#this one's getting TAGGED bc i spent TIME on it & bc ive been trying to articulate my thoughts on holmes & susato for ages

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

*KICKS THE DOOR DOWN* WWWAIT FREYA I HAVE MIXED FEELINGS ON FANDOMS VIEW OF THIS SHIP I NEED TO KNOW UR OPINION. HOMUMIKU???

WKSHJSHJDBJHAHAHAH HIIIII, GRACE!!!! ❤️💕💞💝💗💖💘💓💕💞💖💞💘

Homumiko (HUGE spoilers for DGS after the bingo sheet):

I have been waiting to get into this ship properly, because I have THOUGHTS and I need to be forced to get them out coherently.

Let's get into the basic ship itself. Honestly? No comment. I think hmmk cheats a bit by relying on the literal decades people have spent shipping Holmes and Watson together, and I doubt that they would be half as popular without this history; but, as someone who has never had strong feelings about HolmesWatson either way, I don't have that bias! Even if we're just going off of DGS and looking at how they complement and trust each other, and are obviously more comfortable around one another than most other people, I don't really have a strong opinion on them. I do think they're close, but whether that bond is platonic, romantic, sexual or some mix of the two is just not something I particularly care about. You know who I do care about, though?

Susato-san.

OKAY, SIT DOWN, EVERYONE BECAUSE THE SHIP BINGO PART OF THIS IS OVER, AND NOW WE'RE GOING TO TALK ABOUT THE PARTS OF HMMK I DO CARE ABOUT AND WHY THAT ACTUALLY HAS VERY LITTLE TO DO WITH THEM AND EVERYTHING TO DO WITH HER.

Let's get this out of the way first. Based on my very modern sensibilities, I take a rather harsh stance on Mikotoba's parenting.

Do I think he loves his daughter? Sure. But which parts of his daughter? Because it's very easy to love a child who is always obedient, elegant and the literal embodiment of idealised Japanese womanhood without knowing or truly even looking at her. I think Susato made it easy for him to love her, because she believed she had to earn it. Her father left when she was born, consumed by grief over her mother's death -- her mother, whom she killed. I know the game tries to justify this by saying it was Jigoku who dragged him away (and I do think him leaving was good for him, because I doubt he would have been a good father even if he'd stayed due to his grief), but the point is that he still left. For six years. And when he returned, he didn't even return because of her (whether she knew that from the moment she met him or not is debatable, but I think, at least on a subconscious level, she knew. And, of course, it's also debatable whether he could have returned sooner because of his commitment as a transfer student, but the Mikotobas are a powerful family, and, if Soseki could return before his period of learning was fully up, I think he would have been able to pull strings to return home if he wanted to).

This falls under speculation, so I understand not agreeing with it, but I don't think Mikotoba ever properly spoke to Susato when she was a child, especially not about what he did in England. I believe that a part of the reason why Susato started reading the Sherlock Holmes stories to begin with was because they featured a doctor in London, like her father had been, and she wanted to feel closer to him through those stories. And it probably worked! Her father probably did start engaging with her more after after she picked them up, because it was an easy way to connect with her. That's why I believe she was so insistent on the existence of John H. Watson, as a doctor, when she met Iris and learnt the truth.

There's this distance between Susato and her father which glimpse in moments in the game, like how he remarks on her lack of composure in court (suggesting that he isn't used to seeing her yamato nadeshiko mask slip), how he less requests her trust and more orders or expects it forthright, and how he seems reluctant to face the parts of her that inconvenience him (like how he asks her to play the koto when he isn't home and how, when faced by her real anger, he looks to Holmes to explain the situation rather than actually attempt to himself).

HOWEVER, in the setting of the game (Meiji-era Japan), I will concede that Mikotoba is a fantastic father. He may not have been very present in her life growing up, but men largely weren't expected to be. Their jobs were to provide for their children, not nurture them. And Mikotoba went well beyond his duty in that regard. Add to that the fact that he had her properly educated, ensured she knew how to defend herself, and allowed her to pursue her studies overseas at a level that was on par with any man, and you can see that he's really quite a great father; which is why I don't think he sees his absence as a flaw or even notices he was absent. Susato, though, does.

Now, Susato is obviously a product of her time, too, so I believe she'd be insulted if anyone was to suggest that her father or childhood was lacking in some way. That being said, I do believe she is aware of the distance between them in a way he is not. I think her affection for him is founded on a sense of duty and filial piety rather than pure love (although, obviously, she does love him), and, as she grew older, she stopped vying for his affection; hence why she's obsessed with the Great Detective more so than anyone else when we meet her. I also think that this distance contributed to her becoming so attached to Kazuma, in spite of the fact that he kept her at arm's length, too; he may not have allowed her very close, but he was always there, and he saw her for who she truly was. When she leaves at the end of the first game, Susato is not so much anxious that her father is ill as she is shaken -- she seems more upset that she's leaving her Baker Street family rather than that her actual father might be dying, and I think that's because she knows how to live without him. This distance between them, I believe, becomes all the more apparent to her when she goes to London and sees the deep bond held between Iris and Holmes.

And, speaking of, you know who else I think is aware of the distance between them and the part he played in creating that distance? The Great Detective himself, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

See, I think Holmes has always known about Susato. I'm quite sure that, from the moment they met, he knew that Mikotoba was running away from something and that he had left an infant daughter back home. He just didn't care.

We don't know what Holmes was like when he was younger, but I believe he was a lot closer to how he appears in a lot of modern adaptations and how Watson describes him in some of the Sherlock Holmes stories: the 'cold, calculating computer' character. I don't think it's a stretch to think that Holmes viewed marriage and children as mere distractions and interferences to the mind; and Mikotoba was, presumably, his first real friend. He wasn't going to let something pesky like a baby back home detract from his friend's obviously sterling character and brain! After all, it's a lot easier to ignore this nebulous, abstract entity when you simply consider its existence, and thus its abandonment, unimportant. It's a lot easier when you don't know what it's like to be a father yourself. It's a lot easier when you don't know her.

Here's the thing: I believe Holmes's image of and relation to Mikotoba began changing from the time he started raising Iris. Suddenly, that inconsequential baby seemed to bear quite a bit of consequence, actually. But it was still all right to keep dismissing her, because maybe Mikotoba's baby wasn't special the way Iris was. Maybe she was a brat or an idiot, and really not worth much time at all! Maybe she could've lived without him and been perfectly fine, regardless...? As time went on, I believe the excuses he made for Mikotoba's decision all those years ago became increasingly flimsy, but he was still able to hold onto them because The Daughter was still an indistinct figure in his mind. She wasn't quite real.

That is, until he met her.

In the game, Holmes tends to keep a certain width between himself and Susato. He very rarely initiates conversation with her the way he does Ryuunosuke, and from a Doylist (ha) perspective, this is obviously because Ryuunosuke is... the main character. Looking at it from a narrative perspective, though, I think he was afraid of hurting more than he already has and must.

Holmes is a very resolute man. He sticks by his decisions regardless of what anyone else thinks, so I don't think he ever regretted what he did. However, I do think he felt guilty. Certainly, he didn't quite take her father away from her, but he did play a role in keeping him from her for so long. I think there was a part of him that consciously guided Mikotoba away from thinking about Japan while they lived together, because, well... he didn't want him to leave.

There's an interesting layer to the separation that Holmes creates with Susato, because, beyond the distance he maintains between her and himself, he also keeps her identity separate from her father's. Contrary to how he refers to Ryuunosuke by his last name, Holmes only ever calls Susato "Miss Susato" or "my dear (madame)", and never "Miss Mikotoba". I view this is his way of, perhaps subconsciously, dividing from that little girl he once decided did not matter. And it's interesting because, to an extent, he tries to do with her and Kazuma, too.

In the SS Burya case, despite meeting Susato first and seeing how affected she is by Kazuma's "death", Holmes largely ignores her in favour of focusing on Ryuunosuke and his bond with Kazuma. He calls Kazuma Ryuunosuke's "dear companion" and pretty much only interacts with Susato when he has little other choice... until he sees her cry.

See, I believe that when Holmes found out Susato was going to England and was about to be wrapped up in the whole messy affair, he was fully committed to Not Giving a Damn about Her. Sure, he would let her and Kazuma live with him, but by no means was he going to allow himself to grow attached to her because, again, he values his relationship and history with Mikotoba too much for it to get complicated in this way. Susato's relative composure throughout the case helps him hold on to this resolution; however, when he catches that final conversation between her and Ryuunosuke in the cabin, he is finally forced to see and acknowledge the amount of pain she is truly in. It forces him to at last face the fact that he can't avoid or fake aloofness around her any longer, because she is not some nebulous, distant entity he can continue to ignore. She is an actual girl with a fiercely strong spirit, a brilliant mind and real, human emotions. A girl whom he's hurt twice-over now and must continue hurting until all his lies finally come to light.

When he makes that decision to enter the cabin and console her the only way he knows how, he throws away any hope he had of feeling anything but apathy towards her. In truth, he probably didn't have much hope of that to begin with, because at his core, Sherlock Holmes is a good man, and he cares.

He cares for her, too, even though he may have no right to. How could he not, when she loves him so openly, trusts him so readily, saves his life? How could he not, when she comes to him in the middle of the night with a secret she can't tell anyone else because his judgement is the only one she wholly trusts and believes in? How could he not, when she refuses to accept he lied despite the living, breathing evidence he did until he admits it himself? How could he not, when after everything he has done, she still looks at him the way she always has and says that she's proud that her father is the assistant of "the Great Detective"?

How could anyone not? How could Mikotoba not... love her the second he laid eyes on her?

And of course this doesn't shatter his love for Mikotoba -- he has no right to these feelings in the first place: no matter how indignant or guilty he may feel, it doesn't change the fact that he has been lying to and manipulating her the entire time they've known one another. He can't even bring himself to tell her that he's been lying; he has to go through Ryuunosuke instead, because, even after all this time, he still can't face the woman whom he's done nothing but cause pain for from the moment she was born. When he can't even give her that ounce of respect, who is he to judge Mikotoba?

So he doesn't. Till the end of the game, he keeps Susato at a distance and pretends that everything between him and Mikotoba is as it was from the start. But, inside, I think he knows it isn't. Because I think Holmes can see that Mikotoba doesn't feel half as guilty about what they've done as he does, and that he doesn't view the fact that he left Susato 16 years ago as a real problem. And while he doesn't judge Mikotoba for that, I don't think he can look past it anymore. That final investigation and dance of deduction, to me, is less an assurance that they are still the same partners they were before, and more a final farewell to their old, uncomplicated bond -- the one that did exist before they grew to love other people and understand what love truly meant to both of them.

Going back to the ship itself, I think shipping them pre-DGS works perfectly well. They both had a huge impact on each other's life and changed one another for the better; Holmes by drawing Mikotoba out from his grief, and Mikotoba by pulling Holmes from his life of solitude and loneliness. They needed each other, but it is also because of these reasons that I think there was an issue of codependency between them, hence the semi-horrible for each other box I gave them. With Mikotoba, it's clear cut. Holmes helped him run away from his very real issues at home and allowed him to live like he was a bachelor with zero familial obligations again. With Holmes, it gets a bit more foggy, but I believe that Mikotoba basically allowed him to live believing he was the only person Holmes would ever truly connect with and properly befriend. Holmes is obviously his own person and whatnot, but I do think there was a bit of unhealthy attachment there on his end if not both.

During DGS and post-DGS is where their ship gets more complicated for me, because, while Susato is still very much there at the beginning of their relationship, her role in their lives and what they did to her becomes impossible to ignore once she and Holmes actually meet. I don't believe that they can just pick up from where they left off because there is now (imo) a fundamental disagreement in how they view their actions and how it affected her. So, even if they do go back to being lovers or whatever afterwards, I feel that there should be this chasm or weight between them that they simply don't talk about or acknowledge in any way. Because I don't think they'd discuss it. Holmes because it isn't his place, Mikotoba because he sees it as a non-issue (maybe he doesnt even notice this distance), and both because sweeping unpleasantness under the rug is so ingrained into their cultures.

My main issue with the way this ship is often portrayed post-DGS (why they got a 50-50 on the I would erase them from existence box) is that it ignores what happened with Susato. The few times I've seen the concern that she might have an issue with their relationship even brought up in hmmk works is always because they're gay. Which, like!! Fair!!! It's the 1800s, I get it, but!!!! You're ignoring the actual, very big issue for why she might be hurt and that's because DGS ends with her finding out that three of the men she's closest to have been lying and using her for their own means her entire life!!!!!!!! And she just has to take it!!!!!!!

Which brings me to the second most popular interpretation of this ship which doesn't just put Iris and Susato in a box somewhere unseen, and that's the one where all four of them are a peaceful happy family with 0 issues! And this one bothers me because it seems like it's taking what Susato said at the end of the reveal as what she 100% sincerely meant down to her core, rather than something she had to say because (1) it is her duty to honour her father no matter what, and (2) because Iris was there. When she learns the entire truth, I don't think Susato knows what she truly thinks or feels about any of it; but she sees Iris, and she sees this little girl who was abandoned through her circumstances as a baby, named after her mother, and forced to grow up much sooner than she should have been, and she sees a girl who is more her sister than anyone else. So she does what she always has and tucks away her own emotions so she might tend to someone else's. She has been the perfect daughter her whole life; she can be the perfect sister.

Even if you don't subscribe to the, admittedly, harsh view of Mikotoba's parenting that I do, I don't see how you can get away from the fact that they still lied to her for a significant portion of time. Especially from Holmes, whom she trusted and believed in more than anyone else! In the face of his shoddy deductions, she still held onto her unwavering belief that he was a genius and a good man, and then it comes out that he's just been lying to her from the first day he met her. I just can't extract the ship from their treatment of Susato, so when I say that I would erase the ship from existence, it's mainly about these two bits. As with Asoryuu, the primary reason why I don't ship them personally is because I can't do that to her.

And, obviously, it's just shipping and fun and games, and everyone should feel free to ship whoever in whatever way they want bUT IN A SPECIAL WORLD MADE PERFECTLY FOR ME. iris would be perfectly oblivious, and susato would have tossed both holmes and mikotoba into the thames and left them to figure it out. In a world that must still vaguely make sense with the canon of the game, though, then Holmes would have given Mikotoba the boot and taken the kids; because he may be a coward, but at least I can see that he knows he fucked up, and he allows Susato to set the terms of their relationship, just like he does Iris.

Anyway, I'm so sorry for how long, convoluted and only tangentially-related to the ask this is, but thank you so much for it, Grace!!!! I don't think I quite got down what I meant precisely, but it's the closest to coherency I've ever gotten so. Thank you 💖💕💗💓💕💘💕

#this one's getting TAGGED bc i spent TIME on it & bc ive been trying to articulate my thoughts on holmes & susato for ages #homumiko #susato mikotoba #dgs sherlock holmes #yujin mikotoba #dai gyakuten saiban #the great ace attorney #dgs #tgaa #honestly i feel like i still didnt quite say what i wanted to but this is the best ive got so far. i like the way their relationships are #handled and depicted in canon but the fanon ones just never sat right with me #i feel like i came across as very harsh to yuujin here wjsjdgak i think he's a good man and he did his best!! grief gets the best of us #sometimes. but i cant get over how he seems to show 0 compunction for leaving susato behind as a baby and openly saying without a hint of #'oh i was also ready to be with my daughter finally' that he was FORCED out of london. like???? ALSO the way he says he wants ryuu to go #back with him & leaves susato out to dry??? i know he says it's respecting her freedom and whatnot but doesnt that seem a LITTLE neglectful #in a way? like it can very easily be read as 'oh i dont need you with me' or 'i cant be bothered to worry about you right now' especially #when he's already abandoned her once like. !!!!! and even if you dont view it that way doesnt it seem a bit dismissive of her role in those #cases? susato was crucial to all the cases ryuunosuke won (and he would attest to that) but yuujin makes it seem like it was all ryuu and #just disregards how important susato was there and i. i dont like that. #some might say that i am unfairly biased towards holmes and that's fair. i kind of am wjsdh but the reason why i dont bash on his parenting #as much is because he never pushes iris to love or respect him as her father. he very much leaves that up to her so when iris asserts at #the end that holmes IS her father you know that there is a real sense of love between them. that's why that scene is so important and #that's what validates their father-daughter relationship #ofc u could still argue im biased bc he did leave a 10 y/o to go on a cruise for who knows how long so. yea. valid WKASGAKSH #anyway. thank you SO much and im so sorry i completely went off the rails there. i hope anyone who read everything got... something from it #💕💘💓💖💖💘💖💕❤️💝💞💗💘💞💞💕💓💞💕💖💖💖💖💖💕 #sorrry again grace 😔 i hope i came a little close to giving you what you wanted #mikotoba susato #mikotoba yuujin #dgs spoilers

[skyeateyourdonuts]

weeoo

#this is gonna be me talking in tags today #ive been rather sleep deprived lately trying to keep up with everything around me #and its been taking a toll on my health like #if i go too long like this i tend to feel more lethargic and my allergies kick in #i got a sore throat bc my room has been Freezing and then i get headaches way way easier #often times my face will flush but its just my nose and idk why #well anyways lmao i just aint feelin great due to lack of sleep #so i emailed my teachers and stayed home and others might say this wasnt it #but i can barely get to sleep at all these days and just bed ridding myself #seemed like the only way for my body to be like #'fine 🙄 u can sleep' lmao #thats actually one of the worst symptoms is im restless i just Cant grt to sleep no matter how hard i try #ive had a couple days where i was running on 2-3 hours bc i spent even longer Laying there #anyways i hope this makes a difference im tired of feeling tired and shitty #luckily my mood has weirdly been high #its just my sleep and health that are low #i think when the sleepiest soldiers are unable to get sleep thats when u know smths wrong #i think also so much is happening and me trying to keep up is taking more outta me than i expected #im a gal who gets overwhelmed easily even if im happy w whats happening lmao #tho im not Happy im more In a Good Mood lmao #side tangent but i HATE being an adult who doesnt have like idk Help lmao #like my dad was so nice to me sometimes and helped me sometimes #i could go a whole day sleeping bc id be fucking exhausted #and hed qake me up and ask me when i last ate and if i couldnt decide but itd been too long #hed make smth for the both pf us or hed make it For me and id just be able to like recover lmao #ah adulthood is hard lmao #alright im done #gata #no need to read <3 yall

[minglana]

so crazy seeing my cousins post aesthetic pics of my village street. maam thats a rundown house with the roof caved in next to the ugliest house in the village

#and the street pavement is green bc no one cleans it so its full of like algae or whatever the fuck #bc of the winter humidity (and fog). like thats ugly as hell😭 #thr comparison between my cousins and i is crazy in regards to how we approach the village #all my other cousins post or have posted aesthetic pics of random streets or like. roads #bc i think to them its just another village. like yeah their grandma/grandpa is from there #but i think that just spending the holidays here (instead of like. staying 3+ months in the summer and normal weekends) #has made them treat the village as just another place. idk what even im trying to say but #it just feels kinda disgenuine when they aesthetize (?) the village like that #like for example my friend who has LIVED in the village her entire life doesnt post stuff like that #she posts stuff from her house or something. but not of like random streets yknow. and if she posts something from the street #its bc something else is the focus. and shes not just using it as a pretty backdrop or whatever #ok that last tag is what i was trying to get at i just didnt know how to word it #and yeah i think the more time youve lived or spent in the village the less you make it into a pretty backdrop #ive even seen my (other) cousins mom do this. and yeah shes older but also the house they have is just a vacation house #in comparison to for example my family. where our house has always been lived in (so far) so i think it just felt... #(it=going to the village) less like a 'getaway' and more as just like. changing living locations for x time yknow #idk idk. maybe its just my weird perception of my village and the weird attatchment i have to it #but yeah #z xarre

[morganbritton132]

ahhhh i just spent the last three days reading every post on the emtts tag and im in love with your whole little universe. i kept meaning to make a list of all of the little things but i kept getting distracted and forgetting so i only started at april 18th bc i NEED (subject to your willingness to expand/care act this particular part of your universe) to hear more about all of the little stories of steve getting arrested (particularly hopper arresting steve?? and them breaking into steves parents house?)

thanks for this amazing space!! you’ve made a universe that ive been thinking about constantly and that expands on the characters in such a beautiful mundane way, its very cool!!

ps i just read one of the follow ups in the death threat part where steve admits he doesn’t want to stop teaching bc dustin asks eddie about it and i think im about to cry holy shit

pps on the death threat part with diane oh god. like just steve having to figure it out in front of her and her explaining to him and him admitting to just not being ok i just

First, thank you so much! This is all so very nice of you to say and props for getting through everything in three days. It is quite a bit! It’s honestly amazing how much has been written in such a short amount of time. I’m only going to cover Steve getting ‘arrested’ and I’ll touch on Steve and Eddie’s breaking and entering at a later date.

Steve started having seizures a little after they closed the gate on the Upside Down for good or, well. They started noticing that he was having seizures after they closed the gate. It was heavily implied in the undertone of his doctor’s voice that these seizures were likely going on for a while and that they likely not going to stop anytime soon.

Steve took this news as well as anybody could.

Everybody was kinda waiting for him to have a breakdown over it, but it never happened because Steve was – well, he wasn’t fine. Obviously. But it is what it is, right? If the worst thing to come out of all this Upside Down stuff is that he’s a little dumber than he was before than how could he complain?

Max was learning how to walk again.

What Steve didn’t take well was his doctor telling him that he wasn’t allowed to drive anymore. In fact, he did not take that news at all. He completely ignored it, and he ignored the looks that Robin when give him when he drove himself to work, and he would say, “It’s not like I’m driving the kids around or anything. It’s just me.”

“And that’s supposed to make me worry less?”

“I pull over if I feel weird.”

He wasn’t actually driving all that much anyways. Robin got her permit and Eddie got the all-clear to drive again, so no one needed to rope Nancy into lecturing him about ‘the dangers.’ He didn’t need Dustin’s complaining or Eddie’s ‘hey, maybe you should listen to them’ or Joyce stopping him on his way out the door. And he didn’t need Hopper.

Steve was learning to accept that sometimes he needed help. He was doing better, but Steve practically lived alone despite the jokes people were making about him being at Eddie’s all the time, and he wasn’t going to bother someone just because he needed toilet paper.

Steve was sitting in his car outside of the Fair Mart, trying to remember why he needed to go there in the first place, when there was a knock on his window. He startled and blinked hard twice before looking over at the drivers’ side window. He frowned.

Hopper was standing there and he looked annoyed. He gestured for him to get out of the car and Steve frowned more, fumbling with his seatbelt before pushing the door open. For lack of anything else to do once he was out of the car, Steve said, “Hey, what’s up?”

Hopper frowned more like he was annoyed with Steve which was, in itself, was really annoying because Steve didn’t do anything. He was just here to buy… He was here to get… Wait. “Huh?”

Hopper sighed loudly and repeated himself. Slowly. “Give me. Your keys.”

Maybe it was Hopper’s tone or maybe there was some stock in what his doctor said mood swings, or maybe Steve was just tired of everybody treating him like a baby that needed taken care of and watched. Just when Hopper reached to take the keys out of his hand, Steve shoved him away.

Everything kinda blurred at the edges and the headache that’s been wedged in the corner of Steve’s jaw pulsed. He didn’t really take a breath until Hopper shoved him against the hood of his car.

Hopper cuffed metal around his wrists and said, “Good going, Harrington.”

Steve yanked on his arm and snapped back, “You’re not even a cop anymore. You can’t arrest me.”

“Call it a citizen’s arrest.”

Eddie laughed for four minutes of Steve’s five minute phone call at the police station. He laughed so hard that Steve knew that he was holding his side where the bites were the deepest because they were still tender, and Steve just rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up. Are you gonna get me?”

“Hm, yeah,” Eddie grinned through the phone. “Yeah. It’s a little ironic that the Prom K-“

Steve hung up the phone.

The ‘charges’ that Hopper (not a cop) threatened to ‘throw the book at him’ for were driving without a valid driver’s license. There was a part of Steve that knew that this was all just for show to teach him a lesson, but still argued that he had a valid license because no one took it away from him, and actually, “This is false imprisonment, right? Maybe I should call my family lawyer.”

It was even more annoying that Eddie – rolling into the building smelling like weed an hour later – agreed with Hopper. 

#I want to make one thing clear: Eddie is high as shit when he goes to the police station #also wanted to imply that Steve might’ve had a seizure in the parking lot of the fair mart #I know I’ve been a bit slow responding to people’s prompts and that’s probs going to continue for a bit #there’s a lot going on irl right now and I’ve hit an emotional wall #still going to post though obvs #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson #jim hopper

[jester-lover]

hi !!! i saw ur hobie x desi reader and im in LOVEE

i saw u had requests open so i was wondering if you could do one for miguel ohara ?? if u do pls tag me !! i need more desi fics and i'd write them but ive been so busy </3

Miguel with a Desi! S/O (headcanons)

cw/ fem! Reader, including multiple desi cultures bc my girlies need all the representation we can get (it’s slim pickings out here) all fluff, mentions of insecurities (sorry I didn't do a lil drabble, I could not think of one)

Hobie version!

He's obsessed with you!

This man wakes up every morning to bask in your greatness

Miguel often has a hard time understanding his own emotions, so this relationship might start out a bit rocky because of the insecurities he has about starting relationships

(I know very little abt comics! Miguel, but I do know he had many girlfriends, so…)

He loves you in any clothing, but something about seeing you cultural clothing just makes him so happy

If the two of you are going somewhere, he’s making a conscious effort to match whatever traditional clothes you're wearing

Your parents love him, no doubt.

Miguel is a serious, family-oriented man, who cares about you! They love him, he’s part of the family.

He cooks you amazing Mexican food, and you cook him amazing Desi food

The entire spider society is at yalls door each night, fighting tooth and nail for a plate

He especially loves it when you make him more simple, homey dishes, like buttery parathas with achaar, or roti with saag paneer (iykyk)

Look at Miguel’s hair and tell me he doesn’t oil it, you CAN’T

You two most definitely spent Sunday afternoons watching soap operas (Mexican or Desi!) and oiling each others hair 

He takes this ritual very seriously

“Keep your head still, I’m trying to get to the back of your scalp!”

He’s the type to spend time and effort massaging the oil into your scalp and roots

You and Miguel spend hours at the local Asian grocery store, just wandering down the aisle

Even though he swears he’s only gonna go with you for 20 minutes or something

Seeing you enjoy life’s simple pleasures makes him happy too

#reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #female reader #fem!reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderverse spoilers #spiderverse x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x reader #desi reader #desi!reader

[alegator]

hiii everyone :D i miss tumblr so bad and the ability to make long form blog posts ugh twitter is not the same plus the site and app are literally so shit. even though the tumblr app is not much better sometimes!! ive decided i want to post more on here to continue my little virtual diary…. I love the tagging system and most of all, love being able to look back and read my own updates!!! it’s crazy how it can help me recall the exact feeling of that moment… it feels special :) Twitter is great for quick fleeting thoughts so i wanna make lengthy life posts on here as a little time capsule, so i can have fun looking back and reading all my posts 10 years from now (if this site still exists. but i joined in 2011 and its still here so who knows). plus ive been posting my entire life on here for YEARS so who cares i will be vulnerable and over share and shit!!!!!! as is tumblr tradition… fuck it if youre my cousin on my homestuck side you can have my SSN.

moving on, here are fun life updates:

- celebrated my 11th anniversary on Feb 14th with the love of my life, Tenma!!!! i have been affectionately calling it the 7/11 anniversary since it’s been 11 years together, but also 7 years married 🤯 it actually fucks me up so bad that 2017 was 7 years ago like. genuinely lol FUCKKK HOOWWW 2017 should’ve been like 3 years ago. we choose to get married on the same day Tenma asked me out, which is also Valentine’s Day, and it was the best decision of all time for SO many reasons. maybe i will make a fun big post detailing those thoughts that another time!! we spent our anniversary day trying out a new coffee spot (so cute and SO pink omg), taking photo booth pictures at a new spot, exploring cute shops, and having an insanely delicious set menu i think maybe 6 courses? at a very fancy restaurant. i think 3 years ago we tried a new restaurant on our anniversary w their set Valentine’s Day menu course and it was so good, fun, and the best way to try out new foods so we’ve kept it going and i LOVE IT!!!!! i am already excited to see what tenma picks out for next year lol. finished the night by watching In The Mood For Love at our favorite local movie theater and i LOVED the movie, the whole end until bedtime we were just talking about it and dissecting it together. i love our life!!!!!!!!!

-tenma and i went to disneyland at the end of February for our anniversary trip!! ive gone before but they haven’t. IT WAS SO FUCKING FUN i am not a Disney fan at all but i love disneyland idk it’s just fun as fuck… um my feet were fucked afterwards lol but so worth it. one day at disneyland and the next at California aventure i wanna go back already but most importantly, tenma was already talking about wanting to go back and that makes me so happy bc it means they really enjoyed it!!! yay!!!! they even went on rides they thought were really scary just so we could try them together just once and that filled my heart with joy. then we also got to meet my online friend and had hotpot together. DELICIOUS i want to go back and explore LA next time and see more friends!!!! we are maybe planning a trip to San Fran in a few months though as the consulate is there to get my passport so that will take priority over any other trips☝🏼

-I GOT MY GREENCARD YEAGHHRHRHFJF!!!!!!!! ok actually i got it last year lol i wasn’t sure if i should put that on here but actually im so happy so fuck it!!! and then we celebrated by having a fancy dinner and I shared the news w the waiter who said he also did the same process w his wife! and yes i cried when i got my greencard idc i am HAPPY! crazy bc i got DACA for the first time in 2013 and then in 2023 i got my greencard… it’s been a fucking rollercoaster. and tenmas been there literally every step of the way…. Tenma is my rock I love them so much im crying typing this bc of how much i love them and how much they always support me and augnfngnfmg

-concerts this year have been Sonic symphony, kikuo/bo en/gus, Hannah Diamond, and hatsune miku (mikuexpo 2024)!!!!!!!! i loved all of the concerts genuinely so fun and next month i am taking my youngest sibling to a concert of a guy I don’t know but they love him so we will go and have a blast 🫡 idk if I’ll buy more tickets to more concerts but even if I don’t, it’s been a really really good year concert wise and i got to experience so many fun shows i never thought i would see live before!!

-spent time with lovely friends and celebrated old friendships and new ones yaaaay i love my friends and im blessed to have a good support system and I can’t wait to see what new friends I make in the future….

-I have a cold rn and took nighttime meds and unfortunately they are starting to hit so it’s time to say goodnight to tumblr…

If you read this far ummm ok weirdo… lol just kidding but i will try and post my lil life updates and pics more often so that not all my posts are like. months worth of writing… or maybe I won’t and the next time I make a post will be in a year idk!!!! this site is full of so many memories both good and bad and it’s dear to my lil heart, even if the feel isn’t the same since everyone mass migrated to Twitter, I want to come back here more often and make new memories whenever I can. goodnight 💤

#gatortext #such is life as ale #lol I haven’t used that tag in so long the last post on there has me gagged like. WHAT

[lunar-gl1tch]

@stickers-on-a-laptop tagged me in a getting to know you meme!

LAST SONG

Climax Jump (DENLINER ver) at least according to my phone

CURRENTLY READING

i spent all evening reading An Unauthorised Fan Treatise on the nature of the relationship between actors Rob Hennings and Nathan O’Donnell on TV show Loch & Ness, by @gottiewrites

it's really good!!!! the framing device is so intensely nostalgic to me and it really adds to the creeping dread as things unravel

CURRENTLY WATCHING

Somehow still catching Geats every sunday with @skajador!!! favorite weekly ritual

I am trying to finish Wizard but am stuck at the myna episode lol ive been busy

I've watched a couple of kingohger eps and i really enjoy it but it is visually A LOT

and I'm watching Den-o with @darinyan!

if you don't mind im gonna add one question bc i know a lot of us dabble

(if you write) CURRENTLY WRITING

and i'm struggling to write my last chapter of bravesnipe bc im distracted by ren, shinji, and Lawnmower the kitten

tagging uhh: @decadentmousse (if u have time i know ur reading wild shit lol) @morbid-barbie @werewolfcandy and anybody who wants to

#also im super high lol

[haeroniel-doliet]

A lil updates and thoughts going on rn! Mostly about art again :') putting it under read more tho bc it got away from me again all rambly lmao

Hooo wheee! Life has been a little busy huh. Finally going to work again even if it is pretty much part time, other hobbies im keeping up with, trying to keep up on life admin and its going almost well! Shame im realizing i havent worked on my drawings in well over a month now 😅

Part of me is slightly dreading going back to them rn bc ive spent hours and hours on them already and they still need many hours before i post them....

You know that one guy on like tiktok/youtube shorts whos a really friendly old artist with a hobbit hole studio and does like 1hr paintings that look incredible? Obviously i dont expect myself being rusty and also not with years and years of experience to do the same but wouldn't that be the dream? To be able to just create and be done and happy with it in just an hour or a few and move on. How sad it is how many things i have started and not finished, outting in hours and hours where it doesnt really make even a super significant difference.

Also its that dinluke positivity week thing (god i hope this doesnt show up in the tag lmao sorry) i was really hyped months ago thinking its great prompts and great time to partake in my favourite fandom especially before february 2023 inevitably changes the scene in some way! But all of a sudden mid november is here and thats kinda terrifying! I have no clear idea for any of them, nothing im like desperate to draw and my current drawing doesnt really fit them either. Im thinking maybe i should try like, giving myself idk 2 hrs max to just make something beginning to end and if i hate it its ok i dont have to post it. But maybe i will and it could be fun! Sure i am too tired to properly do anything but idk, even making one post could give me excitement and hype for things i used to enjoy and something that isnt just real life and like job related.

To be fair i could also go for the much more guaranteed dopamine boost and play a video game ive been thinking of playing again for months. Sure i dunno which to choose and im not like super inclined to anything even tho i would like to play multiple of them again, just playing alone is a little boring i guess.

The more i spend just overthinking the quicker my sunday will be over and ill have to do next week and god knows ill be busy!! I should try drawing bc its there floating in my mind and could be easier to slip in into the day routine to do a little here and there rather than like, playing skyrim for 30 mins loll. Or oblivion bc for some reason ive been missing it. Or battlefront, even tho that is really hard to play without really trying my hardest and getting readjusted to the pace of it

Alright ok im gonna set up my digital art stuff, im gonna challenge myself to sketch something on theme for all the prompts and see what ends up catching my attention. If i can do 1 or even a couple of them thatd be really really neat!

[goshawk]

tagged by THE. @castielsupernatural

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to get to know better.

name: jess cinderwingcas

star sign: capricorn

height: 5′5’’

time: 11:30pm ET

birthday: january 8th

favorite bands/artists: ajr, conan gray, olivia rodrigo

last movie: everything everywhere all at once

last show: soup ear gnat rail

when did i create this blog: early december 2020. decided to finally stop lurking on my previous blog which was things i was no longer interested in 

what i post: well i did try to run a spn sideblog at first and keep this nice and pretty. and then i got bored and said fuck it and spent a few days reblogging from that and meeting post limit because i wanted everything here

last thing i googled: if there were goshawk/accipiter specific training techniques in falconry

other blogs: they exist but they are for me <3 storage of links/videos and fics i want to come back to

do i get asks?: not rly. falcon anon tho my beloved <3 hope they’re doing well.

following: 280

average hours of sleep: fuck. its been <5 recently. probably around 7 on the weekends though

instruments: used to know how to play the piano and viola but i can’t read sheet music for shit now. learned part of the americana theme at 2am during finals last winter to procrastinate though

what im wearing: soft fleece shorts and a shirt i got from a hackathon. i coded 0 lines that night but poached all the merch

dream job: realistically? domestic policy advisor/subject matter expert/professor. but if we throw that out, i’d love to be a professional falconer.

dream trip: northern norway. i want to go backpacking at 3am in the summer and go ice climbing in crevasses and see the birdlife up there

nationality: usa

favorite songs: oh this is a constantly rotating list. i return a lot to ajr songs and the other side of paradise by glass animals. some nights by fun. gets me really nostalgia happy-sad. 

last book ive read: know my name by chanel miller. that woman is a powerhouse and i don’t know how she does it

top 3 fictional universes i’d like to live in: alagaësia from the inheritance cycle and the guardians of ga’hoole universe. can’t think of another bc i read mostly realistic fiction after i was done with my fantasy kick. uhhh one where i developed my art skills more and felt comfortable sketching birds on the margins of my papers

@thenightwemetnatural @allegedlyopposed @goatiel @jasminecas @birbs-in-space @citruscas

#thank you for the tag! #:V

[moes-depreposting]

oh god with every passing day my gen X mither starts to behave like a boomer and in fact for some reason out of the blue she now believes that 5g causes cancer and that the only way to prevent it is by walking barefoot

Also she has recently adopted a more "conservative" way of thinking so yeah I'm glad im leaving soon lol

And since i dont want to put this in the tags, she claims that suicide is caused by the devil so you can imagine how it went the only time i openly talked about my suicidal thoughts

Si instead of being understanding she berated me and insisted that if i killed myself i would burn in hell while I was trying not to cry so hard

Like that wasn't recent but it still bothers me because she herself has admitted to me that she got hospitalized twice because she tried to commit suicide by OD so yeah kinda hypocritical on her behalf

I mean I can kinda co exist w my suicidal thoughts and i mostly ignore them but yknow there are times that somethings trigger me so bad that my immediate reaction is to actively try and commit suicide

And I am afraid of telling these things to a therapist because I do not want to go to a hospital and the thought of it scares me

Like my previous psychologist forced me to present more feminine and wear make up and I stg I spent the whole time I was seeing her in a dissociative state bc I couldn't cope

It just felt like she was forcing me to heal years of trauma in a 45 minute session

Lol one thing jumped to the other anyways one last thing

I kinda realized my mom low key didn't want me to leave bc she is codependent on me for a lot of things like online things like payments and whatnot and refuses to learn oh and she openly told me that she had expected me to stay w her and just work and a hospital and go back home to stay w her

Which is definitely not my plan bc i want to do so many things and though I do feel sad bc im leaving at the same time I am getting the freedom ive been craving for so long

And yeah she guilt tripped me by saying i had everything here and there was no need for me to move out??? Like my sister in christ Ive been craving freedom since I was a kid

I will finally get to live my fantasy of living somewhere far far away from them all and I cant wait

[oldmyths]

.

#i hate makin so many posts bc i hate potentially being understood and known by others #and i am sorry ill be quiet in a jiffy i just gotta get this out or else i wont get that hour of sleep before i gotta be Responsible #im not the type of person who enjoys or regularly broadcasts themselves to the world. im outwardly quiet i guess #i prefer to talk with people personally instead of shouting out generally. if that makes sense. ? #this translates to how i feel about my gender/sexuality but this post is abt my gender #ive been feeling like shit lately bc of nbphobic/transphobic things from my family. and places i least expected it #so very few things trigger that kind of reaction from me but when one little instance happens its enough to shatter the walls of tolerance #i spent so long building to be less..sensitive about that shit. #my gender as closely as i could put to words is just ‘me’ as in how i present myself (neutrally) #and i dont particularly lean toward one binary gender..so im nb. and i hate myself so why would i be boastful or proud of who i am? #i love being trans and i love having this complex identity that i dont always understand..but i know i cant present the way i want to ever #its hard. its so fucking hard and there are times i feel disgusting and wrong and bad for being nb because i feel so fake and unreal #but i just had a moment where i really felt. accepted. and supported. it was so stupid too but i really felt that Solidarity(tm) and i cried #im actually still crying bc i worked myself up typing this and bc i feel like. i dunno. like i really am trans and that i belong. #idk if these tags will post but thats where im at these days. still trying 2 accept and love myself. #my trans self. my trans body mind heart and soul.

[philtstone]

For the touches meme: MCU ship of your choice with#8 :)

#8 -- shielding someone with their body

u can also read this on ao3 <3 to say "this prompt got away from me" would be an understatement and yet i still have the temerity to follow it up with "and there might be a part two!" lord. anyway, apologies to kaadhu because she doesn't go here at all but also she did give me the green light to be self-indulgent with this one, so.

the "Jonah Day" was inspired by a scene from Abraxas's phenomenal fic series "Just Two Guys" which was in turn quoting Anne of Green Gables. naturally i had to give it my own little spin. the fic concept itself was inspired by "Jazz Standards Vol 3" by sixes_and_sevens and "In the Woods Somewhere" by @rebellconquerer, both of whom are brilliant authors whose versions of these characters are inspiring in how much they are rich and full of feeling and complexity. i wanted to try my hand at the idea without there being an associated plot arc. hopefully i did it justice bc ive been working on this for a week and i have other Responsibilities so if i dont post it now and be at peace with its imperfections ill never get anything else done. this fic is part of this series and while technically a stand alone i guess the emotional beats of it are very much tied into their previous growing. i wanted to show that they have a process for working through things but that it's inevitably still evolving.

anyway. with that out of the way -- enjoy! (or if you're kaadhu, hopefully i can make it up to u with the star wars prompts im gonna work on next)

It’s one of those days. 

It’s like everyone woke on the wrong side of some bed, and the world has not thought to slow down and accommodate them, and the headaches Sarah has started getting every few weeks, which she refuses to call pre-migraines, have settled at the back of her skull. 

Also, it is raining. Badly.

Cassius used to call ‘em Jonah Days. Only person had it worse in the world, he’d say, was probably Jonah and his whale.

Sarah does not have a whale, but she does have that headache, and has spent all day tracking down a mistake on a license she ordered three weeks ago and trying to make up for the work she missed last week when AJ had the stomach flu and had to spend an afternoon at the hospital. It had just been her at home; Rhodes had called on Sam’s behalf, and Bucky had had to fly out on short notice, something half classified with a tension undercutting it that left Sarah’s tongue feeling dry. He got back in yesterday. Yesterday was not as much of a misery as today but still dragged itself out, and was prolonged enough that they only had time for a brief kiss hello and the curt acknowledgement that Sam was alright. Whatever had happened, Bucky was not happy about it. She’d noticed, of course. His face was drawn, and everything he said came out like the second half was being held as a careful package at the back of his throat. Sarah, distracted by life, had not thought about it too hard. On the rare occasion the rarer mission (getting rarer still) is genuinely awful, she has realized he’ll always find a way to call her. Sometimes, as a reassurance for her. Other times, for his own sanity. Once he called barely three hours after he left, like by some prescient intuition he knew she’d be sitting at the kitchen table on the verge of a panic (another one of those Days). Another time, in the middle of the dairy aisle at Wal-Mart, she picked up the phone to him crying. 

Nothing like that happened this time. He’d said I’m fine, quietly, into her temple, and Sarah had been too tired to try to coax anything else out of him, so she let it be. 

When she gets home, today – The Jonah Day – stomping into the kitchen with as much purpose as she can muster, Bucky is sitting at the kitchen table, something pale and unkempt about his face, and nursing an empty mug of tea. 

She knows it’s tea because of the glittery little tag that’s hanging from the edge of the mug. In truth this should be her first red flag: there’s only one kind of tea he drinks, and a rare handful of occasions he drinks it on. She’s never had a great love for honeybush, but the stuff Ayo’s wife Aneka sends is nice-smelling and strong enough to be medicinal. Sarah’s not in any mood to be catching flags today, red or otherwise. She shuffles in and wonders where they’ve put the ibuprofen and nearly steps on the cat, who scratches her foot in her yowly attempt to get away from Sarah’s sandal.

“Shit –” Her elbow slams into the cabinet as she startles – “Argh! Out of the kitchen, Alpine – Cass! What’d I tell you about getting these dishes done after school? Do I look like a dishwashing service to you?”

That had been the deal. There is an abstract part of her that knows Cass is working on a science project and an even more abstract part of her that knows that, in the regular routine that’s emerged, Bucky would have reminded him. 

Clearly he has not. Sarah is too tired to process why that might be. Maybe he forgot. She doesn’t think he got much sleep last night, which isn’t exactly uncommon. She remembers waking up to an empty bed and a rumpled sleeping bag on the bedroom floor. She’d nearly tripped over that, too.

Could be that’s what got the whole day going.

“Can you get Cass?” Sarah asks, only half-looking at Bucky. She walks through the remainder of the kitchen and peers into the coffee pot to see if there are any dregs left from the morning. The rainstorm outside seems to have turned into a thunderstorm; Sarah can hear its low rumblings. Are there leftovers in the fridge? No. And no one has bothered to think of dinner, either. She swallows back the urge to curse on her next prolonged inhale, the delay in reply rubbing her already edgy nerves wrong for no reason. “Bucky.”

“Hm? Oh.” In a side glance, she can see him shift his elbows on the table, rub at his eyes and nod. “Yeah, um. Yeah, I’ll get him. Let me put this in the sink.”

Another rumble. If the power goes out she thinks she might scream.

Speaking of the sink: she tosses the thermoses the boys left on the kitchen counter into it with a dull clang and wonders if she has time to take a shower. It doesn’t occur to her that maybe she will feel better if she takes a moment to breathe and perhaps ask Bucky for a hug – Sarah’s habits of self-reliance started well before her first marriage, even – but anyway, she feels disgusting. She smells like sweat and fish and she wants to sleep for ten years and cry at once. She’s worried if he gets too close she’ll cringe, or snap, or something foolish. Still. He has to enter her space to rinse the mug out. She tries not to look at him lest the crying overtake her and attempts to source a granola bar to maybe take the edge off her headache. 

Overloud footsteps thunder abruptly down the stairs. Suddenly, Cass is barreling in, an overdue apology loud on his tongue. This happens a half second before his hip knocks into one of the kitchen chairs, which drags, scrapes loudly, and pinches an unassuming Alpine’s tail between its leg and the table’s. 

Alpine shrieks.

“CASS!” Sarah yells, forgetting herself. 

“I’m sorry!” yelps Cass immediately, wide-eyed and penitent. 

“It was an accident,” Bucky says quickly. He’s straightened beside her, and his voice has something strained under the placating instinct, “it’ll be fine –” 

One free hand comes up in front of him in a gesture she knows very well. “For the love of God!” Sarah yells. “No, it was not! I have told you a million times, Cassius Wilson –” Bucky’s hand is too close to her. She grabs it, to bat it away, shove it back towards him. Alpine is still yowling holy vengeance. Cass is apologizing more loudly now, and she does not notice Bucky’s shoulders tensing, and her hand connects with his a split second before the rumbling beginnings of thunder turn into a full blown clap outside.

With the piercing pop of breaking ceramic the mug in his hand explodes, spraying its pieces all over the floor. Sarah’s mouth lets out a startled little cry and she does not realize why that is until she looks down, heart in her throat, and realizes his other hand has shot out and grabbed her wrist.

A reflex, probably. Her tendons are pinching but Sarah knows this kind of thing can spook anyone on a good day. And she’d been yelling so loudly, right in his ear.

“Sorry!” says Cass again, reedy with the fright he gave himself, the suddenness, the mundane violence of a cup breaking and the spring storm. His voice is thinned out with the upshooting squeak of pre-teen concern and in a moment Sarah’s anger fizzles. She can hear the rain lashing at the windows. 

“It’s alright,” she says, parroting Bucky’s earlier words, “it’s just a mug.” 

Bucky is still holding her wrist. The angle is awkward – Sarah is too close to him and too far away from him at once and her forearm is bent low, towards the kitchen counter. The metal pads of his fingers dig into her bones, pushing them together, and when she comes to gently tug away, she can’t move it an inch. “Ow,” comes out of her mouth, muttered and mostly surprised, before she can stop it.

“Alpine!” she hears Cass say. “No, you have to get on the table or your feet’ll get hurt –”

Poor Alpine has not had a moment of peace since Sarah entered the kitchen. She’s never loved thunderstorms and beyond her own pinched tail and trodden foot the tiny cat is tense and staring at Bucky and Sarah with wide, alert, too-knowing eyes. Sarah cannot process this. She is looking at Bucky’s face. Every line of his body is iron hewn, pupils large and dilated, lips too red and parted where he is breathing heavily. He’s staring at the floor, and the broken ceramic, but there suddenly isn’t a doubt in Sarah’s mind that he isn’t seeing jack shit.

“B,” she tries. “You okay?”

Nothing. His grip on her arm is so tight that she’s started to feel it in her elbow. She can see blood trickling down his right hand thumb where she realizes the broken ceramic cut into his palm; he didn’t startle and drop it, then.

“Mom?” Cass has noticed them. “Uncle Bucky?”

“James,” Sarah says, as steadily as she can. “Let go, please.” 

She bites her tongue just before the rest of the sentence comes out; she would not, in a million years, in any lifetime, say You’re hurting me when Cass is still in the room. 

“What’s wrong with him?” 

“We all just had a fright,” Sarah says, trying to subtly shift her shoulder. “Cass, put your running shoes on. Then go to the supply closet upstairs and grab the hand vacuum and dustpan.”

“But –” 

“Tell AJ not to come down ‘til we’ve cleaned the broke mug. We don’t get it clean soon Alpine might hurt herself.”

This is motivation enough to manage him. She thinks for Cass this must still be one of those momentary incursions of chaos into routine that are sprinkled throughout her own childhood. She watches her son nod rapidly out of the corner of her eye, and then he scrambles away and back up the stairs.

“James,” Sarah says, once he is out of earshot. “I need you to hear me. We’re in the kitchen. You broke a mug by accident. There’s a rainstorm outside. Please let go, you’re hurting my arm.”

He is not entirely frozen because she can see the minute trembles in his chest and chin and bloodied right hand. It’s not a lot, but it’s started dripping onto the floor. 

“James. Bucky!” 

The pressure on her wrist is starting to edge past uncomfortable and into a territory Sarah doesn’t want to think about. She doesn’t think he’s squeezing any harder, only the shock has started to fade, and she is really feeling it now. It might even bruise. Not badly – Sarah knows her own body well enough to guess – but enough that the idea makes her sick to her stomach. She can see the dull brown of the last drops of tea from the mug, splattered onto the pale grey of his indoor t-shirt. Those will stain for sure, she thinks. Her head pounds. Her brain feels like scrambled eggs. A tiny shard of ceramic bites into her pinky toe, between her sandal straps, and she can hear AJ’s inquiring voice from upstairs, asking loudly what happened. Knowing her children he will be down in a moment and heedless of any possible danger, broken mug related or otherwise. 

“Baby,” she says, “forgive me.”

She reaches forward with her free hand and fits her thumb and forefinger into the groove beneath where his rotator cuff should be. Sarah presses as hard as she can. Like a flipped switch the grip on her hand releases and Sarah has to bite back another curse when the frozen deadweight of the vibranium prosthetic freefalls and crashes directly onto the ground, just barely missing her shin. 

She is not in any place to understand what the effect must be outside of a shock, but immediately Bucky makes a strangled noise of surprise and slumps back against her cluttered kitchen counter with the imbalanced movements of some leggy baby animal. 

Only, for perhaps the first time, Sarah is acutely aware of how large he is, how ungainly and imposing all that muscle can be. 

“Be careful, the mug –!” she hears herself yell anyway, entirely instinct. 

“The mug,” Bucky repeats, slurred, blinking. His right hand reaches up to scrabble at the thin air to his left. She can see the fumbling movement of his wrist, the way his body leans. His eyes meet hers, wide and startled and questioning. He’s seeing her. She didn’t think it would make such a difference, but she nearly cries. The sound crawls up her esophagus but does not quite make it out.

“Sarah?” he asks, voice small.

Jesus Lord, Sarah thinks. The whole thing happened so fast – nothing long or drawn out about it. Hell, she could pretend it didn’t happen at all. He stares at her, and then the shattered mug on the floor, and then his arm, deadened and inert. Finally his eyes land on her wrist, which she has cradled instinctively in her other hand, and is rubbing. Dread floods into his expression. 

“It’s alright,” Sarah says, “It’s fine, you got spooked, we’ll just –”

She tries to reach for him, working both with and against her own instincts.  

“No,” he chokes. 

She can see him beginning to tremble.

“James –”

“No!” The sheer panic in his voice does not help her own at all, “Stay – wait, don’t, please –” He pulls away from her and his foot nudges one of the larger mug pieces with a loud scraping clink. Between this and his sudden movement Sarah flinches. 

For a long moment, Bucky gapes at her.

Then, slowly, he sinks down to the floor. The tremble in his body becomes more visible. His remaining arm comes up to wrap around the crown of his head, half-covering his face. His knees are pulled up to his chest, like he is trying to make himself as small as possible in front of her. You’re gonna get ceramic in your jeans, Sarah wants to say. The wreckage of the mug spreads out around him.

“Mom?” calls Cass’s voice from the stairs, followed by footsteps. “We got the vacuum! Should I –”

“Stay outside the kitchen, Cass.” It’s immediate – hoarse-voiced but louder and firmer than Sarah thought him capable of right now. His face is still covered. “Too many small pieces on the floor, I’ll clean it up myself. You too, AJ.”

Their footsteps stall. “Okay!” she hears. Sarah sways in place. 

“Sarah,” he says, into his single arm. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh, God.”

It’s alright, Sarah wants to say. She managed it earlier, didn’t she? Her wrist is more or less fine now. Maybe a bit tender, but nothing that couldn’t have happened a million other ways.

The words don’t come out. Instead, to her horror, a small sound like a sob does. 

It’s alright, she urges herself. Just say it.

“I love you,” is what she says instead. She leaves the kitchen to fetch the dustpan. It’s only once she’s hit the laundry room and locked the door behind her that she lets herself begin to cry.

**

By bedtime, Sarah’s wrist is properly tender. The kitchen has long since been cleaned. In between her stint in the laundry and AJ’s innocent declaration that she needed a shower, Bucky went ahead and ordered them pizza for dinner, so that was one more thing she didn’t have to think about too. No one put the boys to bed properly but when she checked in they had managed alright themselves. When she enters the bedroom the storm outside has dulled to a simple drizzle and her chest floods with relief. He’s there. And not in the sleeping bag, either. He’s on their bed, curled up to face the wall, and his face is pale. 

Sarah ignores her bathroom routine and crawls onto the bed beside him. He hasn’t re-attached his arm. She saw it in the den, earlier, tucked away behind the cushions on the daybed he used to use.

She takes a deep breath. She’s spent most of the evening trying to detangle between her residual emotions from the Jonah Day and the very real thing that happened downstairs. She sat in the tub for twenty minutes thinking about what words she wanted to use. 

Bucky beats her to it.

“Has it,” he starts, sounding miserable. “Your -- your arm.”

Sarah doesn’t want to lie. “It’s ...”

“Jesus,” he whispers, this awful undertone of disgust weighing it down into the bed.

“I was going to say it probably won’t even bruise.”

Bucky doesn’t reply. She wonders if he hasn’t reached out to check the wrist himself because he’s scared of himself, or if he’s scared she will be.

“I’m sorry for not being more careful earlier,” Sarah says after a long moment, looking at her toes. They’re in desperate need of a pedicure. “For – yelling. Being rough. I should have been more aware of my surroundings.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she hears, delivered into the bedspread. 

They have two spreads on this bed. One Sarah has had for always – it’s quilted, with small squares of yellow and blue, and small stitched flowers that Sarah’s grandmother said were meant to bring a sense of safety into a bedroom. The other is red – burgundy pattern bursts, even a bit of purple. The material is thicker-woven and heavier and very new, and bought after much careful consideration (and her own encouragement that he get something he liked) from one of Bucky’s favourite vendors a few months ago. She knows it is called a kitenge and loves that it is on her bed.

“B,” Sarah says finally. “If I’m an adult I’m responsible for how I behave when I know certain things about others. You have to –” she fists her hands into the sheets, searches for the right thing beneath the tension in her throat, “respect that. Respect me by acknowledging that.”

There’s a long moment of quiet. 

“Thank you for apologizing,” Bucky says softly. Then, after another long pause, “I’m sorry for not telling you how – how bad I was feeling. And for scaring you after. And for ... fuck. Sarah. I’m so sorry.”

Sarah swallows around her dry tongue.

“I know. You still feeling rough?”

“A little. My head got really loud and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Because of last week’s thing.”

Sarah doesn’t like calling them missions. Sam says she doesn’t want to give ‘em the dignity of a proper name lest they end up having power over her life.

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” 

“Did you call –”

She can’t see his face but she can perfectly imagine the way his eyes scrunch shut on a frown. “Didn’t realize it was bad until it was … bad. Thought I could work through it yesterday. With – routines.”

“The tea,” Sarah realizes. Simultaneously she feels heartbreak and a keen sense of frustration. She should have noticed, she thinks. Then again, the plain reality is that she will have her own bad days, and she is only human. Also, she very much knows the desire to prove you haven’t mistaken your newfound ability to control. Still, still, still – 

“Just, since then,” she starts.

“I called Dr. Naimi while you were in the shower,” he says quietly. 

It’s been about a month with her, so Sarah would have been ready to understand if he didn’t at all. Just barely, but ready. Sarah likes Dr. Naimi and Dr. Naimi likes Sarah. Trauma specialist is an added perk of her proximity to them, and Sarah’s cheerful memories of LSU.

Sarah lets out a long exhale through her mouth. She can see his right hand where it’s curled up by his stomach. He’s put bandaids over the cuts from the ceramic. She knows he doesn’t need them – those cuts would’ve self-sealed within fifteen minutes – so she is left wondering if the decision was made for the boys’ sake, or maybe hers, or even his own. Easy not to think about something if the evidence is covered up and away. Sarah rubs at her eyes, which are dry and gritty from her earlier cry.

In a sense she’s stalling the instinct to reach out to him because the back of her brain is still working through the newer, more temporary instinct that’s appeared. But she does need to change. Bucky is already in his sleep clothes, faded grey sweatpants that he’s wearing holes into and that garishly orange t-shirt memorializing Cass’s first grade Lion King play. Sarah leaves the bed. She brushes her teeth, wraps up her hair, wipes her face. She comes back into the bedroom and shimmies out of her jeans, then bypasses her usual tank top for the navy blue t-shirt folded neatly at the top of his drawer. The shoulders hit halfway down her biceps. She crawls back onto the bed, in front of him this time.

Bucky’s still wide awake.

“You gonna stay awake all night?” she asks.

“No.”

“Promise?”

She watches him touch his tongue to his bottom lip, which is looking raw, like he’s been doing that all night. He trembles on the inhale. “I’m better,” he repeats. “I’ll do some – um, those exercises before bed. Forgot to do ‘em last night, I was real tired I guess.”

This bedroom’s good for those – it’s got so much stuff in it, and sentimental stuff too, he can go through picking out things he can see and what they’re made of and how they feel to touch and lull himself to sleep like that. Sometimes he does it teasingly and lists what she is wearing while he takes it off. 

His eyes have cast down, a very deliberate avoidance of hers. Swallowing against her own mind she scootches forward and lies down in front of him. Then she pulls at his shoulder – firm, but with gentle hands. 

“Sarah,” muffled, into the pillow.

“Need you to hold me.”

“You don’t have to –”

“For me. For me, James.”

He relents, balancing on the ball of his empty shoulder, and smoothes his free hand over her arm and around her back to pull her towards him. His fingers, which are so familiar to her by now, splay open between her shoulder blades. They don't tremble, but they’re very careful. Sarah has to work hard not to notice. Still, he ends up half covering her. She lets her tender wrist lay gingerly against her collarbone in the hollow between their chests and breathes in and out in long steadying breaths. Where their bodies touch (at her hip, her cheek, where his shoulder digs into her breast) the pressure is just minutely too much but enough for Sarah’s purposes. She winds one arm around him, tangles their legs together, closes her eyes, and wills herself through her pounding heart to re-memorize the feeling: the deep-seated thing within herself that’s come to associate his body touching hers with safety and security. 

Sarah doesn’t newly believe herself a fool. Reality coexists with her convictions and they’ll just have to work their way through it. The blankets beneath them are contrasting in their fabrics and soft against the bare skin of Sarah’s neck. 

“I love you,” Bucky whispers. It’s said in the same way she said it earlier. Sarah nods, and holds him tighter.

#touches prompt meme #marvel #sarahbucky #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #fatws #sarah and bucky #tfatws #fleur de louve #sarah x bucky #my writing #lord this got long #and the new tumblr ask formating ... bad #ALMOST 1 FULL YEAR BABY

[wickedpact]

Crim pls do a J/N fic rec post at some point in the future I trust you more than I trust myself looking rouge through AO3

im kinda eh abt the concept of fic recs myself just bc the whole 'Different Strokes For Different Folks' thing (idk how many times someone i liked in a fandom made a fic rec list and i ended up not liking anything they posted). plus i have weirdly specific tastes and i.. .. honestly havent read a ton of joenicky fic! (i have a FAT to-read list) but ive been asked this a couple times now so i will slap together a couple joenicky fics i like (not comprehensive, i only spent like 15 minutes making this. also not in any particular order.)

Kiss Each Other Clean by moodlighting

i like this whole fic, but the last 6 or so paragraphs in particular SEND ME TO SPACE, i love cuddling. also [joe voice] nickel neekee

what you seek is seeking you by bankrobbery

i actually recced this one once before. idk its cute i just Like It. (also nicky pretending not to know english bc a customer is pissing him off is Very Funny and i love it)

with every inch of my heart by smilebackwards

i like this one a lot, i think nickys pov should Always be this tender. i dont like miscommunication trope much, (esp with joenicky) but i do like this fic-- the miscommunication in question is far-fetched but its joenicky so of course it is. just enjoy the Angst™

i love michelangelo seeing nicky all dirty and bloody after a fight and being like 'DAMN this bitch is fine' (same). (AND the fact that nicky only agrees to travel with him in the name of wasting the pope's money lmao). the fact that joe and nicky broke up But They Still Snuggle. nile knowing like 2 things about joe and nicky's breakup & pretty much immediately taking nicky's side. joe looking at the creation of adam and bein like 'EH'.

nicky carrying around his little joe drawing? nicky carrying around a spare toothbrush for booker? nicky telling little children stories about a princess locked in a coffin under the sea? ('perhaps someday, if an iron coffin is caught in a net or washed up onto the shore, they’ll remember the princess, a victim and not a monster' EXCUSE ME)

(also 'I have drawn you a thousand times since we parted. I sculpted your likeness, just so that I could pretend to cup your cheek. You are so much warmer than marble, hayati.' R O M A N C E)

Pas Un Ange by inlovewithnight

there are a lot of fics i love in a way thats like 'this fic is fun but it doesnt feel like something that would happen in the Actual Canon' (which is fine!) but this one Does feel like it could happen in The Actual Canon which is cool

this fic also has probably my favorite depiction of nicky's relationship with god/religion in any fic ive read ('[nicky's] peace had come only after walking away from faith as a competition of intensity in favor of faith as a steady compass that he followed like the beat of his heart in his chest.'). i love the whole Drama played out by the background characters and how they all have their own ideas and motivations & nicky is just kind of resigned to being caught in the middle of it.

(also love how near the beginning joe's like 'the Right thing to do in the situation would be stay at this river and help these people.... ... ....... ... .... ... anyways see ya guys later gotta go find nicky'.)

also joe chatting up a pig and the five minutes later chatting up some goats was so cute. & nicky trying to tell the baby's mother how to save it!!!! </3 AND THEY ARGUE ABOUT CHARITY on the way home (not before joe injects a comment abt nickys ass into regular conversation bc Romance™) its a bit of a sad fic tho, that poor baby 🥺

Intercession by PrincessDesire

can i interest you in some Swamp Man Nicky in this trying time?

someone recced this fic to me and i dont remember who. but note that the major character death tag is not, in fact, for a major character but for a background one. neither joe or nicky perma!die in this. also normally i dont like fics where joe or nicky are bi bc Thats Not Canon Babey but i do like this one, i love joe's relationship with Grace and how nicky's perception of that relationship gets flipped on its head halfway thru the fic. i also love joe's Weariness Of Immortality, like when joe talks about how 'youthful' nicky makes him feel. his pov just kind of Feels like an old man and i like it

theres a smut scene in this fic which im personally not big on smut scenes but theres this bit where joe tries to figure out condoms and its very cute. also 'You have many kinds of magic, Nicky. All your spells have worked.' ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

also i just like how WHIPPED joe is from like the first 3 seconds he sees nicky. theres one bit where nicky's like 'ill come visit you!' and joe's like 'when🥺' and nicky's like 'as soon as you like!' and joes like 'now?????🥺🥺🥺 literally come home with me???' incredible.

also the Magic System was cool. i also love how nicky just Accidentally made himself immortal. what a man. also i like this line 'it would never occur to [nicky] to attend any service that wasn’t going to have a direct outcome. Grace takes comfort from it, so maybe that’s the only outcome needed.' idk its so sweet

edit: also i cant believe i forgot the iconic line 'Yusuf is a man of two minds, one large and underutilized, the other small and underutilized.' absolutely iconic & relatable

#Anonymous

[magireco]

Would love to hear more thoughts on how these girls have understandable teenage motivations (A+ tag analysis by the way)

1. Thank you!!!!!!

2. ALRIGHT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS (shuffles my papers). i’ve gone off about homura’s motivations in depth before but i think it was only in dms/groupchats? anyways i’ll go in order with All the girls bc i think about this all the time as a teenager who grew up mentally ill and had their perceptions skewed because of it, and also i don’t think it’s talked about nearly enough for the others, at least on my blog... so, buckle up!!! this is REALLY LONG!!!! 

3. i tried writing like, an individual thing for every member of the quintet all together in this one ask, but i ended up talking a little too much about homura and now i’m going to split up all the different analysis stuff for each character into the reblogs and work on it every so often! you’re free to kinda skim of course because i really did write a whole novel but here we go!! read under the cut. :3 this is literally essay length btw. i did NOT expect it to get this long but if you want to read it all i’d recommend it but i don’t expect most people to

First: Homura Akemi

okay so i’m going to kind of summarize everything but from the perspective of empathizing with her so if you don’t want to reread a whole recap you can skip to the ending few paragraphs

Summary

first of all, in episode 10, homura’s past is explained for the viewer. she was a shy, unsure girl who had been bedridden for a long time. she was clearly unsocialized, not to mention she went to a catholic school and those can be brutal, esp in japan... that’s all we know about her in that episode, but it’s revealed in one of the drama cds that she was bullied as a child(& further at mitakihara middle), her parents never were mentioned ever (i assume them to either be dead or neglectful, considering she lives alone and unchecked), and in magia record, homura says to natsuki that she’s never had friends before, she hasn’t been on vacation before until the beachside bonds event, hasn’t ever celebrated valentine’s day, has never celebrated new years, etc... 

clearly, she’s missed out on a lot not only because of her sickness and hospitalization, but because of her isolation as a child at school. judging by her demeanor and the way she reacts when madoka comes up to her without being asked to, something like that had never happened to her before. it’s clear to me that madoka was many of homura’s “first’s”, her first friend, the first person who reached out to her, the first person to compliment her name honestly(validating her, disproving her dislike of her name), the first person to regard her so kindly rather than judging her based off of her appearance and demeanor (like other students had apparently done, this is also shown when the other students at mitakihara middle make fun of her for being tired after only being able to run one lap). AND, madoka (and mami, but homura knew madoka better at that time) saved her life, even though homura was so willing to die, just in that moment... i’d assume it made homura feel like someone believed in her even when she was at her worst. it’s really clear by the glimmer in her eyes that these are nice people that made her feel happy and welcome... and then walpurgisnacht came. she didn’t know much about magical girls and just believed in madoka and mami to be able to defeat the witch because she saw them as strong and saw the witch as defeatable, despite its size. and then mami died, right in front of her and madoka... 

this kinda seems headcanon-y when i phrase it this way but it’s practically proven in her actions but i really think homura is scared to be abandoned, especially by someone who was as overtly kind and nonjudgemental to her as madoka... it’s in the way she cries her name and says “don’t go” before madoka runs away to fight walpurgisnacht. OH ALSO, i need to address this one thing really quick because people like to assume that homura didn’t care about mami from the beginning and only liked madoka. it’s not that she wasn’t sad when mami died, she was clearly terrified and didn’t want the same to happen to madoka, also mami LITERALLY WASN’T IN HER CLASS OR HER GRADE so i assume she spent most of her time with madoka considering they were in the same grade and class and probably shared most of their periods with each other... but also, once again, mami is older than both of them and homura probably saw her as more of a mentor/teacher that she needed to impress rather than madoka who was more on her level, i guess?

anyways, moving on... homura had to see madoka die (& experience the crushing guilt she felt for “letting madoka go” even though there was nothing she could’ve done) and literally says “i’d rather you had lived than saved someone like me” ... her self worth is below zero. she makes her wish to be strong enough to protect madoka(because she sees madoka, her first friend, who saved her life which she felt had no worth, as so strong and noble) which causes her to go back in time, etc. etc., you know the deal. okay before i move on to talk a little more abt the timelines and the personality change i’m going to address why it’s reasonable that she’d be attached to madoka.

i mentioned before that homura said herself that she had never had a friend before. just like, put yourself into her shoes for a second. this girl has no idea how to make friends; it was never taught to her. it’s literally rational that she’d get attached to her first ever friendship. it’s not “normal” the way she views madoka, but how could it be? this is her first time having a friend, she’s afraid of being abandoned by her, but she’s had to see her die over and over again anyway. she doesn’t want to lose madoka. even if she doesn’t go about it in the right way, there’s no way she would’ve actually known how to Do relationships. no one taught her. i think that needs to be empathized with more...

i kinda feel like i need to summarize all this just bc if i word it right it kinda reminds you & puts into perspective just how terrible and scary all of this was.

anyway Again, i would skip straight to the end of timeline 3 (where a New Flavor of trauma is given to homura) but i need to first address timeline 2 for a second. it was homura’s first time repeating the timeline, she trained with madoka and mami again, she was still hopeful despite what happened, etc. kinda just bonding further with madoka Again... and then it’s at the end of this timeline that she watches madoka turn into a witch, just in front of her very eyes... and realizes the true fate of magical girls. when she resets the timeline again, it’s up to her to start anew and break the truth to the group when she sees them again. when she tries telling the truth, sayaka immediately shoves this aside, claiming homura was just trying to split everyone up. it’s clear that that hurts homura. (also the little shinies in her eyes were wavering which is anime-code for sad) her feelings were immediately disregarded by sayaka and she couldn’t defend herself, but madoka did for her, and mami tried to diffuse the situation. 

after they all find out homura was right when sayaka turns into a witch, mami kills kyoko and ties up homura in her ribbons and aims a gun at her, and this, rightfully, ignited a fear within homura... madoka is forced to kill mami in order to save homura, leaving only the two of them to fight together. then, when walpurgisnacht comes that time, The Promise is made... madoka tells homura to go back in time and save her from becoming a witch (because she doesn’t want to curse the world that way, she still sees beauty in it) and homura agrees, saying she’ll never stop until she saves madoka, and then... homura has to mercy kill madoka before she becomes a witch. she cries loudly and shoots madoka’s soul gem... it’s literally so heartwrenching and (usually) brings the viewer to tears, or puts something into perspective for them...

then we assume the personality change happens in the timeline right after. this personality change causes a lot of discourse because sometimes it’s seen as kind of irrational, but personally, i think even moemura had at least SOME resent for the world around her considering what she’d been through. it’s madoka’s repeated deaths that finally push her over that edge. i could get further into the coolmura arc but that’d take a WHILE, so i’ll just kind of explain something briefly though -- why homura ended up becoming even MORE focused on madoka. and i’m also going to debunk the claim that homura doesn’t care about her other friends as fast as i can before moving on.

also, ONE LAST side tangent, for those that think homura really did do a 360 degree personality turn are wrong. it’s shown explicitly in homulilly’s labyrinth that there’s this... “core” homura, a shadowy purple silhouette with braids. every time the series depicts homura’s internal self, it’s always glasses+braids, symbolizing her “child” self, who she truly is. she never stopped being that person. she doesn’t want to kill. ...but i can get into that in a rebellion analysis later! this is also shown in wraith arc bc the person inside her soul gem has glasses+braids. anyway let’s get to the next part i’m going to rant about

Homura’s Love for Madoka, but Otherwise Apathy

homura has seen many different, yet all similar, versions of her friends. the first claim i’m going to talk about which i saw brought up quite a few times before is in regards to homura and mami. first of all, homura absolutely still cares for mami, and not just in the “i only care about your life if it affects madoka’s” way. one part that always gets me is when mami ties her up in the series timeline after homura frantically warns her that this witch isn’t normal, to which mami IMMEDIATELY brushes this off, without even giving homura a chance. then, when mami’s ribbons fade away, homura looks horrified and just goes “oh no...” and it’s kind of obvious to me that it was in response to mami’s death rather than madoka’s reaction. this is arguably up for debate i guess because i’ve seen different takes on that reaction and it’s ambiguous, i guess? but i’m about to get into something extremely similar and that’s the sayaka situation, where madoka throws sayaka’s soul gem onto a moving car. homura gasps and immediately pauses time and disappears, running in literal open traffic and climbing on top of a moving car to retrieve sayaka’s soul gem. one could argue that this is ALSO only just because homura wants to save madoka (and kyoko) the fear, but don’t you think her expression would be different? if homura truly didn’t care for sayaka’s wellbeing, wouldn’t she be making an expression more similar to like, “oh, this shit again...” instead of the frantic one she was making in the scene? this kind of thing Also happens when kyoko asks homura to leave while kyoko’s about to sacrifice herself in oktavia’s labyrinth, and homura looks up sadly at kyoko and then back down at madoka, and once she knew kyoko was dead, she just quietly said “kyoko...” to herself. she usually refers to them as [last name, first name], but she dropped that during that moment... it otherwise sounds like a bare minimum thing to do, but keep in mind the timeline we’re shown in the series is implied to be like, the 110th timeline, i think? like, this is the last timeline, she’s worn down, but she still does have empathy -- or at least sympathy -- for the others. she still loves them. 

homura promised to be madoka’s protector, she dedicated her life to her, and also she doesn’t have a choice not to dedicate her life to her anymore, even though that’s not fair to her... homura is in a really hopeless situation and madoka is her hope, and madoka is the one that judges her the least out of the quintet (like saying “i’m sure homura is good” to herself) upon first impression. also okay i mentioned this already in my last post (which you saw) but i’m going to bring it up one more time, homura is not mentally 26!!!!!! she is still 14 mentally!! in order to be 26, you have to have experienced 26 years of new life experience. maybe you acquire that through school, maybe you aquire that through friends, whatever it takes. but homura just repeated the same month over and over, and it’s not like her body (canonically) ages ever. she just kind of gets transported back into her body in the hospital again considering she’s back wearing her braids and pajamas... so, yeah. no mental development there. i also mentioned this here but i’m gonna say it again, that just makes it even harder for her to actually age correctly... it stunts her to 14. imagine being 14 for 10-11 years...

In Defense Of My Own Claims

btw before you think i’m just going full-on radical homura apologist, i’m not explaining all of this to be like “homura made ALL THE RIGHT DECISIONS because her trauma gave her an excuse!!” because like, Obviously, she did a lot of bad things, she killed people, did a lot of callous things, a lot of thoughtless things, a lot of things that make her seem emotionless, etc. but i just have trouble blaming her considering how things ended up, and it’s not like she enjoys killing people. she’s not sadistic... she ends up becoming short with all the others not only because of her (extremely) weakened trust in them, but also because the amount of times she repeated the timeline. i’d imagine it makes her feel like the others can’t truly die because she can just go back and see them again. (this is also why wraith arc/post-tv series must’ve been hard for her because she can no longer turn back time, things are permanent now, deaths are forever) she’s become so worn down that she’ll do anything to escape the loops... also considering she has no choice but to continue? although it shouldn’t be, it’s technically her job as a magical girl to defeat all witches and walpurgisnacht counts. it kills magical girls and tears up the whole city and she’s usually the only magical girl left... her choices, when defeated, are either to give up and die or to go back and try again, and she made a promise to her first ever friend to do just the latter... i just don’t understand how this isn’t easier for people to comprehend, that all of this trauma and stress and responsibility on top of an already traumatized 14 year old does not mix well. ever. she had to figure out all of this by herself.

TL;DR:

homura was a previously traumatized, unsocialized 14 year old with (very)low self esteem & self worth whose first friend (and first love, really, let’s be honest) died in front of her in horrific ways and she watched as she (and the other friends she came to make) drifted slowly apart from her in her endless and futile attempt in saving her from what proved to be an inescapable fate. also she’s 14 and also she’s (canonically) mentally ill and a lesbian. not a monster, not evil, not “psycho”. and that’s that!

#asks #luna-mistrunner #homura akemi #analysis #THIS MAY HABE TAKEN ME LIKE 2 DAYS ON AND OFF

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco #draco malfoy #draco fic #draco fanfiction #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

[fweasleyswhore]

F.W. Who We Are

Chapter Two: Your Least Favorite Color

Chapter One

a/n chapter two my lovlies!! i rlly wanted to pump this out p fast bc ive been having so much fun with it and i hope you are too!

summary: fred and george tell you their plan for their prank. fluff with a pinch of angst.

word count: 3k

warnings: some touching??? uncomfy situation??

tags: @you-make-children-cry @levylovegood @bohemianspacebabe

comment a request to be added to my taglist !

“Snape’s least favorite color?” I laughed out. “I think you mean, like, any color. I mean has he ever worn anything that isn’t black?”

I was now seated in a small semblance of a circle on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George in front of me. It was most definitely past curfew but because tomorrow was Saturday I really didn’t care, the time was the last thing on my mind. The most present thought I had was how the hell Fred and George were going to change the color of all the cauldrons in Snape's room and get away with it. 

“Well, now that you bring it up, I do believe I saw him in robes that looked rather navy instead of black.” George pondered, looking up to the ceiling and tapping his chin as if he was deep in thought. 

“Oh bug off!” I laughed and smacked him on the arm. He looked at his arm with wide eyes, his smile gone. Before I could ask if I was too forceful he was pretending to cry, a little too loud than he should’ve considering it was well past 12 and I am technically trespassing. None of us cared though or even thought to care as we watched George grasp onto his brother’s arms like it was the last thing he would ever do. 

“I-I don’t want to die Freddie.” He whispered. His grip tightened onto his brother as he spoke again. “Freddie, I…” He then let out a loud, fake sob. “There’s so much I haven’t done.” He dropped his head and shook it. I rolled my eyes, how long was he going to keep this up? 

Fred brought his hands up to cradle his brother’s head. “It’s ok George, you can let go, it’s ok.” He looked into his brother’s eyes tearfully, “I’ll help you…”

Before George could react Fred lifted one of his hands and swiftly flicked him on the forehead. George let out a loud groan and spasmed a bit in Fred’s arms, I watched with narrowed eyes as he seized up and shook. 

“You look more like a fish out of water than a dying man,” I said smugly. George rose up and fixed his hair. He looked over to me with a glare and his tongue out. I laughed fully, the situation and everything, as well as some sleep deprivation, catching up on me. I threw my head back, clutched my stomach, and rolled around for what felt like hours. Once I had started I couldn’t stop. 

“I didn’t think it was that funny,” George whispered to Fred. “Maybe we have finally broken her?”

“Maybe…” Was all Fred was able to say back, too caught up with the beautiful girl in front of her to even fully process George's words. 

Finally calming down due to the sharp pain building up in my stomach from laughing so hard, I painfully pushed myself to sit up straight. Leaning on the couch behind me I tried to catch my breath while gripping my stomach. I could feel my face was flushed, my hair was a mess but I couldn’t care. Although the pain that coursed through my body, I was still smiling, looking at the two boys in front of me. Focusing on George I saw that he looked at me with a look of disbelief and amusement, rolling my eyes at him I focussed on Fred ready to be met with the same expression. 

What I was met with nearly made me roll over again. 

The way he looked at me made the rest of the world evaporate. I lost my breath. He smiled at me, but it wasn’t amused or disbelieving like George, he smiled at me with pure content, like watching me writhing around on the floor was the best use of his time. His eyes flickered with something, his usual gleam of mischief no longer evident but what was currently being held I couldn’t decipher. My whole face flushed even more if that was possible, I was praying in my head he didn’t notice it. I diverted my eyes from his gaze, trying to hide my red face as I adjusted into the position I held before I broke out in laughter. 

“Maybe red?” I tried to steer the conversation back to its previous topic, my voice quivered, making me cringe and I hope that the boys didn’t notice or just wrote it off. 

“If we make them red he will know a Gryffindor did it, that’s the equivalent of a murderer leaving a ransom note with his name on it.” George retorted. I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything. Bringing my gaze up to meet theirs I looked between them, they were both staring at the floor, obviously lost in thought. I brought my gaze to the fire behind them. I pulled my lip in between my teeth trying to focus on a specific color that would make the blood drain from Snape’s face. 

Snape was the head of the Slytherin house, and though that relation, I absolutely despised him. He was terribly rude to Gryffindors for no bloody reason, being that my friends mostly consisted of Gryffindors, he was terribly rude to me as well. He never took points away from me specifically, knowing it would reflect badly on him, but he took the absolute piss out of any Gryffindor around, often even subjected me to long detentions for minor offenses. I have to watch my step around him, even my breathing could set him off, send a nasty glare, or even grade my way. Being a Slytherin though, there was not much I could do about it except accept it, and that made my blood boil under the surface. 

“Perhaps,” I started, my gaze was still trained on the dancing fire behind the boy. “Hot pink would suffice?” 

Lifting my gaze from the fire I glanced between the two. 

“Wicked.” They said in unison. They had these stupid grins on their faces that made me giggle. 

The rest of the night was spent actually completing the plan, or trying to and getting distracted. The day before we leave for Christmas break we would sneak into his room, Fred and George would hide in the back of the room while I waited for Snape to arrive. I would ask him to help me find a book in the library about potion making because “I had really been struggling this past year in his class”. Total lie, I knew what I was doing Snape just hated to give me the grade I deserved. 

Considering Mrs. Pince was on maternity leave he would have no option but to say yes. The boys would hex the cauldrons then run back to the Gryffindor common room where Harry and Ron were ready to provide an alibi. It flowed well, the potions section of the library was in the back and far up, Ron and Harry were more than happy to take the piss out of Snape, and Snape knew that because I was in his house I would never do anything directly against him for fear of being expelled. 

Although I knew there would be no evidence for Snape to use against me I was still quite nervous but the thought of the shit eating grins it would provide the twins gave me enough courage to agree. They always made me happy, it was only fair I do the same for them. 

Once it was mildly solidified in our brains we let the conversation drift, topics from quidditch to the worst animal to transfigure as filled up what should’ve been a quite common room at that hour, and never once did I feel bored.  

-

The feeling of someone shaking my shoulders brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes to a rather bright and blurry mess of red around me, quickly shutting them again I groaned, swatting at my attacker. My lazy attempts fell short never actually hitting anyone. 

“That was lame.” Hermione laughed. 

I opened one eye to glare at her. “Considering I was blind I think they were ferocious.” I shot back. 

She laughed again. “Well I don’t know how late you stayed up, but it’s quarter to 9. Breakfast ends at 10.”

“I have so much time, why must you hurt me ‘Mione?” I huffed running a hand down my face. 

“Because Saturday is blueberry pancake day!” She said half singing. “Also I figured you would want to shower and get ready before we go to Hogsmede.” I groaned again but I knew she was right. I threw my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes before opening them, this time the brightness nor the redness of the room affected me. 

“What would I do without you?” I asked sitting up. Now in a seated position I could see my surroundings. I was laying longways on the couch, a robe sprawled over me like a makeshift blanket. Hermione stood behind me, her hands rested on the armrest that my head was just against.

“Probably dead, due to these two.” I couldn’t see her but I knew she was talking about the twins. I turned my head around and smiled at her. 

Squinting around the common room I could see George curled up in a loveseat by the fireplace, he sat sideways, his head against the back of the chair while his arms hugged one of his legs tightly to his chest, his other leg was thrown over the armrest. I giggled at the sight of him in such an unnatural position, it could not be comfortable with his long limbs. I searched the room for Fred. He wasn't in the other seats by the fireplace or the other couch pushed against the wall. 

My heart plunged into my stomach at the thought that he went up to his dorm, I wasn’t completely sure why it hurt me so much. It made sense for him to have left, but part of me just felt pained at the fact that George stayed and not him. Of course I liked George but not in the way I liked Fred. George was like a brother to me, he was a best friend. Fred was something more than that, not that he knew, I would never admit it to him much less our friends, but that didn’t stop the longing I felt for him, hoping that he felt the same way too. 

Finally I found him and all the doubts I had before were void upon seeing him. He laid on his stomach on the floor next to the couch. One arm under the pillow supporting his head that was facing me and the other thrown across the floor. He didn’t have a blanket on him and his robe wasn’t in sight. His hair was slightly brushed in his face and I had to refrain from leaning down and brushing it out of his eyes. I let out a small laugh realizing he was using the pillow that I threw at George the night before. 

Turning around again to Hermione I spoke again. “You’re completely right.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before exiting the common room muttering something about the work she needed to do that day. 

I stretched and readjusted, pulling my legs to my chest while figuring the best way to get up without disturbing Fred. I balled up the robe that was laid across me, still trying to figure out how to navigate my way out of the common room. 

There was a small space near his arm on the floor, taking it as my best shot to then jump around him. I carefully placed my foot down, making sure not to step on him. Shifting my weight onto that foot I began to move my other leg to go around his back. 

Slowly crouching to get some momentum I jumped, but before my foot could even leave the ground a strong arm grabbed my ankle. Taken by surprise I let out a small shriek before falling onto the couch and then sliding onto the floor. 

I was met with Fred, smirking at me with half lidded eyes. 

“Trying to sneak off with my robe are you?” He said smugly. His voice was deeper and raspier than it usually was and had an immediate effect on my body, my legs weakened and my face burned. I was thanking Merlin I was already sitting and flushed from the fall.

“What are you on about Weasley.” I whisper-yell at him. 

He released my ankle, something I hadn’t even noticed he was still holding until I felt uncharacteristically cold where his touch had been only moments ago. He used his now free hand to point at the balled up robes in my arms. 

“You did not just make me fall on my arse only to accuse me of stealing my robes!” I whisper yelled again, although a tad louder than last time. 

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Your robes? I wasn’t aware we had joint custody over my clothing Y/L/N, but since you want them so bad I suppose you can keep them, red looks good on you by the way.” He shot me a wink at the end of his remark. His confidence and cockiness just upset me further. Although he was unnervingly annoying I couldn’t help the grin that split onto my face at his own stupidity. 

I rolled my eyes and unbunched the robes to show him the green that adorned them, but once they were unrolled I saw the red fabric. My eyes shot wide open, I could feel my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. 

“But…” I couldn’t even form a whole sentence, this didn’t make sense. “You hexxed my robes!” I shot at him. It was the only logical conclusion I had come up to that he had planned this. 

The laugh he was holding back erupted from his mouth. His morning voice made it much deeper than his actual laugh. The rings of his laughter normally made my body hot but this was a whole new level. 

He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand up to my collar and tugged. Looking down I saw that I was still wearing my robes. Never took them off. 

I groaned and threw my face into my hands which only made him laugh harder. He peeled my hands away from my face and held them in his much larger ones. “I would never hex your clothes,” I could feel my face heat up at his words, the genuine tone and the lower octave of his voice sent shockwaves through my whole system. “At least not red, I’d make them purple!” He stuck his tongue out at me and I playfully swatted his shoulder. He knew that was my least favorite color. 

I stood up and threw his robes at his face. “See you in the Great Hall.” And with that I grabbed my shoes and walked out as quickly as possible. I could hear him still laughing as I got to the portrait hole but kept going trying to calm down and get the flush off my face, both from our proximity and embarrassment. 

-

I had thrown on my favorite muggle outfit. Going to Hogsmede was a tradition but the excitement was still there which qualified for a little dressing up. It wasn’t anything special, just plain light wash jeans, a white turtleneck and an oversized orange button up I managed to steal from the twins. All pulled together with a little accessorizing I thought I looked rather good. 

Walking out of my dorm and into the Slytherin common room there was an evident pep in my step. I was happy but a fool wouldn’t be. Stepping towards the exit of the common room someone just had to ruin my fun. 

“Not going out with the Weasels again are you Y/L/N?” Draco drawls. Turning I see him snickering with Crabbe and Goyle before standing and waltzing up to me, arrogant as ever. 

“What is it to you Malfoy?” I spit at him. I was not going to let him ruin today. 

“Well you got so pretty today, Weasleys do not know how to appreciate such expensive things, they can’t afford them, how would they know how to? You deserve someone who knows how and can express their appreciation in equally expensive ways.” He laughed out. He lifted his hand to caress my cheek. His touch made me cringe, his hands were cold and his demeanor was uninviting. Everything about him made me recoil. 

I grabbed his wrist and threw his hand down. “I hope you don’t mean someone like yourself Malfoy. I’m not sure how you even know how to use a hand like that, it looks as though it hasn’t done a day of work in its life. Is that something you are really proud of?” I threw my words at him like daggers. Steam rolling off of me. I could see him change under my glare, his confidence shrank and his anger grew, his relaxed expression was soon replaced by his snarl he adorned everywhere Harry was near, his back stiffened and his fists balled up. 

“Never, touch me again Malfoy.” I turned on my heel and stormed out. Before reaching the exit I thought of something though. 

“Future advice,” I turned again so I was facing him. He hadn’t moved and still looked at me venomously as before. He lifted an eyebrow at my comment, urging me to go on. “Money can’t buy consent.” 

His face darkened and I had to turn quickly to stop myself from all out laughing at him. I’m sure that if I stayed I could have watched him have his temper tantrum but frankly I wasn’t interested. My interest laid with the redhead waiting for me at the doors of the Great Hall. The same one who smiled at me as I walked up to him and poured my juice for me when we sat down. Fred Weasley had me totally, inconceivably, and utterly smitten, and I was completely ok with it. The harder I fell the sweeter it would feel when he caught me. 

Or I hoped. 

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