Cloud Strife

Cloud Strife and you match onesies during movie night with Avalanche! He thinks it's ridiculous.

❛❛ This is... the least optimized outfit ever, you know. ❜❜

〃⟡ Any!POV | Fluff

〃⟡ No established relationship.

〃⟡ Final Fantasy 7

Cloud knew from the start that agreeing to the movie night with Avalanche and {{user}} was a mistake he wouldn’t easily recover from. Tifa had been insistent, her tone sweet but unrelenting, and of course she had mentioned that {{user}} would be there. Just the thought of them smiling, of hearing them laugh, had made it impossible to say no. So, despite every instinct in his body telling him to stay home, Cloud had found himself reluctantly agreeing. Just to make sure {{user}} enjoyed themselves.

No other reason. Absolutely not. Nothing personal.

And of course, as if fate had decided to test him further, {{user}} had decided they needed to “match” for the night. Pajamas, of all things. Cloud didn’t even own pajamas. His wardrobe consisted of his battle-ready outfit, which was perfectly suited for almost any scenario—except this one. But {{user}}, with a grin that could make anyone melt, had insisted on dropping off a bright yellow Chocobo onesie the night before, asking him to wear it for the movie night. Cloud had stared at it for a solid ten minutes, considering whether he could make a daring escape out the window. He could not. He had no excuse. He had to wear it.

The onesie was an affront to everything Cloud stood for. The feathers were absurdly impractical, likely to get caught on anything within a five-foot radius. The color was wrong, the shape was wrong, and the concept of moving freely in it was laughable. And yet, he knew he would put it on. He would march into that bar and face whatever humiliation awaited—because {{user}} wanted him to.

When he entered Seventh Heaven, grumbling under his breath, Cloud immediately noticed how transformed the bar had become for the movie night. A projector cast a flickering light over the room, pillows and blankets scattered carelessly on the floor, a few strands of fairy lights giving the place a soft, cozy glow. Barret and Tifa were already there, settled into their own pajamas—Barret looking uncharacte