he leant against the back of the tub with a blissed out smile over his lips and heavy eyelids. “That feels good.”

You leaned in to him, kissing over the skin of his neck that was newly exposed to you. “Good,” you breathed over his neck, your thumb following the vein that ran on the underside of him. “I love making you feel good.”

Leaning forward to kiss over his collarbone, tasting the slight remains of soapy bubbles on his skin as your lips moved over him. You grazed your fingertips along his sensitive skin, as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into your hand, soft moan coming from his throat.

His fingertips dug into your skin. “Do you,” he breathed. “D’you want to get out of the tub? The water’s getting cold.”

You hummed against him, not stopping the motions of your hands under the water. “What do you say we do after then?”

A quick tug at your hips had him bringing your attention back to his face. One of his hands nudged the bottom of your chin, further tilting your head up to his. “Going to take you to bed.”

You were both quick, not too quick as to not slip on the bottom of the tub, to get out and drain the water. Harry had wrapped a big warm towel around your shoulders, rubbing at your arms as he hugged you from behind.

His hips were pressing tightly into your backside, a quiet grunt was heard from him as you pushed back into his hardening cock. With his arms around you, he dipped his head down to quickly find your neck with his lips, gracing it with a smattering of kisses.

“Harry,” you murmured, tightening the towel around your shoulders. Watching him through the mirror, you brought a hand up to brush through his hair. “Harry,” you called, tugging lightly on the strands to get his attention.

“Sunshine,” he mumbled against the skin of your neck, arms tightening around your middle. You felt him pressing hard against your bum, teeth nipping into your skin over your shoulder.

“Thought you said something about taking me to bed.”

He took you off guard, spinning you around in his arms so that your backside was pressed against the ledge of the bathroom counter. He glanced at you with a glint in his eyes. “We have to get dried off first.”

His hands rested over yours, easily having you release the towel from your hold as instead he grabbed the soft material. Dragging the fabric over your back, letting the front fall open as his gaze fell along with the towel.

Bending at his knees slightly, dipping his head down to kiss over water drops that were running down your chest. You held your breath, already feeling wetness pool where you knew he was headed, and you were growing slightly impatient.

He fully dropped down to his knees, letting the towel fall down to your legs along with him. His towel covered hands ran along your calves, moving up over your knees in small motions. You glanced down at him, watching as he focused on ever small drop of water covering your skin.

“So soft,” he murmured, one hand skimming and pulling over the skin of your thighs. He brought his other hand with the towel to brush over the swell of your ass, gripping and releasing the skin a few times in his hand before letting the towel fall to the ground and wrapping both hands around your hips.

You couldn’t keep your eyes away from him, surprisingly not feeling cold as you usually did when you got out of a bath or shower. He wrapped a hand around your hip to pull you closer to him, one of your hands still resting against the bathroom counter. His other hand slowly smoothed around your inner thigh, pulling on the soft flesh as he prompted you to part your legs wider for him.

He leaned in closer, pressing a single kiss to your inner thigh with lingering lips. The simple motion had you in a frenzy, your heart starting to beat faster in your chest as you could practically hear his thought process.

In the time you had been together, although still quite short, you had quickly learned Harry’s affinity for getting a taste of you. Whether it was slow and deep as he edged you on, or quick and wet to bring you to a quick orgasm, he seemed to continuously enjoy going down on you.

Which was no surprise when he glanced up at you with a stupid little smile, telling you “I think I have to dry you off with my mouth.”

The comment was a completely ridiculous concept, but you didn’t have a chance to tell him as he nudged you against the counter, keeping your thighs parted with one hand and leant in to plant a kiss over your clit.

Wrapping a hand around your thigh, with the other pushing against your folds to part them further as he teased over you with his fingertips. Kissing over you once more, his tongue poked out from parted lips to flick over the sensitive bit of nerves.

You knew you were wet, had been before he had touched you and obviously, he knew it too, but it still sent a warmth through your tummy when Harry muttered “don’t think you’re just wet from the bath, angel.”

You whined into the air, not having the capacity to think of anything to say back to him as he licked over your slit, finding wetness pooling at your entrance. You jolted under his touch when he moved his tongue back up to your clit, lips circling around it with light flicks with the tip of his tongue.

A hand landed in his hair, gripping on his tightly when he dragged his fingers around your sensitive inner thigh and to where you wanted to feel them. As much as he liked to get a taste of you, he liked to tease you.

Keeping light movements over your clit, his tongue darted down to circle around your entrance once more with a muffled moan when you whined his name. Pulling back for a second, be placed a light kiss over your clit as you spoke a broken call for him once again, before he was pushing a finger inside of you.

As much as he liked to tease you, he loved to give you what you wanted just as much.

It was rushed, and messy, and just like two people who wanted to feel the other as much as they could, far too desperate for the other.

He had you gripping the countertop tightly with on hand, the other hanging on for dear life in his hair. You could feel the beginning of the burn in the pit of your stomach, and you tugged on him just a bit harder to grab his attention. “Harry,” you whined, repeating his name again.

Humming against you, he moved his mouth over to the fleshy inside of your thigh and bit over the skin with a wet kiss. “What’s that?”

“Take me to bed,” you breathed, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you. “Fuck me.”

He gazed up at you for a moment, dark eyes meeting yours before peppering another kiss over your thigh. Moving up slightly, slowly lifting himself from his spot kneeled between you. Grazing light touches over your hipbone, over your stomach, over your breast.

Pressing your palms against his shoulder, pushing him back slightly as you searched for one of his hands to grab. He easily complied to you as you pushed off the counter, sidestepping Harry as you pulled him by the arm.

He wrapped that arm around your chest, standing behind you as he let you lead him out of the washroom. Walking you to his bed with his arm swung around your front, keeping your back pressed closely against him while messily kissing the side of your face.

Blindly finding his bed, you turned and fell out of Harry’s grasp as you let yourself fall onto the soft comforter. You were both slightly damp, but neither of you cared.

Moving until your head rested by the pillows at the head of the bed, Harry didn’t follow over you right away, and instead walked around the mattress to stand by the side.

“C’mere,” you spoke quietly reaching out to grab hold of his hand.

He met the edge of mattress as you pulled him closer to you, wanting to feel him over you. He held your gaze with a slight grin, biting his lips before leaning down towards you and murmuring, “not going to fuck you,” his breath sent goosebumps all over your neck. “Gonna make love to you.”

“Come here.” You repeated, grabbing his hand and tugging him down as he let out a small laugh while he fell over you. His lips landed over the crook of your neck, as your legs parted to make room for him over you.

“That’s it,” he hummed over your skin, pushing his hips against yours as his lips danced over your skin and his hands roamed your sides. “D’you want me like this?”

You whined into the air, his palm smoothing over your breast as he pinched your nipple between his fingers and brought his mouth to yours.

“Yes,” you paused, hugging his waist with your thighs as you hooked a leg over his ass to push him further against you. “Just like this.”

His lips fell from your mouth, forehead pressing into your cheek. You could feel him over your folds, nudging his hips up so that his tip pushed over your clit. Involuntarily spreading your thighs wider for him, you whimpered at the light contact.

Impatient, you brushed your hand down from his shoulder and over his hips, reaching for his cock between the two of you to help slip him in. Rising his head from the crook of your neck, he glanced at you with a lazy smirk when you gripped his length in your palm.

Running him over you, you let one of your knees hit the mattress as he slowly inched inside of you. Each letting out sounds in unison; you a breathy moan at the feeling of him filling you and him a quick grunt as he bucked into you.

“Every fuckin’ time,” he groaned, lips mouthing against your jaw.

He gripped your thigh in one hand, fingertips digging into the skin as he hooked your leg tighter around him. Hugging him with your legs, you urged him to keep moving as the slow grinds into your hips were driving you crazy.

He seemed to feel the same way, pulling back and fucking into you harder each time. He had your head nudging the pillow under your head, your fingers holding on for deal life in his hair and you were moaning up against his jaw.

He was unable to go long without having his mouth on yours, stealing sloppy kisses as his hips pumped into yours with muttered praises along the lines of “such a pretty cunt,” and “taking me in so good.”

The way his lips grazed over your earlobe as he spoke, the way he let you hear every moan and whimper that left his lips, the way he spoke to you with a deep low drawl made you whine into the air with nothing but desire for him.

Having him so desperately and passionately made you feel drunk, like you were going to float off the bed. That is, if the feeling of your hips digging into the mattress with ever pound of his hips, and his weight over and inside of you was not making you bite your lip so hard at the sheer intensity of it.

“You feel good?” He posed it as a question this time, lifting his head from where he was biting into your neck as his nose nudged yours.

You repeated his words from before with a nod, a throaty moan when you met his eyes. “Every time.”

He groaned over you, catching your mouth in a kiss. “Love fucking you –”

You were pushed up on the mattress again, the pillow bending oddly under your head but it was the last thing on your mind right now. His hand smoothed over the side of your face, caressing your forehead lightly – a contrast to the fast and sinful pumps of his cock inside of you.

Blinking your eyes shut, you were surprised to find a damp coldness caught in your eyelashes. Realizing the small tears – only out of happiness – lining your waterline as you quickly blinked again.

He stole a kiss from your mouth, as you lifted your head up to meet him hallway. “Love making love with you –”

His hand left your hair, instead reaching up to grip the headboard with a quick desperation. Your head fell back against the pillow, a strangled moan past your lips as all you could do was nod in agreement. You raised your hand from his shoulder, reaching back as you blindly searched for where his hand had his tight hold over the worn wood. Covering the pack of his hand with your palm, both of you holding for dear life as you grew more desperate to cum.

“Oh –” you arched your back against him, meeting his movements halfway. His other hand was still holding a firm hold around your thigh, hitting a new deepness when your hips met up with his. “Like that – again.”

“Yeah?” His breath fanned over your chinned, his hair falling down over his forehead as his pace was unrelenting. “Wanna give it to you – fuck,” he cut himself off, feeling you squeeze him tighter. “Please tell me your close.”

You dug your nails into the skin of his back, calling his name into the air as his lips found your neck. “Yeah,” you voice was breathy, distant. “Just a bit more.”

He was hitting the perfect spot inside of you, repeatedly making you see stars. His hand unwrapped from your hip, sneaking between both your bodies as his fingers quickly found your clit. Collecting wetness from where you connected, then met the sensitive bundle with messy but effective strokes.

You loved every kind of sex with him – slow and passionate or like now, quick and both desperate for each other that neither of you cared it didn’t take very long to get there.

You were pushing your hips to his, gripping for dear life on his hand over the headboard while call after call of his name left your mouth.

“Love you,” he whimpered, lifting his head with a nudge of his chin over yours. “I love you.”

You felt as if your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. He felt so incredibly deep and close to you. Confessions of love over your mouth had your stomach flip and your core clenching around him. You realized you had never had a partner tell you they loved you during sex, you had never felt this intimately close to anyone in your life.

“Love you more –” the end of your sentence was cut off by your own moan.

Meeting your release around him, whimpering his name against his skin as he was unrelenting over you. Your hips bucked with his movements, pushing yourself against his hand that paid attention to your clit. It was all for too overwhelming, mixed with the confessions of love that ran through your head.

Your motions were getting slower, the hard pumps of his hips over yours the last bit of what he needed. Barely getting the chance to warn you, a quick breath of “I’m coming –” over your ear before he was pushing everything he had inside of you.

His hand let go of the headboard along with yours, flipping your palm in his to interlocked your hands over the duvet cover. He was muttering endless praise to you, endless breaths of your name as you both came down from your highs together.

With his chest pressed against yours, he gazed up at you with heart shaped eyes. He bit his smile down, a little laugh leaving past his lips as you raised a hand from his bicep to push his hair out of his face. You kissed his smile, his mouth easily opening for you as you both savoured the other in a brief calm moment.

He kissed the side of your cheek, leaving a small trail as he kissed over the corner of your eyes, not doubt noticing the small wet patches from the small tears that escaped your eyes in the overwhelming intimacy.

He didn’t say anything right away, but you could see the corners of his lips curve to a light smile. “You okay?”

A slow nod, you took a heavy swallow to help your dry throat before speaking. “Yeah, I just,” you paused, searching for the right words. “It’s never been like that. I’ve never… felt like that.”

He was silent for a moment, watching you intently. “In a good way,” you quickly added. “In the best way.”

“I know,” he muttered against your mouth, pushing himself up over you as you unhooked your ankles from around his thighs to let him move off of you. Withdrawing from inside of you, you could already feel him making a small mess over the crest of your thighs but you didn’t care, that was a problem for later.

You let out a breathless sigh, grazing his cheek with your fingertips as you watched his eyes flick over every inch of your face. Slowly lowering his face once more, pressing a soft but firm kiss over the corner of your lips.

He fell to his side, lying on his hip with his up half still supported over top of you. “Think I love you even more after that.”

[plant-flwrs]

Can I request a ilvermorny transfer x one of the twins? I think it'll be cool if she wore roller skates to school (charmed by yours truly) since it's the 90s and she's cool but super sweet and caring - maybe when they invite her over to the burrow for the summer or their birthday she can give them a pair? Thanks ily!!!

roller skates // fred weasley 

masterlist!

a/n: ok i always feel bad when my fics take so long to set up and theres barely any like actual romance and i am trying to work on it. i think its hard for me to go into a fic where a relationship is already established, so i like writing them coming together and the immersion of it. but i hate reading fics where it takes forever to get to the good parts so just know that i will be trying to work on that flaw in my writing! thanks so much for reading! (i made the reader from florida just because my mind blanked on any other places that don’t have snow lol, but it’s not really relevant in any other situations so ignore it if u please) also just realizing all of my summaries sound scary and ominous also just realizing how i say way too much in these author notes im so sorry bye

summary: The American transfer student draws attention to herself with her accent, but Fred is drawn to something else about her.

(10.4k hehe sorry :D)

-----

Looking around at the students bustling past you, the only word you could think of was “proper”.

Looking down at your muggle clothes, loose and mismatched, your hair resting naturally, the only word you could think to describe yourself with was “improper”.

A boy with a permanent scowl and striking blond hair glanced your way, and the taller adults behind him followed his eye line. The three of them looked you up and down and their mouths all distorted into nasty grimaces. You felt your father’s comforting hand clasp over your shoulder, trying to help you remember everything he had said to you before arriving at King Cross Station.

“They aren’t that different from us,” he repeated, and you could tell he was doubting himself as he glanced at the uptight children and their matching parents.

He guided you forwards, and you pushed your large cart in front of you, navigating through the crowd. It started to separate around you, and even more odd glances were thrown your way. You supposed you should have felt a little insecure- you looked quite out of place- but the feeling could not overwhelm the excitement you felt. You had read all about Hogwarts, its history, its architecture, and you even picked up a few books about muggle London.

You were stood in your father's embrace, about to board. Your things were stored away, and you heard the train roaring louder and louder. You glanced around, the fathers in their dress shirts and ties, mothers in long skirts and blouses. Their children wore sweaters and jeans, or suit jackets and dress pants.

Something caught your eyes, though; a few feet away there was a large family, mingling in embraces. They all had flaming red hair, and their clothes looked like yours. In fact, your clothes resembled the oldest woman’s clothes, mismatched and colorful. Her eyes watered, and she smoothed down the hair on a fidgeting boy.

“Ronald, hold still!” she shouted at him, and he reluctantly allowed his mother to soothe his red hair down into a part on the side.

Once the woman had moved onto another child, Ronald roughed his hair back to the mess it was before. The woman now clutched a smaller boy, who looked like he was Ronald’s age, by the shoulders. She moved a hand to soothe his unruly hair off his forehead. Your eyes widened when you saw the lightning bolt on his forehead.

The books you had bought about the English Wizarding World did not neglect to mention the boy who lived. Elbowing your father, you both cast glances at the family. Your father nodded his head, looking impressed at the sight of Harry Potter.

“Thanks again Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, and it sounded like he had said it millions of times before.

Mrs. Weasley waved off the two boys, who went to gather a girl with large bushy hair.

“Come on ‘Mione! We’ve got to get a good compartment,” Ronald said impatiently, tugging the girl's arm onto the train.

Mrs. Weasley was left with four other children. One of them looked like all the other proper British people you had seen at the station, a permanent sneer on his face. He shook his head stiffly at his mother and shook his father’s hand. You thought it was quite odd, and two identical boys standing with the family couldn’t contain their laughter.

“Yes,” one of them started, doubling over in a bow, “good day, mother,” he said pompously, imitating his brother.

“May you have a wonderful few months,” the other started, moving to shake his father’s hand as his brother had moments ago, “I’ll be looking for your owl,” he said, sounding incredibly posh.

The younger girl, with the same fiery hair, began to giggle, earning a scowl from the eldest brother as he boarded the train.

The girl pulled her mother in for a hug, and then her father, and waved to them fervently as she followed after her brother.

“You boys, stay out of trouble!” Mrs. Weasley said to the remaining twins, waving a finger at them.

“We always do, mum,” one said, and it was obvious by his tone that they didn’t often stay out of trouble.

They waved to their parents at the same time, stepping onto the train with a certain enthusiasm.

You averted your gaze, looking anywhere but at the family you had been staring at. You looked up at your father, hugging him one last time. When you pulled back, you heard his name being called.

“Mr. Y/n?” the voice called out, approaching the two of you.

It was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley already had his hand stuck out to your father.

“I’m Arthur Weasley, I’ve been the one to hire you at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry. This is my wife, Molly. Funny to meet you here,” he said politely, looking at you and your father in a nicer way than any other wizard had during your time at the station. His eyes didn’t wander down to your brightly colored shoes, or your patterned pants, and he didn’t even cast a second glance at your oversized, offensively colored sweater. You beamed at him.

“Oh! Yes, it’s great to meet you,” your father said, shaking his hand. He squeezed your shoulder, jostling you a bit, “This is my daughter, Y/n.”

“Oh, would you hear that accent, Arthur!” Molly gasped, smiling as if she was astonished. Your father chuckled at her reaction. You supposed it would happen to you a lot at Hogwarts.

They both smiled at you, and Arthur offered you his hand to shake. You held your hand out, but the sleeve of your sweater swallowed the limb. You shook the extra clothing away, and Molly chuckled. Finally shaking his hand, you held it out to Molly. She bypassed your hand and began to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, accomplished, at you.

“Better get her going,” your father said, and the Weasleys nodded at you.

“Have a good term, dear,” Molly said to you, patting your shoulders the way she had done to Harry.

“Thank you,” you repeated, moving past them and heading onto the train.

You waved one last time at your father, and the door closed behind you.

You wandered down the isles, looking for an empty place to sit. You pretended to look like you knew where you were going, hoping fewer people would stare at you if you did. Your plan didn’t work, and you caught the eyes of almost everyone you passed.

You had made it to the end of the train, and your eyes peered into the last cabin. It was empty except for a girl and a boy. They seemed friendly enough, so you slid open the door.

“Mind if I sit with you guys?” you asked, and the boy looked at you quizzically when he heard your voice.

“Not at all,” the girl said.

She had strikingly blonde hair and gray eyes that poured deeply into you. She had a faint smile on her lips, and her head was cocked to the side.

“I’m Luna Lovegood,” she said, and her voice was light and airy, “This is Neville Longbottom.”

The boy shifted in his seat, casting a shy glance at you. He raised a shaky hand and gave you a curt wave.

You smiled widely at the two of them, glad you seemed to have picked the right place to sit.

The train ride went fast enough. Luna asked you all sorts of questions about America, and you asked her all sorts of questions about England. When Neville warmed up to you, he asked some questions about Ilvermorny. They asked what house you had been in there, and you told him you were a Thunderbird, the soul of the witch.

“Where do you reckon she’ll be sorted into here?” Neville asked Luna. You leaned forwards, curious for the answer.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, peering into a magazine she had balanced into her lap, “but if I’m lucky, it’ll be Ravenclaw.”

“Which one is Ravenclaw?” you asked, trying to remember what you had read.

“The wise and witty,” Luna said, moving her robes to show the crest on it. It was blue with a bird over it.

“A raven, clever,” you said, looking closer at Neville’s red-trimmed robes.

“You’d think,” he said, “but it’s an eagle. I’m a Gryffindor, we’re meant to be brave but,” he trailed off, and Luna placed a comforting hand on his arm.

“Oh, stop it, Neville,” she said gently, her gaze back onto you, “there's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

You nodded, recalling what little you read.

“My dad said he figured I would be a Hufflepuff. The Ministry told him he was a Ravenclaw, he had to do the silly sorting hat and everything,” you said, and Neville smiled at you.

“Hufflepuff? They’re quite nice, I suppose,” he said, sounding disappointed that you weren’t in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.

“Well, we won’t know for sure,” Luna said, closing her magazine, “until-” but the train’s brakes began to screech.

Her smiled widened, and you looked down at your robes you had changed into. Maybe now people would be less inclined to stare, you thought.

You were right, but only briefly. Once you had gotten to the Great Hall, you were shuffled in with the first years. Your face burned a slight red the whole time, your larger and older stature standing out amongst the sea of younger students. Your name was called, and you heard a faint whooping coming from the table of red.

You glanced at it, seeing Neville lowering a cheering fist from the air. He looked around nervously, and you saw one of the Weasley twins glancing at his quizzically. You smiled at Neville’s support and sat in the stool.

An old and tattered hat was lowered onto your head, and suddenly it began speaking in your ear.

“Hm, very interesting. You’re not from here, that’s obvious,” it spoke quickly, echoing in your skull, “but I think the choice is simple. I’d say,”

Suddenly the voice left your skull and boomed into the room, for everyone to hear.

“Hufflepuff!”

Cheers from a table full of yellow sounded off, some raising from their seats and clapping for you. You beamed, moving off the stool and skipping cheerfully towards the table. You walked down the aisle between the red and yellow, and Neville’s hand stuck out at you.

“Congratulations!” he said excitedly, holding his hand up for a high five.

You hit his hand, and he waved you off.

A girl with a yellow tie and dark hair waved you over. She inched over, giving you room to sit with her.

“I’m Sarah, happy to have you in Hufflepuff!” she beamed, and you didn’t think you would ever get used to the British accents.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you watched her eyes widen at the sound of your voice, “I’m Y/n.”

“You’re American! You must have come from that American school, what’s it called, Ilmorny?” she asked, ducking her head and whispering as the sorting continued.

“Ilvemorny,” you corrected her, still smiling.

Sarah asked you a lot of the same questions Neville and Luna had asked, but you didn’t mind answering them. She had even offered to give you a tour of the school tomorrow, with the promise that you would choose the bed next to her’s in the dorm.

Sarah had lived up to her promise. You walked with your head permanently tilted upwards, admiring the greatness of the castle. Sarah ate with you at every meal and even insisted on walking you to your classes until you knew the way on your own. She had been so nice to you, and when Luna told you about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, you knew you had to ask her to go with you.

The two of you walked through the snow, wrapped up in matching yellow and black scarves. She had linked her arm with yours and pulled along to all her favorite shops.

The two of you ducked into The Three Broomsticks, sick of the ice sticking to your face.

You saw a red scarf and a blue scarf sitting at a table, and when you saw the flow of blonde hair peeking from the blue one, you knew who it was. You pulled Sarah over to Luna and Neville, and Neville told you to pull up two chairs. You introduced Sarah to Luna and Neville.

“We’re just waiting for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to meet us,” Neville said, smiling cheerfully.

“Oh, should we go?” you asked, offering to free up your chair.

“No, no, stay,” Luna urged you, pulling your arm back down, “I’ll introduce you.”

This was how you were going to meet Harry Potter, you thought, huddled up at a small table, drinking a foamy beverage that left a little white mustache on your upper lip.

Harry was just like every other kid, and he was with the people you had seen at the station that day.

“What did you say your last name was?” Ron asked, leaning over the table so you could hear him.

“Y/l/n,” you said.

“Does your dad work for the Ministry?” he asked, and you nodded, “Our dads work together!” he said, elbowing Harry.

“Her dad is the bloke my dad was raving about all summer, the guy from America,” Ron said to Harry, and Harry nodded at you.

“What a coincidence,” you said, dipping your head to take another sip of the drink Sarah had ordered you.

You all fell into a natural conversation, and Hermione asked to switch seats with Sarah at one point. Sarah had no protests, filing easily into the seat next to Harry, glancing at him dreamily.

“Will you tell me about America? I’ve been to other parts of Europe for holidays, but never America. What’s it like? How different are the wizards?" Hermione sounded off questions like she had them rehearsed, but you were happy to answer them.

You and she were in a fit of laughter after she had told you about her parents’ reaction to her letter. Your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, as Hermione recounted her mother’s jumping up and down.

You were so involved with your conversation with Hermione, you hadn’t noticed Ron’s brothers come into the restaurant.

“Hello, Ickle Ronniekins,” one of them teased, messing a hand through Ron’s overgrown hair, “when are you gettin’ a hair cut?”

“Mum’s gonna cut it all off the second you get home,” the other said, pulling a chair in between Luna and Ron. The other pulled a chair in between Harry and Sarah, and you didn’t miss Sarah’s annoyed sigh at the interruption.

You and Hermione were recovering from your laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing heavily.

“What’s so funny ladies?” one of them said, shoving Ron aside so he could rest his elbows on the table.

“Just telling Y/n about how my parents reacted to my letter from Hogwarts,” Hermione sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You’re the famous Y/n?”

“The American?”

Ron elbowed each of his brothers in their sides, frowning at them.

“That’s me,” you answered cheerfully, smiling at them, “Are you Ron’s brothers?”

“More like,” one of them started.

“Best friends,” the other finished.

“He really would be nowhere if it weren’t for us,” they said at the same time.

A smile slid across your face; it was easy to smile around your new friends, you found.

Hogwarts was better than you could have ever hoped. You wrote to your father nearly every week, recounting the amazing things you had done with Sarah, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The seven of you were becoming inseparable.

Luna’s blue tie dangled over your face as you lay on her lap, she was trying this odd head charm she had read about in the Quibbler. Your head rested in between her legs, back on the ground. Her skinny fingers were pressed to your temple, and they hesitantly pressed into your skin.

“Is that right?” she asked, consulting the cartoon pictures that moved on the Quibbler laying next to her.

“I don’t reckon, it doesn’t feel like anything’s happening,” you said, sitting up and rubbing where Luna’s fingers had been.

“Neville,” Luna said, motioning him over. His face grew white as she pulled him into him, moving to where you had been. Luna’s fingers pressed against Neville’s head, and his eyes fluttered closed. Luna began to hum to herself, and Neville smiled.

You crawled over to sit by Ron under the tree. Sarah was talking to Harry, her eyes dazed over as he gently brushed off a leaf that had fallen on her shoulder. Hermione was near, her head resting on her bag, laying on her back with his legs crossed. She was deep into a muggle book you recognized, and you couldn’t blame her for not wanting to put it down.

“Hi, Ron,” you snapped him out of his thoughts, ending his obvious staring at Hermione, “enjoying the weather?”

“Yeah, it’s just about my favorite time of year,” he said, twisting a blade of grass in his fingers.

The snow had melted, winter break had ended. Ron was able to shed his mother's heavy knitted sweaters and wear some of his more comfortable shirts.

“I quite liked the winter,” you said, your head leaning against the tree, “it was my first time seeing snow.”

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell us that?” Ron asked, seeming bewildered.

“Don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling at him.

“Hermione! Oi, Hermione! Y/n had never seen snow before she came here,” Ron said, calling out to Hermione.

“I know, she’s from Florida,” Hermione said, uninterested, head still buried in her book.

“Florida? Why didn’t I know that?” Ron asked, feeling out of the loop.

“Don’t know,” you repeated, shrugging again.

“Because you don’t ask, Ron,” Hermione said, sounding unpleased with Ron’s loud volume.

You stifled a laugh, but Ron looked at you, feeling guilty.

“Hermione’s right, I guess,” Ron said, casting a sad glance at you.

“It’s alight, Ron, I won’t hold it against you,” you reassured, and Ron perked up a little.

“Tell me one thing no one else here knows about you,” Ron said urgently. To this, Hermione closed her book and lay it on her chest, interested in what you were going to say.

You thought about it. You didn’t have anything to hide from your friends, but you felt yourself blanking on even the littlest fact about yourself. You tried to think of any special abilities you had, besides being a wizard, or any life events that were significant. The only thing you thought of was the hesitance you had when packing your trunk for school, debating on whether or not to bring your roller skates with you. Ilvermorny had allowed them, and you skated to nearly all your classes. The school's cold granite floors were just begging to be skated across, you had thought, and it was ten times faster than walking.

You thought about your skates, you missed them more than you thought you would. The white boots with slick, black wheels and rainbow laces were one of your most prized possessions. You wondered now, again, if you would have gotten in trouble for bringing your roller skates to school.

“Oh, alright, I’ve thought of something,” you began, and Hermione sat up a little, resting on her elbows.

“I really like to roller skate,” you said proudly.

“Roller skate?” Hermione and Ron repeated at the same time. Ron sounded confused, but Hermione sounded entertained.

“Yeah.”

“Like from the 80′s?” Hermione asked, still sounding entertained.

“They’re making a comeback,” you defended.

“What’s roller skate?” Ron asked, looking between you and Hermione.

“It’s like shoes with wheels on them,” Hermione said, used to having to explain muggle inventions her friend, “You tie them up and you skate around.”

“What do you do that for? Do they go really fast?” Ron asked.

“They can,” you said, “but it’s really just for fun. I used to take them with me to Ilvermorny and go to my classes on them, but I didn't know if Hogwarts allowed them.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Ron asked, “Are they dangerous?”

“They're not dangerous, I suppose you could fall on them, but it’s not as bad as that Quidditch game you guys play,” you explained, “I just didn’t know if Hogwarts allowed those kinds of muggle things.”

Ron and Hermione nodded, and Hermione looked to be in deep thought.

“I’m sure they would,” she said, returning back to her book.

“What do you reckon they’re doing down there?” Fred asked, looming over George’s shoulder as he held the Marauder’s Map in his hands.

“Do you think Ron’s finally gonna get a girlfriend?” George teased, looking at you and Ron sitting together under the tree.

Fred sneered at his brother. Ever since he had told George he thought you were cute, it seemed George wanted to push his buttons any way he could. He would make jokes about you and Ron flirting, and for some reason it made his blood boil. He hadn’t even spoken to you on more instances than he could count on a hand, but he was enticed by you.

Your eyes were always moving, and they were always wide with excitement. He thought you were beautiful, you were always wearing your muggle clothes when you didn’t have to wear your uniform. You dressed kind of like his mum, he realized one day, but in a cooler way. That’s the word, cool, he thought you were cool. You fit in easily with Ron’s friends, you could talk about anything, and you were always so sweet.

“Where are they going now?” George wondered out loud, watching the names on the map begin to move.

You got up and dusted off your pants, feeling the baggy jean material under your fingers. You helped Ron up, offering him a hand and pulling him off the ground. You, Ron, and Hermione trailed after Harry and Sarah, who trailed after Neville and Luna. You had all been feeling a bit warm outside, so you decided to go to the Gryffindor common room for the rest of the afternoon. You and Sarah were always excited to go to the Gryffindor common room, feeling it was a nice change from yours in the basement.

Fred’s eyes watched as you, Ron, and Hermione walked together towards the Gryffindor common room. He suddenly felt nervous, even though he was up in his dorm with George. He stood, and looked at himself in the mirror. He pulled down at the bottom of his shirt, tugging uncomfortably at the way it clung to his arms. He hadn’t been dressed to impress, and he usually didn’t, but at the sight of your name getting closer to his on the map, he ignored George’s torments and changed into nicer pants and a more flattering shirt.

Harry stepped passed Neville, who had forgotten the password, and held open the portrait for everyone as they stepped through. You, Sarah, Luna, and Hermione occupied the biggest couch in front of the fire, and Neville and Ron took the armchairs on either side of you. Harry sat on the floor in between Ron’s chair and where Sarah had sunk into the corner of the couch.

Sarah beamed at you, taking notice of the small action, and you wiggled your eyebrows back at her. She blushed and leaned over the side of the couch, resting her chin in her hand and starting a conversation with Harry.

Hermione pulled her book from her bag again, reading the pages eagerly. You and Luna sat shoulder to shoulder as Luna began to tell you about her plans for the summer.

“I think I’ll try to learn French,” she said, toying with some sunglasses she pulled from her pocket.

“You’re going to learn French?” you repeated, a smile pulling up your lips.

“I think so, might also help my dad with his plums,” Luna said, turning to you as she slipped on the sunglasses. They overcame her face, entirely oversized and wonderful. They were bright green and had purple lenses that were reflective. You could see your wide and amused smile in them.

“Your father grows plums?” you inquired, always enjoying conversation with Luna.

“Yes, they’re Dirigible Plums.”

“What are those?”

Luna pulled her hair back and showed you a pair of earrings she wore. They looked like little orange balloons, but leaves hung from them.

“Oh, those are very pretty, Luna,” you said, admiring them.

“My dad says they make you wiser,” she explained, “so he grows them in his garden.”

“And you wear them as earrings,” you said, smiling at her.

“Yes,” she nodded and gave you a crooked grin.

“What are your plans for the summer?” Luna asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. My father will be working, so I’ll probably be home all day,” you said, feeling a little lonely already, “I’ll have my roller skates though.”

Luna looked at you, confused, but you were more talking to Ron anyways, who you noticed was listening to your conversation.

“You should come to the Burrow this summer! Everyone does, even for just for a week,” Ron said, standing and moving over to sit on the coffee table in front of you.

“That sounds cool, I’d love to,” you said, grinning at Ron.

You looked around you and felt so lucky, lucky to have found such kind and accepting people at your new school.

Pacing upstairs, Fred smoothed down his hair before ruffling it again and then smoothing it. He knew you were downstairs, and he knew he wanted to talk to you, but you just made him so nervous. He never gets nervous.

George sat with his elbows on his knees, eyebrows raised, watching his brother obviously losing his mind.

“Just go down and talk to her,” he said, a little afraid his brother might explode, “you’re gonna wear a hole in the ground.”

Fred stopped where he stood, near the door. He sighed heavily and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard, “I’ll just go talk to her.”

Fred recalled the day he had formally met you at the Three Broomsticks. He was smooth, able to mask the way your curious gaze had made his stomach flutter. He couldn’t very well go down there and make a fool of himself, could he?

“Oi Fred!” he heard Lee call from where he stood near Harry, which was also near you, “Come over here a minute.”

Fred sauntered over, forcing himself not to stare at you.

Hermione had put down her book, and Luna had left to go to her own common room to do some homework. You and Hermione sat cross-legged facing each other, playing a muggle card game.

“Yeah?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the banister of the fireplace.

Harry and Lee sat at two wooden chairs near the fireplace, only a few feet away from the couch you were on. This angle allowed him to watch you as your head threw back in laughter as Hermione scowled at her losing the game. His eyes easily flickered back to Lee, who pulled him into the conversation he and Harry were having about Quidditch.

Ginny walked through the portrait hole, returning from some Quidditch training she had been doing. Ginny was taking Quidditch very seriously this year and had taken to exercising on the pitch with Angelina every weekend.

“Ginny!” Ron called out to her, putting down the newspaper he was reading. He waved her over with a hurried hand.

“What?” she said, plopping down on the empty space next to Hermione, “What game are you guys playing?”

You looked up from the deck of cards you had begun to shuffle as Hermione told her.

“Ginny,” Ron said again, pulling his sister’s attention back to him.

“Hm?” she said, and it was very obvious she was tired from her day's activities.

“Have you asked anyone over for the summer yet?” Ron asked, and his eyes flicked to you, “I just invited Y/n, so I don’t want it getting too crowded.”

Ginny looked over to you, her gaze becoming analytical. You raised a hand to wave and cast her a kind smile, and she returned it.

“I don’t have anything planned, it should be fine,” Ginny turned away from Ron and back towards you and Hermione, “When are you lot coming? At the same time?”

You looked towards Hermione, not knowing the answer.

“Oh, I didn’t have any specific ideas yet, Ron’s just asked me. Still have to write to my dad,” you said, and Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be the usual time for me, though,” Hermione said, and Ginny smiled.

“What’s the usual time?” you asked, beginning to deal the cards to you and Hermione.

“A few weeks before school starts, Mrs. Weasley takes us all to Diagon Alley for our school things,” Hermione said, speaking fondly of the memory.

“Should I ask my dad to come then, when Hermione does?” you looked towards Ron, “Unless I should come at a different time,” you said, not trying to intrude.

“That would be perfect! Harry comes ‘round that time too, so we’ll all see each other,” Ron said.

He looked over at Harry, and upon seeing his brother, he called Fred over the way he had done to Ginny.

“Fred, have you invited anyone home for summer yet?”

Fred’s gaze immediately went to you, and he found you looking at him too.

“Yeah,” he said, pushing himself off the wall and over to Ron.

“Who?” Ron said, curious because his brothers usually didn’t have people over to the Burrow during holidays.

“George,” he said, smirking.

“Git,” Ron mumbled under his breath.

“Why do you ask, Ickle Ronniekins?”

“I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t get too crowded when Hermione, Harry, and Y/n come ‘round,” Ron said, squirming as Fred forced himself into Ron’s seat that was only big enough for one of them.

Fred’s cool demeanor dropped for a moment, his eyes widening. He quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around Ron.

“How considerate of you,” he said, giving his brother an unwanted side hug.

Ron got up from his seat, leaving Fred to sit by himself. He watched you with unblinking eyes as you listened to Ginny talk about her time with Angelina on the pitch.

Looking down at your packed to the brim suitcase, you glance to the corner of your room. Your pristine roller skates sat there, one on their side. They looked sad and forgotten, but you knew that wasn’t true. Ever since you had gotten home from Hogwarts, you had taken to skating around ‘muggle’ London. You had also just gotten used to saying ‘muggle’.

Your father left early and got home late, and part of you was jealous that he got to see a Weasley every day and you didn’t. To ease your envy, you took to your skates.

You weren’t sure if you should pack them with you for Ron’s house. You were leaving when your father got home for work, the two of you setting off just before dark. You shoved a sweater deeper into your bag, making room for the skates.

Your father was to eat dinner with the Weasleys, sleep on the couch, and set off with Mr. Weasley for work in the morning. No point in two trips, they figured.

You were traveling by Flu powder, and your father went first. He heaved your bag into the fireplace with him and erupted in green flames. You carried a backpack on your shoulder, filled with little things that couldn’t fit in your suitcase.

Fred was more nervous and excited than he had ever felt in his whole life. He was determined to chat you up this summer, at least do something to make sure you knew he existed. He had been pacing in he and George’s shared room, but George pulled him down to the kitchen and made him drink some tea, hoping to calm him down.

You twisted your fingers, looking nervously into the fireplace. You were extremely excited to spend the remaining weeks of your summer with the Weasleys, but a small part of you was scared. You were nervous that Ron’s parents wouldn’t like you as much as they did at the train station. You were nervous that Ron, and his siblings, would get sick of having you around. You were nervous that you would become a burden.

You had been writing with Hermione, and she ensured you of how kind the Weasleys were. She told you that you had nothing to worry about, and you felt a little relieved.

You had visited Sarah a couple of times during the summer. She lived fairly close, close enough for you to take muggle transportation. Her family was welcoming and all had wide eyes at your accent. Thinking of their kindness, you felt confident enough to finally step into the fireplace.

Green flames surrounded you, and within seconds, you were stood in a different fireplace. It was a little shorter, and you were glad you had hunched over a little. Mr. Weasley and your father were shaking hands off to the side, over by a large couch. Mrs. Weasley was looking into the fireplace and waving you out. Ron was trudging your suitcase upstairs already, and Hermione and Ginny stood by Mrs. Weasley smiling widely. You noticed Fred and George sat at a large wooden table near the kitchen both drinking some tea and eating.

You took a step from the fireplace, making sure to wipe off any ash that may have stained your clothes, and allowed Mrs. Weasley to pull you into a hug.

“Oh, so good to see you again, dear!” she said, rocking you back and forth in the suffocating hug.

You didn’t care if you couldn’t breathe, you decided at that moment that Molly Weasley gave the absolute best hugs. She released you, patting your shoulders and running a loving hand through your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You beamed at her, and she smiled back at you.

When she moved away, Hermione quickly replaced her. Hermione’s arms pulled you close, wrapping around your backpack.

“I missed you!” she said, smiling at you.

“I missed you too!” you said, nearly ‘awing’ at everyone’s kindness.

Ginny hugged you too, and when you stepped away, Ron had come back downstairs. You hugged him, and then Harry, and finally you were left to be able to breathe your own air.

The house around you was adorable. It was better than you could have ever imagined. Magic was everywhere, and everything just felt like home.

“You’ll be staying with me and Ginny,” Hermione said to you from her spot next to you at the table.

“Perfect,” you replied, the same awestruck smile plastered on your face since you had arrived.

Fred looked at you from across the table. He felt like his dinner was moving in his stomach, and his hands were sweating. He’d nearly dropped his fork three times. He breathed deep, and when the conversation lulled, he took his chance.

“How has your summer been, Y/n?” he asked, and you looked up from your plate to him.

He nearly died, your happy eyes looking at him.

“Great!” you said, wiping your hands on your napkin in your lap, “I’m glad to finally be here.”

He smiled back at you, and it took him a moment to realize he’d been staring for a little too long, and that you had asked him a question.

“My summer? Oh, my summer’s been good too,” he replied, nodding.

You looked to George, who was next to him and raised your eyebrows, inviting his answer.

“It’s been good,” he said casually, and then an evil grin spread across his face, “but I think Fred’s just about worn my ear off talking about you.”

Fred coughed, choking on his mashed potatoes. His face went red, and he looked at his twin with an anger George had never seen before. Fred quickly looked back at you, as if to gauge your reaction. Your head was tilted down, but a shy smile was on your face and a blush crept on your cheeks.

Fred’s anger subsided at the sight of it, but when George kicked him from under the table, he was reminded.

“What is wrong with you?” Fred asked, nearly yelling at his brother in the privacy of their own room.

“I gave you a push,” George answered, not looking up from the Zonko’s catalog in his hands.

Fred simmered, coming to the realization that George was right. He fell onto his bed, thinking back to the pink on your cheeks and the bashful curl of your lips.

He didn’t know how he was meant to sleep, painfully aware of the fact that you were asleep just a room away.

“Did you hear what George said to Y/n at dinner?” Hermione asked, pulling Ginny into the argument you were having once she got out of the shower.

Ginny shook her head, removing the towel from her hair, “No, what’d he say?”

You rolled your eyes at Hermione as she divulged into every little detail of what George had said.

“And Fred could not stop staring!” she finished, and you let out an exaggerated breath.

“He was not staring!”

“Yes, he was,” Ginny said cheekily, sitting down on her bed.

“Ginny!” you said, giving up hope of having her on your side.

“He totally fancies you,” Hermione said.

Your face twisted for two reasons: the word ‘fancies’, and the fact that she thought Fred Weasley might fancy you.

“He does not!”

Ginny sat on her bed, listening to you and Hermione go back and forth. She knew Fred fancied you, he had since they had been at school. She saw his longing looks, the way he looked at you first after he told a joke, and the pure admiration he had in his eyes any time he looked at you. It especially convinced her when Fred had been talking about you all summer. She came to a decision.

“He does,” she said, watching Hermione’s face change into the proud one she wore when she answered a question right in class. Your mouth hung open.

“What?” Hermione’s gaze turned towards you, and she smiled widely. You liked to think it was her infectious smile that made your mouth turn up, and not the idea of Fred liking you.

“He has been talking about you all summer, I’m surprised Ron didn’t tell you earlier,” Ginny said, bringing the towel to her hair again to catch some dripping water.

“He probably hasn’t even noticed,” Hermione said, the tone of annoyance dripping off her tongue.

Ginny flashed her a sympathetic look, but Hermione ignored it, continuing.

“Do you like him?” she pried, and the whole room felt like it was frozen.

They both looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

You didn’t know. Fred was handsome, and funny, and clever, but you hardly knew him. You knew he was mischievous, and that he tormented Ron, but other than that you might as well have been strangers. You could not deny, however, that he was attractive.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly.

“You don’t know?” Ginny repeated, confused.

“Yeah, I mean, I barely know him,” you answered, the obvious energy in the room shifting to something of deep thought.

“Do you fancy him, though?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.

“I think he’s cute, yeah, but how can he fancy me? We’ve barely spoken to each other. Are you sure Ginny?” you asked again, still doubtful.

“I’m sure he’s noticed the little things more than you think he would, Fred can be pretty considerate when he wants to be,” Ginny said, and you breathed out loudly. You flopped on your back, the mound of blankets around you and Hermione soothing your landing.

“See? I wouldn’t know that!” you said.

You knew it was a little silly, to focus on something like this. You had an older, attractive, popular boy head over heels for you, but you were harping on the fact that you didn’t know whether or not he was considerate.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hermione said harshly, “I mean it’s not like you’re forced to marry him. You go on dates with people to get to know them, after all.”

You were nearly offended by Hermione’s tone, but you figured she was just getting irritated on the subject of crushes.

“I know, ‘Mione, I’m just confused by it,” you reassured her.

“Well, test the waters tomorrow,” Ginny said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

You cringed away from her, and swells of giggles were coming from Ginny’s room nearly all night.

The three of you slept late into the morning. The Burrow’s eventful noises were nothing compared to the sounds of muggle London, so you slept peacefully. It wasn’t until something began tapping on Ginny’s window, did the three of you wake up.

“What the-?” Ginny started but soon fell silent at the sound of a loud crashing noise. Shards of glass scattered around the room and Hermione was lucky that she had rolled away from the window in her sleep. You put your hand up, flinching at the noise, and when you dropped it, the warm summer air flooded into the room.

A small golden snitch was soaring around the room, averting every swipe of Ginny’s hands, and ducking behind her dresser.

Ginny slipped on some shoes, and carefully navigated through the glass. She leaned cautiously out of the window, and that's when the screaming started.

“Harry! Are you mental?! What on Earth-” her screams divulged into threats and insults, and you looked over her shoulder, watching Harry hover many feet away on his broom, his face looking quite guilty.

You found your shoes and moved over to the window. You then realized that Fred and George were hovering closer to Ginny’s window, silencing the snickers and amazed faces they wore. At the sight of Fred, your eyes widened, and his eyes met yours. He smiled kindly at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you ducked behind the window, crouching by Ginny’s feet.

You heard George’s laughter, and Ginny’s ramblings stilled.

“What are you doing on the floor?” she asked you, lowering herself to crouch with you.

“I don’t know,” you answered, whispering. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were wide. Ginny’s threatening look turned into a smile.

She began to giggle, and soon enough, Fred and George hovered just above the window, peering into Ginny’s room.

“What are you girls doing down there?” George asked, resting a hand on the part of the windowsill with no glass on it, peering into the room.

Ginny looked at you, her smile wide. You looked around and began to pick up large shards of glass.

“Cleaning up the glass,” you said casually, although you could still feel the distinct burn of blush on your cheeks.

You could only safely pick up two large shards of glass without cutting your hands, so you raised yourself from the ground, meeting Fred and George’s eyes. Ginny followed you, crossing her arms and smirking.

The boys wore their practice robes, their names and numbers on the backs. They both had discarded goggles hanging from their necks, and their hair was wild. You looked between the both of them, swallowing thickly.

“Could you keep it down?” Ginny finally said, trying to ease the situation, “We’re trying to sleep.”

George removed a hand from his broom and glanced at his watch, “It’s nearly 12 in the afternoon,” he said sarcastically.

“Really? Well, we need our beauty sleep,” Ginny said, and you noticed she nearly reached out to close the window.

George rolled his eyes and zipped away on his broom, leaving Fred.

“I’m gonna go get a broom, clean this up,” Ginny said, huffing as she navigated her way back through the glass on the floor.

You and Fred were left there, staring at anything but each other. Fred moved slightly up and down on his broom as he hovered. He finally cleared his throat and looked at you.

“Sleep well?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

You nodded and smiled, rocking back and forth on your feet, “You?”

He nodded too and looked away quickly.

“Oh, I think George, is calling me,” he said, and it was obvious George was not calling him. He flew away on his broom, and you closed your eyes, letting out a restrained breath.

You groaned and threw yourself on Ginny’s bed. Hermione rolled over, a large and entertained grin on her face. You covered your face with a pillow and ignored Ginny and Hermione’s imitations of the incident while they swept up the glass.

Mrs. Weasley was furious to see Ginny’s window. She had come in later in the day, a basket full of laundry on her hip.

“Hello girls,” she said pleasantly, “Do you have- what the bloody hell is that?”

Ginny’s eyes widened at the sound of her mother’s deep and serious tone.

“Mum! It wasn’t us,” Ginny leaped from her bed and ran to her dresser, she quickly caught the snitch from where it had been hiding behind her dresser, “It came through the window this morning when the boys were playing.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at you and Hermione, and you both nodded your heads furiously. She huffed out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

Finally looking up, she set the laundry down and stood in Ginny’s doorway.

“BOYS!” she shouted, and you heard the sudden halting of George and Fred’s laughter, and Harry and Ron’s footsteps upstairs silenced.

The sound of four hesitant feet walking to Ginny’s room was the last thing you heard before Mrs. Weasley’s screams burst your eardrums.

The Burrow was crowded now that the boys had been banned from leaving the house. They had only briefly been allowed out of the house to de-gnome the garden, but Mrs. Weasley stood at the door, making sure they had absolutely no fun.

Your suitcase lay open in Ginny’s room, the three of you dressed and having absolutely no ideas as to what to do. You had all already ran through your spending money going to Diagon Alley on your first days there, and without the boys offering some entertainment, the three of you were idle.

Ginny paced, looking through her own things with interest. She twisted her broom in her hands, offering the idea of Quidditch, but Hermione wasn’t interested. Ginny was scanning her room, and her eyes fell on your bag. A pair of white shoes with wheels on them lay tucked away in the bag. She walked over to them and pulled them out hesitantly.

“What the bloody hell are those?” George said from the doorway.

The three of you girls turned, looking to the door. The four boys crowded in the hall, all peering into the room with interest. It seemed they were bored too.

“Are those the roll skates?” Ron asked, mispronouncing the word and shoving past George and taking the roller skate from Ginny.

“Yeah,” you said, your eyes flicking up over the top of your magazine.

The rest of the boys filed into the tiny room, nearly all of them shoulder to shoulder. Hermione rose from her spot next to you, picking up the other one from your bag.

“I remember seeing commercials for these things when I was a kid,” Hermione said, spinning the wheel in her hand.

“Commercials? What are you on about?” Ron said, and Harry caught your baffled look and smiled.

“What are they?” Fred asked, taking Hermione’s seat next to you on Ginny’s bed.

You lowered your magazine and looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. He gave you a crooked smile and nodded in greeting. You successfully fought a blush and smiled back at him.

“They’re roller skates. They’re like shoes with wheels,” you explained, taking the skate from Ron.

You rolled up your jeans a little and slipped on the skate. Fred watched your delicate fingers lacing up the shoe, noticing the way your hair fell into your face as you looked down at them.

Hermione handed you the other one, and you did the same to the other foot. You stood easily from the bed and nearly lost your balance. It was lucky that Fred’s strong shoulder was there for your hand to clasp onto, or else your feet would have slipped from under you.

You looked down at your hand still on Fred’s shoulder, even though you were standing fine. He slipped your hand off but kept it in his hand. You then became aware that you were just holding hands at this point. He stood with you and turned to face you. He pulled your other hand into his, and pushed you away from him, smiling widely as you rolled easily on the hardwood floors.

Everyone knew then that they had found their entertainment for the day.

The sound of joyful laughter flooded your ears as Fred pulled you around the limited space in Ginny’s room. Your hands fit together perfectly, and he walked backward as he pulled you, keeping his smiling eyes on you the whole time. Soon he was pulling you into the hallway, and everyone trailed after. You felt Ginny’s small hands pushing your back, and you began to gain speed. Fred hadn’t caught up, and you were coming closer and closer to him. You looked down but didn’t want to put your toes down to brake, in fear of scuffing up the floor. So, you let yourself fall into Fred’s arms.

The two of you stayed upright, but his long arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands fell to his chest, and his chin pressed against his neck as he looked down at you. His hair fell into his eyes, and yours fell gracefully in its natural place. You smiled, and he smiled, and soon you erupted into giggles at the silence behind you. George catcalled, and you stuffed your giggles into Fred’s chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt him take a sharp inhale, and his arms became a little tighter around you.

When Mr. Weasley got home, he was accosted by his children.

“Dad!” They said in unison, all waiting for him by the door.

He jumped at the sight of them all, then began taking off his coat.

“Look at these!” Ginny said, pointing to your feet.

You did a little spin, careful not to make any marks on the floor. Fred watched you spin elegantly, your arms coming out a little like a ballerina.

“Remarkable!” Mr. Wealsey cried, moving to look at them.

Questions came from his mouth faster then you could answer them, and you slid the wheels against the floor under the table while you ate dinner.

“We had an idea, Dad,” Fred said, looking at you proudly.

“Yeah, think you’ll like it,” George added, glancing at you with a smirk and then looking back at his dad.

“We need you to conjure some sort of track outside,” Ron finished, talking with his mouth full.

“A track! That’s brilliant!” Mr. Weasley exclaimed, missing the worried look from his wife.

“It was Y/n’s idea, she’s brilliant,” Fred said, looking across the table at you.

You giggled as George made a gagging noise.

“With what? Stone?” Mrs. Weasley inquired, placing a hand on her hip.

“Oh no, they’re usually made of wood or asphalt,” you explained, “they have a whole building of them in the muggle world. People rent the skates and pay to skate on a big rink.”

Mr. Weasley's eyes widened with excitement, and Mrs. Weasley’s worry tamed.

“Let’s do it tonight.”

The eight of you walked to a clearing on the side of the house. It was where the boys usually played Quidditch, but it hadn’t been in use for days. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t stopped the boys from helping with the track, and you were grateful.

“Hold it higher, Ron!” Mr. Weasley called out, and Ron raised his father's wand with a bright orb of light coming from it.

The track was nearly done. It was huge, a large hoop secured to the ground. There was an enchanted orb of light in the center of the circle, and it illuminated the entire rink.

Your friends watched you blaze around the track, your hair whipping around behind your face, the sides of your cardigan flapping in the wind. You heard loud cheers when you successfully began skating backward.

The rest of your trip to The Burrow was spent out there. The boys were lifted from their punishments, and the rink became the one place you all went to when you woke up, and the last place you were before bed. Soon enough, though, your father appeared in the fireplace with your school trunk by his side. He quickly took back the bag you had been keeping at the Weasley's, and you went through your trunk one last time, making sure you had everything.

This year, walking through the train station, you were still stared at. But you didn’t care because an entire family surrounding you, and they all looked like you.

Your father gave you a lasting embrace before Fred followed you onto the train. He had waited for you, watching as you hugged your dad. He waved to your father, and his hand grazed your lower back as he walked behind you. The two of you found the compartment that had to be the most crowded of the lot.

Lee, Luna, Neville, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sarah, George, and now you and Fred, packed into a compartment, the entire room filled with busy conversation the entire ride.

It was weird to be in the Hufflepuff common room, your bedroom devoid of Ginny’s huffs as she rolled over to get comfortable, or Hermione’s anxious mumbles she said in her sleep. You pulled your blankets off of you, your legs feeling sore from the constant skating you had been doing for weeks.

Speaking of, you had made the decision to bring your skates to Hogwarts. You slipped them on, tightening the rainbow laces. You pointed your wand at the wheels and cast a silencing charm, so the turn of the wheels would be silent.

You carefully climbed the stairs from the Hufflepuff basement and looked both ways before you skated towards your destination.

Fred had been sitting under his covers, looking over the map as he usually did before he snuck to the kitchens. Out of habit, he looked at the Hufflepuff common room for your familiar name. He was shocked to see you across the castle, in a long-abandoned classroom. He suddenly lost his appetite and slid into some slippers.

He rested his forearm in the crook of the door, leaning against it. He watched you illuminated by the candles lit on the wall. You easily glided between the desks, twisting and turning, spinning, and navigating between them. His eyes followed you, your body moving naturally. He watched the sway of your hips as your wait transferred from foot to foot, the skates rolling against the smooth stone. You moved to the open space in the room, skating backward, your back to him. You turned just a few feet in front of him, and when you saw Fred, your surprise ran through your body. Your feet faltered and you bumped into a desk, making a loud crash.

He jumped from his spot in the doorway, closing the door behind him. He moved to you in two long strides, crouching to reach you on the floor.

“Are you alright?”

“You scared the shit out of me, Fred!” you said, smiling up at him.

“Couldn’t help it, I had to come see you,” he said smoothly, bringing the map from his back pocket.

“What? How did you know I was here?”

He unfolded a piece of paper and held it out to you. You took it in your hands and realized what it was. Before you could look at it for long, Fred took it back, a worried expression on his face.

“Filch is coming, he must have heard the noise,” Fred folded the map and put it back in his pocket.

Suddenly, his hands were on your waist, and he was guiding you to your feet. He looked around the room and saw the door to the supply closet.

With a wave of his wand, the flames of the candles were extinguished and he was pulling your gliding figure to the closet. The door closed just in time, and Filch burst in. You and Fred were pressed together, his hands still on your waist. You opened your mouth to ask him about the map, and one of his hands covered your mouth. He felt your soft lips, and his eyes locked onto yours. You heard Filch’s heavy feet stomping around the room and the screech of the desk against the floor.

Your mind was occupied by the lack of space between you, your back pressed to the door, and Fred’s warm hand on your face. He looked deeply at you, and his face was inches from yours.

You thought back to the day Ginny told you about how Fred felt, and you realized that you no longer had any hesitations about Fred. Standing this close to him, his leg slid between yours, his chest against yours, you felt what he felt. You fancied Fred.

Fred felt your lips curl into a smile beneath his hand. It was dark, so he couldn’t see your face, but he wished more than anything that he could. He heard the door close, and Filch was gone, but neither of you moved. Fred’s hand retracted from your mouth, moving to your neck. His fingers slipped under your hair, and his thumb rested in your jaw.

“Why did you come here?” you whispered.

“I like to watch you skate,” he answered, his voice devoid of any laughter.

“You’ve watched me skate for weeks,” you said quickly, inching your face closer to his, craning your neck to look up at him.

“I like to watch you,” he said without thinking, “I like you.”

You closed the space between you two. His lips were slow, and so were yours. You arched your back against the door, anything to get closer to him. His face was warm, and yours was cold. His lips pressed hard against yours, and the kiss held everything he had felt since he talked to you in the Three Broomsticks. It was all the nights he had ranted to George about you, all the times he had mentioned what little time it was until you’d finally be at The Burrow, all the times he looked at the map just to see your name, all the times his stomach had flipped just at the thought of you.

You pulled away, breathless, and he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder. His breathing was heavy, and your eyes had fluttered closed. He reached for his wand and said “Lumos,” just so he could see your pretty face and swollen lips.

He walked you back to the basement, and you shared another slow kiss. He had almost followed you down the stairs, watching you leave with your skates hanging from around your neck.

The next morning in the courtyard, Ginny was the first to notice.

“What happened?” she said, skeptical of your dazed face and the constant flush you had from just being near Fred.

He sat a few feet away in his own world, avoiding George and Lee’s conversation about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip.

You smiled at Ginny, and she furrowed her brows at you. You were about to tell her, but Ron fell with a thud onto the ground next to you.

“It’s been three bloody weeks and Snape’s already assigned 100 pages of reading,” Ron groaned, pulling a heavy textbook from under his arm. Hermione and Harry trailed behind him, sitting with much more grace than Ron had.

Hermione also noticed your at peace look and looked at you analytically.

You were finally able to tell them in the hall, during an extended period between classes.

“He kissed me last night,” you said with a blush.

“I told you!”

“Finally!”

You hushed them, a bashful smile coming to your lips. Fred passed the three of you, his eyes locked on yours as he walked. Over his shoulder, he sent you a flirty wink. You felt weak at the knees and was glad that you were leaning against a wall.

“Maybe he’ll ask you to Hogsmeade,” Hermione said, tugging you off the wall and in the opposite way Fred was walking. You looked over your shoulder to see him walking backward, watching you walk away.

“Knowing Fred, he’ll probably pull some elaborate prank or get fireworks to spell your name out,” Ginny said, watching you look at her brother.

Fred did something like that, the two of you in the courtyard, laying in the grass. He had pulled you from dinner just after you were dismissed, and he led you to the courtyard. You both stared at the sky, and he looked at you. You met his gaze and then he pointed at the sky.

In huge, shining, red words read “Y/n, Hogsmeade this weekend?”.

You smiled at him and nodded. His hand snaked to cup your cheek still laying down. He pulled you towards him, and you moved to look down at him, propped up on your elbow. His lips met yours, and the sound of more bursting fireworks flooded the air around you.

It was nearly Christmas now. You and Fred have been dating for a few weeks, and he invited you back to the Burrow for the holidays.

You accepted, and you trudged your heavy bag into the fireplace. It was filled with gifts for the Weasley’s, and you were feeling quite confident about it.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stayed at school for the holidays, leaving you, George, Fred, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in front of a fire on Christmas eve.

You had called your father on your flip phone he had given you as an early Christmas present. He was coming over tomorrow for Christmas morning, and you felt incredibly content.

Coming back to the couch, tucking your phone into your pocket, you slipped back under Fred’s arm, curling into his side. Mr. Wealsey had already had a go at the device, and he just watched amazed at it fitting into your pocket so easily.

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of your father’s booming voice downstairs. You sat up, stretching, and looked over to Ginny’s bed. It was empty, the covers were thrown aside. You slipped on a large cardigan, pulling it around your cold arms and going downstairs.

You were met with what felt like a dream. All the Weasley’s sat around the table, eating a huge Christmas breakfast and drinking tea. They each wore matching sweaters with their initials on them, and your father was standing with Mr. Weasley by the couch.

“Happy Christmas!” they all beamed at you.

Ginny tugged you over to the couch, sitting on one side of you while Fred sat on the other. Your father stood behind you on the couch, and a pile of presents were stacked in the room. You had brought your presents for the Weasley’s down last night, and you saw them on the ground.

Wrapping paper was everywhere, and the sound of happiness flooded the room. It finally came time for everyone to open what you had gotten them, and Fred went first. He tore away the red paper and held the plain box in his hands. He shook it, holding it up to his ear and smiling at you.

“Careful!” you told him, and he tore away the tape holding the box shut.

Inside, a brand new pair of garnet roller skates. He gasped, his large hands holding a skate up.

“Oh, my-” Mrs. Weasley said, already thinking of the awful thing he and George could do with those.

“It’s amazing!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you.

You returned the hug, and whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Fred.”

Soon, all the Weasley’s were holding different colored skates, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

[dutchdread]

No offense bro, but why are you always so protective of Cloud? No disrespect to you or anything but I've heard quite a bit of different opinions and theories on Cloud myself and I do agree with the people who say that he takes Tifa for granted. Going through trauma in the past is not really an excuse for his behavior. He also does act like he's the only one who has suffered in his life. Do you have other reason to defend him other than the fact that you "relate" to him? Just wondering.

Sorry for the late reply, my life has basically left no room for hobbies these past months. Your question is hard to reply to because I am not sure what you mean when you say I am protective of him. I guess you mean I defend his actions? Specifically in ACC? Firstly let me state that there is a difference between being a good character and being a nice character, there is also a difference between agreeing with someones actions, or just understanding them. Personally, I never really liked Cloud, especially not when I was younger. A lot of my defense of Cloud doesn't come from me personally liking him, but from me thinking he's a good character. I also think Snape is a good character, but I don't like his actions, and I don't defend them, although I still understand them to a certain degree. I should also say that as I started to understand Clouds character more, I also started liking HIM a bit more, although I still don't like the things he did, and would very likely not be friends with him. But I do understand why he did what he did and cannot be too critical of him because of that. You've probably heard that before you judge someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That's great advice, if you want to judge someone, you should imagine what it would be like to be them, however, I've noticed that too often when people try to walk a mile in someone elses shoes, they refuse to take their own shoes off first. They don't think "what would it be like to be him", they think "what would I do in that position". But Cloud is not you, and you cannot judge him by how you would act, you've not gone through the same things he has, your thought patterns aren't the same etc. This matters because too often I see people judging Clouds actions in ACC, and establishing his motivations by saying things that boil down to "If I were in his position, I would only do those actions if I loved Aerith/didn't love Tifa/whatever". But they're not Cloud, and they're not understanding how Cloud thinks, and that it's different from how THEY think. But like you said, I do see some recognizable elements of myself in Cloud, which is why I do understand his actions, and why I feel relatively certain in defending them, because I see them coming from a good place. It's common for me to react to things in a way that others find counter-intuitive. Let me give you an example, my brother once was mad at me because I had not told him my girlfriend of several years and I had broken up while I did tell a random stranger at the pub. He said that he felt like he wasn't important to me if I told a random stranger but not him. The truth was the exact opposite, I love my brother, and could not bear to face him for some reason, as I told him: "if not caring enough was the problem, then I wouldn't have told a random stranger". I see people exhibit that same lack of understanding when discussing Clouds actions, where they feel like his actions must be the sign of him just being a bad person, or not caring. But ask yourself what is more likely, that Square-enix wants their hero to be a bad person, or that you simply are misunderstanding the character? I understand why people don't get Cloud, Cloud suffers from obvious mental health issues, and mental health issues simply are not something that the general public understands, even today. Not only that, but Cloud went through the most insane series of traumatic events anyone could ever imagine. He had an alien parasite in him, saw his entire town murdered before his eyes, then saw Zack murdered in front of his eyes, then saw Aerith murdered in front of his eyes, and just when he started living a peaceful life he is forced to watch his child succumb to sickness in front of his eyes, and then he finds he himself is dying. All this on the psyche of a man who had had a fear of failure ever since he was a child, spent most of his life essentially in war, and had a severe identity crisis as well. Do you think you can honestly judge him by going "that's not what I would have done"? Would that not be incredibly

presumptuous? Have you suffered from depression as a result of severe post-war PTSD and a lifelong feeling of inadequacy combined with a fear of failure and the belief that many of your loved ones died because you failed and were inadequate? Because that's the context in which you have to view Cloud when watching Advent Children. Saying "Going through trauma in the past is not really an excuse for his behavior" is just incredibly short-sighted, your behavior is determined by who you are, and who you are is determined by what you go through in the past. You can't expect a broken child to become a well-adjusted adult when being a well-adjusted adult is the result of having a normal childhood.

I also don't want to cause offense, but this really is a mindset you should change, because this mindset is one of the most pervasive and damaging ones in our society, it's the one that probably bothers me most when I hear it because it makes zero sense. It's like breaking a robots self-repair unit, and then being angry at it on the grounds that the self-repair unit should have fixed it. It's also very insensitive in general, it's the equivalent of saying "why are you depressed, just stop being depressed", people don't choose to be depressed, people don't choose to have a fear of failure. People don't choose their emotions, they're just there. They can be influenced by behavior over time, sure, but behavior is equally influenced by who you are and your emotions, which, as mentioned before, is determined for a large part by your past. People don't just "snap out of it". They fight and fight and fight, and sometimes they win and break out of the spiral, and sometimes they lose and it breaks them.

FFVII, and especially Advent children, is all about that struggle, and during those struggles you will have high-points, and low-points. FFVII shows all of those. It shows Cloud trying, it shows Cloud wanting, it shows Cloud failing, but it also, ultimately, shows Cloud prevailing. Judging Cloud for not breaking out of the spiral by the time of Advent children, when he was mentally only barely 18 years old, and when he started at the worst place anyone could ever imagine, is just not reasonable. It's the modern day equivalent of "let them eat cake", something that can only be said from the place of privilege of not knowing what the struggles of the people you're critiquing are actually like. So having that out of the way, lets look at Clouds actions from the perspective of Cloud. Cloud is a young boy, and he's in love with the girl next door, he wants to get her to notice him. One day said girl walks up a mountain and he follows, she falls off a bridge and ends in a coma. Cloud followed her because he's in love with her, and he gets the blame from the adults. Cloud internalizes this, and its important to imagine what this must be like for a child, to have the adults all tell him it's his fault that the person he loves ended up hurt. "your fault", "your fault". Afterwards Cloud starts thinking Tifa hates him and starts acting out. I think this is a good moment to point out btw that this child has no father figure. This is the start of his feelings of failure and inadequacy, he blames himself for not being able to protect Tifa, failure number 1, he thinks that if he were strong, he'd be able to protect her, he thinks that if he were like Sephiroth, then even Tifa would have to notice him. Now until this time Cloud is not an asshole, he's a bit of a rebellious kid yes, but notice that he's not a bad kid as much as he's a kid who wants to protect someone, has no direction, and is acting out. So Cloud thinks he's not good enough, but he leaves town confident that he'll become good enough, and even makes a promise to Tifa. All this follows logically from what we know about Cloud, and tells us a lot about how deeply seated these feelings are. Becoming Soldier wasn't a small thing, not some small passion project that he just came up with one day, it's the result of the things that happened in his childhood and he left everything behind make it so. He told the girl he loved, he promised, he boasted. And then he failed. Failure number 2. He comes back to Nibleheim and can't bear to look Tifa in the eye and admit that he couldn't do it, that he's a failure. His entire life so far has revolved around this and he wasn't good enough. So here we have Cloud, not in a great mindset, thinking he's a failure, and what happens? His entire town is murdered by the person he admired, someone he worked with. His Mother is killed, and Tifa, the girl he PROMISED to protect, gets slashed open so badly that apparently she needed to have her ribcage reinforced with metal. I think we can all agree that this by itself would be enough to potentially scar a person for life. (Cloud, not Tifa XD) So what's next for the boy who left town in order to become a hero? Well, he gets captured and experimented on for 4 years, during which his mind and sense of identity is bombarded with memories and knowledge of the lifestream in the form of mako, muddying up his thoughts. Cloud already had a weak sense of self as a result of his childhood, it's why he failed to enter Soldier and now this distaste for who he is makes him extra susceptible to Jenovas influence. The next thing Cloud sees, (he didn't consciously experience the 4 years of mind-fuckery) is his best friend getting killed trying to protect him, because Cloud wasn't strong enough. Failure #3. At this point, in Clouds mind the list of people dead because he could not protect them, because he's a failure, include his mother, his entire town, his best friend, and as far as he knows, the girl he loves. This is his life. His mind is broken, he hates himself, he doesn't want to be himself,

he has a mind-altering parasite inside of him trying to adjust his identity and Clouds just goes "I reject this reality and constitute my own". And why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't he want to live in a fantasy world where he wasn't a failure, where he made it into soldier, where he was cool and successful and not a disappointing failure? Zack tells him to be his living legacy and Cloud goes with it, then he runs into Tifa, Jenova adjusts Cloud further based on Tifas memories of them and rejoined with the girl for whom he joined Soldier Cloud is unconsciously all too willing to play the part. FFVII starts and it doesn't take long for the cracks in his fake persona to show, he meets Aerith, and becomes her bodyguard. He gets to be the hero he always wanted to be. But then, even as "Cloud strife, soldier first class", Cloud is still a failure, the plate still drops, killing thousands, he gives Sephiroth the black materia, he beats up Aerith, and ultimately, fails to save her as well. Tifa was the First Failure, and Aerith was the Final Failure. Even as a soldier, Cloud still couldn't save anyone, he loses even more faith in himself, he doesn't know who he is, he doesn't trust himself, and then when he also loses Tifas trust in who he is, he just breaks and gives over to Jenova/Sephiroth. Even Hojo calls him a failure. Cloud feels like a nobody. Now mentally weakened, under the influence of jenova cells, he gives Sephiroth the black materia AGAIN, and meteor is summoned. Another entry on the long list of moments Cloud can look back on in shame later on in life. He falls into the lifestream and again his psyche is under attack. We know what happens afterwards, Tifa finds him, cares for him, and saves him through his feelings for her. Cloud realizes who he is, realizes he's weak, and goes after Sephiroth without lying to himself. In the end he defeats Sephiroth mentally and is supposedly rid of his direct influence.

But that doesn't mean that this mentally 17 year old is now fine, we should remember these events when analyzing ACC. Cloud has been in constant fighting/war/peril ever since he left home as a child, and is now a traumatized 17 year old in a 21 year olds body. Novels and other materials give us an insight into how Cloud thinks during these times, and how he thinks about himself. We hear him say that he's going to live because that's the only way he can atone for his sins. He talks about wanting to change, and about believing he can change because he now has Tifa. He's a man (boy) who just exited war, and wants to be positive, but is still clearly blaming himself. We see that this initially goes well, we are told that Cloud experiences peace and happiness that he's never experienced before. We're also told about the things that make it go badly, when he has to deliver flowers to the ancient city for instance. While Cloud regained the sense of who he was the belief that he wasn't good enough, that he was a failure, was never solved, if anything it was put on hold until he got his memories back, and now he is forced to deal with it.

While he is no longer directly manipulated by Sephiroth he's still suffering from PTSD and, most notably, survivors guilt. He blames himself for the deaths of Zack and Aerith in particular, and starts visiting the church. Now most people might think it's natural to avoid places that make you feel bad about yourself, but that's not how a depressed person thinks, Cloud thinks he deserves to feel badly he WANTS to punish himself, he WANTS to feel bad. He's ashamed of the moments where he's carefree and laughing with Tifa. Why should he get to be happy when Aerith and Zack are dead because of him? He shouldn't be happy, he should be in pain, he should remember them, not doing so would be an insult to their memories, he must never forget how he failed them! That's how Cloud is thinking. We know of course that this is non-sense, Aerith and Zack wouldn't want this, if anything it's this mindset that is tarnishing the memories of Aerith and Zack, but that's not how a mentally unwell person thinks. Cloud wants to atone, and thinks he finds salvation in Denzel, whom he finds at Aeriths church. He thinks that by saving this life, he can, in some way, make up for all the death he caused. Tifa has a similar belief when she finds out Denzels parents died in the plate crash. And when Denzel joins the family, and Cloud has path towards redemption in his mind, things start getting better again. Because this is the cause of the problems Cloud is having in ACC. When Nojima says:

first off, there’s the premise that things won’t go well between Tifa and Cloud, and that even without Geostigma or Sephiroth this might be the same

This is the conflict he's talking about, he's not saying "Tifa and Cloud are incompatible, it has nothing to do with Sephiroth", he's saying "if Sephiroth didn't show up during Advent children, Cloud and Tifa would still be having problems because Cloud is going through survivors guilt."

But the good times don't last, Denzel has Geostigma and Cloud cannot find a cure, Denzel....is going to die. Cloud, has failed again. Not only that, but Cloud catches Geostigma....Cloud is going to die. And THIS is why Cloud leaves in Advent children. And you have to look at this as Cloud. Cloud said he was going to live to atone for his sins, but instead he's going to die. He won't atone for his sins, even worse, he's going to leave Tifa and Marlene behind. He failed again. He couldn't protect Denzel, he potentially brought an infectious disease into their house as well. Literally all Cloud can think about is that literally everything he's ever tried has ended in failure, everyone he's ever tried to protect, he's failed at. Do you understand how easy it would be for a person like this to fall into the trap of thinking "I deserve to die", "I don't want Tifa and Marlene to see me die", "Tifa and Marlene are better off without me anyway", "they'd be happier if I weren't here". Etc. Now we know this is nonsense, but come on, how many instances have you heard of depressed people genuinely believing that their loved ones would be happier and better off if they just didn't exist? However, throughout the movie, Zack, Tifa, and Aerith, all confront Cloud, and urge him to not give up. Cloud eventually does try again, and ultimately finds redemption not by being stuck in the past, but by letting the past rest and be beautiful (a lesson Cleriths unfortunately never learned). "I never blamed you you know, not once" "I want to be forgiven. By who?" "Isn't it about time you did the forgiving?" In the end, Cloud moves on, and therefore, so do Zack and Aerith. Aerith and Zack walk into the light, Cloud plants flowers on Zacks grave, and lets Zacks buster sword rest in Aeriths church, now no longer rusting, but shining. Instead of the past being a negative reminder, Cloud lets the past be beautiful. Cloud was doing Aerith and Zack a disservice by remembering them the way he did, because it was ruining his life, it wasn't a good thing, but it did come from a good place, from a good man whose ashamed of not being good enough. Yes, it harmed Tifa, people going through these things often do hurt those around them, but it's not because they're bad people, or even weak, but because people are imperfect and Cloud has gone through hell, both internally, and externally. Are his actions really that weird or deplorable? "He didn't even go save the kids!" Yes, he's hesitant about saving the kids, why shouldn't he be? Everyone Cloud tried to protect or save, ended up maimed or worse, or as Cloud puts it: "I can't even save myself". "He left Tifa alone!" Yes, he thinks he's going to waste away and die, can you blame him for not wanting to put Tifa through that and for thinking she'd be better off without him? "He drinks!" Wouldn't you?! Who wouldn't want to forget that stuff? But in the end, He's only gone for about a week, he never intended to harm Tifa, he never physically harmed Tifa or cheated on her, his entire life revolved around wanting to be better for Tifa and blaming himself when he wasn't good enough, how is it reasonable to say this man takes Tifa for granted when the fact that he thinks he has to BE BETTER in order to be worthy of being with her has been a constant throughout his entire life and story? He DOESN'T take Tifa for granted, that's why he's beating himself up, that's why he leaves, not because he thinks he's better than her, or that he'll always have her, or that she'll follow him like a dog, or something like that. But because of the opposite, because he thinks HE is not good enough, that SHE would be better of without him. Saying Cloud takes Tifa for granted, is honestly, simply, wrong. It's 180 degrees the opposite of what is happening in FFVII, the biggest constant in Clouds life, is that he doesn't take Tifa for granted, and I don't understand how anyone could argue otherwise.

[rjhpandapaws]

When He Speaks

Chapter 2: Environmental Enrichment

It didn’t take him long to decide that while he was good at it, detective work was incredibly boring. When it came down to it it was always the same thing that happened; a human or an android was pushed to their breaking point and snapped. They had to figure out the how and why of it. While it could be tragic, homicide was boring. Detective Reed found it exhilarating, but he was only human, these sorts of things were complex to him. It took him days or weeks to unravel clues and evidence Nines had the answers to in hours at most. He brought this up to Connor, and thankfully he seemed to understand. He looked at Nines like this conversation was something he had been expecting for a while now. “Yeah. It get’s pretty boring after a while.” He had said, “Have you tried doing anything while you wait on Gavin’s conclusions?” “No.” He replied, “There’s nothing else that needs to be done. The cases can’t move forward until we discuss our results.” “I wasn’t talking about the case Nine-Hundred.” He clarified, “I was talking about you.” “I don’t understand.” He echoed, “What does this have to do with me? I haven’t done anything to further Gavin’s incompetence.”

Connor actually laughed at that, “He’s not incompetent Nines; he’s human. There is a difference.” He ignored Nines’s disbelieving expression and moved on, “We’re both advanced investigative models. We were meant to always be doing something and taking in information, not waiting. You’re bored because you don’t have any sensory input going on.” “So what am I supposed to do about that, run the tests again? The results won’t be any different.” He remarked. In a very human gesture that he probably picked up from Hank, Connor sighed. “No.” He said flatly, “Do something.” He gestured back toward his own desk, “I have fidget toys and slime that you’re welcome to borrow.” “So I’m supposed to play?” He asked. “No.” Connor sounded exasperated now, “You aren’t being ordered to do anything Nines. I’m trying to help you with environmental enrichment. So you can be rid of this restless feeling.” He still didn’t understand but nodded anyway. He could give this environmental enrichment thing a try. At the very least it couldn’t make things any worse. Connor smiled and that seemed to be the end of it.

As it turned out the ‘Do not eat!’ warning on the play slime Connor kept in his desk applied to androids too. Connor seemed annoyed as he helped to clean out his systems. Nines wasn’t sure if it came from a place of concern or because he was no down a container of slime. Either way, Nines decided slime was not the way he wanted to enrich his environment. It was time to look for something else. His search didn’t go well. Fidget toys, while interesting, didn’t hold up against his grip strength. Computer games were predictable and the holes in their code were not that interesting to exploit or try to patch. Puzzle cubes were too easily solved. There was nothing that didn’t involve disrupting the station in some way what could keep him occupied. He was bored once again and it was staring to get frustrating. He spent a lot of time observing Connor and how he kept busy. It came from efforts to seem more human, in making conversation and using his breaks even though he didn’t need to. Nines wasn’t about to do that, he wasn’t human and there were no benefits to pretending that he was. The boredom was just going to stick around then. He would adjust for it like he did with everything else. It would be fine, just another part of his existence.

The solution to his ever-present boredom presented itself during a particularly drawn out case. They were on the trail of a serial killer and Gavin was starting to spend more of his nights at the station. The time Nines once had to himself was gone. Boredom changed to annoyance and from that annoyance came a plan. Gavin was human and humans needed sleep, but he couldn’t sleep if he was working nights. So he drank coffee in it’s place. Coffee that was nearly black with an unsettling amount of sugar added to it. Coffee seemed to be Gavin’s way to decompress, the way being alone had been for Nines. The station after hours was the only place he was able to be entirely alone. Something that was now being tampered with by Gavin’s constant presence. A fair course of action seemed to be to mess with Gavin’s coffee. It was just a matter of finding his moment. Gavin went through cups of coffee pretty quickly so it came down to either making a cup for him, or waiting for the case to pull him in and tampering with a cup he had made himself.

That problem solved itself when Gavin got up to do something. Nines was quick to seize the opportunity. He took the unguarded coffee cup and headed for the breakroom. He didn’t know how long Gavin would be gone for so he had to be fast. Nines didn’t account for the possibility of the salt lid being loose. It came off in his rush and more salt than he planned wound up in the coffee, but that was fine. He stirred it until he was certain all of it had dissolved, fixed the salt container, and made for Gavin’s desk. He put the cup back in it’s place and the liquid had settled by the time Gavin got back to his desk. To human eyes it looked like an unassuming cup of coffee. A normal cup of coffee had probably been what Gavin was expecting from the size of the drink he took. His reaction was immediate and Nines was elated. Surprise, fear, disgust, and then frustration rolled across Gavin’s face in rapid succession. Then he locked eyes with Nines and finished the entire cup in one go. This was going to be fun. On top of that, Connor had been right. Environmental enrichment was a good thing once he found something that worked.

He had only planned to do it once, but Gavin made it so easy. He was a decent detective, by human standards, but his situational awareness could use some work. When he was in a place he deemed safe, Gavin would have all of his guards down. He did try to get back at Nines, which was something he was ready for. Gavin altered his thirium, sent him a link to a song; which he later learned was called Rick Rolling. None of it phased him, if anything it was amusing. When revenge didn’t work, Gavin resorted to hypervigilance. Any cup he left unattended around Nines was thrown away and replaced once he got back. Gavin threw away a lot of untampered coffee because he assumed Nines altered it, but he would still accept the coffee Nines gave him. Those ones were always salted and Gavin reacted with genuine surprise every time. As entertaining as it had originally been, even this became boring. He would get Gavin coffee from the breakroom, he would be surprised to learn it was salted, and they would move on. His one source of entertainment had become routine, it was just another part of his day.

Gavin’s hypervigilance had changed too, now he wouldn’t accept coffee from anyone. Which combined with Nines’s boredom made things even more difficult. Gavin didn’t bury himself in work to the point of oblivion anymore. Nines at the very least had made him wary of otherwise comfortable surroundings. He knew to be better aware of himself. While that at large was a good thing, it didn’t bode well for Nines’s environmental enrichment. Things picked up again. Like they always did around the anniversary of the Revolution, and Gavin began to stay late once again. He was just as wary of Nines, and would stay at his desk until he was out of coffee and had to make more or risk falling asleep. This week though, Nines had a little luck. Gavin had gone and mouthed off to the wrong kind of android and had a few new bruises to show for it. He was sore and that meant every once in a while he would get up to stretch or do a lap around the station. That left his desk, and in turn his coffee, unattended. It took a few nights for Nines to nail down a pattern and now he had a plan. It was only a matter of waiting.

Midnight was the next time Gavin got up to do a lap around the station. Assuming that he wouldn’t stop for a break, Nines had ten minutes to get this done. Once Gavin was far enough away Nines took his half full coffee cup and headed for the breakroom. He poured the coffee out, rinsed the cup, added cream and the questionable amount of sugar in the bottom, then poured the waiting decaf over the top until it reached the halfway point. Once it was stirred and settled it looked exactly the same as the previous cup. He placed it back on the desk and waited. If Gavin suspected anything when he got back, he didn’t voice it. When four am rolled around he was beginning to nod off. At four-thirty he checked the cup and then looked at Nines like he had done something to declare war. By five he was asleep and by five-thirty he had been asleep long enough that Nines deemed it safe to draw on his face. All that was left to do was wait for Gavin to wake up and take notice. It wasn’t a solid solution to his constant boredom, but this environmental enrichment thing was making him a more creative problem solver. That had to count for something.