#maybe its something that got lost in translation

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

A symptom of this I often see is that a great many Americans also feel the need to highlight to the entire world around them when something they encounter is Other, or outside of their wheelhouse, and this applies even to the most mundane of things. I have two examples of this:

First, back in 2020, a lost walrus visited the Welsh town of Tenby for many weeks and menaced its lifeboats by sleeping on the slipway. I wrote a lengthy post about this, and included the fact that the good folks of West Wales named the walrus Wally, after the children's book franchise Where's Wally.

I was inundated with Americans reacting with everything from astonishment to derision that the character is not called Waldo outside of America. It was constant. Everything from "Wait you guys call him Wally??? Not Waldo???" all the way to "Are you guys fucking stupid his name is Waldo omg"

Which is very interesting, because Where's Wally is a British franchise. He was called 'Wally' first. His name was translated into over 30 other languages, including Charlie and Jonas, depending on region. Nonetheless, I did not get one single solitary note about the name from anyone else; it was exclusively Americans, unable to keep their amazement to themselves, unable to not highlight and point out that SOMETHING IS DIFFERENT FROM US.

Second, I once wrote a post in which I, a speaker of British English, used the word 'gaol' - the BE spelling of 'jail'. Again, I was flooded with comments, asks, messages, etc from Americans who simply could not fathom why I had done so. Four of them very literally sent me asks that asked why I had done it (I mean this literally - "Why did you spell jail like that?" was word for word one of the asks), so unable were they to work out on their own that spellings differ between dialects. I responded to one, saying that I was baffled by it, and suggesting that maybe the polite thing would be to google these sorts of things for yourself rather than requesting to have your hand held through the process of learning that other places have different words and spellings than you're used to. I said I did understand, but that this was something I myself fetched up against all the time with American media, and had since I was a child - but I simply used context clues to work out meaning, or google when I couldn't, because I get that American English is a different language.

And then two things happened: the first was that a non-trivial number of Americans lost their entire shit at the very suggestion that there was anything at all rude about this (again, I really don't know what answer they wanted to that beyond "Because that's how it's spelled in my language", information readily available with a single google search), and the second was that I was then inundated with non-Americans sharing stories of how they love writing fanfic but they had to start doing it in American English because when they used their own, they would get flooded with comments from Americans trying to 'correct' them, and it just wasn't worth the hassle.

And it's ultimately a 'dominant culture' sickness, I think. When everything is constantly catering to your understandings and cultural expectations, anything outside of it feels Other, and Must Be Commented Upon. I'm Welsh, and I find absolutely any mention of anything Welsh around most English people gets the same reaction; they absolutely have to comment on the Thing They Think Is Weird. Just last week I was discussing a fieldtrip for my students with an English colleague of mine, and I said I was taking them to the Bannau Brycheiniog. He didn't interrupt, to his credit; but he got the stupid grin that I knew meant he was going to comment. He waited until I finished asking for his risk assessment input, and then rather than answering, his first response was "The Bah Bah Bluh Bluh?"

If I'd said an Anglicised or English name, he'd have just continued the conversation. But he didn't recognise the name Bannau Brycheiniog. So We Must All Flag Up That It's Weird.

And that's dialled up to 11 for a great many Americans.

(Though not all, by a long shot. I do want to stress that. In both examples I've given, I had far more Americans who agreed with me than not. But it is a common behaviour, unfortunately.)

im american and i knew that like in kindergarten so i think some of you are just stupid sorry

[violetnaps]

i know this is supposed to be emotional but i could never take ukitake seriously since he spoke like some wizened old master while saying actually the most important thing abt kaien being here is not to avenge his murdered wife but to defend his own honour

[marvelseries19]

RETURN TO YOU

Chapter Four - Castaway

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter Four | Chapter five |

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x female agent reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You’re finally found. After years lost and alone, a faint signal is enough to bring someone to your island. You're brought home, weak, scared, and unsure if it’s real.

A/N: Finally, the moment you've been waiting for. I'm not entirely sure if this should be the end. I kinda have more ideas to tell, but maybe I'll post those as like one-shots or something. I wanted to thank you guys for letting me know that you liked it. I don't think I've ever had this much engagement on my fics. I really appreciate the love this one has had.

On another note, in the last chapter, I asked if you read this, and by this, I meant these messages, I leave here, not the chapter. So, once more, do you guys read these messages?? Also, as always, any questions, requests, ideas, and feedback are all welcome. Enjoy :)

Warnings: +18, descriptions of injuries and such.

Word count: 4.4k+

[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours.]

The low hum of the SHIELD operations room barely registered as Maria Hill leaned over the dim console. The soft, rhythmic blinking on the screen in front of her was steady, consistent — unmistakable. A signal. Faint, primitive, but deliberate. Her fingers flew across the keys as she opened a secure channel.

"Get me Director Fury," she said, her voice low but urgent.

The line crackled before his voice came through, rough and clipped. "What have you got?"

Maria didn’t look away from the screen. "A signal. Old-school. Someone stripped a Quinjet transponder and spliced it into basic field tech. It’s broadcasting on an early SHIELD frequency — nothing sophisticated, but it’s clean. Repeating."

"That’s a long shot," Fury replied.

"Not if it’s her," Maria said, and there was something unshakable in her tone. "And I believe it is."

There was a pause. She could almost hear him weighing it in silence. Her eyes stayed on the blinking pattern, steady as a heartbeat.

"It’s the captain."

Fury’s silence stretched again — longer this time, heavier.

"You always did trust her instincts more than anyone else," he said eventually.

"She earned that trust," Maria murmured. And she remembered — the smoke, the fire, the chaos.

Kandahar.

—

The sky was dust-streaked and orange, gunfire painting the air in bursts. Agents scattered, wounded, shouting. No one had orders. The comms were fried. And then you appeared — ash-streaked, limping, blood on her sleeve, and calm in her eyes.

“We lost comms!” someone had yelled. “Do we pull back?! Where’s the fallback point?!”

Maria remembered how you didn’t hesitate. She remembered the way you moved — forward, always forward — as if gravity bent toward your conviction.

"With me," you said. That was all.

Two words.

And twenty agents followed you without looking back.

Maria hadn’t said it aloud that day — but someone else had. A younger recruit, clutching his rifle and running to keep up: “Captain’s got us.”

The name stuck.

—

Maria exhaled softly, her eyes never leaving the console. "She pulled twenty agents out that night. Half of them wouldn’t be here without her," she said quietly.

"Is she still alive, Hill?" Fury asked.

"She sent that signal," Maria replied. "I know it's her, and that’s all I need to know."

"Take a team," Fury ordered. "Get her back."

Maria was already on her feet. "Already working on it."

She shut the console off, leaving the weak, blinking signal behind — but only for a moment.

She would follow it. All the way to the end.

—

The quinjet dipped below the clouds like a shadow cutting through the sky, its engines whisper-quiet over the dense canopy below. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting streaks of gold and fire across the endless stretch of green.

Maria stood near the loading ramp, arms crossed, eyes scanning the horizon as if she could will the trees to part and reveal a miracle.

She’d barely slept on the flight over, fingers tight around the datapad that showed the narrowing coordinates. Each pass of the satellite brought them closer. Each sweep of the low-band signal narrowed the window.

Still, it felt like a dream.

Three years.

Three years with no trace.

Three years of dead ends, quiet funerals, and trying to help Natasha through a grief Maria shared but didn’t dare speak aloud.

And now this.

A single echo. A half-broken signal from a beacon no one was supposed to remember how to use.

She hadn’t told Natasha. Couldn't. Not yet.

Hope, Maria had learned, was dangerous when it burned too bright. And she wouldn’t be the one to light it unless she was sure. She had seen firsthand what it did to her friend , how it tore her apart each time a lead turned out to be false. Maria needed more than a faint signal to give Natasha false hope.

The quinjet hovered over the narrowed location, nestled between cliffs and jungle, and the team fast-roped down in practiced silence. Maria followed, landing with a solid thud against the uneven earth.

It was still. Too still. But the readings didn’t lie. Someone was here.

She signaled for the group to split. “Fan out. Sweep the perimeter. Eyes sharp. Weapons down unless you see a threat.”

A chorus of affirmatives crackled through comms.

They moved.

Not far away, tucked in the hollow between two rocks and overgrowth, you stirred.

The sound had been faint — a low thrum, like distant thunder.

It came again, closer this time.

You sat up slowly, your body protesting every movement. Your limbs ached. Your head spun. Your skin had taken on the leathery feel of too much sun and too little water. The weakened body you lived in now barely resembled the one that once trained at SHIELD’s academy. The one that flew the quinjet with quiet confidence. The one that could disappear without leaving a trace.

You had survived.

But barely.

You blinked hard, pressing your fingers to your ears.

Voices.

Were those voices?

You crouched low, instinct taking over even as your knees buckled beneath you. The sound of boots brushing leaves. A sharp rustle of brush being moved aside. You bit the inside of your cheek.

It’s nothing. You’ve imagined things before. You’d seen shadows become people. Branches become outstretched hands.

But the voices were growing louder now. Clearer.

“Check the cliffside—Hill’s got east.”

“There’s a trail here—looks like something’s been walking through.”

“Signal strength increasing. It’s close.”

No. No, that was real. That wasn’t just your mind trying to comfort you again. That was real.

Still, your body didn’t move. Not yet.

You sat frozen, heart pounding, as footsteps closed in.

And then—

“Hey!” a voice called. Not a hallucination. Sharp. Solid. Commanding. “I’ve got something—!”

Then another voice. Lower. Familiar. Too familiar.

“Stand down, it’s her—God—” The foliage parted, and there she was.

Maria.

Your mind couldn’t process it all at once. She was wearing tactical black, hair pulled back, eyes scanning like she didn’t dare believe what she was seeing.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything—but nothing came out.

Maria dropped to her knees, her voice thick and trembling. “Hey, hey—it's okay. It's me. I’ve got you.”

You blinked again, too weak to flinch as her hands gently framed your face.

Her breath caught. “Jesus… you’re really here.”

You tried to speak, lips cracked, throat dry. Only a rasp escaped.

Maria shook her head, a soft curse under her breath. She slipped an arm around your shoulders, guiding a canteen to your lips. “Don’t talk. Just drink.”

The water stung going down, but you drank like you hadn’t in days.

Because you hadn't. Rainwater could only last for so long.

Maria kept holding you, one hand steadying the canteen, the other pressed lightly against your back as if reassuring herself that you were solid. Real. Not another ghost.

And then she whispered, almost like she didn’t want anyone else to hear, "I'm so sorry it took this long.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You didn’t want to cry. Not yet. Not when it felt like the moment could vanish if you blinked.

But Maria didn’t rush. She stayed there with you in the dirt, surrounded by jungle, brushing a hand gently through your tangled hair.

“You’re safe now,” she said softly. “We’re taking you home. I’m gonna make sure of that. And I’ll tell her—I’ll tell Natasha.”

You didn’t know if it was the relief or her voice, but that’s when the sob broke free.

And Maria, strong as ever, just held you tighter.

The team moved quickly once they found her.

You were conscious, your body trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline as they guided you through the undergrowth. The sight of the quinjet waiting on the shore hit you harder than expected.

Your steps faltered.

The air caught in your throat.

It looked almost exactly like yours—the one that went down in flames, the one that left you stranded and alone. Your chest tightened, breath hitching, muscles locking up as memories flashed behind your eyes. Fire. Smoke. The sound of metal tearing. The impact.

You stopped walking.

“Hey,” Maria’s voice was calm and soft. She stepped in front of you, eyes steady, hand gentle on your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. We’re taking you home.”

You shook your head weakly, barely audible when you said, “I can’t… I can’t get on that thing. I know it’s stupid, but—”

“It’s not stupid,” Maria cut in, her voice rough with emotion. “After what you’ve been through, it makes perfect sense.”

Your eyes were glassy, full of apology and fear you couldn’t quite name. “I want to go. I just… I can’t.”

Maria glanced at the medic nearby, nodding once.

“We’ll help you sleep through the ride, okay?” she said, already crouching down with her. “No pain. No panic. You’ll wake up at the medical facility. Safe. I promise.”

You gave her the faintest nod, your fingers still gripping Maria���s sleeve like an anchor.

Maria stayed close as the medic prepped the injection, gently brushing damp hair back from your forehead. “You did so good, alright? You held on. We’ve got you now.”

The sedative took hold quickly, easing your breathing as your eyes fluttered shut. Maria caught you carefully as she slumped forward, guiding her into the medic’s arms and onto the stretcher.

And as the engines spun up and the quinjet lifted into the sky, Maria sat beside you, phone already in her hand, staring down at Natasha’s name on the screen.

It was time.

The quinjet hummed around her, steady and familiar. Maria sat strapped in beside the stretcher, her eyes drifting to you every few seconds — as if making sure she was still there, still breathing, still real.

You looked so small.

So fragile.

And it shook Maria more than she wanted to admit. This woman, who once sparred with her until both of them limped off the mat laughing… This woman who had stood beside her through firefights and missions no one else could have survived… Now she lies wrapped in blankets, sedated, ribs visible under her skin, lips cracked from dehydration.

Maria swallowed hard. She stared at the screen for a long second before finally pressing the contact.

The call connected after two rings.

“Maria?” Natasha’s voice came out sharp, tight. Tired. Like she’d been running or not sleeping again. “Is something wrong?”

Maria’s breath caught. “Natasha…”

Something in her tone made Natasha go completely still on the other end.

“We found her,” Maria said softly.

Silence.

“I need you to meet me at the SHIELD medical facility in New York. We’re bringing her in now. She's alive, Nat. She's—she's not in good shape, but she’s alive.”

Natasha didn’t answer at first. Just a breath — hitched, broken — and then, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve got her right here with me.” Maria looked over again, lowering her voice instinctively. “She held on. Three years, and she never gave up.”

There was a long pause. When Natasha spoke again, her voice cracked.

“I’ll be there.”

—

The city blurred past the tinted windows of the SUV, but Natasha barely saw any of it.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Every red light felt like a personal attack. Every second that passed without her at that facility made her heart pound harder in her chest.

You were alive.

Alive.

It didn’t feel real.

She had imagined this moment too many times — always in dreams, in cruel fantasies her mind would conjure when sleep finally took her. But this wasn’t a dream. Maria had called her. Maria had sounded shaken. That never happened.

Alive.

Natasha’s breath caught again, her throat tight with something she couldn’t name — hope, disbelief, fear. She didn’t even realize tears had started to run down her cheeks until they hit her jaw. She didn’t wipe them away.

Three years.

Three years of not knowing. Of waking up and reaching for someone who wasn’t there. Of closing her eyes and hearing your laugh, only for silence to greet her. Of rage. Of grief so heavy it felt like a second skin.

And now… you were back.

But at what cost?

She kept replaying Maria’s voice in her head. Not in good shape. Those four words sliced deeper than anything else. Natasha had seen the aftermath of war. She had seen what being stranded did to a person, physically and mentally.

What if you didn’t remember her? What if the pain of those years had buried the part of you that knew her name? What if the reunion she’d dreamed of — clung to — was nothing like the reality waiting for her?

The driver turned sharply, and Natasha gritted her teeth, leaning forward.

“How much longer?”

“Five minutes, ma’am.”

Not fast enough.

She closed her eyes. Forced herself to breathe. One hand unconsciously reached for the ring still looped through the chain around her neck — your ring — warm now from her skin.

She didn’t know what she’d find when she walked into that facility.

But for the first time in three years… she had something to walk toward.

You.

—

The quinjet touched down with a soft thud on the rooftop pad of the SHIELD medical facility.

Before the engines had fully powered down, the med team was already waiting — gurney prepped, portable monitors ready, gloved hands reaching for the ramp before it even dropped.

Maria stood to the side, out of the way but not detached. Her jaw was clenched, arms crossed tightly over her chest, as if holding herself together. She hadn’t said much since the sedation. Only that she’d call Natasha again once they landed. But she didn’t need to. The call had already been made. Natasha would be here soon. She knew it.

The second the hatch opened, the team surged forward.

You were still unconscious — sedated, peaceful in the worst way. Your skin looked pale under the harsh facility lights, your body far too light as they transferred you to the gurney. The bruises, the cuts, the ribs pressing too close to the surface — it was all too visible now.

Monitors were clipped to your finger, an oxygen mask gently pressed to your face, and soft commands echoing between the medics:

“Get her on fluids, stat.”

“We need a CBC and a full metabolic panel.”

“Chest X-ray, abdominal ultrasound.”

“She’s dehydrated; start with normal saline, keep it slow.”

The medics disappeared down the hall with you, swift and practiced, the sound of their shoes a controlled blur of movement.

Natasha had just stepped into the hallway when she saw them roll the gurney past.

She stopped mid-step.

Time halted.

You.

There. Real.

But not awake. Not smiling. Not whole.

Her hand went to the wall to steady herself. Her breath left her in a sharp, silent exhale. She couldn’t move.

Maria stepped in beside her, watching the hallway where the doors had just swung closed behind the gurney. “She’s stable. Vitals are holding. They’ll take care of her.”

Natasha didn’t speak. Her eyes hadn’t moved from that door.

A nurse came around the corner holding something small and delicate in a gloved hand. She looked between them before gently addressing Natasha.

“She was wearing this,” she said softly, offering the chain.

Natasha reached out slowly, her hand trembling as she took it.

Your ring. Still looped through the chain she gave you three years ago.

She held it tightly in her fist, pressing it to her lips like a prayer.

Maria watched her quietly. “She survived,” she whispered, more to herself than to Natasha. “She actually survived.”

Natasha’s voice cracked when she finally spoke, low and hoarse. “She wasn’t supposed to.”

Down the hallway, machines beeped. Doors swung. A medical team did everything they could to stabilize you — rehydrate, monitor, and evaluate. You didn’t stir, but you were alive.

That was all that mattered.

For now.

It felt like hours.

The sterile hallway never changed, but Natasha hadn't moved from that same spot. She leaned forward in the plastic chair, elbows on her knees, fingers still curled around the chain holding your ring. The weight of it was nothing — and everything.

Maria had stayed close, pacing occasionally, making a few quiet calls, but mostly giving Natasha space. There were no words left to say.

Finally, a doctor emerged from behind the double doors. He looked tired but calm.

“She’s stable. Fluids are working, and her bloodwork came back cleaner than we expected. Malnourished, yes. Exhausted, definitely. But no infection, no internal injuries beyond the obvious bruising, and a few injuries that didn't heal properly, but nothing to worry about. We sedated her gently. She might wake up soon.”

Natasha stood the moment the doctor nodded toward the room. “Can I see her?”

“Yes. Just for a few minutes, and keep it quiet. She’s been through a lot.”

Natasha didn’t answer. She was already moving.

—

The room was dim and quiet, the steady beep of the heart monitor the only sound. You were there, lying so still under the soft white sheets, a faint oxygen tube at your nose, IVs at your side.

Natasha stopped at the foot of the bed. She wasn’t ready. She’d pictured this moment a hundred different ways over the past three years. None of them came close.

You looked like you and not like you — thinner, paler, yet tanned, your hair longer and tangled in places, and skin marked with sun and wear. But it was you.

Carefully, Natasha stepped closer, lowering herself into the chair beside your bed. She didn’t speak. She just watched. Studied your face. Every part of her wanted to reach out — but she couldn’t bring herself to disturb the fragile stillness.

She opened her hand. The ring glinted dully in the light.

“I never stopped wearing it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Never took it off. Not once.”

Her fingers curled gently around your hand, the one not bound by tape and tubing. You were warm. Not cold. Not gone.

“I should’ve been with you,” she whispered. “I should’ve—”

But she couldn’t finish.

Her breath caught, and for the first time in years, Natasha Romanoff let her shoulders fall and her head bow beside the woman she never stopped loving.

She stayed like that. Until the rhythm of your heart monitor seemed to slow into something steadier. Familiar.

Until maybe — just maybe — she felt your fingers twitch beneath her own.

Natasha’s eyes remained fixed on you, but her mind had drifted. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, nor how many times she had muttered those quiet, broken words — promises, apologies, confessions — to the room, to the air, to you.

The weight of everything she hadn’t said was finally crashing down on her, more than she could have prepared for. The years without you, the months of pretending she could go on without even knowing where you were, the guilt that had gnawed at her every waking moment, the hopelessness she buried deeper each day. It had always felt like she was waiting for something — waiting for the call, the news, anything that would bring you back into her world. She couldn’t breathe without the thought of you, couldn’t focus on anything with your absence hanging like a shadow.

But here you were, lying in front of her, fragile and yet still alive.

Alive.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she held the ring, the very symbol of everything she’d almost lost forever. The years had worn away at its luster, but it still gleamed, faintly — a promise. She had thought she’d never see you again. She thought she’d have to carry this unfulfilled promise forever.

And yet, here you were.

Her eyes filled with tears that she refused to let fall. She wasn’t going to cry. She couldn’t. Not here, not now, when you needed her more than ever.

"I promised you I’d come for you," she whispered, her voice rough. "I promised."

She held the ring in her hand as if it could reach you — as if it could bridge the gap between her pain and your absence. She was scared, more than she cared to admit. Scared of how you might feel when you woke up. Scared of what you might remember. Scared of how fragile this moment was — of how fragile you were.

Her hand moved slowly to the side of your bed. She didn’t want to disturb you, but she couldn’t stop herself. The need to be close to you was overwhelming. The need to feel that connection — that spark of life that had once been so familiar, so undeniable between you.

“I couldn’t live without you,” Natasha whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “I won’t let you go again.”

For a moment, she simply sat there, eyes closed, listening to the steady rhythm of your breath. The world outside the room seemed distant and cold — nothing mattered except the space between her and you, the fragile space that had once been filled with shared laughter, quiet mornings, and stolen moments.

The steady beep of the heart monitor seemed to echo in her mind, a reminder that you were here, that you were real, that you were alive. But what was left for the two of you now? Could things be the same after all that had happened? Natasha didn’t know. All she knew was that she couldn't—wouldn't— let you slip away again.

The door creaked softly, and Maria stepped in, her expression quiet but understanding. Natasha didn’t look up. She didn’t want anyone else in this moment, but Maria’s presence was a grounding force — a reminder that Natasha hadn’t been completely alone through all of this.

“She’s going to be okay,” Maria said, her voice gentle but firm. “She’s a fighter, Nat.”

Natasha didn’t respond, her eyes never leaving you. She wasn’t ready for anyone’s reassurance. Not yet.

Maria waited for a moment, then sighed softly. “I’ll give you some time. Just… don’t do this alone. Not again.”

But Natasha didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She didn’t know how to explain the ache in her chest, the heaviness that had been there for years. There was no way to put it into words.

She only nodded silently, her gaze never wavering from your sleeping form. And in that silence, Natasha finally let herself hope again. Not just for your safety, but for something more. Something she had almost forgotten how to believe in.

She wasn’t alone anymore. Neither of them was.

—

The first thing you felt was the weight of your own body. The heaviness of skin and bone sinking into the sterile softness of hospital sheets. The dull ache beneath the surface of everything. But more than that, it was the quiet hum of machines, the faint beeping of a heart monitor, and the sterile scent of antiseptic that confirmed it — you weren’t on the island anymore.

You were safe.

That realization alone felt unreal.

Your eyelids fluttered, the light above muted through lashes you struggled to lift. The world came back to you in pieces — sound, then shape, then color. The sharp clarity of a cold IV line in your hand. The warmth of a blanket pulled up to your chest. The dull echo of a familiar voice.

It was the last one that made your heart stutter.

Natasha.

She was sitting beside you. Tired. Still. Her posture held together by force alone, like she hadn’t moved in hours — maybe longer. Her hands were folded in her lap, but her entire body leaned ever so slightly toward you, as if afraid you’d vanish if she didn’t stay close.

You blinked slowly, and her eyes found yours in an instant.

The breath she let out was shaky. You saw it — the moment she shattered just a little more but also held herself together just enough to stay strong for you.

“…hey,” she whispered. Her voice was raw, barely a sound at all. But her eyes were full — of grief, of relief, of everything she hadn’t dared let herself feel until now. “You’re here.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. You tried again — your voice rasped and cracked, dry and weak.

“…Hi,” you whispered.

Tears welled up in her eyes immediately. Natasha leaned forward, slowly, cautiously, her hand brushing your arm like she needed to touch you to believe this was real. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Weeks. Maybe years.

“I didn’t think…” you started, the words struggling to form.

“I know,” she said, voice tight. “Me neither.”

Your eyes darted around, and that’s when you saw it — sitting on the table beside a vase of white flowers, looking oddly solemn in the sterile light — was Red. Your Red. The coconut you once talked to when you were losing hope, when your voice was the only one on that island. Someone had even propped it up with a little folded towel beneath it like a throne.

You stared at it, blinking again, and then let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sob.

“Red made it?”

“Maria made sure of it,” Natasha said with a hint of a smile, though her voice was still breaking. “Said she’d have murdered her entire team if they left him behind. Apparently you muttered its name after they sedated you.”

Your throat burned. Everything hurt. But Natasha’s presence eased something inside of you that had been coiled tight for years. She looked at you like she was scared you’d disappear if she blinked. And you looked at her like she was the first warmth you’d felt in forever.

You reached for her hand, slowly, shakily. She took it before your fingers even fully stretched toward her.

“You waited,” you said softly.

“I would’ve waited forever,” Natasha whispered back.

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t heavy anymore. It was full — of all the words you didn’t need to say, of the pain that was finally beginning to thaw, of the bond between you that had never broken, even after everything.

Even after all this time.

You closed your eyes again, not to sleep — just to rest. Just to breathe. Just to be.

With her hand in yours and Red by your side, for the first time in a long time… you believed everything might be okay.

----

TAGLIST: @womenarehotsstuff @seventeen-x @ctrlaltedits @ciaoooooo111 @unexpected-character @redroomgraduate @natsaffection @cheekysnake @viosblog112 @riyaexee @lilyeyama @idontliketoread2127 @ima-gi--na-tion @sunny-poe @artemisarroxvolkov @hotcocoandonuts @scarletsstarlets @splatashaswife

[hirukochan]

Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut

Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.

Severus and his sunshine

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

warnings: Smut, loss of virginity

Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle. 

It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!

“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.

“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.

You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink. 

Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour. 

One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.

This you can’t seem to figure out. 

He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war. 

Emotions are not Severus’ thing.

His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.

He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.

You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready. 

“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”

“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie. 

Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.

But not in a bad way.

He looks good. 

Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.

His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.

So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend. 

You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.

Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.

Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.

You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.

You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work. 

You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.

Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.

During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.

You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.

“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.

“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.

“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”

“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint. 

“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.

“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.

“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.

Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you. 

“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-

“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.

“As I said - I am here with someone.”

“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”

“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.

That’s right.

Severus is different.

He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.

“Let’s leave, Sev.” 

“Come on, gorgeous!”

“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”

“Sev.”

“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

“She does not need you for that-”

“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that. 

The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!

Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.

“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.

“Mh.”

“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”

“Drop it.”

“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”

“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”

“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”

“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.

“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”

“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.

“He made you cry!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean. 

Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.

“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.

“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”

“I thought you’re tired.”

“Say it.”

“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.

“You sound like a spoiled child.”

“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”

“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.

“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad. 

“Black’s a bastard-”

“This is Warren all over again!”

“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.

“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”

“I-”

“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it. 

You have always been Severus’ safespace. 

He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting. 

Why can’t he tell you this?

Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod. 

You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.

You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.

“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”

“Sunshine-”

“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings. 

Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver. 

“I love you.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely. 

Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.

“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. 

You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner... 

And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-

“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I thought you love Lily.”

“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”

Severus loves you.

Has loved you for years.

Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.

Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.

Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips. 

As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him. 

You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.

Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.

Everything is good.

“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you. 

He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.

“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.

He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?

“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.

“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.

Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.

The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.

“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.

“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”

“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here…”

“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.

“Warren-?”

“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.

“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.

“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”

“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”

“Me?”

“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”

“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.

“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile. 

He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.

You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.

“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.

“Severus-”

“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.

“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”

“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.

“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”

“It will.”

“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.

“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you. 

You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.

You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.

“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.

“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.

He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.

“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.

Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.

He loves you.

You still can’t believe it. 

“Sev!”

“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.

“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans. 

“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.

“Sunshine-”

“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.

“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.

When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.

But he’ll never lose you.

You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time I will not-”

“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”

“Sun-”

“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”

The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.

“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind. 

Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.

“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.

Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long. 

It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure. 

Severus is not good with words.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.

“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.

To you he is worth it.

He always was and will always be.

You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.

“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.

He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.

“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”

“Sev-”

“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder. 

You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.

Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.

“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.

“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.

“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.

“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”

“Hmm…very metal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you get it then?”

“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.

“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”

“Idiot.” You giggle.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Cum inside me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.

His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Severus!”

“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”

“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises. 

Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.

Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.

You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.

Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”

“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.

“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow. 

“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”

“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw. 

So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.

“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”

You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you. 

You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.

You send an owl to Dumbledore.

You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.

Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.

“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”

“Together?”

“Together. I love you, Severus.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

[fushiguruuzzzz]

+ CHAPTER ONE // DON’T CRY OVER SPILLED COFFEE 

series mlist 

Tags — cursing, Toge embarrasses himself (again) Words — 1.2k

After being endlessly berated and smacked over the head with a rolled up newspaper, your friends were forced to leave. You were left alone, standing idly by the kitchen entrance as you waited for any reason to do otherwise. It was a Tuesday afternoon, business was as slow as it could get. The snowfall didn’t do much to help either, halting the usual student company that travelled by foot. You could count the amount of people inside on one hand, which you figured you could actually resort to doing once your boredom reached its peak. 

In the midst of your blank staring at the wall, the sound of the bell above the door rang. You were snapped out of your daze, clearing your bleary vision with a few short blinks before you could force your feet to move. You took your time striding across the tile floor, cluttered with tables and booths alike. 

Your gaze landed on a group of people settling into seats near the furthest window. A nearly empty diner, and they chose the most inconvenient place to sit. That seemed to be how this day was going, with every order lost in translation and the lack of self control had by your pink haired friend. 

“Hi there,” you greeted, a honey-sweet smile spreading across your face as you addressed your peers. “Can I get you guys anything to drink?” 

It took the break in chatter, the way they all looked inward to their own preferences, for you to really notice who was sitting before you. The green haired girl with a constant look of disdain on her face—you shared a class with her. Accompanying her was a timid boy with black hair and… a panda?, whom you didn’t recognize. And then there was the last one. The platinum blond, violet eyed boy who you’d seen before, and not exactly in a manner you’d consider a good first impression. All you knew of him was that he needed to work on two things: hiding his staring, and walking straight. Maybe then he wouldn’t end up sprawled out starfish position on the sidewalk because you’d made eye contact. 

The corners of your lips pulled up just a little further, something he caught. They all seemed to, based on the amused glances shared and met by annoyed, possibly embarrassed ones from him. 

“Coffee, please,” said the intimidating woman in the corner, unable to hide her smirk as she looked between you and Toge. 

You nodded in acknowledgment, glancing to the other three. 

“Pepsi,” the panda added, voice low and booming. 

A smaller, more boyish voice came next, much easier on the ears than the former. “Just water, please.” 

You looked to the last boy, the one you’d been mentally referring to as ‘cockroach’ as of late. He cleared his throat. “I uh… I’ll have coffee too. Thanks.” 

“Got it,” you said, turning on your heels and walking to the kitchen without a second thought. Realistically, it was to suppress the chuckle bubbling in your throat. Could he be any more awkward? He seemed friendly enough from third person, but the moment he looked you in the eye it was like something flipped. Probably the slip. 

Emerging from the large double doors that lead to the back, you balanced your strategically placed array of drinks on a tray as you walked to the back corner of the diner. Their conversation halted, falling more silent as they gratefully took the beverages from your offering hands. Things got somewhat uncomfortable once they’d received their orders, the unspoken memories of Toge’s clumsiness hanging in the air. You shuffled away silently, retreating to the back once again. The only thing you could do now was wait for Miwa to clock in and hope for a snippet of conversation before she was pulled away by business, and you by the homework awaiting you in your apartment. 

“That’s her!” Panda grinned, speaking so loud that Toge was sure you could hear him from across the building. 

“I think he saw that,” Maki deadpanned. “Did you see his face? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Toge so awkward.”

“I wasn’t that awkward,” Toge grumbled in response. “I don’t even know her, so why would I be so affected?” 

He lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, resisting the urge to wince. He wasn’t the biggest fan of it, but his mind had drawn a blank when he saw you and he spat out the first thing that came to mind. Truth be told, he was affected. Very much so. But he wouldn’t admit that, of course not. 

“Look! It’s yn!” Panda feigned a gasp, pointing behind Toge. Panda, being the socially unaware animal he was, had read your name tag and decided it was perfectly acceptable to refer to you by your first name. 

Toge whipped his head around, so caught off guard that he lost his grip on the mug in hand. Not only was the space behind him lacking you, he was now lacking his drink, as it was instead rapidly spilling all over the table and his lap. The now lukewarm drink bled into his pants, and he’d never been so grateful to be wearing black. 

“Shit!” he placed a hand over his mouth, grumbling under his breath as he tried (and failed) to stop the mess with a few napkins sitting to his left. Yuta gasped from beside him, recoiling away but panicking, trying to help. Panda and Maki did nothing of the sort, relishing in his humiliation and giggling into their palms. 

“It’s not hot. It’s fine,” he sighed under his breath, shooting Yuta a thankful glance. He could feel his face heating up, glancing around the diner to see if anyone had witnessed his fumble. As if the universe was working against him, you came into view. You had a bag over your shoulder, it was apparent you’d clocked out, and he almost thought he was safe. Almost, until you caught sight of him. 

You were immediately concerned, amusement only lingering in the back of your mind as you rushed over. “Woah, hey, are you okay? Was that hot? W-“ you were silenced by a small shake of his head, though he avoided your eyes as if you were Medusa. You let out a breath of relief at that, shoulder deflating ever so slightly. “Okay, that’s good. I just clocked out, but I can get you some paper towels if you’d like? I mean, it seems like the cup was full when it spilled…” you winced, glancing down at the creamy brown puddle. 

“That would be great! He’d appreciate it,” Panda cut in, shooting you what was meant to be a reassuring grin. 

When you left, Toge had gained and lost many things. He had your name, your attention, some paper towels, wet pants, and no dignity. You had homework, a wad of cash in your pocket, a smile, and the funny memory of the flustered boy in the back of your mind. Maybe work wasn’t all boring after all. 

Yes, they indeed chose that diner because of the cockroach incident

Yn was lwk giggling to herself on the way home

They started tallying the amount of times kcp (Kurt Cobain Painters) have been banned from the diner on a chalkboard in yn and Nobara’s apartment. It’s nearly full.

Their manager is never around so they just come back 😭😭

There’s like four workers total at that damn diner and its yn, Miwa, and other randoms

Save them

I’m writing this on the same day as I released chapter zero so that I have a break… (I did in fact not have a break. The next chapter is queued.) I have like four final projects in the works rn someone kill me I hate it here 💔💔 sigh camp counsellor kuroo has double the likes of this damn series after a few days not complaining tho I love kuroo 🤤

Taglist — 34/50 (inaccurate, masterlist has correct #)

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @princesa14 @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @azinniya @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @hqnge @lloversss @h1ddenverse @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @strxwberryfetish @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie

— reminder to make sure your tag setting are working!! :)

[grimoirguestbook]

Book of Bill Website Codes

(Organized by category with notes)

Here's my list of inputs that work on the website :)

Hopefully the read more works like I think it does and I don't accidentally spoil anybody

That being said by clicking read more you will see All of the codes I have found so far

Please be mindful and try not to spoil anybody else with this information. So please be careful if reblogging

I got everything I have collected/found on here, it's a bit messy right now but After I take a small break I'll reorganize and add notes but for now everything's on here, please so check out the posts linked in the log as once I lost all leads I looked to their post for other inputs :)

Also feel free to put any you know of that Aren't on here in the replies I'm sure there's some missing

I will be updating as I find more so check back in if you can! :)

Thank you!

They'll be categorized by

Neat Tv text- Nothing special the tv just gets some text to it

Tab pages-brings you to another tab/website

Audio/video- Audio/video clip plays

Readables- A picture will pop up on screen that you can read

Printables- You can print them :D!

Other- Hard to categorize

Note:

If an * is next to a name that means that you can get different results for the same prompt

(Any personal notes will be in parenthesis)

-> An arrow means that the Passwords are found in the previous page

ex- Page with code that translates to "dork"-> Dork

Slashes/mean/that/any/of/the/prompts/listed/will/take/you/to/the/same/page

Blue text with an underline is a link! Haha! would you look at that! it works!

Will Keep this updated as I find more and will Note the logs at the end of this post

?????

For the mason page anagrams I know WHO they are I just don't know WHAT to do with them, i know it says cryptogram codex at the bottom i think i have to do something with the anagram results but I'm unsure what that is. Stanford Pines Stanlie Pines Gideon Charles Gleeful Preston Northwest Pacifica Elisa Northwest

Notes to Dipper Prompt: (Unsure why- Maybe going to Blind eye page and blurring it but changes from dipper being told to stare at the sun to "I THINK ITS WORKING! STARE HARDER! HARDER!" and the page looking burnt I Think it has to do with how many input codes you enter, It now says "you've almost solved it" and is even more burnt than before, it is now full black)

Neat Tv text-

Pines

Blendin

*Triangle

Axolotl

Ducktective

Book of Bill

TJ Eckleburg (Great Gatsby)

Nothing

Something

*Ciphertology

Deer Teeth

Scalene

Scrimbles

No

Fortnite/skibidi/ohio/rizz/crypto/elon/gyatt/Doge

Life

Death

Portal

Question

Answer

Euclid

*Well Well Well Being

Reality

The Universe

Journal 1

Journal 2

Journal 3

Theyll see/They'll all see/I see

Filbrick

Disney/Disneyland/Mickey Mouse

CIA/FBI/NSA

333 Sundapple Lane Cozy Creek IL 60714-94611

Season 3

Season 2

Season 1

Caryn

Euclydia

Skeleton

Who are you

Burnside

Family matters

When will I die

Multilevel mark/caesaratbashvigenere

Scientology

Easter egg

Sevral times

oh yes they both

Am i Blanchin

Bye gold

Youre insane

History

Hologram

Scalene

Euclid

Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Text Chain (You get questions who's answer is another password)

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> 333 sundapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611-> MutliLevel mark->emmaline butternubbins->Dispense my treat

What i thought it was (with answer sources):

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Answers found in TBOB- Don't Know, NA, Mcguckets dream page, Medieval page, Anti-Cipher Section- tonic page, Anti Cipher Section- Newspaper, Top Secret page, Textbook page- Skin, Dark Ages Page, Anti Cipher Section-Epilogue, A winter break- footprints page, Book of Bill Cover options page, Never trust a wizard page, Have you dreamed this fellow ad (references informercial in show)

Tab pages-

Abuelita

Dippy Fresh

Alex Hirsch/Alex/Hirsch

*Stan/Stanley (his outfit in ebay searches plus a READABLE with SICK music mind you-Check readable section for more info)

Grunkle Stan

*Gideon (second option unlocked after fully "mableizing" the room)

Waddles

Mcgucket/ Old man McGucket/Fiddleford

Bill/Cipher/LLIB/LLIBREHPIC

Bill Cipher/Rehpic

Zyler (Goes to same place as Craz)

Craz (Goes to same place as Zyler)

Toby Determined

Gravity Falls

Mystery Shack

Not a phase

Blanchin

Peak

Cray Cray

Fixinit1

Meow

Fuck alex/Fuck you alex

Globnar

Monster

Audio/video-

Babba/Discogirl

*Gideon (unlocked after fully "mabelizing" the room)

Tad Strange

Pinata (DEFINATELY WORTH WATCHING)

Vallis Cineris (Found on wall when lightning strikes)

Hey Nerd

Weird (Love him)

Spookemups/Spooky/Scary

That's just a/Theory/Gametheory/Matpat (<3)

One Eyed King-> Naitsuaf (Morse Code) ( early years page)

Forget the past

Im still on your mind

Dorito/Nacho

Just fit in

Rubberhose

Love/Boyfriend

Hectoring

Conspiracy

God/Frillium/Help me

Burned inside

Kook

Kubrick

Small/audio log/music (nothing showed up at first, turned off tv and strange audio played, needs to be reversed)

L is real 2401 (soos my boy)

Readables-

Mason (Dippers real name)

*Dipper (personal notes in ???- keep opening the card to get different results)

Pacifica-> PlatinumPaz

Ford/Standford/Sixer

Wendy

Robbie (def worth a look IMO)

Soos-> Pinata

Cursed (Translated from candle in background)

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Blind Eye->Theyll see (Will blur if clicked on, cannot un-blur, may change dipper?)

Weirdmageddon

Lies

Sorry

Booberry (Decoded from popsicle stick)

Even his lies are lies (Front paper)

Tantrum ( code on Bills Mugshot page)

Suck it Merlin

Shave your Grandma (leads to dippy fresh page)

Baby Bill/baby/lalalalala/daddy/mommy

Owl Trowel

Hotxolotl->Seven eyes-> r34lity

Love ya bro

Fuck/Shit/Fuckyou/bitch/slut/sex

Baaaa-> Black Sheep

naitsuaf (click are you ready-> Sign "pleasure doing business with you -candle light turns blue- OR be a coward (losing sound effect plays)

oroborous-> Frillium

Glass sand beach

math/trigonometry/

horror/creepypasta

destruction is a form of creation

unreality

you can't kill an idea

virus

Occurremusiterum

*Stan (click multiple times to get-once there click "how he beat me several times)

Card

Theraprism

Dionarap->stod eht tcennoc

Printables-

Tyrone/Clone/Paperjam

Curse Wittebane (translates runes on page about witches)

Paper is just book skin ( BE WARNED: automatically downloads a photoshop file and crashses the cite)

Irregular (has code on it)

Divorce/breakup

Other-

Mabel (You get fun stickers and a popping sound :) )

*Giffany ( You put her name in multiple times and it forcibly downloads pictures of her and a text document to your computer, scared me a little Not gonna lie here)

Kings of New Jersey (downloads "secret code" font)

cryptogram codex (downloads cryptogram fonts)

dispense my treat-> Kook (downloads a bunch of cool wallpapers)

Log:

One hour after posting: Added 17 new words

Found by me: Booberry, Mountain Dont, Xgqrthx, titans blood, lyre liar, haralds ramblings, union made

Accidentally found by looking at a post: Sorry

Gifted by replier (Thank you!): MATPAT, yes, no, Fortnite, life, death, portal, question, answer

30 minutes after last update: 9 Words added

Found by me: Theraprism, 29121239168518, Grebley Hemberdreck, Rat, 3466554, Tinsel Snake, Torture Mentally, Fordtramarine, Gun (shocked that worked It was a joke- "bill cipher has A GUN")

Like THREEEEEEE ish hours later?

Found by me: one eyed king, well well well being, shave your grandma, paper is just book skin, even his lies are lies, forget the past, irregular, euclid, tantrum, suck it merlin

Like 12 hours later

Found by me: Reality, Baby Bill, Reality, The universe, Giffany (why is it two Fs, Blarg) They'll see, I'm still on your mind, Journal 1, Journal 2, Journal 3

Gifted to me by a replier (Thank you!): Owl Trowel

Idk- Later

Found by me: hotxolotl, lova ya bro, kings of new jersey, fuck, just fit in

Found on twitter(JasonRitter): Dorito, Blanchin'

Gifted to me by Replier(Thank you!): Gideon's option knowledge

Even MORE later:

Me: Seven eyes, r34ality, filbrick, disney, skibidy, rizz, ohio, love, cia, fbi, rubberhose, 333 sundapple lane cozy creek il 60714-94611, bahhhh, black sheep, naitsuaf, oroborous,theyll see, theyll all see Frillium, occuremusiterum (some of these i gave myself because i was really close but just missed a small detail/spelling)

Taken from here and Here Because I got stumped: Season 3, Season2 , Season 1, Glass shard beach, caryn, Euclydia, Peak, Theory, Cray Cray, Help me, mickey mouse, hectoring, divorce, breakup, skeleton, math, history, monster, gyatt, who are you, fixinit1, conspiracy, riddle, cryptogram codex, horror, creepypasta, trigonometry, god, boyfriend,baby, lalalalala, scary, trigonometry,just blendin, morality, burnside, family matters, when will i die, elon, multilevel mark, goodnight sally,paper jam, tourist trap,the duchess approves,shape, scientology, meow, nacho, crypto,sevral times,easter egg, oh yes they both, daddy, mommy, burned inside, destruction is a form of creation, i see, unreality, you can't kill an idea, am i blanchin, fuck alex, fuck you alex, fuck you, shit, bye gold, nsa, globnar,disneyland,kook, kuibrick,virus,that's just a, you're insane

Next day

Found online: Dionarap, stod eht tcennoc, dispense my treat

[baezen]

fatal attraction | r.r [dark]

pairing: robert reynolds [sentry] x f!reader word count: 3650 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], sex pollen, dark themes, violence/abuse, non con/dub-con, forced penetration, degradation, multiple orgasms/orgasm denial, biting, choking, knife play/blood, spanking/slapping,

summary: sex pollen, sex pollen, sex pollen. aka: in which you've been dosed

oneshot | masterlist

The scraping of metal against concrete alerts you to a new presence. Your strength has been zapped, barely able to lift your head off the small cot you’ve been lying in for days, weeks even. You lost track of how long you’ve been held captive. The minimal light you did see was from the overhead fluorescents as guards came by to check on you.

Food was scarce. They fed you minimally, knowing if you were well fed and hydrated the chance of you fighting back would increase. So they’d kept you borderline starved, dehydrated to the point your lips were cracked and your head throbbed. Any time they brought down water, it was only a small plastic cupful, never enough to satiate. Never enough to keep you going, but enough that it kept your body functioning.

Even when you asked for more, begged and pleaded with whoever had the job of giving you more water, they never followed through. Agreeing just to shut you up, the disappearing for god knows how long. 

The guard spoke lowly in a language you couldn’t translate. Whether it was because it was a language you didn’t understand, or because you were too tired to put in the effort to try harder, you weren’t sure. Judging by the harsh tone exchanged by the men stationed outside your room, it wasn’t good.

You were desperately holding out hope that the team would find you. That they’d bust through the compound wrecking all kinds of havoc. Every loud bang had you hoping that it was them, that they’d been able to track your location to its last known point.

The thick concrete walls stopped you from being able to use your powers. If you had more energy, more water, you knew you’d be able to reach out to someone. Bucky hated whenever you communicated with your powers, years of mind control was triggering whenever you spoke inside his head. He was out. Yelena also didn’t like it, the slightly older woman finding it creepy. Though you knew if it really came down to it, she’d get over it. She was a maybe. 

Alexei found it thrilling, often more intrigued by your voice being in his head. He got too distracted by the trick, going off on a tangent about how cool and different your abilities were. He was also out.

Ava was your best bet, but that was if you could penetrate the fortress you were held in. You knew it was more than concrete, something stronger that stopped your abilities from working at a distance or even up close.

You’d tried your first day in the cell. Trying to manipulate one of your guards into leading you outside, but he’d just grinned and slammed the door of your cell. Your cage. It had thrown you for a loop that he hadn’t been able to fall for your tricks. The one thing you could always count on was your ability to convince people to do something you wanted them to. Your mind was a weapon, and your captors knew exactly how to weaken you. Knew exactly how to make you doubt your abilities.

You hadn’t been part of the Thunderbolts for long, but the time you had spent with them had been interesting. This mission, the one where you’d been incapacitated and taken hostage, was up there as one of the worst missions. Most of them were decent, where you actually had enough intel and could subdue the intended culprits. Gone are the fucking days, though. 

You wished this mission had been like those – quick and easy, and a hell of a lot cleaner. 

There’s a whirring overhead, the small fan on the roof or your cell humming to life. You watch it spin, your eyes used to the darkness by now. The smell hits you first, a scent unfamiliar to you but you’re too tired to care. Too tired to do anything but continue to breathe in whatever the fuck they’re feeding into your cell. Too tired to try and hold your breath for fear of what’s to come.

At this point in time, whatever they had planned was only going to make you wish you were dead. For now, all you could do was breathe and hope for the easy way out.

It starts as a warmth to your skin. A low and slow heat that tickles your cheeks before bursting to life in your chest. The warmth coursed throughout your entirety, blossoming further down in your abdomen. 

The ache felt never ending.

The deep seated desire was lodged inside you and growing fervently. Bubbling just below the surface, desperate to be released.

You’d never felt like this before. Whatever you’d been dosed with coursed through your veins, causing you to writhe on the bed trying to placate the feeling. Urging it to subside, to give you any kind of reprieve. 

Every time you rubbed your thighs together the sensation amplified, sending you into a frenzy. It felt so good, but it wasn’t helping. It was only amplifying the sensation. You felt like your body was in overdrive and nothing was helping.

Your pulse raced, pounding in your ears. You panted, hands fisting the thin mattress on the cot as you forced your legs apart, fighting against whatever was in your system.

“Fighting only makes it worse.”

The voice was eerie, distant. You couldn’t tell if the person it belonged to was in your cell with you, or if it had come through the speakers on the wall. 

You’re gasping for breath as desire flows throughout your body. The voice is right, though. Fighting it only makes it worse, but attempting to soothe the ache just heightens everything you feel. You’re in a bind and not in a good way. 

Your eyes fly open as you feel a hand against your face, fingers stroking down your skin before they wrap around your neck. Your own hands fly to their wrist, trying to pry the fingers free. All it makes them do is squeeze tighter as their other hand forces your legs apart.

You gasp, unable to speak as your oxygen is slowly cut off. The person cups your sex over your tactical gear, roughly groping you, but the whole body ache you’re experiencing lessens slightly. Instead of a protest, your body reacts graciously, hips bucking against the person’s hand.

“I knew that was what you needed,” the voice taunts and lessens their grip on your neck. You gasp heavily, drawing breath into your lungs as the dizziness dissipates from your mind.

 It allows you a moment of clarity. The person is a man, he’s real, and he’s touching you. You want him to stop, want him to leave. You don’t know him, you don’t want him. But it feels so good. The ache is still there with a vengeance, but now you know how to soothe it. You can take care of yourself, right?

Wrong. 

The hand that was around your neck connects with your cheek, a loud slap echoing around the concreted cell.

“Fuck you,” you spit vehemently, launching yourself to your feet and taking a fighting stance. 

If you were in your right mind, you’d have seen his hand reach out. Feel it wrap around your ankle. You’re shoved up against the wall, the cot creaking as he climbs up onto it and uses his body weight to keep you pinned.

A whimper falls past your lips, his hand roughly gripping your face. You swear you can see a smirk on his face as he presses his body against yours, rolling his hips so you can feel just how aroused he is. You spit at him, disgusted, but your hands are useless. Your body is betraying your mind, so desperate for a release you refuse to give to this man. 

You force yourself to fight, to spit in his face and throw a punch. It takes all of your strength, but you do it. You fail to see the punch he throws back, connecting with your jaw. 

“Stupid whore,” he spits and you swear you can hear a smile in his voice. “It’s going to be fun breaking you in.”

You stagger along the wall, knowing this is the fight of your life, but your limbs are heavy and desire is calling to you like a traitorous bitch. You feel him grab your hair, slamming you into the concrete with a force that has you reeling. 

You feel sluggish, like you’re moving in slow motion. You know that’s not the case. You know it’s whatever is coursing through your veins, some kind of virus. If you had more of your wits about you, you’d know it wasn’t a virus. No virus makes you wildly, insatiably horny. 

Your fingers scrape against concrete desperately, trying to grab a hold of something. Anything. A scream is caught in your throat as he drags your face along the wall, skin catching against the raised, jagged pieces that overhang the otherwise smooth wall. 

He laughs as you flail, tripping over your own feet as he throws you back down onto the cot. You barely have time to recover as he smacks you once more, this time on the other cheek. He tsk’s, gripping your hands in one of his and pinning them above your head. 

“I promise you’re going to enjoy this, kitten.” 

His lips brush over your ear and you pull it back before headbutting him as hard as you can, his legs either side of yours, keeping them pinned. 

He chuckles, your head having only connected with his jaw with nowhere near enough force to injure. At this point, you’re only hurting yourself. 

You feel the cold sting of metal pierce your stomach, the sharp point likely drawing blood as it slices through your shirt. The material is tight against your skin and you scream as it continues to dig into your stomach. It doesn’t feel deep enough to disembowel you, but it’s still not pleasant. The knife pierces and drags through your skin, moving higher, the blade slicing through your bra, nipping at your neck as the last of your shirt is sliced open.

You whimper as he bites the handle of the knife, his hand roughly groping your breasts as he hums, his hand gliding through the blood slickening your skin. It makes your stomach churn, but as he tweaks your nipples, you fail to care. Arching into his touch despite desperately not wanting to.

A pleased gasp falls past your lips and he chuckles once again, gripping the knife and shuffling back so he can cut your pants off you. He pins your knees to the cot, the blade pressing into the flesh over your pubic bone. You hiss as it pierces the skin and he drags it down, cutting away your tactical pants while narrowly missing your sex. 

Still, your body is on fire, aroused by even the possibility of that happening. Of his blade knicking your most delicate flesh. You moan loudly, unabashedly. It only seems to spur him on even more.

He groans appreciatively, maneuvering you so he can pull your clothes off. Leaving your pants bunched at your ankles, but ridding you of your shirt completely. As he either forgets to pin your hands down, or skips over it completely, you take the chance to claw at him. Raking your nails down his face.

His fist connects with your face again. “Get me some handcuffs for this slut,” he growls as you cradle your face, continuing to fight him off as best as you can. It’s clear he has you at a disadvantage, your body continuing to crave a release it seems will be by his hand. Or his cock.

Metal clangs as he catches the restraints, cuffing one hand to the metal frame of the cot before forcing your other into it as well. You buck your hips, desperate to try and continue to fight. Desperate, desperate, desperate.

You’re dripping with arousal. Blood and sweat and grime coat your skin. The ache flowing through your body is crippling. You feel exhausted, beaten and bruised. You know this is only going to get worse, but you’re not in any position to do anything about it. You can’t fight anymore, so you submit.

He drags his fingers through your slickened folds, spreading your lips and robbing his fingers over your swollen clit. You whimper and buck your hips, a desperate “no, please,” falling past your lips.

“I’m only trying to help,” he says condescendingly. “You want me to help, I know you do. I can smell your arousal.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, your whimper betraying you as you feel the knife pressed against the underside of your breast.

He tuts disapprovingly. “You know you want this. Be a good girl and take it.”

He moves the knife to rest against the base of your throat, your pulse spiking and body stilling in response. He seems to like that, you think. Your stomach churns as his hand returns between your legs.

“Stop,” you plead but it’s futile.

He ignores you, slipping two fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan lowly in response, trying to fight the pleasure that relieves the painful ache. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but you know it’s pointless. You know he’s going to take what he wants, and you try to find a happy place to disappear to. You try to steel your mind to block out the assault that’s taking place, but your mind isn’t the weapon it usually is. The pleasure coursing through you renders you powerless to his ministrations. The way his fingers fuck into you, grazing over that spot inside you that has you writhing and gasping. 

“You can cum, kitten,” he goads you. Your body is convulsing in response, pleasure bursting through you and relieving the pain you'd been feeling. 

You moan heartily, feeling it rip through your chest and burst from your lips. 

The ache is still there, still heavy on your soul. A constant reminder that he did this to you, that he’s the one bringing you pleasure despite the hell you’re in.

He adds a third finger, continuing to fuck into you. Stretching you, bringing you over the edge a second time with no chance of protest before your moans were tearing their way from your throat yet again.

You panted heavily, nipples painfully hard. With each breath the tip of the knife dug into your skin a little bit more, but you felt wild. Overwhelmed. Your body was on fire and he was the extinguisher. He was also the ignition source, the reason you were even in this predicament at all. 

“There she is, my complacent little whore,” he praises, stroking your face appreciatively. “Shame what happened to your face.” He tuts disapprovingly, gripping your jaw as he turns your head from side to side. 

You grit your teeth, anger flaring that quickly subsides as he readjusts his hold on the knife. The blade pierced your neck a little more, a little deeper. It’s close to your windpipe, any deeper and you know it’s game over. You know it’s a slow, painful death as you choke on your own blood.

It’s smarter not to fight. 

It’s smarter to just take whatever he gives you next.

“Please,” you whimper. “It hurts so much.”

He’s slowly rubbing your clit, alternating between rolling his fingers over your sensitive, swollen bundle of nerves and slipping his fingers back inside your needy little cunt.

The pleasure starts to build again, the ache turning into something more. Something feral. Primal. 

You whimper as he withdraws his fingers, the blade no longer pressed against your neck. You’re about to complain, about to beg, but you hear the sound of his zipper being tugged down. You feel the bed jostle as you assume he’s removing his pants. His weight no longer pins your legs to the bed and you take the chance to pull your knees to your chest before kicking out at him, hearing him grunt as he lands heavily on his back on the cold concrete floor. The knife clinks as it falls from his hand, disappearing into the darkness.

“I’ll fuck the fight right out of you, whore,” he snarls, his hands gripping your ankles before he straddles your legs again. “You start to cum, I stop. Let the pollen drive you fucking insane. You’re just a little toy for me to play with. I tried to help you, I did. You won’t submit to me and let me take it? I’ll force my way into your needy little cunt. I’ll fuck you with my knife and gut you from the inside out. Is that what you want, hm?”

You shudder, swallowing hard as arousal pools between your legs again. The ache is back with a vengeance, but his words start to sink in.

Pollen. That’s what you’ve been dosed with. That’s what came in through the vents. No wonder you’re wild with desire. Feral with it.

He slides his hand up your torso, spearing your blood around your body. Dipping his fingers into the wounds he’s caused you, making you cry out. His laughter is wicked, fingers sliding around your neck and squeezing as you clamp your legs shut, refusing to give him access. He grunts, wedging his knee between your thighs. Spanking your pussy as he forces your legs open. 

“You’re going to take my cock,” he growls and you feel your head spinning once again. His grip on your neck tight, making it harder to draw breath. Your heart is hammering away in your chest, hips bucking as you feel him pinch your clit harshly.

“Please don’t, please don’t.”

It’s useless. You don’t even know why you tried. You’d only wasted valuable breath. 

You pull at the handcuffs, trying to twist your body away from him, but he’s everywhere. The tip of his cock spreads you open and he’s seated inside you with one harsh thrust. You’re seeing stars, whimpering and struggling and gasping for breath. Praying to whatever God might be listening that someone will come and save you, because it’s obvious you can’t save yourself.

He’s thick and heavy and stretching your needy cunt more than his fingers ever could. Reaching places inside you that have you trying to blink spots from your vision. And he takes you with force, without a care for how you’re feeling. You deserve it, after all. You’re just a warm, wet hole for him to use, just like he told you.

You feel yourself fading, feel yourself struggling to hold onto reality, but it seems as though he wants you conscious. Wants you aware of everything he’s doing to you, because his hand is gone from your throat and your breathing is jagged. It hurts with each inhale, unable to find solace. Unable to find any good with this situation.

Until your body starts to betray you again. Your hips buck as your walls clamp down around his thick cock.

“You greedy little bitch,” he tuts, slipping from your sopping cunt with a sickening squelch. You hear his hand moving against his cock, leaning back in his knees as he keeps your legs open. “You lost the right to cum when you kicked me in the chest.”

You whimper despite your best efforts. Hips bucking up into nothing, desperate for release.

“Please, please,” you beg. “I’ll be good. I can be good. Please, oh fuck. Please.”

You sound desperate. You don’t recognise yourself. You almost cry in frustration, the pleasure subsiding and turning into that god awful ache that won’t go away.

“That’s it, beg like the greedy little cockslut I know you are,” he says. Praises. “Tell me how badly you need my cock. How badly you need to cum. How good I make you feel.”

You cry out in frustration, a broken sob falling past your lips. “I need your cock so badly. Please, please let me cum on your cock. You make me feel so good. Fuck, make  it stop hurting please. Please, fuck, oh please.”

You feel him at your entrance once again, thrusting into you without warning. Your arms strain as you pull against the handcuffs, metal biting into your wrists. His thrusts are fast and rough, grunting as he seeks his own high. His fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, using you for leverage.

You gasp and moan, body floating. Mind wandering. It feels so good– he feels so good. Taking and taking and taking without a care for you and your own needs. He’s giving you what you asked for. What your body craves, but he’s not going out of his way to make you cum again. That’s all on you.

You feel it building, your toes curling in your boots. Your legs hiking higher up his back, trying to angle him where you need him. Feeling his cock press against your cervix has you seeing stars, has your body reacting before you even realise what’s happening. Your orgasm crashing into you so violently, so desperately. You don’t even feel his thrusts grow sloppy. You don’t hear him telling you he’s “gonna flood this greedy little cunt.” You don’t feel him biting down on your neck, but you feel him push your head to the side. His fingers hooked into your mouth, hand pressed against your cheek as he pins you in place. As he cums without a care in the world for you or how he forced his way into your pussy.

He doesn’t even bother to uncuff you as he slides out of you. Doesn’t care to do anything except leave without so much as a look behind him. He does, however, stop to pick up his knife. 

God forbid he leave you with a fighting chance to escape. 

[vanteguccir]

fluffy blurb cuddling chratt and teasing them by calling them their middle names bernard and owen

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMIDDLE NAMES * CHRATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N loves to tease Chris and Matt by calling them for their middle names.

FEATURING　matt & chris sturniolo x reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The large, plush couch was piled with fluffy blankets and pillows, inviting anyone who entered the room to sink into its comfort. Y/N was already curled up in the middle, her legs tucked beneath her, as she flipped through the options on the streaming service, searching for the perfect movie for the night.

Matt and Chris had just come in from the kitchen, each holding a bowl of popcorn, freshly popped, and still warm. The buttery scent followed them, making Y/N’s mouth water. She looked up from the screen, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she smiled at the two of them.

"There you are." She said, patting the space on either side of her. "I was starting to think you’d gotten lost on the way back."

Chris rolled his eyes playfully, setting one of the bowls on the coffee table before plopping down beside her. He stretched his arm over the back of the couch, pulling her close, his fingers lightly brushing against her shoulder.

"We wouldn’t leave you alone for too long." He teased, his voice warm and affectionate. "Not when we know you’d start the movie without us."

Matt chuckled as he took his place on her other side, his presence immediately radiating warmth. He set the second bowl of popcorn down, then leaned in to press a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"I think she’s the one who’d get lost in all these choices." He joked, nodding toward the TV screen still full of movie titles.

Y/N smirked, feeling the comfort of their bodies pressed against hers.

"Maybe I was just waiting for you two to make a decision." She said, her tone light but laced with affection. "You know, since you always have such strong opinions about movies."

Chris laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest as he held her a little tighter.

"You know what they say about opinions..."

"Everyone’s got one." Matt finished, grinning as he reached for the remote. He leaned back into the cushions, his head resting against the couch as he scrolled through the options. "But tonight, I think we should watch something different. There's a new rom-com, Everyone But You, I think."

Y/N hummed, considering it for a moment. But then she leaned back against Chris’s chest, her hand lazily playing with the hem of his hoodie, and looked up at Matt with a teasing glint in her eye.

"That sounds good, Bernard."

Matt froze for a second, then turned his head slowly to look at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Bernard?" He repeated, his voice full of mock offense. "You’re bringing out the middle names now?"

Chris chuckled beside her, his hand finding its way to her hair, gently playing with a few loose strands.

"Careful, Owen." She quipped, turning her attention to him with a playful smile. "You might be next."

Chris groaned, dropping his head back against the couch dramatically.

"Why did our parents have to pick such old man names?" He complained, though the amusement in his voice was impossible to miss.

Y/N giggled, the sound light and joyful, as she nestled further between them.

"I think they’re cute." She said, her voice softening as she looked between the two of them. "And besides, how else am I supposed to tease you if I don’t use them?"

Matt shook his head, trying to maintain a stern expression, but the corners of his mouth kept twitching upward.

"You’re lucky you’re pretty." He said, finally giving in and leaning in to kiss her lips quickly. "Otherwise, you’d be in big trouble."

"Oh, I’m so scared." Y/N teased, but her voice was full of affection as she leaned into his kiss, her heart swelling with warmth. She loved how easy it was with them, how they could be silly and teasing one moment, and then utterly tender the next.

Chris, not to be outdone, wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer.

"I think you owe us some popcorn for all this teasing." He said, his voice a low murmur in her ear. "Don’t you think, Bernard?"

Matt snorted, but the twinkle in his eye showed that he was fully on board with Chris’s playful demand.

"Definitely, Owen." He agreed, reaching for the bowl on the coffee table and holding it out to Y/N. "You heard the guy. Popcorn, please."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips as she took a handful of popcorn from the bowl. She made a show of popping a piece into her mouth first, savoring it slowly, before holding the bowl out to Chris with a smirk.

"Only because I’m feeling generous."

Chris took the bowl from her with a grin, his fingers brushing against hers for just a moment, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

"You’re too kind." He said, his voice dripping with exaggerated gratitude as he took a handful of popcorn for himself.

Matt leaned over, taking a handful as well before setting the bowl back down.

"And now, to choose the movie." He said, glancing at Y/N.

© vanteguccir

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I doubt I’m the first person to come barging in saying this, but I’m not happy with how Malleus’s consequences played out. Obviously we don’t have a full translation to work with so this should be taken with a massive load of salt, but he’s really getting off with just the temporarily broken horn?

I understand why the writers did it. You can’t take one of the main cast out of the game for an extended period of time lest you impact the gacha money. And the rest of the overblot guys had but a slap on the wrist too so nothing was ever going to happen.

But still, isn’t it too convenient that there just so happens to be a precedent for Sage’s Island to excuse this exact situation because Malleus feels bad? At least the other guys had the argument that their overblots were relatively contained.

But maybe it is a fitting punishment that Malleus lost the usage of the one thing he used as a crutch. That he needs to learn how to use more than brute magical force to handle his problems. I guess I’m just bitter that Malleus always seems to get away with much more than the other characters, and here he seems to be doing it again.

Sorry if this is repetitive.

[You can read my thoughts on the book 7 finale here!]

To be fair, they did say the broken horn would take an estimated 100-200 years to grow back + would require monitoring. In his current state, I believe Malleus isn’t able to use his UM or similar “disaster-level” magic. It seems he can still use the rest of his arsenal of spells?? It looked like he used magic to mass deliver invitations and to help Lilia use his UM for the party. But we’ll have to follow-up to see for ourselves what the true range is, since we didn’t see Malleus use a lot of different spells at the end of book 7.

But yeah, other than that 😅 Seems like all is fine? Malleus is going back to school, Lilia’s still alive and returning to NRC as well, his grandma seems to be handling diplomatic matters + smoothing over foreign relationships, fae fixed the physical damage to buildings, other countries are settling back into their own daily lives, etc. I guess we should’ve expected this, given the medium and the pattern of letting OB boys off easy. It’s all for the sake of keeping the marketable characters present and still lovable. (Though I do want to point out that, because the story ended sort of quickly, Malleus may not have been granted enough time to show us how he's dealing with the aftermath or what other consequences there were. This could be something covered or expanded on in a future update, or perhaps in the manga, light novel, or anime.)

I think that maybe the new lore surrounding Sage's Island could connect with a future update (there's many theories that it could tie with Mickey or Grim), but its placement here is... I don't know, the framing of it reads as very convenient for Malleus. I'm not saying that Malleus shouldn't be forgiven or granted a chance at redemption (he certainly should, especially if we're giving this to the other OB boys). His OB may have been on a far larger scale than the others' were, but that's no reason to deny him or to think that there's 0% chance he can change for the better. What I am saying is that telling us, "This other powerful mage also did an oopsie and wasn't exiled for it, he only got scolded" feels like we're redirecting attention to someone else instead of focusing on Malleus :/ which doesn't sit right with me.

This really is not helped by the narrative bringing up all these additional details which only seem to minimize Malleus's impact on the world. No one died, no major areas were affected (save for Sage's Island), the only injuries sustained were those of some NRC students, the only physical damage sustained was mainly the Diasomnia dormitory (which was easily patched up with fairy magic), Maleficia + the headmasters are handling the press coverage of the event, there's now a group (the Fairy Dream Life Association) that adore Malleus and want to stay in the dream world, etc. I understand that the point of the big fight against Malleus was to prevent him from doing more harm--and it seems like they were successful, so good for them. I also understand that Malleus's absolute power allowed him to control space and time within his briar barrier (so I guess any deaths that would have resulted from people falling asleep while swimming, driving, cooking, etc. didn't happen?). But that feels... again, too convenient, and gives Malleus another "out" of being forced to realize he's done something truly horrible (since apparently no physical harm resulted + what little harm that did happen was easily fixed), that he potentially has blood on his hands. Does he even truly comprehend the emotional and mental turmoil he put his victims through? Maybe not all 20,000 residents, but definitely a non-zero amount of them. I don't pick up any of that based on how he's acting. Malleus doesn’t talk about or acknowledge any of that.

It doesn't even seem like his classmates hold any grudge toward him for what he did??? Even though NRC students are the exact type of people who would do that??? Yeah, Leona and a few others express shock when Crowley says Malleus is coming back to school, but I didn't see a SINGLE person protest or put up a fight or consider not showing up to Malleus's party. In fact, the first years seem oddly excited to be seeing Malleus again after all of that. It weirdly seems like there was more resistance to going to Lilia's farewell party at the beginning of book 7 (because at least there Leona expresses WANTING to leave early) than there was for Malleus's party at the end of book 7. Is this supposed to show us that the NRC students are now so pro-cooperation they don’t mind Malleus being back?? Even though those same dorm leaders were surprised at the meeting where it was announced? It’s also strange that we heard nothing about upset parents, just that parents conferences were held. You’d think there would be significant uproar from a small portion of them??

On top of all that, he also conveniently gets what he OB'd over: Lilia not leaving, not dying, and reenrolling at NRC. Malleus isn't forced to reconcile with that loss, isn't made to confront mortality for longer. It just gets pushed off to a later date. None of the other OBs are magically given what they got mad over to begin with. They had to work to overcome their own issues, but Malleus seemingly doesn't have to (because he no longer has to currently grapple with the distress of Lilia leaving), so it seems unfair that Malleus is the only one that gets it all. This could be something they tackle in like… book 8? Like I’m sure he must have feelings around him killing Lilia—but right now, he can still enjoy a happy ending and doesn’t indicate having any complications around it.

One of Malleus's horns being injured might be a physical symbol of change and may limit his magical powers (no UM, no disaster-level magic), but he's still a powerhouse seeing as he seems to have helped amplify Lilia's UM for the party + sent the invitations to everyone by magic. He can still have his power, I’m NOT saying he should have no magic or that he should be physically harmed further. But if he's to learn to use more than brute strength or magic to resolve his problems, then why not start with words? Words like, "I'm sorry", and "It was my fault", and "I shouldn't have imposed my will on you", etc. And not just to NRC, which happened in canon, but to the world.

If the story won't commit to actually assigning consequences to the world for what Malleus did, at LEAST let him handle the social repercussions of it all. Show us other students being wary around him so he has to earn back their trust instead of it being handed back to him. And why not have Malleus be the one going on TV (after he has recovered, of course) to apologize to the world instead of having his grandma handle it for him? Malleus apologizing just to those in attendance at the party isn't enough, because that insinuates his actions only affected the guests present, when, in reality, his actions scared so many other people and had them intervening. Have him say sorry to S.T.Y.X., to RSA, to all the other countries he endangered. At least do RSA (since Ambrose is also being interviewed), S.T.Y.X. (since they were largely involved in the containment), and Foothill Town residents. I would have liked it if Malleus told us how he is going to make amends. One party's nice and all, but it doesn't tell me what he is going to do in the long term to make things better.

To be clear: To reiterate, I don't want Malleus to be physically harmed or "further punished". What I want is for Malleus to actually understand that everything he did was wrong, acknowledge that he broke the trust of countless people, and actively take steps to learn and to prove to everyone he is worthy of having their trust. I'm disappointed that it seems like Twst skipped these crucial moments in favor of having a rushed happy ending. If there isn't space to do it now in book 7, give us some lines that imply he's got a plan or some ideas in mind for next update or something OTL He has maybe one or two lines tops at the party, and that's it. We really needed more to close off book 7 in a satisfactory way for his arc of learning to accept change.

Here’s to hoping that book 8 (?) can show us the things book 7’s conclusion didn’t deliver on.

[fanartlover1234]

FALLING IN LOVE

Okey guys bear with me, i recently watched Descensants 4 and im obsessed with James fucking Hook, like have you seen tne man and i had an idea where Y/n is Bridgets older sister forced to take up the duty as a future queen even though she doesnt want it and thay includes arranged marrage but she over the time falls for Hook

He really didnt mean to dump bleach all over her in their first year at Merlin academy but somehow as he is a VK it was supposed that he meant to do it.

And ever since that it was war.

And no matter how many times the girl shood him away he only seemed to translate it in his head to ' please annoy me everyday and never let me have peace'

She knew the pirate wasnt the smartest but this was something.

The girl exited her class as she placed the notebook in her bag as she heard a whistle before an all too familiar voice caught her attention from the shadows.

"Oy, princess" he said as he looked at her but she only rolled her eyes and kept walking " we are going somewhere?" He asked trailing behind her.

And thats how most days went, he annoyed her to guts to get a reaction out of her but those few days she was left alone she found herself missing him.

Few days pass and Y/n is in her room, her dark red silk night dress barely reaching above her mid upper thigh reflects in the mirror and she starts thinking it looks like Hooks jacket but quickly shakes the though from her head when she hears a knock on her door.

She goes to open it to find no other then Hook leaning on her door frame before he pushed his way in looking around her room.

It was different from what he expected.

It wasnt all pink and happy and stuffed like bridgets room.

"Sure, come in" the girl said annoyed as she closed her door leaninh against it as she watched Hook turn to her.

Her hair neatly combed amd falling along her back and framing her face, he looked down at her pj and raised used brows.

Y/n shifted to stand straight, it was clear he was at least a head taller then her without her heels.

"What do you want?" She asked crosing her arms over her chest.

"A smile for starters and then maybe" he pulled stalking over her brushing her jaw line with his hook "ill know what i want next"

Y/n pushed his hook away before looking back at the door and pointing " wait how did you, you VKs are not allowed in the part of dorms" she said as she looled back at Hook who smirked steping forward making her step back.

"Well darlin' y'know" her back hit the wal and he placed a hand next to her head and leaning down to meet her eyes " forbbiden is what makes it fun " he said before he held up his hook, her nacklace hanging there.

She had lost it two weeks ago and it was one of crown yules of Wonderland.

Y/n reached for it but hook pulled his hand away, walking to her bed and sitting down.

"Give it to me" she said walking over to him but before she could react he was up and his good hand was around her waist pulling her to her chest as his lips brushed her ear.

"Meet me outside by the big oak tree across headmasters study at this timw tomorrow, then its all yours" he said before kissing her cheeks and leaving her room.

The next day seemed to pass quickly, a bit too quickly for her liking and she found herself sitting on the bed looking in the mirror at her outfit.

Her pink her up in half up do with a black clip, black skirt brushed her upper mid thigh and the oversized t-shirt tugged into the skirt in one corner looked pretty good on her. The black high heels boots finished the look as she decided against her better judgement and sneaked out making her way to the big oak tree.

When she got there Hook was already there leaning against the tree, his signature smirk forming on his lips when he saw her make her way to him.

He pushed off from the tree and went to her.

"Follow me" he said walking past her and into the forest.

She followed him for a while untill she was met with a clear field as she stomped to Hook who sat down in the middle.

The girl squated down annoyed to ask what this was but before ahe could get words over her lips he moved hed head upward.

She looked up, her lips parted when she saw the metior shower above her like she has never seen before, she sat down in shock her eyes never leaving the sky.

"Wow" she mumbled.

"Yeah, wow" Hook spoke as he looked at the girls face, glowing as the stars raced in the sky.

Walking back they had a half pleasant talk as she had Hooks jacket coat on.

They reached her dorm and she was about to take off the jackef but he told her to keep it and left after wishinh her a good night.

She entered as he placed a hand in one of the pockets of the coat and was met with a small cold metal chain brushing her fingers.

She pulled out and her lips turned into a smile as she looked at her necklace while she walked over to her bed.

Hey babes, i was thinking of making this a small story but, have no fear there will be part two for this, but please, repost, comment and like it really helps and feel free to leave requests.

[ryuusei-niu]

I want to talk about Leo and spanish, because I see a lot of "bilingual Leo" that doesn't make much sense.

Soooo, let me start with this: Leo was not born in a country that speaks Spanish. And only his family talked Spanish. Therefore he would know what the language is like.

But let's not forget that he lives in a place where people speak English.

Well, let me explain this theory based on my life:

I'm argentinian but my mother is Brasilian. Since I was little, Portuguese was spoken in my house. Portuguese was my first language because we were moving to Brazil and I spoke fluent Portuguese until I was 6 years old. But then we stayed at Argentina. So, I had a lot of problems because I did understand Spanish, but I had a lot of mispronunciation and I mixed words between Spanish and Portugues. Over time I had to adapt to speaking Spanish full time, almost completely forgetting Portuguese. Nowadays I'm almost 19 and I haven't spoken Portuguese for years, but there are a lot of words that I thought my whole life were Spanish and weren't.

Based on Leo's story, he might be similar to me in this stuff.

Having said this, let me tell you situations that happen to me with Portuguese that I think would happen to Leo with Spanish:

He forgot how to form complete sentences in Spanish. And even when he tries to relearn Spanish, it is difficult for him and he can't speak or write things in Spanish.

He almost completely understands if someone speaks Spanish to him, though. Maybe he would miss some words but he understands a lot reading or hearing.

He has Spanish words that he always thought were English.

"And then we went to the ferretería and... Why are you looking at me like that... I said something in Spanish again, didn't I?" "Yeah, you did."

Piper and Jason got used to it and know the words he always gets confused.

And there are other words that he refuses to say in English, probably the most common ones, just because he likes how it sound at Spanish.

So whenever he needs to talk about it, he asks Jason or Piper to do it for him.

"I want the... Jason, fresa" "Strawberry flavor, please" "Thank u so much, man"

There are a lot of words that sound funny in English because they resemble words in Spanish

"I'm embarrassed." "You're embarazaste?" "...Yes?" "Wow, Frank, what are you going to name the baby?" "I hate you very much."

Mispronunciations everywhere. But it's something that happens some days. But when it happens it is horribly noticeable.

I mean, he does speak English very well. But sometimes...

SOME LETTERS ARE REALLY DIFFICULT TO HIM SOMETIMES.

People bullied him when he started school because he mispronounced some letters. Like R.

(I think he would have the opposite problem than me, since I was pronouncing the r very soft or as a j without meaning to because in some Portuguese words it sounds like that. So I guess he would have a very strong R.)

Sometimes he would get angry with his mother for instilling Spanish in him so much and that's why the kids make fun of him for talk like that.

Now he miss that his mother speak in Spanish to him.

"DIOS MÍO.", "POR DIOS, JASON", "CHIN", "CARAJO", "JESÚS, MARÍA Y TODOS LOS SANTOS".

Sometimes he says a lot of things in Spanish and makes it seem like he knows how to say them but in reality he used the translator.

"is that a Spanish dictionary...?" "*Kick it under the bed* No, of course not, why would I have one? I know Spanish, muy bueno. Mucho."

"It's very plane." "What? It is not a plane, Leo." "Yeah it is? Like, It is not curved, it has no disturbances. Plane surface." "FLAT, LEO." "NO WAY IT IS THAT. THEN WHAT DOES PLANE MEAN?!#@+$-1(?!"

Now he understands why people looked weirdly at him when he said plane.

He also forget words in Spanish and remember them in English. When this happens he stares at the space and feels his whole soul had lost its essence.

'espanish'

As Spanish speaker, it's very difficult to say 'isn't'. #Team It is not.

"Taired. Terid. Teerid. Tarid. Tæ—" "Tired." "That thing."

"you know, the— the thing. El coso. The coso of the cosito of the cosa—" "You forgot in Spanish too, right?" "Shut up."

SONGS. MEXICAN SONGS THAT HIS MOTHER LISTENED BECAUSE HIS GRANDFATHER LISTENED BECAUSE THEM MAKE HIM REMEMBER HIS HOME.

He doesn't know most of this song, he never listen to this song like, wanting to. They were on the radio, or a CD that his mother was playing while working. But he has those songs on his soul and he recognizes most of them. He even knows how to sing them even if he didn't read the lyrics.

(I'm not Mexican, so please I want Mexican people to make a playlist of which songs he would know. Please I need to know)

He sometimes hears Nico speaking in Italian and for a moment he is there processing because he thought it was Spanish.

(also, this whole thing could apply to Nico and Italian).

[enchantedanimal]

All of the QSMP eggs as dragons!

Now for my design notes/headcanons! (There's a lot lol)

- The color pallettes are (for the most part) based off of their parent/parents. In lore terms, l'd imagine that more time they spent around their parents before they hatched, the more their color developed to mimic them. It would usually be used as a survival strategy with their dragon parents, however sometimes their personality overcomes this and they develop their own color.

- Being dragonets, none of them can fly due to their currently underdeveloped wings.

- Tilin's yellow spots would make Quackity think that Wilbur was supposed to be the other parent.

- Tallulah's colors/features are close to that of a duck. It would likely be a coincidence, but it'd be enough to Quackity to feel like the island was mocking him.

- Tallulah's "hair" is feathers. She's the only one with feathers, and it may either be a cause or effect of her being left in the attic (possibly being mistaken to be an egg from a different species and not a dragon, or the coldness of the attic caused feathers to form).

- Tallulah and Tilin have the same colored eyes since Quackity once said that she reminds him of Tilin.

- Chayanne has fins bc he likes doing mlg water bucket clutches and fishing with Missa.

- Chayanne's tail fin, Leonarda's ear, and Richarlyson's wing are ripped in a spot due to loosing a life. Bobby lost one of his after I designed him but one of his horns would be chipped, and forgot Ramón only had one as well so let's just pretend he's got a scar on his left leg lol.

- Its kinda subtle, but Chayanne has protruding bottom canines, similar to my (and many others') Techno design.

- Fun fact that usually in my style I have the neck spines start from the top of the head. Ramon is purposely "bald".

- Ngl I don't have much to say about Trump bc he died so quick (rip) and I never saw much about him; but his hat is too big for his head.

- Bobby is a wyvern bc it's easier to slap everyone with his wings. He also headbutts and slaps ppl with his tail (those hurt more).

- Bobby's colors are less based after his parents, but the orange/blue complementary colors are kinda more of a nod to Jaiden being an artist (which doesn't make a whole lot of sense now idk my brain just defaulted to that), but feel they match his personality as well. Also his scleras (part of eye that's not the iris/pupil) are black unlike the rest who's are normal.

- Leonarda has a tiny mushroom pin on her hat and their back has mushroom-like spots for the hat she always wears.

- People keep saying that Leo somehow looks like Foolish which is funny bc that wasn't even intentional- in fact was worried that she would be one of the only ones who didn't resemble her parents enough. I did try to make her slightly taller but I'm going to guess that it's the jawline lol

- [Edit bc I just thought of it] Leo's wings are bigger bc they've grown faster due to using them more to glide off of Foolish's/Veg's builds

- Dapper is built to be more bipedal than quadrupedal (their dewclaws on their back feet act more like a normal toe for better traction/ stabilization). This makes it easier to grab (or steal) things for their collection. And hold a taser.

- Richarlyson is based after an iguana! thought it would fit well (it's kinda hard to base him off of 5 different people lol)

- Had to go off of a secondhand info + auto translations (I can understand a decent amount of Spanish but have no idea when it comes to Portuguese so this could be off) but think there was something about Richarlyson having a bad leg both in and out of rp, and think maybe Cellbit said something about him having a prosthetic for it and I thought that was so so cool! It's based semi loosely off of a dog hind leg prosthetic and a human running one; probably wouldn't actually be functional but tried to keep the general shape of the leg.

- Richas and his dads cover it in stickers :)

- Juanaflippa's tail and probably the lower half of her front legs (which aren't visible) are semi transparent from Charlie (yellow comes from Mariana), and it shifts around a bit! It looks more like slime than it feels like it. I've been calling her Bananaflippa endearingly

- Gegg intentionally looks like Juanaflippa a bit (but he's way more slimy)

- Gegg's inventory basically consists of him absorbing random things which are sometimes visible (he is so full of avocado toast). He's like Bob from Monsters vs Aliens or smth idk haven't seen that movie in forever.

There some smaller less exciting details and other headcanons I have for them (such as extra accessories they'd have like Tallulah wearing sweaters) but that's about it! Feel free to ask about anything I like talking about them lol

[pannman]

Yandere Vox and Valentino x angel Fem reader who snuck to hell to help Charlie out.

Its been a while since I tried learning Spanish and I used Google translate to help out but I apologize if I got it wrong

Caught on Camera

Cw: toxic behavior, stalking, toxic relationships, suggestiveness

You had felt compelled to do something when the princess of hell pleaded her case to heaven. To think they've been slaughtering hell's citizens this whole time and for the reason of overpopulation.

It all seemed so unfair and the princess seemed to actually be making an impact as you all saw the sinner she was trying to redeem act very selfless. Looking out for his friend and standing up to someone with power over him to protect others. Yet the seraphim concluded that there was no helping him.

You couldn't believe the events you witness so you decided that enough was enough and you packed your bags and took a portal to hell. (Without telling anyone of course). When you arrived you noticed that it was like earth but worse. Dirty with crime in every corner.

You tried not to be judgemental. You didn't like how the angels acted so superior towards the princess and her people so you wanted to be as open minded as you could. You tried to find some kind of directions so you make your way to the hotel but nobody seemed inclined to help.

Meanwhile you were unaware that as an angel showing up in hell you were attracting more attention than you realized. The demons that noticed your halo and wings began to whisper about and you were oblivious to the cameras watching you since you arrived.

"Is that really an Angel?" Vox pondered. "She certainly looks like she comes from heaven" Valentino said with slightly suggestive implications. "She might be powerful if we can get her to make a deal..." Vox's words trailed off as he felt consumed with the way she moved. She was born to be on a screen. "...We'll have to make sure she doesn’t make it to her intended destination." He caught himself trying to hide his allure towards her.

Val on the other hand never tried to hide anything. "Ella seguro es hermosa. I wonder if she'd be open to filming something with me." He spoke as he eyed her on the screen. Vox tried to contain the unreasonable amount of jealousy he was already feeling. "Well if I get a deal with her we can share." Vox lied. He didn't have any plans to share her. Val didn't seem to like that idea.

"How come you want her so bad? Maybe if I get her I can make us both rich." They both threw shade at one another while trying to hide their true feelings before they noticed the cameras had lost their precious little angel. "HEY! WHERED SHE GO?!?" Vox shouted. They searched street after street before the drone found her again. She was close to the hazbin hotel. "Shit! We can't let her get there." Vox declared. "You're right. We can discuss this once we have her here." Valentino said being uncharacteristically reasonable for once.

"I'll cut her off and you meet me there" Vox knew he might have to share her with Val but he started to feel confident he could manipulate him enough to keep him in check at the very least. Now all he needed to do was convince an Angel to trust a demon which was something he wasn't too concerned about. Convincing people to trust him was literally his job. And it was pretty damn good at it. This should be easy.

[chaos-mix]

The Choices the Stars Make - 14th Doctor x reader

Summary: The Doctor promised you the stars when all you ever wanted was him. What happens when he’s finally ready to settle down? Will he reach out and try again?

Word count: 818

~~~~~~~~

You pull your blanket up higher as you turn to watch the stars shinning through the living room window. It does little to soothe the aching of your heart as your mind keeps spinning in “What ifs?”. What if you hadn’t left the doctor? What if you hadn’t asked him to stay?

You shake your head at the unfairness of the situation, turning your back on the cold stars, facing your laptop screen.

You squint at the brightness. The universe has never been fair. It wasn’t when you watched people crying out for your help die, and neither was it when you were forced to confess your true feelings to the Doctor. His discomfort and shift in body language did not surprise you, nor did his lack of touch in the weeks that followed. You just wish he hadn’t taken all of the joy of the night sky with him when you left.

Focus. You told yourself, but your heart sunk further, your fingertips getting cold on the plastic mousepad.

Observational Astronomy. A dry laugh forces its way out of your chest, making you feel hollow. You used to dance around the surfaces of planets, experience the sights never seen, the Tardis translating the x-ray and ultraviolet light spectrum for your eyes to witness true beauty of nebulas … now you’re finishing up a paper on observational astronomy and the photographs were in black and white. Life is funny like that. It feels like life lost some of the colour too. You wish it wasn’t 2am, life is easier to handle when you don’t have to stay up at night to work on something. Especially something that reminds you of him. Days are easier, warmth is easier. Warmth reminds you of joy of adventure, his hands, the kindness. Not his eyes when he left you.

~~~~~~~~

The Doctor did not seek you out. He did not wander the streets close to your house for too long. He did, however, made sure that no threats lingered close to your apartment at all times.

At least until his old face returned.

Oh so many regrets felt thrown back at his face. What he wasn’t able to give. The loved ones he lost… He grieved Rose for a long, long time, even after you met him. That same grief drove Martha away. Donna… River Song… He should have been able to save them all. How could he protect you if he couldn’t even keep his life as John Smith? And you knew. You saw him fall in love, you saw him live a normal life. He knows he hurt you beyond forgiveness when he grieved his human life and yet, despite all of that grief, did not choose to build one with you.

Seeing Donna again had him longing for the old days. The days of the three of you jumping through the universe, watching the joy on your faces! That was until the Earth got taken over by the Master he forced your feelings out in the open. Doctor could not deal with reliving his past through you. He couldn’t stomach losing you. He couldn’t make Donna go through the same darkness that Martha did when he was still grieving. Not to even mention Time Lord Victorious. His biggest regret. At least you were saved from watching it happen.

But now… now that he did not need to save the universe… now that he had someone else to entrust it to and now that the biggest decision of his day was how to protect the moles from Wilf… maybe he could give you the life you wanted after all.

~~~~~~

Your phone buzzed one day after the lectures and you instinctively answered it, expecting it to be one of your parents checking in. It was a rash decision you made to switch universities, but with all the stress of studying medicine and the flashbacks of lives you couldn’t save, switching to something familiar was an easier choice.

“Hello, yes, I’m still studying astronomy. No, I will not end up starving in the streets when I’m done.”

“…So you decided to study the stars?”

That… was not a voice you expected. Not that you would ever in a million years expect the Doctor to call you. He was someone who buried down feelings. He did not call ex-companions, only companions in trouble called him.

“… Doctor?” You chocked up. Funny. You planned to say so many things during all those sleepless nights and now all you could manage is “Is something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, the Doctor smiled a lopsided smile. It didn’t reach his eyes, but the words warmed his hearts. He still had time to turn back. He could run away and never look back.

But that soft kindness in your voice, even after all these years…

“Would you have some time to meet an old friend?”

[sweetcherrybmb]

Toto Wolff with wife grumpy!reader because she had too much work to do and everyone was pressuring her. (she's an accountant) With both her boys (Toto and their son, Jack) everything is better. Fluff and maybe a little suggestive. Thanks!! :))

a/n: ooooh, i like the concept, but it took me a little while to figure out how to write it tho... she did end up being more on the overwhelmed and frustrated side, rather than grumpy, but i hope you'll enjoy!! :)

also i pulled out my german knowledge for this one and confirmed it with my translator (mom), so i hope no germans or austrians get mad at me ~~~///(^v^)\\\~~~

(FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!!)

NUMBERS AND COMFORT // TW \\ one-shot

pairing: toto wolff x grumpy!wife!reader

description: based on the request above!

word count: 1320 words

warnings: none, a little suggestive (pls tell me if i need to add something)

Papers on paper on papers... You could barely see over the copious amounts of documents littering your desk. Monthly spending records, receipts, bank statements... as well as all the other things. That usually meant you would be busy and occupied, something that you greatly welcomed at your job, but today seemed unusually overwhelming.

It seemed that today, all things that could go wrong... went wrong. One of your colleagues lost two crucial documents from the beginning of the month, setting your monthly report back at least two days. The bank also seemed to have lost those same documents as they couldn't find any record of there ever being transactions that time of month.

Your boss decided that today of all days, he will come in to bother you about the same report you didn't have all the documents for, as well as dumping some more work on your back, because... why not.

Oh! And let's not forget that the paperwork that needed to be done by your colleague for all of the salaries to arrive on time was stalled because she forgot to do it before going on vacation, setting payday a week back and adding even more paperwork to the ever-growing pile on your desk.

Your head fell into your hands, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. Your third cup of coffee sat empty next to your notebook. With shaky hands, you lifted your phone from the small side table that it usually sat at, having not checked in on it in hours.

' 15 missed calls from ˝SCHATZI˝ '

You sighed again, looking at the screen. The notification stung your eyes, not only by its brightness but its contents. He was probably worried, excessively so.

I looked around the office, seeing that the pile dwindled slightly, having finished calculating the pay first. The report was missing the data from the first two weeks. But, you stood up, put on your coat, and grabbed your bag. Without a word, you left the company building and made your way towards your car.

Sitting down and starting the car felt weird, as if you weren't doing it by your own will. The ride home was silent, having turned off the radio the moment it started playing. Tears welled up in your eyes, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to you.

Parking the car in your driveway, you quickly got out and went to the door. You searched for your keys, but to no avail. A pair of footsteps quickly approached the door and your husband's face soon appeared in the doorway.

You pushed past him and quickly pulled off your heels and coat, dropping them on the floor. You could feel his eyes following you as you moved to the kitchen.

He was worried. It was evident in the way he looked at you and immediately followed after you. He saw you at the kitchen counter, head in hands, sighing and rubbing your temples.

You both heard the quick patter of feet on the tiles of your home, knowing fully well who it was.

˝Is mutti back?˝ Jack's small voice asked from the door into the kitchen. When he saw you, his face immediately lit up. ˝MAMA!˝ he ran to you, hugging you and you groaned. You loved your son, but the force of him slamming into you and the already existing headache made you nauseous. He started rambling and you saw from the corner of your eye, Toto shaking his head.

˝Jackie, please... be a little quieter...˝ you said, but he didn't seem to hear, continuing his rant. ˝Jack...˝ you said again, but once again he continued. Your were getting more and more frustrated by the second, something Toto picked up on rather quickly. He moved closer to the two of you, pulling Jack away slightly and lifting him up to sit on the counter.

˝Ok, Jack, das reicht, mutti hat Kopfschmerzen und hatte einen sehr harten Arbeitstag. Wie wäre es, wenn du ihr einen kleinen Kuss gibst und sie ruhen lässt, hm? Du kannst ihr später von deinem Tag erzählen. (Ok, Jack, that's enough, mom has a headache and has had a very hard day at work. How about you give her a little kiss and let her rest, hm? You can tell her about your day later.)˝ Toto told him and he nodded, stretching his arms towards you. You moved closer and Jack took your face in his small hands, giving you a kiss on the forehead. You giggled and kissed his cheek back and the moment you put him down on the ground, he scurried off to play.

You turned to Toto and wrapped your arms around his neck, placing your face on his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the top of your head.

˝Thank you...˝ you mumbled, tired and in pain. He smiled down at you, pulling away slightly.

˝There is nothing to thank me for. How about you go shower and change, I'll make something to eat. Hm?˝he asked and you smiled, tears welling up in your eyes. ˝What are the tears for, hm, shatzi (honey)? What's wrong?˝ he moved away some hair from your face, gently wiping the tears away.

˝It's just... too much. The work and the incompetent people I work with... UGH! They are all so insufferable!˝ you groan and bury your face in his chest.

˝It'll pass, meine liebe (my love), now go and get ready for dinner.˝ he said with a final kiss to your forehead and a light smack to your butt as you left, making you giggle. As he prepared dinner, you showered and changed, already feeling better.

You dropped by Jack's room, seeing him playing on the floor.

˝Jackie, coming down for dinner?˝ he lifted his head and nodded, starting to pick up his toys. ˝Leave the cleaning up for later, come now.˝ you open your arms and he runs into them, giggling. You lift him up and go downstairs.

In the kitchen, you're welcomed by a sight. Toto with your small, strawberry print apron cooking something that smelled divine, your handwritten cookbook opened in front of him. He heard you and Jack giggle and turned around.

˝What's so funny, eh?˝ he asks, putting his hands on his hips, which only makes you and jack giggle even more. You set your son down and turn him towards you.

˝Go and turn on the tv and find something to watch, I'm gonna stay and help dad with dinner.˝ with a small 'ok' he ran of to the living room. ˝You look cute in that apron, where did you find it?˝ you giggle, smoothing it down on his chest, resting your hands there.

˝In better spirits, I see?˝ he asks and you nod, hugging him. ˝Go and set the table, I'll be done here soon.˝ he pushes you back and you smile.

Now that everyone was gathered at the table and eating, you finally felt at peace. No annoying coworkers, no piles of paperwork. Just you, your son and husband, and a relatively good dinner save the few burnt pieces of onion.

After dinner, you all lay on the sofa, watching something on the tv. Jack lay on Toto's left, almost asleep, and you on his right. Toto's hand was on your hip, tracing small circles in your exposed skin. Neither of you paid any attention to the tv, stealing kisses from each other. His hand slowly moved higher, his kisses getting more passionate.

˝Toto...˝ you whined as his hand moved lower to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.

˝What, schatzi?˝he whispered into the kiss.

˝Not here...˝ you whispered back.

˝Hmm... I'll put Jack to bed...˝ he rose to his feet, picking up your son along with him, and you followed suit. ˝And you get ready in the bedroom...˝ he said as he pulled you in for another passionate kiss, squeezing your ass harder. As you kissed, all that was heard was a low 'eeewww' from Jack.

You quietly laughed and made your way to the bedroom, sending one last wink in Toto's direction.

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[dnickels]

I don't think Gibson gets enough credit for how skillfully he extricated himself from the sodomy allegations. Long post to follow ->

The evangelical mindset is "we are constantly under siege from both invisible powers and our fellow man (and even one's own thoughts), every waking moment is nonstop spiritual battle" so Gibson framing himself as too weak to refuse advances (without spiritual backing, naturally) is a brilliant play for Irving's own anxieties while also putting him in the position to be the shepherd rescuing one of his flock. A direct appeal to the Victorian bourgeois savior narrative, expertly played. He's given Irving a script so familiar and one he's so eager to act out he doesn't for a second question its veracity.

And now we depart to the realm of pure speculation (oh boy my favorite) but I always wonder what exactly Gibson told him, and how much it actually corresponds to what we hear Irving scold Hickey for. I wonder if something got lost in translation (Irving heard what he wanted to hear which is not quite the same as what's actually being said). I think Gibson is perfectly capable of shopping Hickey to save his own skin no question, but that scenario doesn't quite jive with how surprised/concerned he is that Hickey and Irving apparently had a chat about the situation. Surely Gibson didn't think he could say "I was coerced" without some kind of follow-up? It could be a feint, he's just acting to try and keep Hickey from holding a grudge (I think Gibson knows with brutal clarity that you do not want to be on Hickey's shitlist) but his reaction reads to me like he's seeing his fib start to spiral out of control. Of course, one of the grand themes in Terror is people not being as smart as they think they are (or, more charitably, that even well-conceived plans often shipwreck on the shoals of human unpredictability) so it could just be an example of a reasonable plan blowing up on contact with an unreasonable person, as individuals are a universe unto themselves and truly unknowable to each other. Or maybe he really didn't think Irving would do anything, because he asked him to keep it quiet? Maybe that's how it usually goes, everyone agrees to keep it quiet-- sobering thought.

Still, it intrigues me to think about Irving as the wildcard in Gibson's plan, not Hickey-- bringing baggage to it that Gibson didn't include in his calculations. I wonder if Gibson heard the lecture, how many of his own words would he recognize? I can see the shape of a communications breakdown, where a tactful "the temptation was overwhelming, I couldn't resist him" becomes "he used overpowering force" or "I didn't come forward because I was afraid" becomes "he threatened me into silence". Not unreasonable assumptions for Irving to make, honestly, I just think its interesting to play with the idea that they are assumptions and not part of Gibson's ass-saving explanation. Just no accounting for what happens in the pressure-cooker of the evangelical brain!

Obviously the darker read here is that Irving can't understand a messy gay situationship despite spending years at sea is because he is homophobic (while desperately refusing/denying/fighting his own desires) or was himself party to coercion, either towards himself or someone else.

I just think its interesting to think of how it might have played out if Gibson and Hickey been surprised by say, Hodgson instead-- who might have given them a stern "I don't want to catch you two not at work again" but otherwise let the matter slide, or Little, who I can see loading them down with donkeywork but refraining from escalating because doing so means talking to Crozier and Oh God, Please No.

I keep coming back to the question of whether or not Gibson was ready/intending to burn Hickey as badly as his lie makes it seem. While I think he's perfectly capable of it, but it seems like such a risky move when his confession (owning what Irving has no real proof of, I'm more familiar with the early 19th century legal situation on land but the standard of proof for sodomy specifically was actually pretty high) could just as easily backfire on him rather than exonerating them both. We only have Gibson's word that he acted for their mutual benefit, and even if he's telling the truth it seems like stepping on a landmine: no one seems to think Hickey would hang on his accusation, so he's going to still be around after a potential flogging and presumably pissed off. Obviously its a bad situation all around but I am so curious about his own risk/reward accounting. For me, I really enjoy imaging him trying to play master manipulator to Jirv who is absolutley not a player and mostly lets Jesus call the shots. Very funny to me to be so ambitious and skillful and willing to play the Great Game but it all comes to nothing due to human folly. Thesis moment.