Tumgik
#why is his name spelled wrong in that tag lol
nyyrami · 24 days
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WHEN THEY HAVE A NIGHTMARE . . . synopsis. sleep was meant to be a break from the terrors of the normal day world. but even sleep is not escape for your lover and nightmares plague the crevices of their mind…
tags. satoru gojo x reader, nanami kento x reader, toji fushiguro x reader. angst. hurt/comfort. nightmares. mentions of wounds and battles.death duh.
a/n. i love this trope sm i genuinely don’t know why lol. if you enjoyed a like or reblog would greatly be appreciated ty <3 dk why gojos one is so long, sorry I got carried away with it… this is not proofread so don’t come for me sfter spelling errors this was rotting in my drafts.
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GOJO SATORU was no stranger to nightmares. as much as he would like to say he was unaffected by his battles. he was human at the end of the day and like a human he would suffer trauma from it. it was only when he’d met you and he first slept in the same bed as you that the nightmares ceased. wrapped in your warm, soft arms. it was as if he were being protected by some unknown force and the horrid dreams were driven away. but they were never gone always and some days his mind would recollect what occurred during the day—or even what happened years ago…
‘‘—suguru, stop—wait.’’
satoru runs through the crowd pushing past mindless civilians. they all have the same look on their face. that they have somewhere to be, and that this pesky boy pushing them was dreadfully annoying. he wouldn’t have cared. only that suguru wore the same face as them. he doesn’t know why he ran after his criminal friend. maybe he wanted an answer? or a reason on why he would leave behind everything. leave him, Y/N, shoko. he couldn’t fathom a reason on why he would do such a heinous crime—
‘‘what satoru? what’s done is done, we can’t turn back time and change it. im done trying to.’’
the world fades to black like spilled ink on parchment, his dear friend with it but sugurus purple eyes remain. a stark light in the darkness he can only hope to hold on to. but like sand it slips through his fingers and away and he curses. at himself or suguru? he doesn’t know. only that he wishes he were so much stronger. he knows he will never be.
satoru is somewhere else again. this time a familiar alley. the sun is setting the distance casting a beautiful glow. satoru has grown. he is no longer the boy he was years ago. he’s a man now and he has a family. one he can call his own and cherish and love. but now looking at the person sitting infront of him, he doesn’t feel like a man.
suguru sits on the alley flaw, clutching his now lost arm. blood is everywhere. his robe is torn to shreds leaving his chest bare and exposed but satoru can care less about that now. now he’s focused on his dying friend who he wishes to say a million things to but he doesn’t know where to start.
should he tell him he’s now married? that he’s so happy now? that he misses him? that he wishes he could come back? satoru cant bring himself to say anything.
‘‘…at least curse me a little at the end..’’ his purple eyes are twinkling in the low light and satoru realises he’s never realised how beautiful sugurus eyes were until now. how ironic in that moment he remembers you commenting on them one summer evening. saying how they were prettier than even gojos blue eyes. how they speak a million things in no words. the world slips away and all turns white for a split moment and satoru is suspended in time. he is everywhere and nowhere.
he is seeing all his memories at once rushing past him like birds in flight. he wishes to hold onto the good ones but they escape his reach.
soon he is another place again. this time it is unfamiliar. he sees you. standing in a train station, your back is turned to him but satoru can sense something is wrong. he could sense your problems a mile away no matter how hard you try to hide them. he calls your name and you turn.
slowly but surely you look at him and your eyes widen, arm stretching out to touch him. to feel him. he walks toward you, like a magnet. a bang echoed a throughout the quiet hall and it takes him so long to realise the bang is from you.
it happens so quickly satoru doesn’t even react in time. he stand frozen in his step arms reaching out to touch your saying figure, but the light has gone out in your eyes for some reason and your looking at him but your aren’t.
you fall to the ground with a loud thud and you can’t help but remind satoru of a dead body. he hopes you aren’t one but the hole in the back of your head suggests otherwise. your fingers twitch for a second and satoru holds onto the hope that you may well still be alive but it dies with you too.
he cries out, screaming your name to no avail. shaking your shoulders in an attempt to wake you up from your sleep. ‘‘—‘toru.’’ satoru is blinded by grief, his blindfold off and his blue eyes out he takes in the world with hyper awareness but it does nothing but reaffirm that your—
‘‘satoru—’’
satoru is shooting up. the covers of his bed falling to his waist revealing his bare chest to the cold but he couldn’t care less. his body is trembling and for the first time in what seems to be forever, he’s scared—
‘‘satoru, darling—its okay, I’m here.’’ yes you are. you are untouched snd unhurt. satorus six eyes confirms but the lingering feeling of believing you were dead haunts him. your arms are around him in seconds, his head now laying on your chest.
for the next few minutes, for the first in time in what seems to be forever, satoru cries. his arms wrapping around your waist he digs his head deeper into your chest, his grip turning hard but you couldn’t care less. your attention was on your husband.
for a few minutes you sit there. satoru relying on your heartbeat to keep him calm, he slowly regains his composure but the dull tremble in his limbs is still there and no matter how much he tries to breathe in and out it remains. you rub soothing circles into his back and he looks up at you from where he lays, you finally see the whites of his eyeballs have gone red from crying and the blue seems to be shining even more than usual.
‘‘’toru. wanna talk about it?’’ he shakes his head. later. you would speak about it later when he was more comfortable but now he would rest. after what happened it seems the energy has finally left his body and he yawns. despite what had just happened you can’t help but find your lover cute. sliding back under the covers, he once again wraps his arms around you. this time entangling his legs with yours. his feet are dreadfully cold. ‘‘i love you, satoru.’’ you whisper into his hair. you can practically feel his smile through your shirt.
‘‘’m love you too.’’
NANAMI KENTO was a busy man. during his time as a normal working person he didn’t encounter things he would say were, traumatising. it was only when he returned to the jujutsu world that the nightmares returned. the last time he’d ever had them were following the death of his friend, haibara.
nanami walked through the streets of Tokyo. eyes roaming the many people and shops. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. everyone was on their way either to work, school or some place else. it was the perfect day. the sun was out and the cloud was littered with bright white clouds.
summer had always been the best season in his opinion. not for the great feeling it brought or even the great weather. but the fact that it reminded him of his long gone friend. haibara. he’d died back in his jujutsu days. hat’s why when nanami stopped in the middle of a bustling crowd, eyes hooking on a familiar figure, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
haibara stood a few feet away from him. in his usual jujutsu uniform he wore all those years ago. he looks unchanged. still the young boy at school. unawares of his fate. nanami swallows the lump in his throat away and he wants to say something.
say what exactly? he thinks, say that he was sorry? for not saving him? for not finding some way to save him? for not being strong enough? he knows what happened wasn’t his fault in the slightest but survivors guilt stands strong.
haibara speaks and his voice is surprisingly the same. the passage of time brighter dulling it not evolving it with growth. it’s a haunting reminder that in-fact he is dead. he always will be.
‘‘…why didn’t you save me, nanami?' you could’ve. you should’ve.'’ yes he should’ve. no, he couldn’t. but the guilt is a never ending well and nanami has fallen down it once again and he can’t find his way out. he runs to his friend but he can’t be stopped. he falls like water to the ground and the scene switches.
this time nanami is standing infront of haibaras body. or what’s left of it at least. his friend is cut in half, a thin trail of blood leaking out of his mouth and sliding down his chin. in another world he would’ve scolded him for his mess. in another world it would’ve been drool, but the bright red is obviously blood.
the pain is a dull throb this time. he has felt this pain already before, the feeling is nothing new.
the body changes and to his shock, it becomes you. your staring at the sky, eyes dull and unresponsive. you looked beautiful. with the way your hair spilled around your shoulders like pools or maybe it’s the slight upturn of your lips that hint a smile is coming.
what were you laughing about? he wouldn’t ever know. maybe that’s why he’s calling your same, begging for an answer. begging you not to leave him like haibara. he can’t afford to lose you too. the one who’s laid claim on his once broken heart. sown together the broken fabrics of his heart. with you he felt complete. the only person since haibara who ever elicited the feeling out of him. nanami opens his eyes and he is no longer looking at your dead body.
instead he is on his bed, in his home. throwing the covers off his sweating skin, he sits on the side. head in his hands in order to calm his breathing.
minutes pass before he hears the rustling of the duvet and your warm arms wrap around him from behind. he can tell you’d just woken up from your sluggish movements
‘‘—kento.’’
you take in his slightly trembling form and all sleep leaves you. you proceed to sit next to him quiet but a reassuring figure. you don’t ask him what caused him such distress but you can guess by the way his hands hover above the scars he gained all those years ago.
nanami finally relaxes. his heart calming, he lens into your touch. featherlight and soft. it doesn’t take him long before he’s in your arms, lying on your chest and sleeping once more.
TOJI FUSHIGURO had a hard job. one many would definitely die on but he was different. and as cliché as it sounded, he was built different. for all those years he lived with the zeni’in clan he acquired a cold heart of stone.
a defense mechanism to stop himself from getting hurt. that was until he met you of course. it seemed for the first time in his life he wasn’t living on his feet all the time. he relaxed in your presence. laughed and even cracked jokes.
he didn’t know how much of a lover man he was before he met you. he thought he wasn’t capable of such love. how you turned his life around, he didnt know.
hed just come back from a mission one he’d gained a few injuries in but nothing bad. you still fretted over him. making a hassle when you saw his blood soaked shirt. he wouldn’t deny it, he did love you hassling him about his safety, it was quite endearing. you’d went to sleep not long after, toji following suite.
toji stood in a familiar house of tradition Japanese architecture. everything screamed, money, wealth and power. something the zen’in clan prided themselves on. power brought you more money and wealth in the jujutsu world, toji was no stranger to it. ‘‘—you don’t even have any cursed energy, you mistake.''
toji had not seen the members of his clan in years. their faces now blurred in his memory’s so much he believed he had gotten over what they did to him, but now their voices always made little toji stiff backed and immediately sweating.
the man behind him had white hair and a pointed moustache but his face was a blur of colour. it seemed he’d forgotten what exactly they looked like but their voices were as clear as the day.
the harsh slap through toji off his feet and to the ground with a loud thud. a few specks off blood flying out of his now bruised lip. he’d also apparently forgotten that they beat him on the regular. ‘‘—you stupid monkey. look how weak you are—cant even fight back.’’ the man’s harsh words were followed with a brutal assault of kicks. toji cursed himself, he’d never be strong enough to fight back against these demons of the zen’in clan, no matter what he did so he took the abuse. the man kicked for what felt like hours, only stopping when he was breathless and toji was bruised all over.
‘‘you should’ve died in the womb.’’
he should’ve, he thought. he should’ve died as an infant rather than face the shame of having no cursed energy. he’d never amount to anything in there eyes other than a filthy monkey. suddenly, the man became enraged. he yanked toji up by the collar of his robe, bringing him close to his blur of a face.
‘‘your no son of mine—’’
the world faded to black and toji opened his eyes to a quiet room. he wasn’t in the zen’in estate. he wasn’t in the—
he shot up. arm reaching for the knife he kept in a daw on the bedside table. unbeknownst to him, the movement stirred you from your sleep. you awoke, groggy eyed and confused, the space where toji was once sleeping was empt, him now standing by the balcony of your apartment.
‘‘toji, what happened—’’
your words cut off when you saw the glint of something sharp in his hand. a knife. he was holding a weapons, but why— had someone come? questions flew around your brain score your eyes caught the glint of clear liquid on his cheek. you pieced two and two together and came to the conclusion he’d woken from a bad dream.
sliding out of bed. you walked up to toji, making sure not to startle the tensed man before you laid a warm hand on the expanse of his back. toji still didn’t turn, his face dutifully turned away from you. to hide what you already knew, you guessed.
trailing your hand down his arm, you hovered over his rock hard grip on the handle of the knife. coaxing him to let the weapon go. it didn’t take long before the muscles relaxed and he allowed you to take it away.
you didn’t speak for a few minutes before toji turned to fully face you. dried streaks of tears on his cheeks. he wasted no time in gathering you in his arms. his head hiding in the crook of your neck. you rubbed soothing circles into his bare back and before long you guided him back to bed whispering sweet nothing into his mop of dark hair.
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©SATURVUE do not copy, repost or plagiarise my work. likes and reblog sre greatly appreciated <3
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hrtsdevils · 5 months
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you’re no prize either. | jh86
summary actress!reader instagram au.. she’s a star!!! miss lucy gray baird herself. she dated jack. the fans know it. they hate on each other!
pairings jack hughes x ex!reader
a/n i’m obsessed with tbosas and idk where else to perpetuate my obsession fc is rachel zegler!! my love!
november 27, 2023
yourusername
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liked by tomblyth, colecaufield, ryleighwhite_, and 653,289 others
yourusername oh the love i have for this cast, this movie, and lucy gray baird. my life has changed so much, and for the better!! i’ve met so many new people and learned so many new lessons ❤️
shoutout to queen suzanne for creating the loml lucy gray ☺️ and shoutout to everybody for making tbosas possible! i love you all
ps i sang the ballad of lucy gray baird with real experiences in mind.. iykyk;)
tagged nyrangers
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ryleighwhite_ YOURE SO CUTE AND SO PERFECT AND I MISS U ❤️❤️ (so does daws)
yourusername @/ryleighwhite_ I MISS U GUYS?!!! i’ll see u soon! next rags game?
ryleighwhite_ @/yourusername YES!! as long as u wear devils gear ☺️
user292 mercers the opp 💀
tomblyth so much fun working with you, mockingjay ❤️❤️
yourusername @/tomblyth youre my bff. I LOVE YOU.
user54 HER AND TOM ARE EVERYTHINGGGGG!!! never thought a man could make me like peepaw snow
colecaufield congrats!! it was a great movie:)
yourusername @/colecaufield COLEE thank you so much i tried very hard!!!
colecaufield @/yourusername you’re so awesome
trevorzegras @/colecaufield wrong team
yourusername @/trevorzegras sorry jack’s boyfriend
user45 I LAUGHEDDDDDD she ate him up
user76 @/user45 ate what?? the crumbs 💀
lhughes_06 good job y/n
user76 not her leaving jack for knock off draco malfoy like 💀💀
user32 @/user76 you’re so weird they aren’t even dating lmao
user76 @/user32 okay well she still flopped!! glad lucy bird died
user59 @/user76 i love jack and her but she is not a flop… she has the #1 movie in the world rn and what does jack have???
user76 @/user59 his sexyness!
yourbff UR SO GOOD AND INSANE AND TALENTED AND MOMMY
yourbff I LOVE SEXY INDEPENDENT WOMEN!
yourusername @/yourbff sexy indepdnent women love you
yourusername @/yourusername indipejdent
yourusername @/yourusername independent!
user86 no one’s gonna talk abt her going to the rangers game i’m deadddd she’s obsessed
user09 queen lucy gray baird future oscar winner
november 27, 2023
jackhughes
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liked by trevorzegras, user76, lhughes_06 and 157,902 others
jackhughes workin hard or hardly workin?
i like katniss evergreen better anyways 🏹🏹
tagged colecaufield
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user35 this bitch has never watched a hunger games movie in his life
user59 jacquelyn… what is that caption… delete this rn!
user76 @/user59 it’s him eating lucy bird up
user59 @/user76 ur sm like jack!! you can’t spell these names right
colecaufield why are u associating me with your perpetual hate
trevorzegras @/colecaufield WRONG. TEAM.
_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras jack cant even spell everdeen right im not on his team rn either
jackhughes @/colecaufield @/_alexturcotte you guys are cruel
colecaufield @/jackhughes you’re cruel
_alexturcotte @/jackhughes LEARN TO SPELL!!!! put some respect on katniss’ name
lhughes_06 why?????
jackhughes @/lhughes_06 what did i do
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes you’re so dumb
user45 she was my fave wag.. whyd he fumble!!!!!
user34 @/user45 goodbye y/n! we hardly knew you 🙁
nicohischier I loved Y/n in TBOSAS
colecaufield @/nicohischier real of you nico
user09 i wanna know what happened between them LMAO
_quinnhughes i thought u liked the movie? u said u watched it when it came out lol
jackhughes @/_quinnhughes BRO
yourusername @/jackhughes aw jack how heartwarming!
jackhughes @/yourusername you’re horrible.
yourusername @/jackhughes well you’re no prize either 😉
350 notes · View notes
whatislovevavy · 9 months
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WC: 4.4k
Synopsis: An exploration of why Bucky decided to cut his hair
AN: This has been in my Google Drive for about two years and finally got around/had the motivation to finish this. This piece was technically my first ever piece of fanfiction I ever wrote. My writing mostly pertains to Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick so this was a nice little brain break from that. I thought I'd include the original author's note I put together, having never written fanfiction at the time, just for nostalgic sake and if anyone wants to know just how new to this I was lol. Also this divider is not mine and I was unable to tag the account that made it since it was deleted. This work will be posted on my side blog @sophs-writing-nook.
Original Author’s Note: Hello everyone :) This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written and I really hope you guys like it because I’m a bit nervous about it. I’ve had this idea since I saw the first promotions for the Falcon and Winter Soldier series and didn't really do anything about it for a variety of reasons. I haven’t seen a lot of fics exploring this concept so I decided to write this on a camping trip in my notes app where I didn’t have reception so I apologize if there is bad grammar, spelling errors, etc. If there happens to be a similarity to another fic, it is purely coincidence and I don’t intend to plagiarize anyone. Please let me know if it does appear I have. I have a lot of respect for fanfic writers and don’t want to disrespect anyone and steal anyone’s work unintentionally. 
Warnings: Blood, Trauma (PTSD), sadness with some bittersweet moments sprinkled in, supportive Sam because that’s a warning in itself. 
None of these characters are mine. Read at your own discretion.
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Bucky had tried finding a routine after coming back: Get up by 7, go on a run make breakfast, try to keep in touch with his friends he had made since coming back, try a new recipe, maybe try online dating, catch up on what he missed the past 70 years, try to forgive himself for all the atrocities he didn't have a choice in committing, make dinner, shower, and sleep by 9.
That's what his therapist, Darlene, told him to do at least.
She wanted him to write in a journal the names of the people and families he wanted to make amends with, things he wanted to explore and try out, and good things he remembered before he was the Winter Soldier.
Darlene had kept encouraging him to keep referring to the Winter Soldier as if he were his own separate person, and not affiliated with James Buchanan Barnes.
It helped a bit with passing the blame, but not by much. He, naturally, chose the last remnant of Steve he had- his journal- to hold these thoughts.
Steve saw the best in him when he couldn't. 
He made an effort to try and forgive himself for everything he did, for Steve’s sake. 
Why Steve had left him, he didn't fully understand. 
It didn't make the "forgiving himself" part any easier. 
If his lifelong friend, who had been with him through thick and thin, decided to leave him now in this time of his broken, mutilated life, what did that say about him? 
Was he wrong about him? 
Did he truly believe he was worth being fixed and forgiven? 
There were small moments of hope that he could be fixed, but they were few and far inbetween.
His nightmares had gotten worse.
If Darlene would ask, he’d tell her, “no, they haven't", "they've stopped", or "I haven't had one for a while.” Bullshit excuses that anybody who saw the dark circles under his eyes wouldn't believe. Darlene knew he was lying and would try to reassure him that their space was safe and it would help him to get his nightmares out in the open.
He didn't think so.
This woman didn't know what it was like to have the same horrific scenarios play out in his mind every time he went to sleep. 
To see himself killing innocent people like he was in the backseat of his mind. 
The blood. 
Their faces, some close friends and others strangers. 
Their pleas and calls for mercy were what always broke him. 
He was forced again and again to witness himself taking their lives and couldn't do anything to stop himself. Forced to use any part of himself for Hydra.
Nothing was spared.
He felt unforgivable, these nightmares were a sign of the Winter Soldier still being in his head, buried and ready if Hydra got their hands on him again. 
He was tired of fighting and worrying, only wanting lasting peace and a full night's rest.
He had started renting an apartment in downtown Brooklyn near where his family had lived during the 40's. It was near the church cemetery his mother, father and sister, Rebecca, were buried. They were placed in the row closest to the street behind the church his family frequented during his youth. 
His parents had passed from old age when he was imprisoned by Hydra. 
A small part of him was thankful for that. 
They never had to learn that their son had done such horrible things.
They lived with the good memories of him.
His sister had passed during the time half the population was gone, the Blip people called it, from Alzheimer's. He visited her once before, but she was in the late stages, and was a shell of who he remembered growing up. 
His little sister Rebecca, whom he protected, opened jars for, teased, and made sure the boys she liked would be good to her, was now unable to remember him. He was told she passed peacefully in her sleep a few months after he disappeared.
Darlene thought that buying an apartment so close to his family's resting place might be overwhelming for him, but he wanted to be close to them and the memories he had.
The apartment consisted of a basic floor plan; kitchen, bathroom with a shower and bath, living room, bedroom, closet. However, he only used the kitchen, bathroom, and living room.
He didn't have many things when he moved in, and didn't feel he needed all the space allotted to him.
He had invested in a modest tv set, a microwave, blender, and a camping mat, courtesy of Sam's encouragement. 
He had tried sleeping on a mattress, but he felt that he was going to sink through into the floor with how soft and marshmallow-like it felt. He always slept on the floor with a few blankets and sheets. 
Sam had the same experience when he came back from Afghanistan.
Sam had tried to help him adjust to things since coming back, and had done a lot for him, including to help him find his apartment and encourage him to try new things.
There were times he had trouble getting out of his headspace to return Sam's calls and initiate with his friend. Darlene had been saying that for a person who allegedly had no one left, he seemed to have a safety net in Sam. She pushed him to call someone other than her and initiate with him. It was another case where he felt she didn't fully understand how difficult it was for him to build relationships, and "get his nightmares out in the open" since coming back.
He had gotten home late that night from the store, buying ingredients to make a recipe Darlene recommended: chicken tikka masala, he thought she called it.
He was amazed at the amount of change he had missed, especially from a grocery store. His family would boil everything with what minimal spices were available, other than the usual salt and pepper. He found solace in trying new recipes and exposing himself to the technological wonders of the 21st century, including learning how to use a DVD player and the iPhone he recently bought. He tried online dating but found it was too overwhelming and made him feel like a fish out of water. Asking people on dates and seeking relationships came easily to him when he was younger before the war, but everything felt so different now. 
He felt so different and foreign to himself. His arm. His mind. He felt like a shell of the person he was before the Winter Soldier.
His groceries were unloaded into the fridge and he started to prepare his dinner. He placed a bowl on the counter for mixing chicken marinade and marinating the soon to be cooked slices of chicken. The chicken slices were placed into a pan on a low heat to begin cooking. They wouldn't take long since they only had to cook halfway through initially. He gathered the spices for the marinade.
The soft smells of turmeric, ginger, cumin, and garam masala reminded him of the evenings he spent helping his mother cook during the summer. His mother would rummage together some cash every once in a while to buy a few sachets of spices from the local grocery. It was an indulgence she took part in that, compared to now, seemed simple and less of an everyday luxury. 
Sure, the spices she would bring home were more mild and less "exotic" than what he had available to him now, but it was the familiar memory of being taught to cook and the soft smells of his mother's cooking.
His conscience told him to use the spices sparingly despite himself being confronted with a substantially sized grocery aisle complete with spices from almost every corner of the world a mere few hours ago.
Maybe it was his upbringing during the Great Depression and watching his parents worry about where the next paycheck would come from.
Or maybe it was his instinct telling him this small semblance of peace he had found in his Brooklyn apartment would be snatched away, and that he needed to savor every new experience in stride. 
Because if he let himself enjoy them too much, it would make the snatching that much more painful.
He couldn't decide.
He finished the marinade and would have to wait an hour or two to start the sauce and cook the chicken. He placed it in the fridge and made his way to the bathroom for a shower.
The warm water felt nice on his warped, scarred flesh around his arm on his left side. The area would often become sore and plagued by knots. Sam recommended warm showers, aloe vera, a massage and spa place nearby, and Advil. The thought of people he didn't know touching his scarred flesh made him feel nervous, so the rest of his suggestions were his go to. 
His scar tissue and long hair were the last physical mark of Hydra on him. 
He was thankful he didn't have to see the red star that had branded him for so many years when he looked in the mirror anymore, since leaving Wakanda.
But there was still his hair.
His hair that had blood, dirt and grime stained into it for his 70 years of service. No matter how many times he showered, he knew the blood would never leave his hair or his hands. His mind would drift through waves of hopelessness in quiet moments like these more often than not.
He dried himself off with a soft towel, changed into a pair of boxers, and began to gingerly apply aloe vera to the junction where his arm met his shoulder. His shoulder was still a bit sensitive after all these years despite the enhanced healing from the serum. Shuri theorized it was because the metal cavity of his arm continuously tore through the underlying tissue. She was able to remove the bits and pieces of metal embedded in his shoulder. His arm was in the healing process, but it would take a while after years of damage even with the serum. After he finished rubbing in the aloe vera, He put on a dark t-shirt and made his way back into the kitchen to finish the sauce.
He carefully prepared the onions, garlic, and spices for the sauce the way his mother taught him to. 
He couldn't help but think about how his parents and sister would have loved to have tried this recipe with him.
He could almost hear his mother's voice in his head telling him to "cut the onions a bit smaller" or "don't let the garlic and onions burn in the pan".
Rebecca's eagerness to try the sauce prematurely with a perfected pout and whines of protest when denied so.
His father's quiet yet strong presence at the kitchen table reading the daily paper and soft scolding of his sister.
Steve drawing in his journal at the dinner table on evenings when Sarah Rogers would be working late at the hospital.
The radio softly playing in the background as a soothing ambiance.
The kitchen window opened to let the aroma of the Barnes’ family dinner wander through the back alley of the apartment building, and let in the sounds of the neighbors' soft conversations, clothes oscillating in the wind on the clothes line, and car engines humming as people made their way home at dusk.
All qualities of his family's evening routine and upbringing he longed for, but took for granted in his youth.
The stark smell of overcooked onions brought him back to the task at hand, pulling him from his thoughts but leaving his buildup of emotions he felt were about to rupture. He added the heavy cream, spices, brown sugar, and let them stir with the marinated onions and garlic. He felt tears start to form in his eyes. Letting the sauce thicken, he turned the pan onto a low heat, and added the marinated chicken to finish cooking. 
He placed the spatula down on the counter top with a shaky hand, placing his hands on the counter to support himself as he let out a shaky breath, blinking away tears that formed in the corners of his eyes.
God, he wished they were here with him. Steve. His mom. His dad. Rebecca.
He wished he had somebody who knew him before the Winter Soldier that could help him to pick up the broken pieces of himself and to become the person he was again.
He wished he could have said goodbye to his parents, Rebecca, and that Steve hadn't left him.
He wished he could've held his parents one last time before they passed, met the man that Rebecca fell in love with and had a family with, and fought harder for Steve to stay with him and help pick up the pieces.
All things that he couldn't do anything about now.
He wiped his tears away and returned to stirring his chicken masala. Thoughts of his family blending with the thoughts of his recipe like the spices and heavy cream in his pan as a cope. Darlene had mentioned that the recipe goes best with garlic buttered rice or naan, so he had bought ingredients for both, but opted for the naan. He turned on the oven, placed some naan from the store on a baking sheet, and into the oven before returning to stirring the contents of the pan. 
He remembered Sam wanted to come over and check in on how he was settling into his apartment, sometime the next day. Maybe he would want to try some of his dish. 
"Initiate, take small steps to initiate". This counted as initiating, right? He hoped so.
His chicken masala was well blended and deemed done. His naan close behind. He placed a bowl and plate on the counter, served up his recipe and naan, and sat down at his two person dinner table, and prepared to eat. Darlene had told him that making a makeshift taco with the naan tasted good if he opted to not make the garlic butter rice. He took his first bite and let himself experience each incredible flavor. 
He would definitely be making this recipe again.
Maybe he could make a batch for Sam. 
It would be a small way to return the favor.
He made his way through his dinner, and would start heading to bed soon. It was almost 9 anyway. Shuri told him that consistent good sleep would also help him heal mentally along with his therapy and the treatment she provided.
He made a mental note to try making the garlic butter rice, thank Darlene for the recipe, and ask her if she had any more favorite recipes he should try during his next session.
He brought his dishes to the sink, moved to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and shed himself of his shirt. Sleeping shirtless was normal for him both during the war and after getting the serum, finding that he would warm up easily and end up tossing and turning in the night. 
His escalated body heat helped him to survive the frigid Siberian winters during his imprisonment, but not the mild to warm summer nights in Brooklyn.
Laying on the hardwood floor with the lights out left him with his thoughts. He remembered the nights he and Steve spent laying on couch cushions on the living room floor of his parents apartment. 
The nights he and his sister would read The Hobbit under the covers of his bed when they were younger, while their parents thought they were sleeping. 
He liked to sleep with the TV on at a low volume and the window opened so he wouldn't be lost in his thoughts for too long. 
He didn't have as much trouble falling asleep as before. Darlene told him to take deep breaths while resting his eyes and had gotten better at it since seeing her. 
Breathe in for 5 seconds, exhale for 10, and repeat till he felt calm enough to drift to sleep.
He steadily awoke hours later, feeling warm and groggy.
 It was quiet. 
The TV was off and the window was shut. 
He was none the wiser in his hindered state of being as he lifted himself off of the floor and trudged to the bathroom, the soft sound of his bare feet pattering on the wood floor like rain drops on a window, encompassing his apartment in a soft echo.
He turned on the soft bathroom light and twisted the cold faucet on, leaned down and scooped cold water in his hand, and poured it on his face. Supporting himself by his forearms, he closed his eyes and relished in the feeling of cold on his face and cascading down his neck. 
The water felt warmer now and had a distinct iron smell to it.
He opened his eyes and was met with his hands drenched in blood. Blood flowing into the sink from the tap. 
He slowly turned to meet his reflection. Met with the cold, dark, blank eyes of the Winter Soldier. The blood stained leather vest, black muzzle, and the long brunette hair stained black from blood falling over his face. 
He was there with him, as clear as day. 
He felt a stark and deep rooted sense of fear awaken and burrow itself in his chest as he quickly retreated from the sink, pressing himself against the opposing wall. Eyes wide and breathing heavy, he felt the walls of the bathroom constricting him.
The Winter Soldier reached out his metal arm, severing the separation between the mirror and his bathroom, and brought it down onto the counter top with a resounding crack, small remnants of the cheap countertop tumbling to the floor. He lunged for the door and twisted the knob but it wouldn't budge. Desperately, he tried to break down the door, knuckles bleeding and eyes teary. He could feel the Winter Soldier getting closer to him and was too terrified to turn back and face him. He broke through the door with a splitting crack, splinters in his hands. Awaiting on the other side was a long dimly lit corridor lined with bars and cold concrete walls. 
His heart stopped. 
He knew this corridor. 
He would always know this corridor. 
He didn't want to go forward, but he had no choice. Breaking into a sprint, not looking back and praying he didn't trip over himself, he felt a sudden, strong grip on his leg, pulling him backwards. Landing on the hard concrete with a groan and turning himself to face his captor: Two dark, army clad figures awaited him. He shuffled away from them as fast as he could but couldn't get to his feet fast enough to avoid being dragged to by his feet towards the bathroom. His screams echoing off the walls, and hands burning from friction against the cement floor at his attempts to escape their grasp.
He couldn't believe what was happening, he thought he was free from Hydra. 
Free from these corridors. 
Free from the chair.
He felt his nails fruitlessly catching on the small ridges of the cement floor as he was mercilessly dragged. The hallway enclosed in darkness behind him and the bathroom light ahead of him, serving as a beacon of pain and suffering. 
He was left on the bathroom floor, shaking and crying, accentuated by the sound of the slamming of a steel door. His teary eyes searched for the figures but found none. Instead, his eyes landed on the dull gleam of the worn metal frame in his bathtub, tinged with small droplets of blood, smoothed down edges, and strained leather straps.
If he wasn't sobbing before, he was now. He felt so trapped, his heart beating out of his chest; his lungs made of tin, unable to expand.
His shaking frame was folded on the floor by the bathroom door. A few moments of silence flooded by the drops of his sink tap and his attempts to catch his breath. 
Abruptly, a handful of his hair was grabbed, his body dragged to the chair as he let out seethes of pain and cries. 
He was held down in the chair as he was strapped in by faceless, dark army figures. Soft whispers and murmurs of pleas for mercy and forgiveness settled around him, originating from every vent and faucet in his bathroom, nestled their way to his ears. 
They grew louder and droned out the sound of leather going through buckles and the mechanical "wrrrrr" of the head plates assembling towards the top of the chair. 
He struggled and screamed, but it was no use. 
Trapped in the chair, no chance of escape; Limited by his mind and not his body. 
He anxiously waited and dreaded for the excruciating pain of electricity to course through his body, to hear the words Hydra spent so much time and care to drill into his mind.
But both never came.
He awoke with a startle, eyes wide, body and blanket soaked with sweat, lungs gasping for breath. 
His window open, letting in his neighbors everyday routine squeeze into his apartment. 
The TV on a low volume, playing auctions for nic-nacs and heirlooms people didn't find use for. All drowned out by his racing thoughts and attempts at breathing.
The blanket pooled around his waist as he shifted to lean against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing. 
He needed his hair gone. 
Like a wounded animal, he made his way to the bathroom with shaky breaths and uneasy strides. He flipped the bathroom light on, feverishly opening and closing drawers to find what he needed most.
A pair of scissors.
A raspy sigh left his lips as his hands met the plastic frame of the twin bladed tool.
His eyes shifted from his reflection to his hold on the scissors. 
Carefully, he brought his metal hand to his hair, extending one of his many locks of hair.
His eyes drifted from the lock of hair to the metal blades that almost fully encased it. 
Snip.
He watched as the lock frayed till it was severed completely, feeling the freed lock in his hand and watching it fall to the counter.
A sigh of relief left his lips as tears pricked his eyes as he met his reflection in the mirror. 
Snip.
Snip.
Snip. 
His tears were flowing fully down his cheeks as almost the entirety of his left side was covered in frayed, unevenly cut hair. 
He gingerly ran his flesh hand along his head, relishing in the short tufts of hair, and began repeating the same frenzied cutting on the other side of his head, and towards the back
If the tears weren’t flowing before, they were now. 
He placed the scissors onto the hair ridden counter with a clang, keeping his relieved gaze on himself, feeling his chest wrack with sobs, body slowly crumbling against the sink and to the floor.
He had never felt such relief in his life. 
His hands ran over the chopped hair, savoring the uneven patched of hair, his head laying back to rest against the wood cabinet below his sink,  eyes fluttering shut.
Muffled knocks softly rose his mind from the depths of sleep. 
He let his eyes adjust to the bathroom light, feeling his neck ache from how he slept against the drawers of the cabinet. 
Sam. 
He rose up to his feet with a groan, trudging to his front door.
His front door opened with a click.
“Hey, man-woah.”
He rose his eyes to meet Sam’s wide ones, giving him a small smile, “Hi, Sam.”
Sam swallowed.
“Late night hack job, huh?”
He gave Sam a tight-lipped smile, nodding. 
Sam’s lip quirked. 
“I, um, I made something for you if you’d like to try it.”
Sam watched as he rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh hand.
He moved from the door, leaving it open for Sam to come in.
Sam carefully stepped into his apartment, taking in the rumple of blankets on the livingroom floor. 
“It’s chicken tikka masala, my therapist recommended it.”
Sam took the plastic container he held out for him.
“Thanks for this…We should go get you a haircut. You can’t be walking around Brooklyn looking like you had a blender cut your hair.”
His lip quirked, nodding.
After a few minutes, he met him back at the front door in jeans, a t-shirt, and his bomber jacket, and glove.
“Ready to go?”
He wordlessly nodded, closing, and locking the door behind them. 
“Alright, what do you think?” 
The hairdresser adjusted his chair so he could see himself fully in the mirror. 
He could feel his eyes glaze over.
His previously poorly chopped locks were no where to be found, replaced by almost buzzed cut hair with a bit of length towards the top. Barely enough for anyone to get a good grip in.
“It’s perfect, thank you Melissa,” he muttered to the woman that gave him a kind smile in return. 
He tried to hand the man at the cashier station some cash, but Sam interjected with his card.
He looked at Sam with slight bewilderment.
“You’ll cover me next time.”
His lip quirked, as Sam nudged his shoulder as they made their way to the exit.
He stopped in front of a window for a store on the way back to his apartment, seeing his reflection in the storefront.
And for once, he didn’t have a deeprooted distaste or fear of what he saw. 
It almost made him cry.
He needed this.
His long hair gone. The last remnant of his time in Siberia, of the shackles that held his mind down under water like an anchor, gone. 
Out of sight. Out of mind.
Sam stopped a few paces ahead of him.
“You wanna stop in?”
Sam’s voice broke him from his trance.
He gave Sam a small smile.
“No, just taking it all in.”
Sam gave him a comforting smile as he caught up with him.
They continued on to his apartment to give Sam some of his chicken tikka masala, running his hand through his hair periodically with a smile on his face. 
21 notes · View notes
mlobsters · 8 months
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supernatural s8e15 man's best friend with benefits (w. brad buckner, eugenie ross-leming)
i enjoy a good play on words as much as the next person but combining dog and sex for your episode name is an interesting choice
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well dang, indoor pool and sauna? i wanna go
DEAN 'Cause you did just gank a Hellhound, which is no slice of pie, and, uh, there is a mine field of who knows what crap ahead. Just want to make sure that you are okay. SAM I'm good. DEAN 'Cause, you know, we could find another devil dog. You could tag out. I could snuff the son of a bitch.
so i viewed this as him just trying to protect sam but now i see
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i've never had such shifting opinions on a tv person's hair like i do sam's. at least half the time i actively dislike it. at most 5-10% of the time, i think damn it looks good! this shot in particular was one of the special few. his hair is beautiful, the styling/cut is what lets it down when it does
i sure hope he's not hallucinating again because that'd be a cruel trick. hmm, also in my musings adjacent to fuckup vs righteous man, i've thought about how they show sam's suffering onscreen a lot (mystery spot [lol i won't let it go], hallucifer, whatever the trials shit is gonna be) but dean we get the emotional suffering aftermath. sidenote, logistically made sense for a whole bucket of reasons of course, but (for me, personally) thank goodness dean's hell experience was offscreen almost entirely.
sounds like padalecki is sick
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um. a doberman that transformed into a black woman. with the huge sparkly bright pink dog collar still on
and this white dude witch is her master?? wtffff. don't really care what backpedaling they do, that was a shitty choice
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DEAN Well, I'm concerned. SAM Concerned about the, uh -- the witch-killing spell... or that I'm gonna mess these trials up? DEAN Look, we get too far down the road with this, we can't go back, and it'll be too late for me to jump in. SAM Who says that you're gonna have to? You know, maybe I'll actually pull this one off. DEAN I'm just saying. SAM I know what you're saying, Dean. You've said it. You know, I've been going over this and over this, asking myself "why doesn't he trust me?" And it occurred to me, finally. It's not that you don't trust me. It's that you can only trust you. DEAN Are you done? SAM Yeah, I'm done if you're done.
ugh 💔 and to be so forthright telling him how he keeps asking himself why dean doesn't trust him. and the super quick "i'm done if you're done" response has such a particular flavor of... well. something i'm very familiar with. the vulnerability of showing that he's hurt over not being trusted, that it isn't just anger, and dean basically ignoring it.. feeling of inside, shut that shit down asap and move on. don't know what he was going for particularly but it struck a chord obviously for me
phillippe LeChat. 🥴
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????????
like, we can't have dean or sam fucking anyone at the moment so we're just gonna have these two do it. was there a sex scene quotient that needed to be filled?
episode title way more literal than i expected.
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DEAN I got to ask. I-I can't help but wonder -- PORTIA Which came first, dog or girl? DEAN Yeah. Yeah, I mean, I'm just curious as to which one you consider yourself, mostly. PORTIA This have anything to do with what I told you about James and me last night? How you're imagining it? DEAN What? No, that's... yes.
dean said (sentient) dogfucker rights?
SAM Oh, by the way, got to hand it to you. It's been 15 hours since Portia mentioned her night with James, and not one bestiality joke outta ya.
not for us though
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wonder how many times i miss that he's messing with the scar on his hand
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okay.
geez i shouldn't have mentioned onscreen suffering. and using the clip of dean calling out for sam from hell on the hooks..... extra rude.
DEAN Well, it's possible I was wrong. SAM What, about James? Dude, we were both ready to gank the guy. DEAN No, that's not what I meant. Back there, when Spencer had us. He screwed with my head. I saw mom… When she died… And then some other crap. SAM Yeah. Me, too. DEAN You know, when I look back at what our family's been through, what everybody's been through, seeing all that pain… I realize that the only way we've made it through it all is by hanging together. I trust you, Sammy. With this deal, locking those sons of bitches up in the furnace once and for all, it's too important not to. So if you say you're good... then that's it. I'm with you 100%.
i'm all ♥️♥️♥️ and then immediately sam hides he's coughing up blood. okay.
that's the thing with this show, the bad plot writing whatever episodes will still have some mushy fucking brother conversations i wouldn't want to miss! like the reviled bugs episode, that had some high quality brother content
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katzkinder · 2 years
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What if, servamp characters goes to starbuck only to see their name spelled wrong, how will each characters react? (Pretty sure some spelled right but pronounced wrong) XD
For starters, I think the more important question is: which of the cast would even GO to Starbucks?
Like Lily wouldn't. You would not catch him DEAD in a Starbucks unless he was asked to make a run by one of the staff in a business setting, and even then... No one's brave enough to approach an Alicein aide for gopher duty. Starbucks is on his personal shitlist both for how it treats their workers and because their coffee is Bad
Misono also wouldn't but that's because he hates coffee lol and he doesn't like. Trust fast food chains on principle.
Mahiru isn't much of a coffee person either and besides, he thinks starbucks is overpriced and overrated
Lawless would because he's a hipster but he's also annoying so he always asks the employees to write something stupid on his cup. That said, on the rare times he DOES use his name, if they get it wrong he doesn't care too much, like. He's been there bro. Thanks and god bless, good luck on the rest of your shift. Good tipper.
Tsubaki wouldn't go unless he was with Belkia, and solely so they could go get pictures of whatever new viral concoction people are tormenting the poor employees with. It always tastes like shit and they always throw it away. Back when that unicorn drink was out Belkia got blacklisted and almost arrested cuz he tried to steal the sour blue stuff they use and made a mess.
Shamrock lives off the stuff and he hates himself. He's just. He's tired man. Leave him alone, he doesn't care, just get his order right, please. He's had his share of Karen moments. He's immensely ashamed by this.
Kuro would literally always rather have a cola. He likes their cake pops tho. Mahiru, however, thinks the price tag is NOT worth it and can literally make better ones at home, but... That requires waiting :< Kitty want cake pop now...
Iduna's used to it LOL. She's had her name misspelled pretty much everywhere that isn't home, and even then there are enough variations that she has to specify. It's whatever, just give her caffeine.
Mikuni absolutely drinks starbucks and complains about it every single goddamn time. Shuuhei wonders why he keeps bothering to get some for him. He soothes himself by asking the employees to write insults on Mikuni's cup. Will he have to deal with the consequences later? Yeah. Will Mikuni more than likely just take HIS drink?? Also yeah. Does it feel good to be petty in the moment? Absolutely.
... I didn't answer your ask at all I'm so sorry KJDFKD
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Text
Pairing: Yandere! Bruno x reader
Prompt: “Tell me how much you love me”
Description: For someone who claimed to love you, Bruno sure was... strange about it. If he wanted you to love him back so bad, maybe he should have considered that before he kidnapped you and took your limbs hostage?
Content warning: Inappropriate use of a stand (unzipping readers limbs as a punishment), kidnapping, non con/dub con touching, crying, reader is a stand user, a little bit of mind break as a treat, ask to tag
Rating: sfw
Word Count: 1781
Notes: Finally I actually write a character yan when the prompt calls for it lol. Also sorry this took me so fucking long! I hope you enjoy I’m really on a roll tonight!! Also, this lowkey feels like a hot mess but I suppose it be like that the first time u write for a character. I guess I am still new here lol
Edited: Added more spacing, fixed minor grammar and spelling errors.
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He always did this when you did something he didn’t like.
You did things he didn’t like often, though. It was fun to see how far you could push his patience; it was your one joy in this place. He hadn’t exploded on you, yet, but you were certain you could get him there.
Surely Bruno didn’t love you so much as he claimed to let every one of your so called ‘wrong doings’ go by the way side with his ridiculous punishments.
“Come now bella, you know how to make this stop.” Bruno cooed, just out of arms reach from you.
From the your mid thigh down, you had no limbs-- Sticky fingers doing. You could see your legs laying nicely on the bed a ways away from the arm chair you were set up in.
You were surprised you still had your arms; you thought Bruno had learned his lesson last time he got close to you and you used your Stand, Glory and Gore to give him a headache so strong no medicine could help it.
Your so called shared rooms was dimmed for days and you were allowed to make no sound. A small victory when it came to him. You figured after a stunt like that he would finally snap.
Unfortunately for you, it just lead to your current predicament.
“Why don’t you come a little closer and I can stop this all now.” You growled.
You weren’t stupid enough as to reach forward, lest you be stranded on the floor. However, Glory had a very small range. It was less than a meter, in fact, and she was most effective when you could touch your opponent.
Bruno simply tutted, frowning.
“It’s not that hard, _____,” Oh boy, he rarely called you by anything than one of his other pet names.
You must have really upset him!
“All you have to do is tell me how much you love me and I’ll put you back together.” He smiled softly at you.
As charming as he was, you were well past falling for his facade. No, you would be as unruly and terrible as you could for as long as Bruno kept you trapped here against your will.
“Hmm…” You pretended to think about it a moment. “Well… I don’t think I want to.” You kicked the stubs you had left of your thighs, and shrugged a little. “I mean, its kinda nice having you far away from me for once. After all, who knows what Glory and I have in store for you this time.”
You figured, next time he got close enough to touch you should give him some gross disease, or maybe just get it over with and give him a heart attack. You were tired of playing these games with him.
You watched with delight as he frowned. The two of you were at a standstill, of course. If Bruno died by your hand before Sticky Fingers rezipped your limbs it wouldn't be fantastic for you. You could probably make it back to your legs and have Glory heal you before you bled out but it wasn’t really a chance you wanted to take.
“What a shame…” he sighed, rising from his seat and moving towards the bed where your legs lay.
“Hey what the heck do you think you’re doing?” Calmly, he sat by your legs on the bed. “Don’t you touch my legs Bruno!”
“It’s a shame I can only touch you when you’re like this cara. Don’t you know how good I could make you feel?” Despite his sweet tone, Bruno's touch did anything but calm you.
You hated that you could feel the heat of his hand resting on your legs, how you could feel his fingers gently tapping your skin.
“W-wait, wait!” You cried.
All you wanted to do was pull your legs up to yourself. You hated other people touching you-- Bruno the most. He was always so handsy when you weren’t paying attention…
“I’ll say it, I’ll say it! Just please, please stop touching me… you know how uncomfortable that makes me…” You sighed softly, looking down at where your legs should be.
With one final kiss to your thigh (you hated the way it raised goosebumps to your flesh) Bruno rose with a satisfied smirk, returning to his seat before you.
“So, was there something you wanted to say to me bella?” You swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
You had been here this long, you at least knew what he wanted to hear and how he liked it said…
“Bruno…” You sighed, softening your tone in the soft and demure way that he seemed to like. Already, he was eating it up. “I just want you to know that…” You paused a moment, watching with disgust as his pupils dilated and his cheeks dusted with color.
“...I hate you! I hate you so much some days I wonder how I use to tolerate being in your squad. I don’t know how I’ve manged so far stuck with you!” You raised your voice, yelling at him now.
He was silent a moment, his face dark. Boy, he really must not have liked that… maybe you finally pissed him off enough to let you go or kill you. Or give you the chance to kill him, that would be great!
“You simply don’t know when to give up…” Bruno sighed heavily, rising dramatically from his chair.
“Give up? I won’t ever stop fighting you Bruno! I won’t ever love you!” You pushed him further, glaring with pure malice in your eyes as he only stocked closer to you.
You were so caught up in your emotions, you didn’t even think to attack him, crying out instead when he used his superior speed and strength against you.
“Sticky Fingers!” In a moment, Bruno held your arms in his, frowning all the while. You didn’t even know how it happened but your stand was useless if you couldn’t touch him with your hands.
And there was no way you could control your limbs if they weren't connected to your body.
“B-bruno wait, no!”
You were helpless to stop him as he unceremoniously tossed your arms to join your legs on the bed. He loomed before you now, staring down at your useless form. You squirmed under his intense.
“I-I don’t care what your punishment is, I’ll say I love you as many times as you want me to but please, please don’t touch me!” You begged him now, leaning back farther in the seat as best you could.
Bruno ignored you, picking up your body as if you weighed nothing and taking your seat in the armchair. Once seated, he sat you in his lap, snugly wrapping his arms around your waist as you did your best to struggle out of his grasp.
It was useless, you both knew, but Bruno didn’t bother to stop you.
“Ah ah, you had your chance for forgiveness cara. But you couldn’t just say you loved me…” Bruno sighed, brushing some hair away from your neck. You couldn’t see his face and for that, you were glad.
“Now you have to deal with your real punishment. I hope you understand.” All you could do was whimper and he pulled you closer and placed what someone might call a sweet kiss on your neck.
“P-please, wait.” Your struggling had stopped altogether, now you were trying to squirm out of his touch.
You hated it, hated the way his calloused hands felt so pleasant, how his lips felt so soft against your skin and that even now, when he claimed to be punishing you, he was nothing but gentle.
“Anything else!” You begged.
Bruno merely tipped your head to the side for better access to your neck. You went limp as he began to leave a mark, a pitiful little whimper leaving your as Bruno indulged in holding you, in showing you his love.
You really did hate Bruno-- everything about him drove you crazy. Most of all, though, you hated how… he seemed to be wearing you down. Because as the time passe his touch seemed less and less terrifying and more… pleasant. Comforting almost.
“You’re doing so good for me tersoro… Imagine just how sweet this could be if you behaved.” You only nod at his words, too lost in your thoughts to really say anything. “It’s not so hard to be docile, is it?”
Bruno dared to place a chase kiss on the corner of your lips. You knew you were done for when your lips when to follow his and saw the sweet smile on his face. “Now, bella, was there something you had to say to me?” He waited patiently, turning you in his lap so you were forced to meet his gaze.
“I… love you Bruno.”
You don’t know what disgusted you more; how easy the words slipped from your tongue, or how Bruno’s blue eyes lit up in pure delight as you muttered the words.
They could very well be true, from how Bruno had you acting at this point.
“You’re doing so well cara! Was that so hard?” He laughed softly, resting his forehead against yours.
You stayed silent, letting the words you just said wash over you. Maybe it was true… You had been here so long, you didn’t know anymore.
Did you love Bruno?
Maybe, if he was the only person you would ever see again. Perhaps you didn’t hate him, but yourself--for ever allowing yourself to fall for a despicable man like him.
“Now, lets get you back together again, hmm?” His voice was nothing if not soft and sweet.
“Okay…” Your voice is quiet, far different that the fight you had in you before.
You felt so defeated.
The fire you had to you before was all but gone, but Bruno didn't seem to mind one bit. It wasn’t often you gave him an easy moment; Bruno wasn’t one to question his good luck.
“Um… Bruno?”
“Yes, tesoro?”
You didn’t like how his soft gaze made your heart pound, how his warm hands on your waist made you feel… funny.
But you wanted more.
How long had it been since you let another person touch you?
“Could I… maybe get another kiss?” When did your voice get so small? When did you start to mutter?
When had you started to watch his attention...?
“Of course! You don’t have to ask…”
Bruno was happy to indulge you, slotting his lips against your own and easily supporting you.
Your life here, with Bruno, wasn't all that great... But maybe they didn’t have to be so bad.
After all, Bruno loved you.
You shouldn’t feel bad about loving him back… You were only making the both of you more miserable, after all.
Maybe it was better this way, being his little doll. Then again, with his trust earned, maybe you could kill him.
Get your freedom.
It was something to consider. For now you would… indulge in him. Let yourself be loved, if only for a little while…
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queerautism · 1 year
Note
I think I figured out why I used to spell Kovacs' name wrong, and it's cause I read the tag "Kovacs tag" as a possessive, like it's his tag, lol. Just realized that, and thought it was kinda funny.
-Aiden
Ahdhdk thats pretty funny yeah lol
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suckitsurveys · 2 years
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If your boyfriend or girlfriend smoked pot, would you care? No. Do you want to be single? Nope, I am very happily married.  Longest time you were ever grounded? I never have been.  Does it take a lot to make you cry? No, I cry easily. Has your best friend ever seen you naked? Mark has. 
What was the last thing you hid? My body.  Would you rather have a pet chinchilla or a ferret? Chinchilla.  Do you know anyone who does cocaine? I know someone who has done it. As far as I know they have stopped.  Do you know anyone who’s in a destructive/unhealthy relationship? Yes. My sister and her husband. If going to a concert, do you prefer it to be outside or in a stadium? Outside concerts are lovely, but only if the weather is nice.  Can you recall the most disturbing movie you’ve ever seen? I don’t know.  Has anyone you know gotten mono? Yes. Have you had a weird dream lately? Yes.  Do you own a pair of slippers? I do but I never wear them.  Have you ever been lost? Yes. When was the last time you saw your father? Yesterday. Do you know anyone who has borderline personality disorder? Yes. Is your mother a Christian? She was raised Christian but she never identified herself as such.  Who was your favorite Disney character as a child? If Jack Skellington counts as a Disney character than him.  Have you ever been in a food eating contest? Nope. Say “happy birthday” in another language: Feliz cumpleanos. I probably spelled that wrong.  Do you prefer piano music or violin music? Piano. Do you live far from your parents? Nope. Like 5 minutes away.  What’s your favourite type of cake? Carrot cake.  What is your favorite type of cat? Torties.  If you could master any sport, which one would you choose? I’m good.  If you could meet any major political figure, who would it be? No thanks.  What religion were you raised in? Are you still that religion, if you had one? I wasn’t raised in a religion and I don’t follow any.  What religion/spiritual path intrigues you the most, if any? I have some close ties to Judaism.  How many members are there in your favorite band and which is your favorite member? I have too many favorites.  If you had a baby girl right now, what would her middle name(s) be? If hell froze over and Mark and I had a kid and it was a girl, her middle name would be Kay. It’s his mom’s middle name, and was coincidentally my mom’s middle name as well.  What heritage does your last name imply? It’s a Czech word. I’ve always wondered if my family is actually Czech because my last name means of *different country* decent (don’t want to say the country because it would give my last name away) and was actually used as a “slang” word by Czechs. To me it almost seems like my family moved into the Czech Republic and they just called them this slang word and it became my family’s name, much like how names changed when people came to America. I’d love to look more into it one day. Do women breastfeeding in public make you feel uncomfortable? Why or why not? No. Because it doesn’t and shouldn’t.  How many times is your cartilage pierced in your ears? Twice, technically. I have one “regular” cartilage piercing and then one below it, towards the middle of my ear if that makes sense.  Would you rather wear necklaces, bracelets, rings, or earrings? Earrings and bracelets.  Name one person you wish you could fix things with? It would be a dream if I actually liked my brother in law and me and my husband could hang out with my sister and him.  If your best friend needed somewhere to stay, could they live with you? I mean, they wouldn’t have their own space, but sure.  Who was the last person you saw other than family? People at the grocery store lol.  Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? Not unless someone puts some on.  Do you cut tags out of clothing so they don’t itch and bother you? If they do, yes. Do you believe that Walt Disney is really frozen? Sure. When you get older do you want children? No. Do you ever wish your parents would disappear? No. What is the WORST subject they teach at school? All of it.  Would you ever consider adoption? No, I don’t want children.  Do you know anyone who is a nurse? Every girl I went to high school with.  Do you know anyone who plays guitar? Yes, my father.  Do you live within an hour of the ocean? Nope. I live far from any ocean.  Have you ever dated a friend of one of your siblings? Nope. Do you wear contacts? Sometimes.  Who are your godparents? My dad’s friend Vinnie and his late wife.  Do you have any friends who are famous? Eh. You and your last ex: who should hate who? They are too irrelevant in my life to have feelings about them one way or another.  Pick one state you’d love to live in? This one.  Have you ever asked someone out? No, actually.  Is the last person you kissed a virgin? No. Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes. Are you mad right now? Yeah, just at myself for not doing what I said I was going to today.  Will you be having sex in the near future? It’s possible.  Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst? My husband.  What are you listening to right now? My husband is watching Better Call Saul.  Are you a fan of Adam Sandler? Eh.  Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? Yes, I LOVE Parks and Rec. It may be time for a rewatch.  Do you like pretzels? Yes. Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? Mmhmm.  Is your second toe longer than your big toe? They’re like the exact same length, actually. Have you ever been to Georgia? Nope. What is/was your high school’s mascot? Wildcat.  Are you afraid of thunder and lightning? Nah. Have you ever tried the cinnamon challenge? Nope. What’s the song you most wish you had written? Happy Birthday hahahha.  Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? Nope. Has a significant other called you unattractive before? No. Have you ever found anything dirty in a siblings room? No. What’s the last nightmare you had? I don’t remember.  If you could have any animal as a pet, what would it be?  Just more kitties.  Would you ever consider getting a tattoo on the inside of your bottom lip? No. I hate my bottom front teeth and if I showed people the tattoo they’d have to see my teeth and no thanks. Do you own a book titled “____ for Dummies”? No. Have you ever encountered a shark while swimming in the ocean? Not that I know of. Do you have a sensitive gag reflex? Eh.  Where are you the most ticklish? My thighs.  Have you ever had an online argument? Uh huh.  Do you like to listen to music while filling out surveys? I usually don’t. Are you at risk for any medical issues? Yeah. Is there anything near you that’s considered dangerous? Sure. Do any of your friends know you fill out surveys? Yes, Ellen does. She reads them sometimes if I am not mistaken. Hi Ellen! Would you ever want to be a ventriloquist? No. Have you ever watched a movie drunk? I’m sure I have. Is your best friend a slut? Nope. What is your best friend’s mom’s name? Kathy, Wendy, Melanie, Cindy Have you stayed in a hospital? As a baby. First concert? Bob Dylan when I was 4ish.  Who would you like to see in concert? Honestly I kinda wanna see Harry Styles.  Are you a very affectionate person? Yes. Do you play video games? Eh. Here and there. 
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cr8zygoodshot · 2 years
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Did I go through all of Elliott’s quotes and heart events to find canon info about him? Possibly.
Friends with: Leah & Willy
Loves: Crab cake, duck feather, lobster, pomegranate, squid ink, and Tom Kha soup.
tendency to go off onto flowery, poetic tangents.
enjoys a strong beverage at the Stardrop Saloon
loves “Mysterium” at the movies
he came to Pelican Town to become a writer but “no one from his hometown believed he could make it.”
writes for eight hours at a time???? baby go to sleep
plays the piano and says he doesn’t do it very well
the majority of the bachelors express uncertainty and surprise if you’re playing as a male farmer and you romance them, saying stuff like “I didn’t think i could feel like this, I tried to deny it, etc” while Elliott is hesitant about whether or not YOU would feel that way for a man
which- Elliott, love, I gave you the goddamn bouquet.
it takes him several hours each morning to do his hair
his cabin is full of spiders
speaking of spiders he asks you not to kill any if you get married to him
doubts his writing skills
likes to be complimented
wishes there was more certainty about the future bc he doesn’t want to be lonely on the beach
has delicate skin (sunburns)
a tiny crab lives in his pocket 🦀
waters his plants with sea water
unusually self aware and apologetic
the sea reminds him of his childhood
forgets about the luau each year and gets surprised by everyone outside his cabin
cares about the jellyfish and polluting the ocean
takes much better care of himself when married
has recurring nightmares about you forcefully shaving his head- which is kinda sad
keeps a journal
has a secret book of love poems dedicated to you
he’s writing another novel when you two move in
misses the ocean when on the farm
he’s always trying to get you to relax and gives massages and such
feels burnt out when you’re not there
was lonely on the beach
literally so excited to be a dad
casually suggests having another kid over breakfast
caring for babies isn’t his thing but he wants to be a good father
cries when you pass out in the mines
takes care of the household needs when you work
really loves pumpkin ale for some reason
“why do you torment me? can’t you see you’ve shattered all my hopes and dreams?” 😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ baby nooooo
Anyway Elliott is best husband and doesn’t deserve all the hate he gets
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fillorysuggest · 5 years
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I’m writing a generally happy no-beast Fillory AU with Josh/Margo/Fen and Quentin/Eliot where after the most recent full moon on Fillory Penny shows up and is all ‘hey so. Eliot and Quentin.’ ‘What about them?’ ‘They went to an orgy last night. On the night of the full moon. It was actually a werewolf sex party.’ ‘...oh my god I leave them alone for ten minutes and they get their species changed those MORONS-‘ and that’s how two more people in their pack got turned into werewolves.
Highlights of this fic include: Quentin got Knotted™️ like three times last night, and Penny is sex repulsed asexual and the barkeeper who might have been the one to change Quentin last night won’t stop hitting on him even after Penny said he didn’t like touching and there might be something weirdly fetishizing about werewolves/humans who want to stay human there and Penny has decided he doesn’t want to know but also he’s unfortunately warming up to the guy and very grumpy about it.
Fun cameos include: all three Chatwin siblings plus Rupert’s loving husband Lance ‘alive’ in Jane’s weird little time bubble where Quentin likes to come visit them when he’s upset about something. Martin has a pretty garden outside a nice little cottage and nothing bad has ever happened to him since Jane and Rupert killed Plover and ran away to Fillory with him to protect their baby brother. Also Julia is High Queen (because Margo is high King and Eliot wouldn’t stop giggling when Margo threatened to make him a queen) and Ted is cancer free and moved to Fillory too and they both keep telling embarrassing stories about Quentin whenever, like, possible. Julia and Eliot are only slightly sad that she doesn’t get to be king and he doesn’t get to giggle over finally being The Queen from now till forever. They’re both too queer for the positions Margo gave them 😔
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mysaldate · 2 years
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Because I can't believe I have to say this (read: because the eng version is THAT bad), here's some things that the translation royally messed up:
In Vil's school uniform, Cater does comment on Vil's eyelashes but he also calls him beautiful and instead of "am I dreaming" says he thought of dating him. Vil's response is "Dating me is more expensive than you know" and it ends with Cater giving up because he can't afford him. There's no price tag on dreaming about Vil, that would be stupid.
Jamil is dear to Kalim. Not as a brother. Not as a cousin. Kalim calls him best friend and talks about how they'll always be together. No family ties there.
Leona's kingdom isn't "all about respecting the ladies" but rather the ladies are dominant there, as usual in animal society. Leona and Ruggie don't "respect women," they are scared of them.
Thaumarks are called Madol.
Blastcycles are called Magiwheels.
Spelldrive is called Magical Shift/Magift.
Housewarden is stupid, they're dorm leaders.
Special Spell is called Unique Magic as in, it is magic that only this person is capable of casting in this way.
They don't actually use the US school system and their ages don't match the system Aniplex is trying to push on them.
Just don't read anything Floyd or Cater say. Period. Most of it is so off and wrong that it's actually sad.
Sam originally has body-paint and a pattern on his vest that look like a skeleton.
Sebek is far more respectful to Malleus than Silver is and should be calling him Master Malleus or Young Master at all times.
A lot of these boys swear. Honestly, do yourself a favor and look up ACTUAL translations, not the censored bs you're being given.
Cater actually has two older sisters who used to dress him up like a girl when he was younger. They also made him hate sweets.
Cater is not a memelord making fun of his friends' mental breakdown, he is a sensitive, empathetic, and severely depressed individual and I honestly don't know why they did what they did with him.
Floyd is not a "lol so random xD" kind of character either, he is moody and gets easily bored of things that are easy for him – which is nearly everything because he's kind of a prodigy. One thing he almost never gets bored of is teasing people, especially those that get emotional easily because irrational things like emotions keep him interested.
Vil doesn't hate poor people and if you can't take care of yourself because of mental health problems, he would never condemn or insult you, he's way more likely to help you out.
The one yelling for hours after Trey and Che'nya took Riddle out to play and for a tart was Riddle's mother, NOT Trey's parents. How do you mess up this bad...
Speaking of whom, Riddle's mom is not slightly controlling, she's downright abusive. They toned her down quite a lot in EN but in JP, she spends hours yelling at Trey, his parents, AND his younger siblings, actively prevents Riddle from forming any relationships, gives him extremely harsh mental punishments for the most minor of missteps, even withdraws food from him if she feels like he's eaten enough calories for the day.
Jamil said the first thing he would teach his parrot is to call him master. Not... "Hello or something" What even...
Floyd's nickname for Lilia is Mendako-chan, meaning flapjack octopus. The scientific name of this octopus is Adorabilis, as a reference to Lilia's cute exterior.
Epel and Vil regularly get referred to as cute and beautiful respectively. This is almost entirely erased in twsten without a given reason. It is, however, safe to assume that it's due to cute and beautiful being words not traditionally associated with male characters. Twsten also erased a lot of Vil's gender-neutral speech which is a key point of his character.
Rook's nickname for Jamil is Monsieur Multi, referring to multiple sides of his personality which he usually keeps hidden, although you could interpret it also as the wide multitude of talents he possesses. The nickname is NOT Pyramid. That is just... really ignorant and racist. Speaking of which, the name of Jamil's Unique Magic is Snake Whisper, NOT Snake Charmer. Both the changes on EN feel like kind of racist ngl.
Since this keeps coming up, Trey is not toxic, let alone abusive to Cater. In fact, Trey is one of the people Cater considers the closest. Cater keeps his distance from everyone due to his upbringing (which did traumatize him, just in a more subtle way than other characters have been traumatized), but Trey is getting closer to Cater letting his walls down.
Vil changed his last name from Venue to Schoenheit so that his success isn't reliant on his father. Eric Venue is not a stage name. Vil had the chance for easy acting success and actively avoided it because it's important to him to achieve his dreams with his own power.
In book 6, Vil mentions all the overblotees being in extensive therapy after overblotting as well as undergoing physical examinations. EN erased the therapy part entirely.
There's probably more but this is what I remembered.
Edit: Cater siblings
Edit 2: Unique magic, Cater's depression, Floyd, Vil
Edit 3: Riddle's mom vs Trey's parents
Edit 4: Jamil's parrots, Lilia's nickname, Epel, Vil, and Twsten's attitude to gender
Edit 5: Jamil and the strange name changes
Edit 6: Trey and Cater's relationship
Edit 7: Vil, Eric, and names, therapy
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sugarylawliet · 3 years
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no good for me (light yagami x reader)
i’m back lol
> warnings: smut, degradation, spit kink, inappropriate use of the death note, VERY toxic relationship, song fic kinda, lyrics are in bold and italics, based off of diet mountain dew by lana del ray
> tag list: @ygm1slt @cradiot28
❛ you’re no good for me, baby you’re no good for me ❜
Nothing on this earth scared you more than the man you were about to see; the pretty boy brunette flaunting good grades and a picturesque family life whose facade of ambitious, respectful young man was a mask almost no one could see through. Some people felt dread at the thought of spiders or snakes, felt fear in their stomach imagining the paranormal, shadow ghosts or criminal stalkers invading their comfort zones. None of these perfectly rational fears scared you the way Light Yagami scared you. There was no fear to be had at the thought of something undesirable creeping its way into your privacy or comfort zone, because Light had manipulated his way into your comfort and trust long ago. He was scarier than a murderer ready to kill at an urge’s call, his blood lust hid in shadows behind his golden boy facade, his words were tools and his touches were negotiations. You couldn’t trust a single thing that came from his mouth, you often questioned your own sanity. Light Yagami had a terrifying grip on you, and it was exactly what he wanted.
Your eyes scan over the text Light had sent you for the millionth time, the words almost ingrained in your head at this point.
Come to my house. We need to talk. 
You were sure he kept his words vague on purpose, yet another tactic to keep you at his disposal out of pure fear. You weren’t exactly sure if you loved Light anymore; what was your definition of love at this point? You loved him, yes, but was it out of obligation? Was it survival instinct?
It was true, in the beginning you had loved Light purely and truly. You believed his ambition was justice, to make the world a better and safer place for you. But as time went on, “Kira doesn’t kill innocents” began racking up more and more exceptions, and as the twisted justifications spilled from his mouth, so did the gaslighting. Over and over, his sweet words convinced you to keep coming back. His empty promises were a drug and you were addicted. 
His text, you were sure, was a reference to this fizzling out of your love for him. He could sense it, and surely he must have found out you were planning on leaving. You weren’t planning on revealing that he’s Kira- that would cause more commotion you were not interested in being a part of- no, you simply wanted to move states, get away and forget about Light Yagami, forget about Kira and Ryuzaki and Ryuk and everything that has overtaken your life. However, if he did find out your plans to skip town, you may just have to reveal that he’s Kira for safety measures.
❛ you’re no good for me, but baby i want you ❜
Hestiently, you opened the door you had been staring at blankly for what felt like hours. Light had been staying in an upscale hotel during the investigation, so maybe the other tenants could hear you if you screamed for help; the overdramatic thought brought you comfort. 
You walk in the room, closing the door behind you. You’re met with the sight of Light’s back as he sits in the rolling chair across the room. In the absence of any words, without even seeing his face, you know he’s mad. Every slight change of Light’s emotions could strangle a whole room by tension alone; his aura manipulated the feeling in the air, which served as a helpful alarm to know when he is upset. And man, is he upset.
You open your mouth to greet him, but he cuts you off, spinning around in his chair to face you, “Don’t talk.” You nod and close your mouth. Why do you even listen to what he says?
“I knew I couldn’t trust you. From the very beginning I knew you would run that pretty little mouth of yours. I know you’re planning on leaving. And then what? Telling the first news outlet you see that I’m Kira?”
“No Light,”
“I said don’t talk.” He stands up from his chair, “If you tell everyone, you’ll also have to tell on yourself. Imagine what everyone would think of you if they knew...You knew I was Kira and you still dated me, you defended me, you kept my secret, you even got on your knees for me. Are you gonna tell that to the media? That you let Kira fuck you?”
You purse your lips, restraining yourself from talking back. You knew it would only make things worse, but you couldn’t stand the way he talked down on you and expected you to take it. 
“Come here.” He motioned to his desk and you followed, sitting on his lap per his instruction. He placed the death note open on the desk, handing you the pen. With one hand gripping yours and the other on your hip, he began to guide your hand, the pen spilling out the first letter of your name on the pages.
❛ do you think we’ll be in love forever? ❜
“N-No, Light, you can’t do this, please.” You begged, your heart rate quickening as you realize what he was doing. It can’t end like this, it just can’t.
“Shhh, just write. That’s it, baby. This is what bad girls get, you see?” His death grip tightened on your hand as he spelled out your name, the last letters leering closer and closer before you could register the implications of what he was doing. This was it, this was really it.
Light lets his free hand wander up to your jawline, pulling your face closer to yours and enveloping you in a kiss as he wrote the last letter of your name. You shake your head with a whine, however he disregards your concerns and runs his hand on your upper thigh. 
“What’s the matter, Y/n? Don’t wanna spend your last moments with me?~” His nose kisses your neck, and the soft, sensual gestures almost make you forget your life was quite literally slipping away at every second that ticked by. 40 seconds. You had 40 seconds to do something.
You jump off of Light’s lap, reality rushing to your lungs as you felt your world closing in. Your pants become heavier, harsh air ripping through your throat as if they were the last breaths you would ever take because, well- they were.
Your head felt buzzing and dizzy as you fell to your knees, crawling towards Light who had spun around in his chair so his back was facing you; completely apathetic. After all you’ve been through together, after all you’ve done for him, nothing. Nothing at all. 
You crawl closer, grasping towards the notebook Light held in his hands, your weakness limiting your reach as anxiety stole your clearness of mind. He only  chuckles at your meek attempts to save your own life. Your head was racing as your nervousness blacked out everything in the room except for the little black notebook your boyfriend had a death grip on; ‘I’m running out of time, I’m going to die, I need the death note, I need to cross my name out, I need it I need it I need it I-’
“Goodbye, Y/N. You were fun to play with for a while.” Light kisses your nose with an arrogant smirk, peeling your hands off from his lap and wrists before checking his watch, signaling your last few seconds. 
You quit your pitiful attempts to grab the notebook and instead push yourself further and further away from Light until your back hit the wall, lacing your fingers tightly in your hair as you cried your last moments away. 
“5, 4, 3 2...” Light spoke.
“No no no no no, please god,” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation for the pangs you would soon feel in your chest.
“1...”
And
Nothing.
You breathe. You let the air flood your lungs; it shouldn’t be possible. You dare to open your eyes, revealing the same scene. You, pathetically on the floor with tears down your face, Light before you in his chair with his head thrown back in a maniacal laugh. 
He tossed the death note down to you, like a dog being thrown a bone. You frantically grab it and flip to the newest page, your name scratched out with two thick lines. 
You were alive- no, he let you live.
❛ hit me my darling tonight, i don’t know why but i like it
“Well?” Light asks expectingly, standing up from his chair and kicking it to the side of the room. You look up at him questioningly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as tears still brimmed your eyes from the just-curved anxiety attack.
“No ‘thank you’? I spared your life even after you betrayed me- lied to me. You’re so ungrateful.”
“I, I-” You found it difficult to shape your words with your hitching breath. You inhale deeply, eyes closed, calming down, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Light.”
Why were you even apologizing?
“I’m so sorry, please, just take me back. I’m sorry.” The words spilled from your mouth so quickly simply because they felt right. You needed to apologize, you did wrong, you need to be good. You wanted him back more than anything so you can be good.
❛ scary, my god, you’re divine ❜
“That’s right,” Light smiled, his voice softening unnaturally, “Now, how about you come over here and show me just how sorry you are.”
You hesitate for a second before crawling over to him. You sit obediently with your legs beneath your thighs on the floor in front of him.
“Mm, that’s my babygirl.” He pets your head affectionately, coherencing a smile from you. Despite everything he’s done, he always knew how to reel you back in. You needed the approval. You needed his approval.
You look up at him with puppydog eyes, to which he cocks his head to the side. “You know what I want.”
Nodding, you slowly unzipper his khaki pants and pull out his cock. You run your hand up and down, pumping it slowly. 
“Don’t be a fucking tease” Light scoffs, raking his fingers through your hair and forcing your mouth down onto him. That sweet, caring demeanor was gone in barley a second- of course it was. What were you expecting? It was a thinly veiled facade and you fell for it everytime without exception. 
Light groans, pushing your head further onto him as you try not to gag. You feel the tip of him hit the back of your throat as he thrusts into your mouth faster. “God, Y/N, you take my cock so well. Hah, if only the media could see you now. Poor little Y/N wants to run away from big bad Kira, meanwhile here she is on her knees for him, sucking him off like the dirty slut she is.”
He lets out a deep sigh before pulling out of your mouth. “Be useful for once and get on the bed.” He commands, bringing you to your feet with his strong grip on your hair and pushing you in the direction of the bed. You obey, sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for his next instruction.
Light slinks over to you, standing over your figure as his delicate fingers dance up your inner thigh. He takes off your skirt and slowly rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties.
“Mmm, Light, more...” You buck your hips up to meet his touch, his movements were agonizingly slow and you needed more friction.
“More?” At once he removes his hand from between your legs and grabs your face, your jaw in between the tight hold of his thumb and forefingers. “You want more, huh? You don’t get to make demands of me. You really think i’m gonna give you what you want after that stunt you pulled? Hah, I’m not letting you off that easy.”
You let out a whine, bucking your hips again asking to be touched.
“Aww, poor baby...” Light cooed, “Open up.” You obeyed, opening your mouth before Light brought your face closer to his, spitting in your mouth. “Now swallow.”
You do, earning a smirk from Light. “Mm, good girl. Good girls get rewarded.”
He pulls your panties aside before dipping two slender fingers inside you; wasting no time, he pumps them in and out frantically.
“Oh god Light, fuck,”
“You’re so wet for me Y/N, you like this, don’t you? I knew you would, such a dirty whore. You like when I treat you like this? You like being treated for the slut you are? God, you probably got wet when I almost killed you. It makes me hard, having you under my thumb like this, under my control...”
“Fuck Light, it feels so good, I’m close...”
Quickly, he removes his fingers from you once again, earning a cry from you at the loss of heat. “Please Light, I need you so bad,” You beg.
“What did I say? You’re still not forgiven for that stunt you pulled. Don’t whine.” He wraps his hand around your throat, pushing you down onto your back.
He fully pulls his boxers down, aligning himself with your entrance.
“Beg for it.”
“Please, please light, god, I need it so badly. I want you.”
“Hmm, yeah? You’re so desperate for my cock? I’m not convinced.”
“Please, Light, I’ll never be bad again, I’ll never mess up again. I need your cock so badly, I need you to use me. Do anything you want.”
“Mm, that’s more like it,” Light remarks before pushing into you, earning a loud moan. HIs thrusts were slow, no doubt teasing you.
“Oh, Light, please, faster...”
“More demands? God, you’re such a needy slut. Fine.” His grip on your throat tightens, pushing you further into the bed as he snaps his hips into you without mercy. His pace is relentless, quickly finding your g-spot.
“Fuck, Light. It... it feels- fuck,”
“Hah, stupid slut, what’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue? Or is it me fucking you so hard you can’t even think straight, can’t form sentences?”
His words only egg on your approaching orgasam, “Hmmph, it- it feels so good. I’m gonna...”
With that, Light pulls you up slightly by your neck before slamming you roughly back into the bed, thrusting into you with speed. “Cum, show me how sorry you are.”
You obey, releasing with a loud moan of his name. He finishes soon after, roughly letting go of your throat. “Clean yourself up. You look like a fucking mess.”
You slip your panties and skirt back on as Light sits apathetically at his desk, his focus buried in paperwork. You heart skinks to your stomach. 
Once you finish dressing, Light allows you to leave, informing you of the Kira case work he had to finish and opening the door for you. 
“And Y/N,” He catches your attention before you step into the hallway of the hotel, “Let this be a lesson. Don’t ever try to leave me again. You’re mine.” He grabs your jaw and kisses you tenderly- but you weren’t stupid. You knew the motivation behind it, and let you still kissed his soft lips back and let yourself melt into him. 
“Goodbye,” He remarks after pulling away, “Behave yourself.”. The door slams in your face. 
You can still feel his cum dripping from your heat daring to spill out of your panties. The hallway was empty, allowing reality to rush to you at once. Your senses only seem clear when you were alone- with Light, you didn’t see with your own eyes or hear with your own ears.
You let your back touch the door of Light’s hotel room, slowly sliding down until you were sitting on the carpeted floor. Your life was broken pieces and you cut yourself picking up the glass shards, relishing in the fact that your boyfriend liked the way the blood looked on your pricked fingers.
❛  hurt me and tell me you’re mine, i don’t know why but i like it. ❜
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catintheruemorgue · 3 years
Text
annoying things they do
summary: small things these guys do that just grinds your gears a bit.
characters: oda, dazai, kunikida, twain, akutagawa, atsushi, mori, poe, ranpo, fittzgerald, steinbeck, chuuya, yosano, gin, kouyou, higuchi, alcott and lucy
these are all based off things i do or have inconvenienced my life lmfao i’ll probs do a part two with everyone i missed this just got wayyy to long lol next im posting being friends with double black 
Oda:
If you're wearing shorts and have bruises he will poke them when you're resting your legs on him. He’s silent about it too and if you yell at him he pretends to act like he doesn't know what you're talking about.
Will smack your sunburn but this one is actually an accident. He just wanted to pat you on the back because you're amazing.
Will space out when you talk too long, sometimes certain objects are just so… mesmerizing
Dazai:
Loves to jumpscare you the only exception is if it was a trigger. In that case he will just call your name and whip something at you for you to catch at random.
When you're driving he likes to reach over and honk your horn. It's almost caused so many roadside fistfights.
If he sees a dog in public he will bark and growl at it.
Kunikida:
Won’t let you on the bed without socks on. You could be sick as a dog and he’ll still enforce this rule.
Cleaning is hard because he has a hard time throwing things away. You'll spend extra time as he holds two identical pens, trying to decide which one he wants to keep. He’s learned to plan certain days in his schedule for cleaning now.
Won't let you turn up the music in the car and will keep it at a level that's so low it's annoying.
Twain:
Walks around the house shirtless but then complains about how cold it is.
Blasts his music so loud when he wakes up in the morning and it's always early 2000’s hits. It's not rare for you to have Pocketful of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield stuck in your head by 9 am.
Always has to climb something, this stems from his adventurous side. It's not really that annoying but when you’re in a crowded area and he runs off to go climb the tall statue, screaming at you to take a photo… Yes it is. Especially when children try and follow him and you're stuck receiving glares from the parents.
Akutagawa:
Will not let you throw any food products out. He tells you it's a perfectly good meal (even if it's not) and that he will eat it tomorrow. It’s sad because you know this stems from childhood but it’s still annoying.
Reuses the same gross, musty ziplock baggies. You keep buying new ones but he doesn't get it lol.  
Will tell you if your breath smells, hair is messy, outfit is ugly. He does not see an issue with this and it's nice knowing someone has your back but he doesn't have to be so rude about it..
Atsushi:
If he drinks he's one of those drinkers who will not let you take it from him. Keeps an iron grip on the cup. He finishes it no matter how drunk and always throws up. Thankfully he rarely drinks.
He stops to help everyone, literally even if they just look like they need help. You've been late to so many things.
Will eat anything. Once you made steak and somehow forgot about it. It was hard as a brick yet he still almost broke his teeth eating it. You think you saw some tears as he told you it was delicious.
Mori:
Listens to people's conversations in public and isn't afraid to comment, loudly, about it. You know it's loud because they either stop talking or try and confront you guys.
Comes up to stops fast and brakes so hard you feel like he does it on purpose.
Sometimes if he and Elise get into a “disagreement” he’ll try and rope you in to take his side and you always do, knowing it would probably give him more satisfaction if you chose to side with her.
Poe:
Asks for constructive criticism but will then argue with you about why you're wrong.
Always humming a song he heard Twain singing and then it gets stuck in your head too.
Will deny stupid things like why your favorite mug is in the trash or why he just let out rather loud scream in the bathroom. You know he's lying because he looks away and makes sure his bangs are covering his eyes.
Ranpo:
Will call you out on any lie even if you don't mean to lie you just forgot about some of the details.
Don't take him grocery shopping if you have a set amount you want to spend. He won't even sneak, he will just say he wants something and throw it in the cart.
Such a backseat driver even though he can't drive.
Fitzgerald:
Likes to act like he's still in his twenties and will somehow get the two of you invited to college parties where he will attempt to do a kegger in front of everyone. You end up being the one to hold him up and he always ends with a, “LETS FUCKING GO!”
Likes to ask for the senior discount even though he's not that old, he just likes to hear the women validate that he's not old.
It’s scary how he used to buy without looking and now will scream if the price on a price tag is too high.
Steinbeck:
Always looking at the grass for wheat to chew on. It's so cheesy when you walk into the city and he's got it sticking out of his mouth.
He gets weirdly intimate with nature and you feel like you're third wheeling.
Has the mentality that he has to provide for you because he is the man. He gets so shocked when he finds out you still want to work.
Chuuya:
Has a hard time making decisions you could ask him what he wants for dinner and his mind will just break.
Gets way too pissed at movies and will actually get up and walk away. Once you were kicked out of the theater because he wouldn't stop yelling at the screen. Another time he walked out you waited a whole ten minutes before you realized he wasn't coming back.
Sometimes activates his ability at night and it's so scary waking up to him floating halfway across the room.
WOMAN TIME!!!!!!!!!!
Yosano:
Will glare at you so intensely if you say something she disagrees with.
Always tries to rope you into drinking with her even if you’ve said no the past ten nights.
Will describe wounds or injuries in such detail and just won’t stop, almost like she’s trying to fuck with you, but she’s not.
Gin:
Claims to be nothing like her big brother but then will go on to make the same facial expressions and do some of the same mannerisms as him.
Will spend hours trying things on just to put it all back, leave the store and change her mind when you’re almost home. Then she’ll have you run back with her to buy it all.
Is used to sneaking around so scares you a lot. Also on the topic of being silent sometimes she just won’t respond, thinking you can just read her vibes / mind.
Kouyou:
Will judge what you eat, especially fast food but will try and steal a fry in private when you're not looking.
Will say things like, “Well that's just the way the world works.” If someone tries to share their baggage with her. You understand she’s had a pretty rough life but it's caused you to almost spit out your drink multiple times.
At functions forgets about you for about an hour while she mingles with everyone else, you could tap on her shoulder and she'll dismiss you like you're a subordinate. Until you clear your throat again you'll see the slight blush as she apologizes.
Higuchi:
She has no sense of privacy. If she hears a crash or loud noise she will bust down the door. It’s sweet but not when the noises are usually from you knocking all the shampoo bottles down again.
Horrible road rage actually puts you on edge to be in the car with her. She doesn't even have to be driving.
Likes to act like she's a professional at everything and people usually believe it because of her suit. It's so nerve wracking when she giggles when they walk away with false information.
Alcott:
Will agree to everything you suggest but you can only tell when she doesn’t want to do it when you’re currently doing it.
Yet she’s not afraid to grumble about how annoying it is when someone bumps into you and doesn’t apologize. It’s sweet but you’re left dealing with the situation if the person is aggressive enough to say something.
Always corrects your spelling or if you say something like “I could care less.”
Lucy:
Will fish for compliments in a very obvious way like, “Wow. Wish someone would call me pretty..” and then just stare right at you.
Kicks you so violently in her sleep but won't let go of you so you cant get away.
Constantly stealing from restaurants. You're banned from a couple restaurants because she got caught trying to steal a cup or salt shaker.
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insertdisc5 · 3 years
Note
Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!
thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)
spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk
not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts
-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol
-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!
-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)
-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN
-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD
-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;
-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)
-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste
-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.
-noelle. noelle. girlboss!
-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself
-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!
-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.
-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!
-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in
-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!
-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.
-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)
-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)
-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp
-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like
-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES
-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.
-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?
-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?
-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!
-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows
-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0
-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing
-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you
-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard
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that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk
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greenygreenland · 3 years
Text
Dream A Little Dream Of Me: Norman x Reader
-MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! 
-NOTE: YOU’RE BOTH AGED UP SO DON’T START TELLING ME FBI’S GONNA COME TO MY DOOR 😂😂
-THE TIMELINE IS A BIT MESSED UP SO JUST IGNORE IT COMPLETELY AND DON'T ASK ME LOL
-also, is it just me or do thick eyebrows look really cute??? Norman has pretty thick brows compared everyone else and I think they're cute 
WARNINGS: Kissing lol
Summary: You finally see Norman again.
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Life had to be the scariest thing you'd ever faced. It threw the bad, the good, the everything your way until you could barely stand. Until you were left broken and mangled and shattered. Life was scary. It was cruel. Yet somehow, today was different.
You thought it was a dream. After all, how could it be reality when the boy in front of you died a year and some months ago? He had been shipped out, left for dead because it was a part of his stupid escape plan.
So how was it he stood before you? Breathing? Smiling? Living?
The office door closed behind you with a soft click. It bathed the room in silence, as if for a moment, the world decided to give you a second to breathe. A second to take in the wonderous sight before you.
The boy's name stuck in your throat. He had changed, not only in height, but stature and appearance. Norman was older, and he grew up to be more handsome than any runway model could ever be.
"(Y/n)," he gently said. "I'm glad you're well."
That was all it took. One sentence and you tackled him in the tightest hug your trembling arms could muster. "Norman...!" To have his arms around you, to hear the beating of his heart--it was a relief. A miracle sent by the gods. "You’re so stupid!"
No, he was more than stupid. He had to be the dumbest boy alive to think that it was okay to sacrifice himself for the sake of your family. You all were supposed to escape together just like Emma said. No one was supposed to be left behind, yet Norman--bless his heart--acted on his own.
You hugged him as if he would disappear if you let go. "We were all supposed to leave together. But you--I thought you--shipped out--and then--!" You chocked on your words. What more could you say anyway?
You buried your face in the crook of his neck. The muffled sob that ripped through your throat was more than Norman could handle. His knees went weak and you both slowly sunk to the floor in a heap. 
"I'm here." he gently said. "I'm not going anywhere (Y/n)."
Despite the steadiness in Norman's voice, his shoulders hitched, and he sniffled. "I'm here." he repeated. "I-I'm here." It sounded like he were reassuring himself that he wouldn't leave you so soon, as if he were scared too. Not for the way you sobbed and sobbed, but for the ache in his heart that seemed to beat in sync with yours.
Slowly, your sobs turned to quiet sniffles, which then silenced into nothing but tiny hiccups. You basked in Norman's warm embrace. He didn't hold you too tightly, as if he were afraid it would shatter you to pieces. Instead, he pulled you close to his side and leaned on his desk behind.
You rested your head on his chest, taking the time to memorise his scent. Parchment, the woods, and old books. You liked that, it was comforting to know he still smelled the same. On the other hand, his voice wasn’t as smooth or rounded as it once was. It was icy. No one seemed to notice that tiny sharpness that hit the end of each note he spoke. You wondered what could've made his kind heart harden.
Sure, Norman was still the same Norman you remembered, but something about the way he acted seemed off. He was clingy, much more than he ever was. Maybe he just missed you? No, that couldn't be right. Norman acted as if he were running out of time. He held you close and gently, as if these would be the last moments you'd see each other again. As if there wouldn't be a tomorrow.
You slowly pulled away to get a good look at Norman's face. His chin was slightly pointier, his cheeks less chubby and full. His lips twitched upwards into a comforting smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes because he looked so overwhelmingly tired. Your poor boy probably worked day and night to keep the hideout on its feet. It must be hard on him, you thought. Especially since he was revered as a god.
Norman's brows raised. "What's wrong?"
You took his thin hands in your own and gave them a good squeeze. "It's nothing. What about you?"
Ah yes, small talk. The perfect way to avoid any question thrown your way. Norman knew you well, sometimes even more than himself. When you asked simple questions such as these, that meant your mind laid elsewhere in a land he could never reach. Norman took that as a hint to drop the subject.
For now.
He wondered what invisible weight laid on your shoulders. Was it something as heavy as his? Perhaps your weight was worse and it ate away at you. Norman wished he could take that weight away and relieve you of that pain. He'd carry it all if he could, and it didn't matter to him if he'd die trying. This was you he was thinking about. He'd do anything for you.
"I've been okay," Norman vaguely responded. "But I have been busy, so I find it difficult to sleep sometimes.”
Norman liked to be honest, but you knew it was because that helped him figure out what was wrong with you. It was a game of tag. In this case being 'it' meant figuring out each others' worries through a back-and-forth match.
"You haven't been sleeping enough?" Your voice came out rather quiet as you traced invisible circles over the back of his hands. "Is that because you have so much work? Or do you refuse to get help?" Norman sat in a still silence and you sighed.
Of course. 
This was your Norman after all. He always shouldered a burden too big for his shoulders to carry. It was always something so heavy, so terribly hard to balance by himself. If that burden grew any bigger, it would collapse, and that would be his downfall. But you wouldn't let that happen to your Norman. No, no, no. You'd take that burden from him, steal it if you had to, and be his crutch.
"What have you been doing here?" you quickly added. "As 'William Minerva', I mean?"
Norman looked unbearably uncomfortable. That little frown tugging at the edge of his lips was a tell-tale sign. “I’ve been getting a lot done." he carefully said. "In fact, I’ve figured out a way to end this. Once and for all.” 
Norman began by explaining the first phase of his plan. The first phase had long been in motion. It started with the indiscriminate burning of cattle facilities, then the gathering of information, and continued on to pave the way for all the other phases you didn’t care to hear about.
The first few steps weren't too bad, but the final act in Norman's plan made your skin crawl. You half-wished you hadn’t asked him anything to begin with. Maybe it would have spared your appetite. Your grip on his thin hands loosened and loosened until your hands rested on your lap.
Norman wasn't so little anymore. He had grown up just a bit, but not in the way you wished to see. How could he think of something so cold-hearted and cruel? The extermination of all demons in Neverland was an act of genocide. If you re-called correctly, it was also considered a war crime.
Norman was smarter than that. He understood the consequence he'd have to face if that were the path he walked right? He understood that there were still other options right? Maybe you heard him wrong.
No.
You had to have heard him wrong. Norman wasn't ruthless like that. He was a ball of sunshine that made you smile whenever you were together.
"I see..." You tightly smiled. "So that's your plan on freeing everyone?" Norman nodded with a seriousness that took you back to the time he left everything to you and Ray and Emma. 
You weren't mistaken then. Norman truly meant everything he said.
"Yes, that is my plan. It's been taking me a little longer than expected to set it in motion. I've decided to officially start tomorrow."
Tomorrow? 
Your breath hitched. "Don't you think that's a bit hasty? What if...what if something goes wrong?" Norman smiled. It was hollow and wry and everything that he wasn't. "Don't worry. Fortunately, I've always been pretty good at getting what I want." You didn't return the smile, and you didn't want to say why.
Norman was quick to catch on. But of course he would catch on so quickly, this was Norman. Your Norman.
"Do you have a problem with my plan?" he inquired. You shook your head. "No, it's...it's not that." Yes, it was that. Your plan is dangerous even if it is good, you thought. Innocent lives wouldn't be spared, and that would spell an unfair fate for the demons who ate to survive.
You wanted to tell Norman why his plan was wrong, and why he didn't have to be so unforgiving about it. But then what? Why would he listen when you didn't have any better ideas? He seemed to have his mind set anyway, so no half-baked ideas would make a difference. And besides, he was the smartest person you knew. Maybe that was the only way out of the terrible fate all you cattle children faced.
"If you're okay with my plan," Norman said, "then what's bothering you (Y/n)?"
"It's still a lot for me to take in," you admitted with a plastic smile. "I guess I'm just shocked that you're, well, here." Norman smiled, this time with a genuine warmth. "I understand." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "I'll see you at dinner."
Your cheeks burned. How bold of him. "Y-yeah, I'll see you at dinner." Norman let out a cute little chuckle that made your heart beat a little louder than it was supposed to. You hauled yourself off the floor and made your way to the door. Norman followed.
You flashed him a nervous smile, one that mixed in with your muddled worry and anxiousness. You glanced at his bright eyes. For a moment, they seemed to dim like the setting sun. It reminded you of Mama. When no one looked at her, she didn’t smile. She always looked so sad when she sat by herself, and maybe that was because she was. 
"(Y/n)?"
Your fingers brushed against the doorknob. “Hm?”
"I want nothing more than to protect you and our family. I know you don't fully agree with me," his expression darkened. "But this is the way--the only way we can save everyone without spilling a single drop of blood."
For a moment, you forgot who you were speaking to. This wasn't the same boy you begged to run away with before he got shipped out. This wasn't the same boy who gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sweetly complimented you. This boy--did you truly still know him? Was he still the Norman you grew up with and fell head-over-heels for?
You blinked and that dark look washed itself off his face. He strode up to you and placed a hand on your cheek--just like the day he was supposed to be harvested. Norman’s eyes were soft, softer than any blanket, and his lips pursed into a gentle frown. With his thumb, he wiped a stray tear away. 
Why were you crying?
"Norman..." You couldn’t find the right words. There were none that could explain the suffering you endured in silence. You worried, not only for Norman, but your family and all those other people in the world you didn’t know about. Norman’s plan--oh how stupid it was--had it changed him? Had it forced him to guard his heart to keep a still mind? 
You wondered what he endured while you went on your crazy adventures. At least you had your family, and Yuugo, Lucas, and all your friends. But Norman? He didn’t have anyone but himself. He carried the whole world. Alone. Had he been scared? Worried? Angry that no one came for him? Your heart clenched at the thought. 
"Smile,” Norman said. “It’s okay, I promise. I'm here." He gathered you in his arms and you didn’t have the heart to protest. “How?” you whispered. “How were you able to do all this on your own?” Norman helplessly shrugged. “You could say I have connections, either that or I’m just lucky.”
“What will you do after this is all over?”
Norman went still again, as if he couldn’t answer your question. You heaved in a shaky breath. If Norman wasn’t going to give you a straight answer, then you’d squeeze it out of him. “Did anything else happen to you? I’m sure there’s a catch, isn’t there?” 
It was like someone flipped a switch. One moment, you were a mess of tears, sorrow, and anguish. Now, something menacing laid in your voice. It was almost threatening, as if you were indirectly telling Norman to dare avoid the question. “I don’t want you dying trying to be everything at once,” you said. “Here you’re revered as a god, and if I know you, then it’s plain that you set yourself up like that. Don’t tell me you plan to die on us again.”
He stiffened.
“I know you Norman, don’t forget that. And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself. I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again, but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.” You pulled away and took his hands in yours. A small smile of reassurance made its way up your lips, but Norman didn’t return it. 
No, he couldn’t. And despite all he did, he couldn’t lie straight to your face. Not like this.
Dinner cheered you up. The smiles and laughter that your family shared with Norman made you feel just a little bit better. But how long would it last? And how long would those smiles stay present? All the questions swarming in your mind made you feel sick to your stomach. There was too much to think about, and too little time to answer them.
You forced down the last of your food with a sigh and brought the plate to its respectful place. Everyone was too busy chatting and catching up to notice, but that was fine. It was better that way. 
You made your way to a secluded walkway. It was in one of the calmer areas of the hideout that overlooked the lower levels. It was quiet, save for the distant chatter of Hayato and his friends. He let out a bright laugh that echoed through the vacant walkways. What a shame it would be to hear that disappear.
“So this is where you went.” 
“I told you she’d be here.”
You whipped around in alarm. “Ray, Emma!” 
Ray sharply looked you up and down. He raised a brow and you squirmed under his gaze. He gently bumped shoulders with you. “What’s wrong with you?” 
You absentmindedly shrugged. “Nothing.” 
“That’s what someone who’s not okay would say.” Emma noted. She settled by your side on the railing and flashed a bright smile. “You were so quiet at dinner today.” 
You shook your head. Que another absentminded shrug and plastic smile. “I guess I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay.” 
Ray sighed. “Everyone but you?” He leaned against the railing next to you. “Did you and Norman talk at all?”
You froze. ‘Yes’, was what you wanted to say, but no sound came out. The image of Norman’s matured face, the way his his soft lips hit your own, and his stupidly tall build crossed your mind. 
Emma let out a gasp and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Ah!” she cried. “You’re all red!” You covered your hands with your face, ignoring Ray’s curious stare.
“What did you two talk about in his office anyway? Or should I say, do?” The glint in Ray’s eyes had subtext you didn’t want to recite out loud. “Rayyyyy,” you grumbled, “shut up.” He sent you a teasing grin as Emma frowned in confusion. “I don’t get it.” 
“You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“Yeah, it’s grown up stuff.”
You ignored the warmth spreading to your cheeks and elbowed Ray. “Don’t say it like ‘that’! Now you make it sound like something else!” 
He daringly raised a brow. “Like what?” You ran a hand over your scorching face. It was a miracle you weren’t on fire. “No, no, I’m not answering you!” 
You shared a good laugh and a comfortable silence began to settle, blanketing your shoulders in a lightness that you hadn’t felt in a while. 
Emma softly smiled. “I’m glad we found you.” she admitted. “You looked really sad all by yourself out here.” Ray nodded with a small snort. “Yeah, talk about depressing. But seriously though, did something..?”
Of course these two would see through your façade. Of course they’d understand something was wrong. They were your family, and they didn’t deserve your silence. Your smile shattered. “I don’t know if Norman told you about his plan yet, but it’s...it’s bad. Sure, the demons have done some terrible things to us, but that doesn’t mean all of them are guilty. I want to stop him, but I don’t know how.” 
Emma nodded in agreement. “He told us earlier and I don’t like it either.” she firmly said. “Ray and I talked it over and we have a plan, but it’s risky. Like, really risky. It has to do with the Seven Walls and...” 
You held on to every word Emma and Ray spoke. Risky was your middle name. Well, not actually, but it was something that became your friend. You and your family looked death in the face too many times to count. What would be another?
By the end of it, you were sure this new plan would change Norman’s mind, or at least convince him to give up the whole ‘genocide’ thing. It was decided by Ray that tomorrow, you’d all talk to Norman. Things seemed to be looking up. No, they had to be.
------------
The halls were empty and you were alone. How was it you got lost in the first place? You made sure to have every twist and turn memorised, so why did you end up in the wrong corridor twice? Ray would surely tease you for getting lost. What an absolute--
You slammed into someone’s chest. A yelp escaped your throat as the person in question lost his footing. He sucked in a sharp breath and went tumbling straight into you. Your back hit the ground as the boy threw out his arms on either side of your head to brace himself. You didn’t need a name to know who you had tumbled into. Light hair, soft eyes, fancy waistcoat and suit. 
“Norman?”
He hovered over you with wide eyes. His lips were inches from yours and he was just so, so close. 
Thump, thump, thump.
Your heartbeat was so gosh dang loud. Could he hear it? Could he see the way your face burned red? 
“Uhm--I--I--uh--” 
Why wasn’t he moving? Why weren’t you moving? Why was it so hard to look him in the eyes? A nervous smile broke out across Norman’s lips. He pushed himself off of you and offered out a hand. You gingerly took it.
“Sorry.” Norman said, helping you to your feet. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Your gaze darted from his lips to his dazzling eyes and then to his cheeks dusted in red. Your heart wouldn’t stop slamming against your chest. It kept going, and going until you felt like you were about to burst. 
“Sh-shouldn’t I be asking you that?” you retorted. “I’m not the one who--you know...gets sick all the time.” You weren’t sure why you said it like that, or why that made Norman smile so cutely, but he was smiling. That made your heart flutter. You glanced around the corridor a few times, and somehow, you kept finding focus on his lips. 
What was wrong with you?
Norman caught on fast--like he always did. “Oh I see,” he said with a low chuckle. You swallowed. His voice really did deepen (but you kind of liked it). For a moment, you thought he caught onto your staring, but instead of commenting on it, he intertwined his hand with yours and led you through the winding halls. 
“Don’t tell Ray I got lost.” you muttered. Norman laughed and it was like the sound of happiness itself. “I won’t.” 
The halls all looked the exact same: cream coloured paint, nature-like decorations, and numbered wooden doors. You forgot what number your room was, so that was probably why you got lost. Norman took a sharp left where you recalled should be a right instead. “Wait isn’t it that way?”
“I have something to give you, so we’re going to make a quick detour.” Norman’s cheeks dusted pink and he looked the slightest bit nervous. “What is it you want to show me?” He flashed you a contagious smile. “It’s a surprise.” 
“What kind of surprise?”
“I can’t tell you,” he said with a chuckle, “that’s why it’s called a surprise.”
When you got to his office, you were nervous. Surprises were fun, yes, but in a world where nearly getting eaten by wild demons fell into the category of ‘surprise’, you learned not to like them very much.
Norman closed the door behind you and it softly clicked shut. Okay, you thought. So he was locking the door and making his way over to his desk. Okay, that’s fine. Norman shuffled through a cabinet, that nervous look still on his face. Okay, okay, nothing wrong here. He gently shut the drawer, and as he walked out from behind his desk, you took note of the small little box he fiddled with. 
Okay. Okay. Box. Nervous. Locked door. Did he not want anyone to interrupt whatever he was about to do? 
Norman heaved in a deep breath. A really, really, really deep breath. “(Y/n), I have never met anyone else like you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and kind.” He sunk to one knee and opened the little box. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!”
---------
You jolted awake with a start. 
“Sorry,” Norman said. He scribbled a few words down in his notebook. “Did I wake you?” 
Ah, that’s right. After you talked with Emma and Ray, you all met up with Norman and hung out for a bit. But when had you gotten to his office? Much less, fallen asleep? You rubbed your eyes with a shake of your head. Judging by the tired look on Norman’s face, it was way past bedtime.
The heavy cloak around your shoulders offered a welcoming warmth. It smelled like books. It smelled like parchment and ink. It smelled like Norman and it was comforting. 
He glanced up from his notebook and curiously met your gaze. “What are you smiling at?” The dream popped up in your mind and your smile grew. “I had a good dream.” 
“What was it about?” he inquired without looking up.
“You.” 
The scratch of the pencil froze and he met your gaze. “You had a dream about me?” Your cheeks flushed. “Yeah, and you proposed.” Norman’s back went rigid and he turned as red as an apple. “I-I pro--proposed to you?” he stammered. You snickered, a smug smile tugging on your lips. “It was really sweet. And if you’re wondering, I said yes. I was going to kiss you, but then I woke up.” You stood up with a sigh. “It was disappointing, but that’s okay.” 
You let out a small laugh and neatly folded Norman’s cloak. You left it on the couch and made your way across the room. “That’s a nice notebook.” you said. “What’re you writing about?”
Norman stilled and closed the book with a smile. “It’s nothing special.” He put the pencil down ever so quietly and stood. “Do you seek my affections?” he inquired. You settled on the wall. “Don’t you have work to do?” Norman looked down at you. His fringe brushed across his eyelashes, and he loosened his tie. Slowly.
Your heart steadily drummed against your chest. “What are you doing?” The false innocence in your voice caused Norman to chuckle lowly. He caressed your cheek with a feather-light touch. “Well, you did say you were disappointed right? Why don’t I make it up to you?” 
He rested an arm on the wall with a sly smirk. Your lips connected and it made your stomach flip-flop. The kiss was slow, it was sweet. You found yourself pulling him closer, running your hands through his hair and yanking him over. "Norman?" He met your gaze with half-lidded eyes. "Yes (N/n)?"
"Where did you learn how to do that?"
He smirked and it was hot. The fact that he kept his arm braced against the wall didn’t help either. "Why?" he lowly inquired. "Do you like it?" Your breath caught in your throat and you found yourself wanting more. 
Knock, knock!
Norman didn't look too happy about that. He ran a hand over your cheek and gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, that half-lidded look of his melting into warmth and love. He made his way to the door, tightening his tie and smoothing out his hair with a quick touch.
"Hello--?" Norman fell short mid-sentence. As soon as your gaze locked with the person on the other side, you understood why. Ray stood in the threshold, just as red-faced as you and Norman, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll come back later.” he muttered. 
Oh great. Had he been eavesdropping? You glanced at Norman and he glanced at you, then Ray, and back to you. Ray sucked his teeth and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t have too much fun.” he said, a smirk twitching onto his lips.
You made your way to the threshold with a groan. “Rayyyy!” 
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” he coolly replied. “Do whatever, I didn’t see anything.”
PART 2 <--- READ PART 2
NOTE: I spent a WHOLE WEEK writing this. Please reblog so I know you guys like it :)
TIP JAR
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accioxreparo · 4 years
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ink stains
synopsis: soulmate au in which every mark that appears on your body also appears on your soulmate’s body including, as you discover one day, drawings. Needless to say you’re determined to make your soulmate smile, even if you haven’t found them yet.
pairing: George Weasley x ravenclaw!reader
warnings: none
a/n: Hi I’m late to the party but @thoseofgreatambition is doing a soulmate theme night and I’m a ho for soumate au’s so hopefully mine is decent enough lol also I may or may not be writing one for fred too but it’s taking me ages so 
tagging: @the-hufflepuff-of-221b
~~~~~~
When you were six years old you woke up one morning to dark stains splattered all over your face and arms. You were confused and quickly grew panicked, absolutely positive that you had contracted Dragon Pox overnight. It had taken an hour for your dad to calm you down enough so he could explain with a small grin that your soulmate must’ve spilled an inkwell on themselves. 
“What do you mean?” You had asked with wide, curious eyes.
“Well,” Your dad had reached for the bedside table and picked up a quil. “Everybody has a soulmate, Y/N. One day you start being able to see the marks that appear on your soulmate's body, permanent or temporary. For you, that day happens to be today.” He dipped the quil in a well filled with bright blue ink and handed it to you. “Why don’t you give it a try? Write your soulmate a message.”
“What if they don’t write back?” You had frowned then, suddenly worrying that maybe this mystery person on the other end would want nothing to do with you. 
“Well that’s okay,” Your dad had been quick to reassure you. “They might not be able to see the marks yet. But one day they will and I just know they’ll be ecstatic to know you’re here.”
After that day there was a constant stream of doodles all over you. Vines snaking up your ankle. Twisting patterns winding around your fingers. Planets and stars littering your collarbone area. Stripes of random colors all over your palms as you mixed new colors. The most detailed pictures were always on your left arm though, that was where you practiced new drawings. 
Occasionally you wrote a message but mostly you drew. Then one day you bought a book about charms to cast on drawings in Flourish and Blotts and you begged your dad every chance you got to cast them for you. After that at least a few pictures were always moving up and down your body.
When you got your very own wand at the age of eleven they were the first spells you practiced. By the end of your first year at Hogwarts you had mastered the whole book. Since then there was always a constant supply of different colored inks in your bag and pockets. The array of multicolored moving pictures that changed every day was your one connection to your soulmate. 
They had yet to write back. 
It had been ages since you first found your connection to your soulmate. You’d dealt with scars and bruises and occasional scribbled reminders but never once had you ever received even an acknowledgment of anybody seeing your drawings. 
You tried not to let it bother you, you really did. But it seemed like every single person around you had known their soulmate for years, in one way or another. Some days the smile you wore wasn’t quite genuine, the longing you felt growing a little deeper at times, but never once did you fail to decorate your limbs with gentle reminders that you were there for your soulmate to find on themselves. 
Not until that day. You were set to leave for school the next morning and your father had taken the week off of work to see you off. The two of you, your older brother, and your younger sister were probably too focused on the quidditch match you had going against each other in the backyard of your house. So much so that the bludger hit your way completely blindsided you. 
The match ended with panicked shouts, a trip to St. Mungos, and your left arm wrapped tightly in cloth bandages as it rested in a sling while your bones healed. 
It was only when you were sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express that the strangest thing happened. Words scrawled in letters that weren’t your own had appeared on your right arm. 
Nothing new today? 
As you stared at the writing with wide eyes, more words appeared underneath those. 
I’m sure this is bending the rules but I had to know. Something’s wrong isn’t it?
Frantically you dumped out the contents of your bag, scattering them all over the floor of the compartment. You dug around the mess you had made until you found a self-inking quil. Just as you were about to write your response you caught sight of the bandages on your arm and gave a defeated sigh. 
“Would you like some help?” 
You looked up and saw Luna, a friend of yours a couple years below you, watching you with an amused smile. The two of you would always sit up late in the common room together, swapping theories and stories about anything and everything. 
“If you don’t mind,” You gave her a sheepish look and she only smiled before moving to sit next to you. 
“What would you like me to write?” Luna asked as she took the quil out of your hand. You smiled and told her, watching as she took your arm and wrote out your words for you. 
What makes you think something is wrong?
It was seconds later when you received your response. 
Not once in the six years since I’ve been able to see your drawings have you let a day pass where you don’t add new ones. What’s wrong? 
A smile graced your face and Luna was kind enough to help you continue the conversation happening on your arm. 
I’m fine. Just a Quidditch injury. I’ll have the bandages removed by tonight, don’t worry. 
Take your time. I don’t want you to hurt longer than you have to, love.
You were sure it was cheating, talking to your soulmate by writing messages on your arm. But if whatever soulmate forces were out there didn’t want you to talk to them then there shouldn’t have been such a simple loophole. 
That’s what comforted you late that night, now gently scrawling messy words quickly on your arm that had been broken only the day before. Never before had you been more thankful for Skele-Gro. 
Can I ask you something?
The print you wrote with was small on purpose, trying to keep as much room available as possible. It didn’t stop you, however, from doodling new little pictures on the back of your hand. 
Go for it.
Why haven’t you ever said anything before? Why now?
You stared at the words you had written for a few moments before sighing and heading to the bathroom that was connected to your room. Only after staring at the words covering both arms now for a minute or two did you start washing away the ink you had put there. 
For a minute you thought that you shouldn’t have asked. You stood in silence, watching as the remainder of the ink, the part written in your soulmates handwriting, was slowly washed away leaving only faint ink stains. Then to your relief a response came after it was all gone. 
I was worried. And let’s just say I’m not as artistic as you are, my talents lie in other places. 
For a second the writing stopped but then more words appeared, quicker than they had before. 
Also I may have missed seeing you draw new pictures for me a little too much.
You beamed at the words and walked back to your bed. After the curtains were pulled around it you lit the end of your wand and picked up your quil again. 
Do you like them? The pictures. 
The response was almost immediate. 
I love them.
***
“Miss Y/L/N.” 
You jumped in your seat at the sound of a voice calling your name. Slowly you looked up from where you were taking notes on nonverbal spells. Professor Flitwick stood only a few feet away with an exasperated look on his face. Meanwhile both of the Weasley twins sat at their desk looking quite satisfied with whatever they had just done. 
You’d been correct to assume they were behind whatever loud noise had been going on only minutes before. The desk the twins were sitting at was now charred and the other Gryffindors surrounding them were chatting excitedly about whatever it was you missed while your nose was buried in your charms book. 
Neither Fred or George Weasley missed the fact that you were trying and failing to keep back an amused smile.  
“You’ll be getting a new partner to do your project with,” Professor Flitwick lifted his wand and with a single flick a bag and a pile of unused textbooks was flying across the room and into the empty space next to you. “Mr. Weasley.” 
Both boys stood at the same time wearing matching smirks and chorused, “Yes, Professor?” 
You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your laugh when Professor Flitwick sighed and shook his head upon realizing that he really should have seen that coming. “Mr. George Weasley. Come meet your new partner.” 
Oddly enough said person didn’t look disappointed by the new assignment at all. Instead he grinned as he approached you, sliding into the chair beside you easily. 
You could count the number of times you had spoken to George Weasley on one hand. The first time had been during potions when he’d asked to borrow some foxglove for a pompion potion. It wasn’t the potion you’d been assigned to brew but you hadn’t questioned it. The second time he’d walked up to you and your friends after a quidditch match to congratulate Ravenclaw on their victory against Slytherin despite the fact that none of you were on the team. And the third time was only a few weeks before when he asked to borrow a spare quil in transfiguration. 
You doubted he remembered any of that though. 
“So partner,” George leaned on the desk, head resting on one of his hands as he looked at you. “What do you know about,” He reached over to look at the piece of parchment you’d been taking your notes on. “Nonverbal spells? That’s our topic?” 
“It is,” You nodded and reached for your notes, hoping he wouldn’t flip over the parchment to see the drawings you’d absentmindedly doodled during the lecture. “Is that a problem?” 
“Not at all,” George’s smile turned softer then as he stared at you, a fact which you noticed. You turned away quickly as you felt your face burn, hoping silently that it wasn’t too noticeable. “On the contrary. From what I hear you’ve already mastered a few nonverbal spells yourself Y/N, dearest.”
You froze then, not sure which revelation surprised you more. The fact that apparently you had developed a reputation without you knowing or the fact that George Weasley of all people knew your name. 
You tried your hardest to fight the temptation to ask how he knew you and why. 
“Class is almost over,” Your words came out rushed and a little too loud to sound natural. It wasn’t a complete lie. In just ten minutes you’d all be dismissed and that was hardly enough time to make even a small dent into your project. “We should meet sometime before our next class to get started if we want to have it done by the due date.”
“You’re so...ravenclaw,” George spoke after a few moments. When you looked at him again he was still giving you that same soft smile, a different sort of glint in his eyes than the one you were used to seeing every now and then.
For a second your thoughts drifted to the words scrawled on your right arm and the pictures on your left. They were covered up by the sleeves of your sweater as they usually were but you could picture the words you and your soulmate had written to each other earlier that day clearly. 
“Is that a bad thing?” You found yourself asking, for some strange reason not being able to bring yourself to pull away from George’s gaze. 
“No,” He shook his head gently almost immediately. “It’s perfect.”
***
You had to give credit where credit was due. When it came down to it, George Weasley could in fact step up to the plate. 
Even now, an early Sunday morning the day after a trip to Hogsmeade, he sat right in front of you. 
You knew for a fact he had been up late the previous night causing his usual mischief alongside his brother. One of the Ravenclaw prefects had been patrolling the halls and you overheard him complaining about having to send the twins back to their dorm for the fourth day in a row when he entered the common room.
It had made you smile. 
You’d spent at least a couple hours each day alongside George for the past two and a half weeks. Some of that time had indeed been spent on your project but you found it easier to talk to him than you thought it would be. You couldn’t even begin to count the variety of tales he told you just to hear you laugh.
That, however, meant that the two of you had developed a tendency to avoid your work resulting in you being behind. The next day the two of you would have to present in front of the class. You had already gotten away with postponing the presentation twice. 
The first time you had told Professor Flitwick that you needed more time to gather as much information as the topic deserved. The second time George had eaten one of the products he had told you he was working on, one he called a nosebleed nougat. It had worked like a charm and the moment you left the classroom with him he ate another candy and it stopped.
It was the only reason the two of you had woken up at that godforsaken hour of the morning on a Sunday. There was simply no other option now.
“I think all of our research is done and I can write up some notes for us to remember during the presentation,” You reached for another roll of parchment from your bag to do just that before dipping your quil in an inkwell filled with bright blue ink. “But we still need to practice some nonverbal spells for the practical demonstration. What do you think we should -”
It wasn’t until you looked away from the pile of books in front of you and at George that you realized he had dozed off.  His head was resting on his arms which were crossed on the desk in front of him and he looked almost peaceful for once. 
The corner of a piece of parchment was sticking out from under one of his arms and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself. Slowly you leaned forward until you could reach the parchment and you began to sketch a field of flowers on the paper in various ink colors. 
You didn’t notice your own smile as you did so. 
Then the end of your quil brushed across George’s face and he almost immediately bolted up in his seat. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes once more he looked over only to find you biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing. 
“You look suspicious,” George narrowed his eyes at you playfully when he saw the look on your face, still not noticing the addition to his parchment. 
“Do I?” You smiled then as you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms in front of you. 
“You do,” He leaned forward on the desk again and the grin you’d come to see on a regular basis returned. “May I ask why?” 
“No reason at all. I’m just excited to learn some nonverbal spells is all,” You laughed as you stood from your seat, squinting a little at the late morning sun shining through the windows. “Speaking of, I’m gonna go search for some books a friend of mine recommended with some spells we could use.” 
“Do we not have enough of those here?” George said as he glanced at the pile of no less than seven books, none of which he could remember anything about. 
“Those are all on history and theory. We need something on practical application.” 
“Right,” George let out a sigh as he reached for one of the unopened books. “You’re lucky I like you. I can’t remember the last time I did this much reading for a project.” 
You hummed and then shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Don’t I feel honored.” 
“Just get on with it,” George glanced up from the pages of the book he’d been flipping through and at you again, this time with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Faster we finish with this, the sooner we can sneak into the kitchens for a late breakfast.” 
You were quick to agree. George watched as you disappeared behind one of the bookshelves. It was only when he was sure you were gone that he rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and reached for a quil, quickly scribbling a message to his soulmate on his right arm. 
When he was done writing the message he caught sight of the flowers that you had drawn on the corner of his parchment and he grinned. Almost absentmindedly he started drawing flowers around your own, albeit a little simpler than the designs you had made. It took a minute for his eyes to widen, quil falling out of his hand, realizing that the flowers you had drawn on the paper he had already seen dozens of times before. In fact, a variation of them sat on his left arm now.
***
Finally four hours later you and George sat in the kitchens which you’d found surprisingly empty. Breakfast and lunch had come and gone and the two of you had gladly accepted a variety of foods from a couple of the house elves. 
You were completely oblivious to the way George was studying you closely, trying as hard as he could to see if he was right. 
“Puddlemere United,” He said when he caught sight of the patch sewn onto the jacket you were wearing. “I take it you’re a fan?” 
“I sort of have to be,” You laughed a little when you saw the confused look flash on George’s face. “My dad is Puddlemere’s captain.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not, promise,” You smiled as you shook your head. Without hesitation you pulled off your jacket, flipping it around so the back was visible, and pointed to a navy blue crest with the Puddlemere United logo and the word ‘captain’ across it in bold, golden letters. “Has been for a few years now and here’s your proof.” 
But when you looked at George he wasn’t looking at the jacket at all. Instead he was staring at the variety of words and pictures covering your arms. You could see his eyes darting back and forth and quickly pulled your arm away and under the table. 
“Wait,” He reached across the table and took your hand in his, slowly turning your arm around so he could see all every single stroke of ink. You could only watch as he gently traced the designs with his free hand. 
The moment was soft, intimate in the purest way. You swore you could hear your own heart thumping louder each second that passed. It reached its peak when George placed your arm on the table in front of the two of you only to pull off the sweater he’d been wearing. It was then that the breath you were holding in left you. 
Every single ink stain on your arms was perfectly reflected on his. Now that you looked closer you wondered how you hadn’t recognized his handwriting right away, you’d spent the last few months writing back and forth after all. You’d been so focused on the drawings and the writing that you hadn’t noticed what, or rather who was right in front of you. 
“I knew it was you, you know.” 
Your laugh was light when you finally dared to look at George once more. He was looking at you with pure and utter adoration and you were positive you wore the same expression. “Did you now?” 
“I did,” George grinned as he took your hand again, more confident than he had previously been. “Remember our first year when I asked you for that foxglove? I was supposed to nick it from one of the shelves but you had your sleeves rolled up and I swore I saw the edge of the stars you had drawn earlier that day. I went to get a closer look but they were covered again.” 
“And I suppose it was the same thing in transfiguration a month ago?” You shook your head with an amused smile as you thought back to the encounter. It all seemed so obvious now.
“It was. Same thing with the quidditch match a few years ago too,” He leaned forward as if what he were about to tell you were a secret. Suddenly it was like he couldn’t let you go, not that he’d ever want to now that he’d finally found you. “What made me almost certain though was the little drawing you left on my parchment earlier. I knew I’d seen those before.” 
“Well I suppose it’s a good thing you’ve kept your eyes open unlike me apparently,” You were beaming as you glanced down at the matching pictures present on both of you. “What do we do now?” 
“I’m glad you asked,” George immediately stood, pulling you up with him. He grabbed hold of your jacket still sitting on the table and started pulling you out of the kitchens. “Now that we’ve found each other we’re going to make up for lost time.” 
“By doing what exactly?” You asked, eyebrows raised questioningly and a slight smirk on your face. 
“Head out of the gutter, love,” George laughed as the two of you walked back up the stairs still hand in hand. He looked down at you with a wild grin on his face. “We’re going on our first date if you’re up for it.” 
You agreed instantly and happily followed to wherever it was George would take you, just as you knew you always would from that moment on.
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