#and possibly the smartest person I've ever met

[asphaltvalkyrie]

Working on setting up an entirely new PC built from the ground up by A Friend - if you don't see me for awhile you'll know it didn't work.

[peachesofteal]

Soap x Cypher's masterlist 18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes / dubcon / explicit, spanking Soap/female reader Sergeant MacTavish teaches you a lesson about honesty

"Cypher."

"Yeah?" You barely look up, too focused on the raw data that's filtering across your screen.

"Laswell asked for you." You don't hear it at first, the request. You're too lost in the lines and lines of code, numbers, letters, symbols all working together, where is it, where- "Cypher!" your coworker barks, and you jump.

"Shit. Sorry... what?"

"Laswell. Upstairs. Briefing room. Now?" Your lips quirk, head hanging. Yeah, guess you deserved that.

"Did she say for what?"

"No. And it's not my place to ask." They jerk their head, and you lockdown your console. Fine.

Station Chief Laswell scares you. She's probably one of the smartest people you've ever met, quick with analysis, observation, she can read a situation from top to bottom in less than three seconds. She knows everyone, and everything.

And, she handles the 141.

You don't have frequent interaction with her. You report to her, ultimately, but it's hard to understand where she falls on the org chart. It's hard to understand where you fall on the org chart, if you're being honest, since you're not military, just a civilian contractor. All of the authoritative titling and chain of command makes your head spin a little bit, and you've pretty much decided to ignore it all. Keep your head down, do your job, mind your ps and qs. Your yes sirs and no sirs.

You tap your knuckles against the briefing room door.

"Come in." It's a man's voice, a deep, smooth voice with a British accent, and it makes you pause, confused. I thought Laswell was up here?

You push the door open, hesitantly, and what you find makes your stomach nearly crawl up into your mouth.

The 141 are in here. You glance around hastily before finding Laswell, eyes a little wider than you’re comfortable with. They’re all seated at the table, looking at you, and when you peek at Sergeant MacTavish, he cocks his head so subtly, you might have missed it. Fuck. Shit. Why is he looking at you like that? You think you might pass out. Why do you feel like this around him?

"Gentleman. This is the civilian specialist I told you about." She gestures to you, giving them your government name before continuing, and they all nod. "This is Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Garrick, and Sergeant MacTavish." She points to each, making the introductions to which you nod, and smile, trying as hard as you can to make eye contact so they don't think you're rude. When she gets to MacTavish, your stomach heats, and on instinct, your eyes drop to the floor before glancing back up to find him focused on you, jaw tight, eyes narrowed.

"You're Cypher." Lieutenant Riley comments, and you nod, surprised. How does he know you?

"That's uh... my nickname. Sir."

“Cypher is our resident analytics expert, and we believe she’s located your targets.” Laswell continues, tapping a key on her laptop that wakes up the black screen of the giant TV. You do a double take when you see your work up there, your lists of compiled data, cross matched and sorted. “I was hoping you could walk them through some of this.” Oh. Oh no. Talk to them?

“Uh okay.” Your fingers find each other, instinctually, trying to pick and tear at your skin as your heart rate speeds up. “This is-“ you glance at the screen, and then back at their expectant faces. Sergeant MacTavish is watching you, predatory gleam in his eyes, and you gulp. Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here. “This is a highlight of hot zones in two different target cities. It’s pulled from local agencies’ databases, everything from license plate readers to residency records, IP hits and census information. After cross matching with all possible identities for your targets, family members, associated persons, patterns of behavior, I confidently believe I've identified and located your subjects, and they reside in these areas.”

"You know who they are?" The Captain asks, surprised, and you nod.

“How confident are ye?” Sergeant MacTavish asks, and you blink.

“Uh, like ninety percent” He looks… displeased. “Sir.” You tack on at the end, hoping to see some sort of approval for it, and when it doesn’t come, the ache inside you widens.

“I like those odds. Heard you were good, but this is something' else. Our intelligence has been working on ID'ing these guys for months with no luck.” Sergeant Garrick raises an eyebrow, exchanging a look with his Captain, and you brighten a little bit. Okay, that’s good. Right? You did good?

“Not sure ninety percent is good enough.” Sergeant MacTavish answers, and Laswell nods like she agrees. You wilt. Welp. And now your boss agrees. “Can ye show me the raw data?”

“I- sure, it’s…” you snap your mouth shut abruptly when he stands, and motions for you to follow him out the door.

“Let’s go then.”

You don’t make it back down to your console. Instead, he pushes you inside a maintenance closet, hand firm on your shoulder, guiding you down to your knees in the back, behind a shelf.

“Sergeant I don’t understand, I-“

“Ye tryin’ to send us out on a wild goose chase?”

“What?” You stare up at him, jaw slack. He’s terrifying, lit by damp, yellow light, arms crossed in front of his chest. There’s something in the way he looks at you, something that makes your thighs press together instinctively and at the same time, your heart starts palpitating. “Sir, I don’t-“ his hand darts forward, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them just a bit with a menacing smile.

"Are ye tryin' to send us on a wild goose chase? Yes or no, specialist."

"Nossir." It mushes together in your mouth, vowels trapped between your cheeks, and he nods.

"I didnae think ye were." He releases you, only to step closer, and you gulp when his hands find the waistband of your pants. "Take these to yer knees. Now."

"My... my pants?"

"Aye." When you don't move, he sighs. "Ye dinnae want me to have to ask a second time, do ye?" And no, you don't. Because you're sure whatever is coming will be far worse if you test his patience.

It's humiliating, dropping the pants to your knees, and the mortification gets even worse when his finger slips under the hem of your very boring, generic brand black cotton thong, pulling it with a yank so it jerks you forward and you almost trip.

"Sergeant... Sir, I'm sorry, I-"

"Why are ye sorry? Stay put." He turns away for a second, locating an old, fold up chair that he sets up where he was standing, settling into it with his knees spread. "Now, come."

"I'm sorry, I don't know why... why this is happening, I don't understand." You try to explain your confusion, but it all comes out as nonsense, and he nods, sympathetically, like he's sad for you, in a mocking, cruel way.

He taps his thigh.

"Hips here." He instructs, moving you like a doll when you start to bend down, pressing your belly against one leg, your breasts and collarbone against the other, ass in the air. "Bleedin' Christ. Ye sure are a sight." He squeezes you, fingers rough in the swell of your cheeks, before smoothing over the skin of your hip, pressing a firm palm to the small of your back. "Do ye know why we're doin' this?"

"No." You whisper, eyes closed. You don't know why you're doing any of this, why he's doing it. You don't know why he picked you, why he keeps you in his sights, why he has you bent over his knee. You don't know why you felt floaty and fucked up after the first time, why you dreamt about it, why you felt like you needed it. This is wrong. Isn't it? He swats your ass, barely a tap, and you flinch. "Sir. Sorry. Sir."

"Ye said you were ninety percent."

"I did."

"But I know, ye're better than ninety percent, aren't ye, my wee genius?" Your lungs are burning with the breath you're holding, and you let it out in a burst.

"Yes." You whisper to the floor.

"Why did ye lie?" The question is followed by a swing of air, and then a palm is stinging across your skin, pin prickles of pain making you whimper. "Count."

"One-e." You gasp. He doesn't pull his punches. He strikes fast. True. Twice in a row, the intensity making you choke on a whine. "Two, three. I didn't."

"Ye did." He rubs the point of impact, cooing at your ass like it needs comfort, before asking again. "Why did ye lie?"

"I wasn't, I-" Smack. This one comes in the exact same spot, a cruel choice, and you bite down on your lip, eyes scrunching shut. "Four."

"Why did ye lie?" You don't answer right away, and he swings, palm swatting down onto your other cheek, skin rippling beneath the hit. It steals your breath, and he prompts you again, with the same question, and you fail to answer, his response coming swiftly against you, smacking raw against burning skin. It's starting to shift now, the pain blurring the lines between uncomfortable and unbearable, while also taking on a different characteristic all together, one that has blood rushing beneath your skin, clit rubbing against the front of your pulled tight thong uncomfortably, not enough contact or pressure to do anything, but enough to drive you insane. You blink, trying to keep yourself together, trying to prevent floating away into space somewhere.

"Sir!" You pant, and he laughs, shadow of a hand swinging through the air, landing against you with a resounding crack.

"Tell me. Why did ye lie?"

"I-" You scramble for an answer. Why did you lie? Why didn't you just say the truth, the facts. What you knew, without a doubt. Why did you lie? "I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of... of the room. Of making a mistake."

"But ye didnae make a mistake. Ye found a needle in a haystack." You nod. He's right, you did. "So the next time I ask ye how confident ye are, ye say one hundred. Ye tell everyone in that room, that ye did something other people can't, and ye own it."

"Y-yes sir." You whisper, and he runs a palm over the screaming skin of your ass.

"Good girl." He murmurs, your lower lip trembling. "Ye did good for me. So good."

"Thank you." You sniffle, and he shifts your body, lowering you to your knees in front of the chair, pants bunched under your bones like a little cushion.

"Sir?" You ask, confused as he pats your cheek, bending to press a long, hot kiss to your mouth, fingertips stroking across your pussy, overtop your underwear, before pulling back with a devilish smirk.

“Open.” He instructs, and your eyes widen. “Not goin’ tell ye again, sweet Cy. Open. Now.” You do, lips parting, mouth cranking wide, and he removes his fingers, hand drifting to his pants. Oh, fuck.

If your mouth wasn’t already hanging open, it would have dropped to the floor when he pulled his cock free. It’s long, long enough that it’s intimidating, and thick, probably as wide as your wrist, flushed red at the tip. There’s a bead of pre come dripping from the head, cozy crop of brown curls at the base.

“S-s-sir.” You squeak, and he smiles, cupping the back of your head as he taps your lips with it. "It won't- I can't, it's too-"

"I'll teach ye." He grunts, feeding you his cock slowly, tears falling down over your cheeks when he presses it into the back of your throat, as much as you can go, not even to the root yet. "That's it. Jus' like that, easy." He uses your mouth, your face, hand firm on the back of your head, stroking in and out between your lips until they go numb, faster and faster until you believe you might pass out, cock head jamming down past your tongue, blocking your airway with each thrust. You think you might black out. You could be blacked out right now, and not even know. You're not positive you're still in your body, the body with a sore, stinging ass, wet pussy, and occupied mouth, your Sergeant using you as he sees fit, determined to possess you like some sort of demon. You gag on him, throat seizing, and he pushes through it, bound and determined, your name a ragged whisper whistling through his teeth. "Fuck, swallow it. Dinnae lose a drop." He grits, and then plunges all the way, flooding you with sticky, sour salted earth that pours down your throat, hot come dripping down into your stomach.

You sit there, on your knees, after, stunned, unmoving. He shifts around you, pulling your pants up, fixing your hair, wiping your face. He's speaking to you too, murmuring soft words in your ear, lips touching your cheek, your temple, something about how good you are, how sweet, how he's not going to let anything happen to you, how you don't have to worry, because he's here now- and you slip into it like you're falling into your bed, closing your eyes and drifting away, melting into his side when he gathers you up, cradles you against his chest.

"C'mon sweet Cy. Let's get ye to bed."

[gachagon]

Frank is the "Question-Answerer"?

I've wanted to talk about this for a while but I've only ever spoke about it in Welcome Home theory discords lol. But anyways, this update we actually had two pieces of art from Clown's portfolio website separate from the main Welcome Home site be added to the main site, and I do remember Clown saying any art found on the main site is "canon" to some extent to the main story. Here they are:

These two images can be found on the Staff Only page! The reason I find these two pieces of art to be really cool is because they show a side to the puppets that we haven't really been seen on the website yet, which is that they're literally puppets being controlled by actual people. And not just that, but the implications of the Frank picture being that they can be easily replaced if they "break" or that their were other versions of themselves before that they've never even met before.

And with the newest update really shining a light on Wally's newfound sentience, the possible dissociation that comes with experiencing a new thing with no one to relate to about it, and the loneliness that someone can feel amongst their friends when they're "different" in a way the others aren't, I think these two art pieces really show a new kind of horror that the story has just begun to explore!

I've always been really suspicious of Frank as a character because I personally theorize that he might be the Question-Answerer that the WHRP got into contact with. And that red box that his hands are holding look eerily similar to the envelopes that Eddie delivers (and also the envelopes that can be seen in some of the photos in the new update) I also think Frank might have also been one of the first Puppets who "gained" sentience in a way, and became aware that he is alive and that the world around him is fake etc.

Frank's little bio here says he's the smartest neighbor in the neighborhood, and that the other neighbors would often come to him for advice on things. But also "Answers" to a lot of questions that would just be played off as a joke in the end.

And seeing as this is a piece of horror media about the experience of gaining sentience for the first time, I do find the one character who's whole thing is knowing more than the others to be kind of side-eye worthy lol. I've always personally interpreted that art of him with the red envelope as him discovering there were "prototypes" of other Franks. Perhaps the Playfellow company couldn't quite get his head to spin angrily in the right way, or it would do it to fast and he would "break" resulting in them having to make a new one each time.

[salbertwolf]

I don't like getting political on main, mostly because of personal issues and anxieties, and maybe it is hypocresy on my end to speak on something just because it personally affects me, but here we go I guess.

Hi, I'm Sal, I'm an inmigrant from Venezuela, I have not returned to my country for 4 years now. Not to visit, not to fix my papers. I am lucky to have been granted citizenship in the country i'm currently residing just because my mom is from there.

I have two grandmothers, one who practically raised me and I had to leave behind, I had a dog, she was my first pet and the smartest dog I've ever met and I had to leave her behind. I have family all around LATAM now, one in the US who cannot go back.

This is what I've heard from family, videos, coverage from the media that was allowed to film:

Monday was a depressing day for my country when the political party that has been in power for 25 years blatantly stole the elections from my people. During the voting process, several voting centers were not opened until mid-day, a tactic used to discourage people from voting, witnesses were not allowed to enter, soldiers were standing guard as an intimidation tactic, people were chased off the lines, and millions of Venezuelans that were able to vote outiside of the country were roadblocked by requirements last minute (I was not able to vote, as we currently don't have the necessary income to afford a three person travel to the neighboring city, and didn't register our location, nevertheless I imagine my parents' names would appear on ballots they did not sign in favour of a goverent they do not support).

I've seen people here in support of this just because of his words pro-Palestine, and this is not me not sharing that sentiment, but to be blinded by the words you want to hear instead of listening to the cries of millions of people who also want freedom and stability in their country, and have voiced it for years, have died for it, then you don't really care about the sentiment behind those words, you care only to point to something and declare it evil, you do not care to fix it or that the people directly under it are calling it out, you need the world to fit your perspective of evil just to act superior.

The regiment I lived in is evil. The regiment that chased off doctors and has caused so many deaths or risk of deaths (I lost a friend, same age as me by anesthesia overdose, I almost lost my little cousin during COVID because they refused to admit it was COVID), the regiment that refused teachers their well earned payment, the regiment that took out power to a whole state for many hours just to shut them up. The blocades from the US or other countries has certainly allowed the situation to worsen but this was poisoned many years before that. The US has allowed this regime to fester because it is convenient for them, because why else would they spend so much money on the oil in Venezuela? Do you honestly believe a blocade was implemented to weaken the goverment? Fuck off dude it's to debilitate the people and allow the donkey we have for a dictator to continue ruling unopossed. It ends, it has to.

Don't be deafened by fancy and simpathetic words of a party that is freely eating the youths and dreams of their citizens, they do not care for your ambitions, they just want to feed themselves and let us starve.

I am against violence in general. But when you've taken all mediums for the people to oppose you, you are inviting the people to make you listen in the only way they can now. I hope the riots that are happening right now work, and I mourn each loss of every family that is making it possible. I pray my family stays safe, I pray my friends stay safe. But fuck you genuinely for saying this was fair, it was never fair, it will never be fair until change happens.

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: A surprising turn of events has the roles reversed. Over some good wine you get to know Jake better, and kind of find out you like him, a little bit.

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Wine Me, Dine Me

"Why yes, Jake Seresin, will you go on a dinner date with me?"

You extend your hand and bow with great flourish. Jake affects a cheesy southern accent he replies,

"Oh my, this all so sudden," he pretends to clutch at fake pearls at his neck. Dropping the accent, he answers, smile wide,

"Yes, I'd like that a lot."

The walk to the restaurant is filled with easy conversation, luckily the restaurant is far enough away from the stadium that it isn't filled with the post game crowd and you're seated quickly at a cozy table by the front window. You page through the wine list with Jake and agree on a bottle of Malbec and a few plates. Talking with Jake has turned out to be like the wine, flowing easily and a whole lot more complex than you expected. It turns out he's a lot more than the cocky flying ego you assumed him to be last night.

"My reputation precedes me. I let everyone make assumptions on what they've heard about me. Let them figure out why that's a bad idea. There's a lot to be learned just listening. Let all the supposedly smarter people in the room speak so you can get the best info. Plus, once you’re known as the smartest, the best, whatever people work to knock you down. Why not exceed expectations rather than set them?”

You laugh darkly,

"The fact you’re listening to everyone in the room already makes you the smartest person there. I can't tell you how many times something I've said in a meeting gets passed over, and then suddenly comes out someone else's mouth, usually a guy, and it's the most fucking brilliant thing ever. I've had to be a hard ass and claim back my ideas. It definitely doesn't make me everyone's favorite coworker. My job, my education, my experience sets people's expectations high and I'm always pushing up against that and making the level higher and higher."

"That’s got to suck,” he replies, empathy apparent on his face. You nod in agreement.

“What's work like for you? I know you work for Lockheed Martin, what do you do there?" he asks, stabbing at the last mini crepe on the plate. He offers it up to me and I shake my head no.

"My job is in research for new aircraft, that's about all I can tell you and that I do a lot of work with the Skunk Works up in Bakersfield. Lucky for me I can be out of the San Diego office and not have to live in Bakersfield."

"Amen to that, not much there in the middle of the desert. Did you move here for that job?"

"Yes, the aforementioned work breakup left me without any entanglements. Lydia had a spare room in her house so I moved from Florida to here for a new start."

"How do you know Lydia? You both seem like different ends of a very broad spectrum."

"Believe it or not, I've known Lydia since my first day of college at Notre Dame. We met in our fundamentals of engineering class. We were two of the five women out of a class of 50 so we ended up sitting by each other and becoming friends."

"What, hold up. Lydia is an engineer?" Jake asks, eyes wide in disbelief. He snorts, considering the possibility.

"Did not expect that based on what I saw and heard last night at the Hard Deck and coming from Rooster's room, " he pauses to shudder, "What kind of engineer?"

"Environmental, she works up with the Scripps Institute modeling pollutants in ocean currents. Turns out we dumped a lot of nasty stuff in the ocean that we kind of need to know where it's going. I get it, you meet Lydia and she comes across as a total bimbo ready to get laid. More boobs than brains. What did you hear from Rooster's room?"

"Things that can not be unheard. I think he actually crowed like a rooster at one point. That girl has some stamina, I was surprised Rooster kept up with her. At the point I heard her shout, 'I want to ride that mustache' I was ready to suffocate myself with my own pillow. I was able to finally drown them out by using some of the earplugs I've got for being on the tarmac."

The crowing and mustache comments make you nearly spit out your wine, which would be a shame. It's really a great bottle.

"He crowed like an actual farm animal?”

Jake shudders reliving the memory.

“Also what's up with that mustache? It looks like it fell out of a 70s porno and somehow stuck to his face," I ask, amused by this whole exchange.

Jake shrugs, seemingly as perplexed as you are by Rooster's facial hair choices.

You continue,

"Now you can see, or rather hear, why I moved out of Lydia's at the first chance I got. I love that girl to death, but she is one noisy roommate."

This is Jake's turn to almost spit his wine. You continue on,

"You know that Frank Zappa song, Catholic Girls, that's Lydia."

He nods, you make a mental note that he must really be into classic rock if he can get that deep pull of a reference.

"Lydia is Lydia Mary Catherine O'Callahan, comes from old east coast money, went to Catholic schools her whole life. Apparently, her parents thought Notre Dame would be a good influence, but in reality it just gave her a new stock of corn fed guys to ply her wiles on. She actually slept with at least two seminary students who then changed their minds about being priests."

Jake is overtaken by the thought and laughs a deep rumbling laugh that makes you feel that familiar tug of arousal low in your belly.

Eventually, the wine and the food are finished. You settle the check amicably,

"I asked you on the date," and before you realize it you hear yourself saying,

"You can get it next time," which brings a bright smile to Jake's face. You check the time, look outside at the falling darkness and mention,

"I took the ferry over, so I should get back to the terminal to catch my lift home."

"So did I," he answers back before asking,

"So did you want to walk back together?"

"Sounds lovely," I reply. The walk through the Gas Lamp quarter is beautiful at this time of night, although when you glance at Jake at your side he is always staring at you. This is where you can see that unshakeable confidence that comes with him being a pilot in that he only smiles wider when you make eye contact with him, he never averts his gaze.

Finally on the ferry and standing at the front rail the day starts to catch up to you, and a small yawn escapes your mouth just as you shiver.

"You cold?" Jake asks, he is leaning on the rail next to you, his body close enough to feel the heat radiating off of it.

"Yeah, didn't think I was going to be out this late.I honestly thought I'd be back home right after the game."

Jake laughs, and smiles widely, laugh lines forming,

"Well, I'm glad I exceeded your dismally low expectations of me and that you gave me a second chance after that piss poor showing last night. Here, let me warm you up." He moves to stand behind you, brings his chest to your back, then drapes his long arms over your arms. Instantly, you're 10 degrees warmer, although some parts of you are heating up quicker than others by this close contact. You're waiting to see if he tries to put more of his moves on you and you almost feel disappointed that he doesn't. You start the mental math of when it was exactly the last time you had sex and you realize it's been four months. No wonder horny brain has been hyperactive today.

The walk to your place is quiet and filled with brief orbs of brightness as you walk under the street lamps. Jake has taken a hold of your hand since stepping off the ferry and you don't mind it. At your door, there are a few seconds of awkwardness after you unlock your door. And then the confidence you've seen from earlier kicks in and Jake is craning his neck and head down to meet yours. He whispers into the space between you and him,

"Elsa, can I kiss you?"

You don't reply but rather catch his lips in a deep kiss, impressing yourself with your own boldness. His hands go to your waist to pull you in close to him. Your hands find themselves moving up and down the hard planes of his chest and abs. You can feel each muscle defined under his shirt. Your mouth waters at the thought of licking and kissing each one. Gently, your mouth opens while the kiss deepens and his tongue slips into your mouth. You sneak your own into his mouth just past his impossibly white teeth.

The taste of Malbec is still heavy on his tongue. His hands are wandering from your waist, one up to meet the bare skin of your back and shoulders, the other going south and starting to play with the hem of your dress.

Your hands have moved, one to his back under his shirt to feel the skin there and the other has moved to the back of his head and your fingers are carding through his perfect blond hair. His hand on the hem of your dress is slowly sliding the fabric up your leg exposing it to the cool night air, not that you even notice the cold with the hot points of contact with Jake's body. You start to feel the hardness between his legs growing against your stomach. He is ridiculously tall compared to you, it wouldn't take much of a height change to lean down and suck his cock. This thought is the one that brings you back down to earth and with more willpower you thought you had, you break the kiss feeling breathless and a tingle on your skin where his hands have been. He pulls back from the embrace with his eyes blown wide and licking his lips.

"Jake, holy shit, you’re a good kisser. And as much as my body is screaming to keep going, we need to stop here. For…," your words falter and fail you here, because you don't want to get entangled with someone who could be leaving the next day. You're not sure you can handle yet another break up, mostly you're scared to trust again, and you can't be just a hookup for one night, the list goes on.

Jake leans in to whisper in your ear, "No worries, we can take this as slow or fast as you want. I'm just pleased that you already want me, not exactly the best way of keeping my ego in check letting me know how wet I'm making you right now. I'll leave you with this little tidbit to think about later tonight. I saw one of your tattoos when I picked you up for that foul ball. When you give me the chance I intend to kiss every part of it and any others I find on you."

This exchange has not tempered the fever running through your body. You take one step back to put some distance between you and him before you lean in for one more kiss. One that feels almost chaste after what you both shared, but one that is filled with tension and promise. It's your turn to whisper in his ear,

"You'll just have to figure out where the tattoo goes, and here's a little thought to fuel your imagination when you get home and jerk off. I never got to tell you that I was a Division 1 gymnast at Notre Dame. That makes me very, very flexible." You can hear him tamp down a whimper when you kiss his cheek goodnight.

"Goodnight, Jake."

"Goodnight, Elsa."

@mayhemmanaged

You walk into your house and shut the door. You quickly sneak over to the living room window to watch Jake walk away. You swear he's almost skipping and he definitely is whistling. It makes you smile and realize enough to say out loud to no one, "I am so fucked."

Chapter 4

@callmemana

@dempy

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

[saltyowlet]

Some Tav lore dump cause I'm on that good brain rot. Introducing my main Tavs, Eve and Olive. Spoilers for Act1 and 2

Eve:

Chaotic good; doesn't have a plan but got the spirit

Druid, Circle of the Moon. Fav wild shape is bear and spider. She likes to look intimidating. Multiclass eventually as a barbarian as she's gotten more Angier and short fused cause a certain goddess

Is quite a fan of Halsin and his work. May have fangirled when she first met him. Doesn't hurt that he's so beefy and hot

Polyamory but fell for Gale enough where she isn't bother about being monogamous. Plus, she's too busy trying to fight Mystra.

Would have punched Mystra if she ever saw her. What do you mean you told your Chosen to kill himself???

Totally hooked up with Astarion that one time but ended it with him cause the man had googly eyes for the leader of the pack. Actually became a good friend of his cause of how earnest she was

Fell head over heals for Gale. She likes smart men, plus, listening to him talk and lecture is hot to her. She's not the smartest person, so it's nice to be with someone who is. Gale's way with words? Mr. I've got a practiced tongue? She was a goner

Mighty insecurities about how others respond to her looks. She knows she's pretty, but it annoys her that it's one of the only things people care about.

Looks sweet and innocent but regularly digs through dead bodies and viscera for supplies. Her circle regularly studied dead animals and people for information and understanding of nature ethically. She would be a doctor or mortician in another life.

The type to respond to a dare by upping the ante.

Sleeps top less much to the chagrin of the camp. Nudism was a common thing in her former circle. Gale is not bothered by it at a certain point.

Olive:

Said leader of the pack. Reluctant cause why is everyone going to her for advice and decision making???. She just helped a few people, and now everyone decides she was the leader?

Monk, Way of the 4 Elements. Possible multiclass as a rogue cause Astarion influences. Plus, really good dex

A durge trying her best to stop being so stabby. Regularly throws up and self hurt cause she really is disgusted by her thoughts. She moves her tent far from camp after a certain night in Act1.

Neutral good or True neutral.

Initially, she was not into helping others besides her camp cause turning a mind flayer is kind of dire, but if helping someone benefited them with finding the cure, then fine, she'll help.

However, after seeing what happened to the tieflings in Act2, she became more assertive and vowed to get them safe. It becomes a turning point in how she responds to conflicts and her role as the leader of the camp. Talked her way through all the bbg in Moonrise

Most actions are done for the good of the camp or by guilt. Altruism isn't her Forte, but it doesn't hurt to do if it's on the way. Miss. "I'm not being nice I'm being efficient."

Fuck the gods.

Confession immediately after the orthon fight was cute cause she talked her way out of orthon encounter. Astarion found it extremely terrifying, impressive, and kinda hot. She was a sobbing mess after confession, she had fallen hard for him and didn't know how to deal with happiness. They started sleeping in the same tent from then on.

Enemies to rivals to lovers Astarion. Mostly cause of trauma bonding. Didn't care about him cause she doesn't like overly flirty people. But after bard death, her guilt gave way to sympathy for Astarion's own problems. More lax about his "evil" side so long as it's within reason and doesn't go too far. She knows he's mostly all talk

Astarion had some competition cause everyone in camp ended up having some form of a crush on her. Plus, she had a crush on Wyll but squished that after the bard night.

Never cared for sex. Likes makeouts and the occasional Astarion whispers of sweet nothings. Only slept with him 1 time before confession cause she could tell Astarion needed to, even if she didn't know why.

Ngl, my art doesn't do justice on how beautiful Eve

Olive is a bit easier but her tattoos are difficult. I do like how her skin tone can go from light blue to green depending on the lighting in the game

[paisholotus]

𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓈

I was nervous stepping off the plane. I can still remember running to Kate to tell her the news that I got accepted and would receive a full scholarship. Me and her sat at the dinner table at her house celebrating my acceptance into the program I had been hoping to enroll in since I was little.

When I was a kid, I was constantly building something, and my mum soon realized that I was extremely intelligent for my age. Being the smartest child in every class, I was consistently placed in advanced classes. When I told my mum I wanted to be a scientist, she told me she thought I could do anything and that she believed in me.

I'll never forget the phone call I got while I was at school that my mum died from a car accident. I didn't have any family other than my mother because my sperm donor of a fucking father abandoned me and my mum.

When I asked my mum why I never saw my father, she said it was because he didn't want to be a part of our lives. I always knew I was different from the other kids, not just because i was smarter, but because of the stories my mum would tell me. She told me he wasn't from America, and when I was around six she showed me a glowing tattoo on my lip and told me if something happened to her that the tattoo was supposed to protect me.

I became an orphan when I was 11 years old. I became angry with everything and everyone. To relieve the pain I would fight, steal, party, drink, and get high on anything and everything. I'm 18 years old now.

Then I met Kate Linton, my new counselor, that was assigned to me. She persuaded me to clean up my life and encouraged me to want better for myself. She urged me to join the Wakandan International Outreach Program. I had my doubts about it, because what if I wasn't made for this?

But I decided I wasn't going to be scared anymore, I was goin to make my mama proud. Because this what she would have wanted for me, to be happy. And I am.

As I walked through the airport, a small smile crept on my face. I've never been to America before, so everything was a little overwhelming for me. Kate made me promise to call her as soon as possible, when I settled in.

A month before all of this, a woman came from Wakanda to interview me, and she introduced herself as Nakia. She complimented me, saying I resembled many Wakandan children, but that I was the most intelligent person she'd ever met.

I told her about myself and my ideas and about my inventions, I showed her all my projects. And she actually looked interested and stared at me like my mum used to, when I would passionately talk about my projects.

She accepted me into the program right then and there. She told me that I was going to make a big difference in Wakanda, but what she said went over my head because I couldn't stop myself from silently crying with a small smile on my face. I'd never felt so happy and excited in my life, and I felt like I'd done my mama proud.

A/N: would y'all like a pt2 ?

[baileypie-writes]

Oh my god, PreCure x Reader blogs exist?????? You are so cool, bro!

Anyway, could I kindly ask for Westar x Reader headcanons? Maybe with a short reader if that fits with your blog rules? Otherwise just general dating headcanons are fine. Tysm.

I've never sent asks to writer blogs before so I'm sorry if it sounds pushy/demanding. Have a nice day/night/afternoon/morning/evening!

A/N ~ Thank you so much for your kind request! I love Westar so much, he’s one of my favorite villains. I’ll do general dating headcanons, with a mention of a short reader. I usually like for the reader’s appearance to not be mentioned, so that anyone can read it. But there are some exceptions. I hope you like it!

~Westar Dating Headcanons~

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

Fandom: Fresh Precure!

Fanfic Type: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Romantic

Characters Included: Westar

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Warnings: kinda cringe, Westar being dumb, Westar being whiney, mention of Westar being aggressive(not towards Reader)

~Masterlists~

~Fresh Precure! Masterlist~

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

~ It’s no mystery that Westar isn’t the smartest guy in the world. So when he likes you, he doesn’t even know it. Despite this, he unknowingly acts very affectionate towards you. So much so, that there were multiple occasions where people have mistaken you as a couple.

~ If you don’t want to wait months(or possibly years) for him to realize his feelings and confess, you’ll have to do it. When you do, he’s shocked. You ask him if he feels the same, and at first he wants to say no. You’re just his best friend! Someone he loves more than anyone else. Someone he loves hanging out with. Someone he can’t stand being away from. Someone he loves getting hugs from. Someone he thinks about giving kisses to- wait a minute. You eventually have to ask him if he’s okay, after not responding for a good 20 seconds.

~ Westar loves showing off(or trying). He’s very strong and quite muscular, and it’s something he’s very proud of. So he’ll use any chance he gets to show off. Is that box too heavy for you? No problem! He can lift it with one hand! Tired of walking? He’ll gladly carry you! However, sometimes his attempts at impressing you backfire, and he ends up making a fool of himself.

~ Westar also loves talking about you! He loves you, and thinks you’re the most amazing person ever, and he’s not shy about it. He talks about you any chance he gets. He talks about your talents, and how you’re the best at what you do. If someone mentions one of your interests or hobbies, it causes him to start rambling about you. Soular and Setsuna already know everything about you before you even met them, because Westar constantly talks their ears off about you.

~ If you’re shorter than him, he thinks you’re the cutest thing ever(not that he wouldn’t think so otherwise). He loves it when you ask for help with getting something off the top shelf, he likes that he can be helpful to you. He does tease you sometimes, but never in a mean way. He’s just being playful. He also uses you as an arm rest a lot. He doesn’t even do it intentionally. It’s just that you’re right there, and the perfect height.

~ Westar has no shame when it comes to PDA. He won’t hesitate to give you a hug or kiss if he feels like it. He couldn’t care less if there are people around. You’re his partner, so why shouldn’t he give you affection? If it makes you uncomfortable though, he’ll save it for when you guys are alone. Also, just so you know, Westar gives the best bear hugs. No one can change my mind on that.

~ He can be a big baby sometimes. If something doesn’t go his way, or Soular was being mean to him again, or maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, you’ll know about it. He’s very whiney when he’s upset, and you’re one of the only things that can help him feel better, so good luck. When he gets like this when you’re not around, he’ll go looking for you. When he finally finds you, his moods changes immediately. It’s like he wasn’t even upset in the first place.

~ He has a big heart, so he’s very caring. But he’s also very emotional. When you cry, he cries. When you get hurt, he cries. You give him a gift, he cries. He adores you so much, that it makes him overwhelmed. Unfortunately, he doesn’t always cry as a reaction. If someone caused you harm, or hurt your feelings, he’ll hunt that person down(and I’m not exaggerating) So unless you want them in the hospital, you’ll have to physically stop him.

~ Westar has a little notebook where he writes down everything he learns about you. It started out as just basic things, like your birthday or favorite food, just in case he forgot. But soon, he started writing down anything new he learned. He does this because he wants to remember every detail about you. Your current interests, your favorite bands, your allergies, your fears, everything is in that notebook. And it’s surprisingly organized. He brings it everywhere, and it’s constantly being updated.

~ He’s a very cuddly guy. He didn’t even know he was until you initiated it for the first time. After that, he was addicted. He loves the warmth and comfort, and of course being close to you. If you’re too busy, or refuse his cuddles, he’ll become real pouty.

~ Westar can’t cook, but he tries so hard. He loves the process, but it just never turns out great. He once tries making donuts, but they turned out as thin, black rings that crumbled when you tried to pick them up. You offered to help him get better at cooking, and he was so happy! It soon became a routine to cook dinner together, and it’s his favorite part of the day! He does get upset when the food doesn’t turn out great, but he keeps trying. Eventually, he does get better, and there are less failures.

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[braveclementine]

On the Spaceship

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

"In all the time I've served Thanos, I have never failed him. If I were to reach our rendezvous on Titan with the Time Stone still attached to your vaguely irritating person, there would be judgment."

The needles that were around him, slowly pierced him. Stephen flinched, holding back his cries of pain. He brought up the image of Sam laughing in his head, focusing on that memory only. He was doing all of this for Sam.

"Give me. . . the stone."

Stephen could feel his entire body vibrating in pain. The needle in his cheek was the most painful, feeling like it was going to explode. Sam's face was starting to become blurry. He need to hold on.

If only for Sam.

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Tony leaned over the edge to see far below the wizard was being tortured. Something tapped him on the arm and he immediately reacted, pointing his blaster at the floating red cloak in the air. It held up its end flaps, almost in a surrendering gesture to show it was harmless.

"Wow, you're a seriously loyal piece of outerwear, aren't you?" Tony asked, heart beating a million miles an hour, but slowing. It started to speed right back up again though, when another voice suddenly cut in.

"Yeah, uh, speaking of loyalty." He watched the spider kid drop from the ceiling, his mask coming off.

"What the-"

"I know what you're gonna say."

"You should not be here!"

"I was gonna go home-"

"I don't wanna hear it."

"But it was such a long way down and I just thought about you on the way-"

"-and now I got to hear about it."

"-and kinda stuck to the side of the ship. And this suit is ridiculously intuitive, by the way-"

"Damn it."

"-So if anything, it's kinda your fault that I'm here."

"What did you just say?"

"I-I take that back." He said very quickly. "And now, I'm here in space."

"Yeah, right where I didn't want you to be." He stepped right up to the kid and said quietly. "This isn't Coney Island, this isn't a field trip. This is a one-way ticket. You hear me? Don't pretend you thought this through."

"No, I did think this through."

"You could not have possibly thought this through."

"You can't be a friendly neighborhood Spider- man if there's no neighborhood." There was a pause where they stared at each other and then he said, "Okay, that didn't really make sense, but you know why I'm trying to say."

Tony sighed. "Come on. We got a situation." They walked to the edge and he pointed, "See him down there? He's in trouble. What's your plan? Go."

"Um. . . Okay, okay Um. . . Okay. Did you ever see this really old movie, Aliens?"

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Stephen cried out in pain. It wasn't so much seeing Sam's face as a human now, anymore. It was now when he had met Sam, when he had been a stoat. It had been so strange, turning into a creature like a stoat. Sam had found him just adorable.

Stephen found he had loved the affection and pets that Sam had given him, after he learned to accept the care. It had been hard at first, always thinking he was the most dominant, the smartest, all of it. But maybe he'd needed it, maybe that was why he had been the animal. To tone his ego down a little bit.

He loved Sam. So much. And if he didn't get to see him after this, at least he would be safe. Sam would be safe.

"Painful, aren't they? They were originally designed for microsurgery. And any one of them-" He paused and Stephen saw Iron Man standing behind him, fully equipped in his suit and blasters pointed at the alien, "Could end your friends life in an instant."

"I gotta tell you he's not really my friend." Tony said and Stephen fought the urge to roll his eyes, even with the pain he was in. "Saving his life is more of a professional courtesy."

"You've saved nothing." The alien said, calling up a box behind him to throw at Stark. "Your powers are inconsequential compared to mine."

"Yeah, but the kids seen more movies." Tony said.

Kid? What kid?

Stark shot the blaster at the spaceship, which ripped the alien out. Consequentially, it ripped Stephen out too. His cape grabbed his arm, but couldn't keep the grip. He felt something grab him from behind and then went out into space. His breath caught in his throat and then jolted before he heard someone shout, "Yes! Wait, what are those!"

Then he was being pulled inside again, and he landed harshly on metal. He wasn't even up on his feet when he heard a young, teenage voice said, "Hey, we haven't officially met." And then, "Cool."

"Gotta turn this ship around." Stephen muttered, pushing to his feet, his cloak settling on his shoulders.

"Yeah, now he wants to run. Great plan." Stark snipped as he walked by.

"No, I want to protect the stone." Stephen said. He could feel blood running down his face and knew Sam was going to kill him when he got home.

"And I want you to thank me." Stark responded. "Now, go ahead, I'm listening."

God, all of the advice that Y/N had given Sam on how to deal with egotistical dickheads really was true experience.

"For what? Nearly blasting me into space?"

"Who just saved your magical ass? Me!"

"I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet." Stephen responded.

"Admit it, you should have ducked out when I told you to." Stark snapped. "I tried to bench you. You refused."

"Unlike everyone else in your life, I don't work for you." Stephen snarked.

"And due to that fact, we're now in a flying doughnut billions of miles from Earth with no backup."

"I'm backup." The kid said, raising a hand.

"No, you're a stowaway." Stark responded. "The adults are talking."

"I'm sorry. I'm confused as to the relationship here. What is he, your ward?"

"No." The kid said. "I'm Peter, by the way."

"Doctor Strange." Stephen responded, not wanting to bring any anger out on the kid. It wasn't his fault. Although he also knew that Stark probably just wanted to get home to his wife and two kids. Although Stephen was also still pissed that Tony was the reason Sam was on the run.

"Oh, you're using our made-up names. Um. . . I'm Spider- man then."

"This ship is self-correcting its course. It's on autopilot." Stark said from up front.

"Can we control it." Stephen asked, not really wanting to end up at the location it was going for. "Fly us home?" When Stark didn't answer, Stephen barked, "Stark?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get us home?"

"Yeah, I heard you. I'm thinking I'm not so sure we should." Stark finally said.

"Under no circumstances can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos." Stephen growled through his teeth. "I don't think you quite understand what's at stake here."

"What? No. It's you who doesn't understand, that Thanos has been inside my head for six years. Since he sent an army to New York and now he's back." He was inches from Stephens face, spitting mad but Stephen didn't move an inch. "And I don't know what to do. So I'm not so sure if it's a better plan to fight him on our turf or his, but you saw, what they did, what they can do. At least on his turf he's not expecting it. So I say we take the fight to him. Doctor. Do you concur?"

Stephen felt a rush of emotions towards Stark. There was still anger over making Sam run and hide. But there was an admiration there on his thinking, and also a small rush of affection towards the first bit. Or perhaps not necessarily affection more. . . leniency?

"All right, Stark. We go to him. But you have to understand, if it comes to saving you or the kid or the Time Stone, I will not hesitate to let either of you die." Stephen said slowly and firmly. "I can't, because the universe depends on it."

"Nice. Good, moral compass." Stark responded, patting him on the arm, though Stephen could see the pain in the eyes as he moved away, his fingers touching his wrist where Y/N's animal name would've been. "We're straight." Stephen watched him walk away with his eyes. "All right, kid." He touched both his shoulders, "You're an Avenger now."

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Tony and Stephen had been standing at the front of the ship for a while. Tony was staring at a photo of him, Y/N, Everleigh, and Arlo. It was a new picture, only taken a few weeks ago. Professional pictures done on the Avengers Compound since Y/N couldn't leave.

It was an old fashioned thing to do, carry a photo of your family around. One that you could actually touch. One that if it was bent or folded over and over would crease. But he treasured it. And now he was glad that he had it.

He noticed then, that in the very back he had photos of some of the Avengers. He had never been sure why he hadn't tossed them, but something stopped him every time. He glanced over at the wizard and sighed a little, quickly flipping through them.

With the photograph face down, he held it out without looking at the wizard. When Stephen took it, he walked forwards to see that they were almost touching down on the planet.

"Hey, what's happening?" The kid asked.

Tony turned to see the kid and saw Stephen looking down at the photo. "I think we're here." Stephen said, tucking the photo into his pocket.

"I don't think this rig has a self-parking function." Tony said, walking back and looking at Peter, "Get your hand inside the steering gimbal. Close those around it." He closed it around his own arm, getting ready, bracing himself.

"You understand?"

"Yep, I got it."

"This was meant for one big guy, so we gotta move at the same time."

"Okay, okay. Ready." They neared what look like a big star. "We might want to turn. Turn! Turn! Turn! Turn! Turn!" Peter repeated frantically over and over.

Tony closed his Iron man suit around him to help him out and the kid let the entire Spider-man suit close around him. Orange shield appeared around all of them as the wizard protected them, the ship coming apart around them.

"You all right?" Stephen asked, helping Tony to his feet.

"That was close." Was all he said. "I owe you one."

Peter came down from the ceiling, hanging upside down, "Let me just say, if aliens wind up implanting eggs in my chest or something and I eat one of you, I'm sorry."

"I do not want another single pop culture reference out of you for the rest of the trip. You understand?" Tony asked, not wanting to think about aliens planting eggs in anyone at all.

"I'm trying to say that something is coming." Peter said, pointing his thumb behind him.

Well, maybe that's all he should have said.

Something suddenly landed by their feet, exploding. Tony went flying, as well as the wizard.

Tony flew around as another guy flew around. He tossed him off of him, but he pressed a button, an electrode attaching Tony to a piece of the ship. He grunted, trying to push off it. Tony finally managed to get off, planting his foot on another alien man with red lines on his chest.

"Everybody stay where you are. Chill the eff out." The man who had been flying said, his blaster pointed straight at Peter's head, his arms tied together. The man let his helmet down to show that he looked like a rather normal human being, "I'm gonna ask you this one time. Where is Gamora?"

"Yeah. I'll do you one better." Tony said frantically, also letting his helmet come down, "Who's Gamora?"

"I'll do you one better." The man below his foot grunted, "Why is Gamora?"

"Tell me where the girl is or I swear to you I'm gonna French fry this little freak."

"Let's do it. You shoot my guy and I'll blast him. Let's go!" Tony shouted angrily.

"Do it, Quill! I can take it!" The guy below his blaster shouted.

"No, he can't take it!" The strange alien girl with feelers on her head, tied up by Peter's ropes shouted.

"She's right. You can't." Stephen said, almost in a bored tone.

"Oh Yeah? You don't wanna tell me where she is? That's fine. I'll kill all three of you and I'll beat it out of Thanos myself. Starting with you."

"Wait, what, Thanos?" Stephen asked quickly. "All right, let me ask you this one time. What master do you serve?"

"What master do I serve? What am I supposed to say, 'Jesus'?" The Quill guy taunted.

"You're from Earth?" Tony asked.

"I'm not from Earth. I'm from Missouri." Quill said stupidly.

"Yeah, that's on Earth dipshit." Tony responded. "What are you hassling us for?"

"So you're not with Thanos?" Peter asked, letting his mask come down too.

Quil sounded disgusted as he answered, "With Thanos? No, I'm here to kill Thanos." He lowered his gun a little bit. "He took my girl. Wait, who are you?"

"We're the Avengers man." Peter said.

"Oh! You're the ones Thor told us about." The creepy insect girl said.

"You know Thor?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. Tall guy, not that good looking, needed saving." Quil answered.

Needed saving. . . well if Thanos had blasted the ship apart, yeah he probably had needed saving. As for the good looking part. . . well Quil was probably just jealous because he wasn't much of a looker, in Tony's opinion.

"Where is he now?" Stephen asked.

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"The hell happened to this planet?" The guy, known as Peter Quil or Starlord, asked as they all stepped off the ship and onto the actual planet. "It's eight degrees off its axis. Gravitational pull is all over the place."

"Yeah, we got one advantage. He's coming to us." Tony muttered, looking around. "We'll use it. All right, I have a plan." He was dismayed when he turned around and saw insect girl- Mantis fittingly enough- jumping up and down in a pocket of less gravity. "Or at least the beginnings of one. It's pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need. Definitely don't want to dance with this guy. We just want the gauntlet." He spun around, "Are you yawning?"

Drax was indeed yawning and Tony went off on his rant, "In the middle of this, while I'm breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?"

"I stopped listening after you said, 'we need a plan'." Drax said calmly.

"Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page." Tony sighed, looking back at Starlord.

"See, 'not winging it' isn't really what they do." Quil explained.

"Um, what exactly is it, that they do?" Peter asked quickly.

"Kick names, take ass." Mantis replied.

Drax agreed with her.

Tony sighed. There were a lot of things that he could say, but quite frankly, he didn't want to waste the energy. He just wanted to finish this, kill the stupid bastard, and get home to his family. Maybe saving the universe would get Y/N off house arrest and they could go out to an amusement park or something.

"All right, just get over here please. Mr. Lord, can you get your folks to circle up?"

"'Mr. Lord'. Star-Lord is fine." Quil answered calmly. He nodded his head so Drax and Mantis came forwards. Peter backed up a few inches.

"We gotta coalesce. 'Cause if all we come at him with is a plucky attitude-"

"Dude, don't call us plucky." Quil interrupted. "We don't know what it means. All right, we're optimistic, yes. I like your plan. Except it sucks, so let me do the plan and that way it might be really good."

"Tell him about the dance off to save the universe." Drax encouraged.

"What dance-off?" Tony asked, intrigued.

"It's nothing." Quil said quickly.

"Like in footloose, the movie?" Peter asked.

"Exactly like Footloose." Quil said excitedly. "Is it still the greatest movie in history?"

Great. There were two of them.

"It never was."

"Don't encourage this, all right?" Tony asked. "We're getting no help from Flash Gordon here."

"Flash Gordon? By the way, that's a compliment." Quil said from behind him. "Don't forget, I'm half human. So that fifty percent of me that's stupid, that's one hundred percent you."

"Your math is blowing my mind." Tony retorted.

"Excuse me." Mantis interrupted. "But does your friend often do that?"

Stephen was floating above a rock, green tendrils wrapped around his wrists. His head was jerking back and forth, side to side, up and down in weird movements. "Strange are we all right?" Tony shouted at him. Tony walked over to him and when Stephen dropped down, Tony put pressure on him so that he didn't fall off the rock. He knelt in front of him.

"You're back. You're all right." Tony said firmly.

"Hi."

"Hey, what was that?" Peter asked, sounding a little frightened from behind them.

Stephen was still breathing heavily as he explained, "I went forward in time to view alternate futures. To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict."

"How many did you see?" Quil asked from behind Tony.

"Fourteen million six hundred and five." Stephen replied.

"How many did we win?" Tony asked, dreading the answer. He could already read it on the wizards face.

"One."

[littlexredxhoneyxbadger]

How about 14 for the ask game for all of your MCs. ☺️

In reference to this post.

14. "What are your MC's hobbies?" Thank you so, so much for submitting an ask! I've been waiting for an excuse to talk about my brainrot children, and I really appreciate the opportunity to flesh them out. I did my main four, since I haven't really fleshed out or decided everything for Cassie or Chana yet, but I hope you'll enjoy these regardless.

Mary Frances Garratt Collecting rocks. Frances loves her rocks and has been known to skive off and wander off the path to collect them; plants, potions ingredients, and everything in between aren’t far behind. She’s small – barely 5’0 – and can’t swim, but she’ll go waist deep into the nearest body of water at even the slightest chance of finding the specific ingredient she’s looking for.

Beyond that, Frances can also be quite domestic. Her interest in plants, herbs, and potion ingredients transfers over (and primarily comes from) her time in the muggle world. She grew up very Catholic in a household with very traditional gender roles, and after her parents passed, the family she lived with used her primarily for “women’s work” – i.e. being a maid to them, and a nanny to their three children. Frances has a lot of built up anger for ways she was treated by the parents, but loved the children and teaching them things that she was never taught (and had to figure out herself).

Frances isn’t exactly a foodie, though (though she is the anti-thesis of the phrase “never trust a skinny chef”). She likes pastries, and she’s a fiend for most mixtures of sugar and flour, but a lifetime of sensory processing issues (and as a fellow autistic girlie, I sympathize) has left her with more of an enjoyment of the cooking process than eating it. Baking, though? Oh, this girl is definitely the kind of person who would make homemade cookie dough at 2am and eat half of it raw while baking the rest of it.

Fun fact: Mary Frances was named after my paternal great-grandmother, may she rest in peace. She had a 3rd grade education, married at 13, had 7 children, and never learned to read. My grandfather, her youngest child, describes her as the smartest and kindest woman he ever knew.

Esther Han-Ostberg Esther’s the creative one of the bunch. Born deaf, she still enjoys music from the vibrations, but enjoys visual medias far more. She grew up fairly isolated, one might even say a fair bit sheltered, but always found solace in painting, specifically with acrylics because she has exactly zero patience for oils. Poetry is a big one too, since she can’t hear the lyrics of someone singing; for Esther, it was a way to express her thoughts and stories in a slightly unconventional way, as opposed to strictly writing them down.

Stars are an interest of hers as well. Her father, a Swedish muggle, was a geologist who dabbled in some other forms of science, notably astronomy, which was a big part of the way that Esther got her name (which is both Persian and Hebrew for “star”), and though she didn’t have the greatest interest in stars or astronomy as a child, stargazing became a bonding experience for Esther and her father – a way for them to engage in something that didn’t require Esther to hear in order to enjoy, and didn’t require her father to be magical to understand (and especially given astronomy may or may not have been how Esther’s muggle father and witch mother met).

Daniel Harper If ever there was someone to call a horse girl (or boy, in this case), it would be Daniel. Like all of my MCs seem to be, Daniel grew up isolated and was the youngest of six sons born to two magical parents. His father split early on, when Daniel was a toddler, embarrassed at the possibility of having a squib for a son; Daniel’s mother, who wasn’t much better, remarried a wizard named Eric (who again, wasn’t much better), who bred and trained thoroughbred horses for racing and steeplechasing.

There, Daniel found his passion. He was isolated and bullied, in both worlds and by his entire family, but he had the horses, and when he was a pre-teen, he met a palomino filly not expected to survive the night following her birth, and it was there that he found his first love. The palomino, who’s coat color did not make her a particularly sought after item, was allowed to stay on the farm, and from there, Daniel found his best friend.

He named her Naomi, meaning “gentle” and “beauty”, though he chose it less for the meaning or more to make a pun: “NEIGH-oh-mee”.

Daniel trained Naomi all on his own after years of teaching himself how ride, and how to hunt on horseback. He slept in the barn with her and the other horses, was up all hours of the night and day to care for her and the others, and dedicated himself to caring for the creatures that – in his opinion – were nothing more to his family than a means of making money. No respect for the creatures, no love of the breed or sport, only love of the next sale on their mind.

But even years later, as he rides Highwing, he thinks back to his horseback riding and remembers fondly.

Tzipora Strausser Tzipora is a music lover, through and through, specifically piano. Growing up with a deceased mother and a father who toiled away all day as a miner, Tzipora could never have afforded the privilege of hearing music on a daily basis – much less ever learning to play an instrument or owning one.

But one of her earliest memories after her father’s death was at the orphanage that she grew up in. She was only six years old, unable to speak English or Welsh, only German, having immigrated to Swansea from Dusseldorf with her father less than a year prior, and most of the caretakers at the orphanage were at a loss of how to communicate with her. Though Yiddish, which many of them knew snatches of (being an Ashkenazi Jewish orphanage), shared some similarities with Tzipora’s native German, it still wasn’t enough to bridge the gap. The orphanage, run by a rabbi and his wife, was attached to a shul (synagogue), and one of Tzipora’s most vivid memories is of the first time she heard a cantor playing the piano during a Shabbos service. She couldn’t understand the words of the song, but with the notes, she didn’t have to.

After the service, she wandered away from her age group’s caretaker, climbed up onto the bench of the piano, and just started tapping each key to make a sound. When her rabbi approached her and asked her about the piano (in a language she couldn’t understand at the time, Welsh), Tzipora began to cry and thought she was in trouble for touching the piano without permission. However, the rabbi sat next to her on the piano’s bench and wiped her tears away, took her hands, and without a word exchanged between the two, taught her every chord he knew.

Tzipora always wanted to be a cantor or some kind of musician as a child, though cantors were rare in Orthodox Judaism at the time, and female cantors even more so. But even then, everything could change, and she could be sent from foster home to foster home, and then back to the orphanage and onto another foster home, but despite the fluidity and technique of how someone could play a piano, the songs always remained the same, and she knew that she could always find solace in tickling the ivories.

[ashbrat488]

Foul Play - Chapter 35

August 2023

"Are you absolutely certain about this, Millicent?" Darren inquired as he handed her the bouquet.

"Absolutely." Her reply was swift and resolute as she met her father's gaze, her confusion evident. "Do you not like Henry?"

Darren chuckled, his hands gently resting on her arms as he nodded affectionately. "Sweetheart, I want you to know that it's not about whether I like Henry or not, or whether I think he's the right fit for you. My concern lies in the fact that you two haven't been together for very long."

Millicent sighed softly, a smile gracing her lips as she looked at her father. "I understand your worries about us moving quickly, but we've had countless discussions about this, and we're absolutely certain. We're deeply in love and eager to be married."

Darren nodded, his knuckles brushing lightly against her cheek, a tender smile on his lips. "Very well then. You look beautiful today, sweetheart. I'm immensely proud of you. You are a strong and capable woman and i know you will go far."

"Thank you, Daddy." Millicent's smile widened as she leaned into the gentle touch of his hand on her cheek.

"All right." Darren cleared his throat, offering his arm to her. "Let's get you married."

Millicent nodded, following her father out of her former bedroom. "I appreciate you allowing us to use your home."

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what you need. That's a promise."

A tear welled in her eye as she smiled up at her father while they approached the back door. She took a deep breath as the doors swung open, revealing Henry standing at the far end of the aisle adorned with white rose petals. A smile blossomed on her face as her eyes locked with Henry's, the setting sun casting a warm glow behind him. She began her walk toward him, accompanied by her father.

As they reached the end of the aisle, Darren pressed a loving kiss to her cheek and placed her hand in Henry's. "Take good care of her."

Henry nodded, his smile radiant. "I promise."

Millicent handed her bouquet to Abby with a joyful smile before turning back to Henry, their hands entwined. She nibbled on her lower lip as Henry beamed at her, his gaze unwavering as the priest commenced the ceremony. Millicent's heart raced, and though she missed some of the priest's words, she felt the warmth in Henry's hands as he began his vows.

"Millicent," he started, his voice quivering with emotion, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, "you are the most wonderful person I know. The first time our lips met remains the best day of my life. I have never met anyone kinder or more compassionate. You are the smartest, most beautiful woman I've ever known, and every day, you make me a better man. I promise to prove every day that I am worthy of being your partner in all aspects of life and I can't wait to be able to see you as a mother one day."

Her voice trembled with emotion, and he could feel the depth of her love in every word. "You make me happier than I ever thought possible, Henry," she continued, her voice filled with sincerity. "Every day, I fall more in love with you. I never knew what true happiness was until I found you. I am so grateful for the love and support you show me daily. You make me so happy, and I promise to always be your biggest fan."

The love between her and Henry was palpable, and it filled the air with warmth and happiness. The priest smiled, clearly moved by the genuine love between the couple, and said, "With the vows you have exchanged, and the rings you are about to give to each other, you have expressed your love and commitment. It is now my great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife."

Cheers erupted from the small crowd as Henry and Millicent beamed at each other. Henry cradled the back of her head gently, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. He released her reluctantly, squeezing her hand. "I love you so much, Shortcake."

She couldn't hold back the smile as she pressed another kiss to his lips. "I love you too."

***

Henry placed his hand on Millicent's lower back, pulling her body flush against his as their first dance song began. She wrapped both arms around his neck with a warm smile. "You know, it's a shame we can't sneak away to consummate our marriage," she teased with a smirk.

Henry chuckled, darting his tongue out over his lips. "Maybe if we had a bigger wedding, it would be less noticeable if we vanished for a bit. But you're the one that insisted on something small."

She shrugged slightly, glancing around at their families and friends. "I didn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of people I don't know on the happiest day of my life."

He grinned with adoration at her, bringing his hand up to stroke her cheek. "I completely agree. My beautiful wife..."

She blushed slightly, sliding her hand up into his hair as she leaned in to close the distance between them. "My handsome husband," she murmured as she pressed her lips against his. She let her lips linger briefly against his, savoring the taste of him as she ran her hand down the back of his head. His eyes drifted closed, his lips parted slightly as his tongue darted out to brush against hers.

He pulled back abruptly with a sheepish grin. "We'll have to wait until later for more..."

She nodded, her breath hitching as she brought her thumb up to rub some lipstick off his lower lip. "I can't wait."

***

Henry's breath catches and he leaps to his feet at the sight of Millicent entering the bedroom in white lingerie. Her see-through lace bra was accompanied by a matching white thong. "Wow... Shortcake..."

She blushed, wrapping her arms timidly around herself. She knew that Henry found her attractive, but still, she couldn't help her own insecurities sometimes. "Is it okay? I wanted to wear something sexy for our wedding night."

Henry chuckled slightly, approaching her to grab her hands from herself. "Don't ever hide yourself from me. And you look fucking amazing."

She ran her hands up his hair-covered chest to encircle his neck as he pulled her against him. "Show me how amazing, Henry."

"I plan to... all fucking night," he promised, eliciting a giggle from her before he sealed his mouth over hers.

Their mouths slid against each other hungrily as he brought her body against his, her legs straddling his waist as she ground into him. She moaned softly, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly as he ran his hands along her back, pressing her body closer to his. Their bodies began to writhe against each other, passion building between them as their tongues danced with one another.

He twirled her toward the bed, collapsing atop the sheets together. "You're so perfect, Millicent," he whispers, pressing a small kiss to her lips as he undid her bra slowly. He pulled it off, tossing it onto the ground behind him. He grabbed her waist, flipping her onto her stomach as he straddled her. He leaned forward, laying kisses along her spine as she shivered under him.

She moaned as she felt him drag his hands down her shoulder blades and back until he reached her thong. He slid it off, tossing it aside as well as his boxers. He gave her ass an appreciative smack before dipping down to take a small bite as she giggled. "Henry!"

"Sorry, it's just so cute..."

She wiggled her ass beneath him playfully as he took another bite of her ass. She cried out in surprise when his hand landed roughly across her bottom, eliciting a yelp from her as he laughed quietly. He kissed her neck softly as she shuddered with pleasure. "Stop teasing me, Henry," she whined, her fingers digging into his hair. "Make love to me."

He smirked, biting her shoulder lightly before turning her onto her back, her nipples hard with anticipation. He pressed himself against her, his hands roaming up her thighs and sides until he finally reached her breasts. He began to fondle them roughly as he sucked on her neck, relishing the feel of her soft skin against his lips. She gasped as he brought his fingers down her front, parting her legs slightly as he stroked his fingertips along her sensitive flesh.

She began to whimper softly, pressing her palms against the mattress as she dug her nails into the sheets beneath her. She watched him closely, fascinated by the way his eyes lit up with desire as he stroked her breast, her pink nipple darkening as his hand covered it. She held her breath as he bit down gently on her breast, her body arching into his mouth as her moans filled the room. He swiped his thumb across her nipple, causing her to cry out, feeling his finger slide inside of her. He groaned as he inserted another finger inside of her, rubbing his thumb over her clit gently.

He leaned down, kissing her neck as he whispered seductively against her ear, "Tell me what you want."

She could barely form a coherent thought, moaning incoherently as she clutched at the bedsheets. "I want you inside of me, Henry," she whimpered.

His fingers stopped their rhythm, leaving her frustrated. "Not yet," he told her softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he lowered his head to capture one of her trembling nipples in his mouth. He rolled his tongue around the tip of her nipple, enjoying the pleasurable sounds that escaped her lips as he massaged her other breast with his other hand. He ran his fingers down her side and back again, stopping just short of where her hips joined her torso. He looked up at her, his expression serious as he whispered, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she whispered, "please, Henry."

"Shh," he told her soothingly, his voice deepening as he pressed his cock against her entrance. "You're going to feel so good."

She whimpered softly as he pushed forward, allowing her to adjust to his size before withdrawing once again. As he entered her a second time, her walls squeezed him tightly, making him moan. He began to thrust harder, watching her intently as he did so. Her moans became louder, filling the room as he leaned forward to suck on her nipples again. He grasped her waist firmly, pulling her back towards him as he pushed deeper inside of her. She bit down on her lip, trying to stifle the cries that threatened to escape.

"I want to hear you, Shortcake. Moans, whimpers, screams. I want it all. Don't hold back," he groaned in response, his thrusts becoming faster as he thrust deep inside of her.

"Please, Henry," she pleaded.

"So pretty..." he moaned against her throat as he rubbed his thumb over her clit. "Your pussy feels so tight."

She gripped the sheets, closing her eyes tightly as her orgasm overtook her. Her moans echoed through the room as he rode out his own release. They collapsed on top of each other, panting softly as they struggled to catch their breaths. She tilted her head up to stare at him with an adoring gaze. "That was amazing," she whispered softly.

He pulled her closer, smiling softly as he nuzzled her neck. "Don't get too comfortable there. I'm not nearly done with you yet."

She giggled as he turned her onto her back, pinning her under him as he crushed his mouth against hers and she knew she would be getting minimal sleep.

Epilogue

[haethcliffs]

@halechief.

you are... different. not my usual type. for starters, you lack the insecurity that drew me to beck, the free-spiritedness that put love in my crosshairs. you are... breath-taking. awe-inspiring. you are the quite possibly the smartest person i've ever met (met? well. you'll see.) and by god, you are... dangerous.

luckily for me, though, you are extremely google-able. no more hunting through finsta feeds (learnt that one off ellie) and no more trawling through facebook after facebook for the real you... i type your name into google, and you have a whole goddamn wikipedia. it's safe to say that i am a fan.

look at me — are you proud? i've shed my skin. i'm a new yorker in dc — surely that's some kind of oxymoron somewhere — no one ever leaves new york. but i did. for love. for you. for the total fucking knowledge that i am playing with fire, but you... you are the balm. i am free of that miserable podunk suburb, and i am ready. willing.

the office is quiet. studious. but alive. there are bulletins, posters, grubby pins handmade by the college intern i had to bump off the roster (sorry, tyler), and here i am!

allow me to introduce myself. tyler beckett. princeton alum. i am an amateur astronomer at heart, but working myself to the bone for the next great woman of the united states. i wear slacks, blazers, and never, ever worry myself with the do's and don'ts of college life. i went to princeton, for god's sake. debate team. sigma cum-whatever. i've worked on local elections before, but now — look at me, everyone! i'm in the big bucks. and despite how much i would truly hate tyler beckett, i think it's a good fit.

i like to think you've gotten to know me too. through the coffees, and the emails, and the never-ending fucking onslaught of bureaucratic bullshit i have to wade through just to get in the same room with you (honestly, how do you do it? i know this is your playing field, but it is fucking exhausting. i am exhausted. but i am just a small cog in your big political machine.)

and... action.

"morning, ma'am." you always say hi. because you are down-to-earth. because you weren't born with this power, you've earned it. you are a regular joe, as it were. look at me. trying so hard in a not-trying type of way. i'm not like all those other princeton freaks — frankly, i couldn't give a fuck about the political canvas of the city, but god, they're practically licking your heels just to get the mere morsel of acceptance.

"can i ask you something?"

[stackhouse1996]

I knew the feeling but not what it meant.

When we spoke when were young I knew you had my heart and you still did in 2020 and onwards. You're absolutely funny, you're the smartest woman I've ever met and you're make my melt everytime when you look at me with those big adorable dimples of yours and pretty brown eyes that remind me of a mountain terrain and nature, something subtle but beautiful in every form and every season.

I didn't know what that love meant later on, it's not like the movies or TV shows. Those are just couple hours at a time for a love plot and they only show the big moments or only what we want to see. Love isn't as simple as making this declaration of devotion and easy peasy there is forgiveness or reunion. People are more complex.

We got so caught up in the moment of finally having each other we didn't think about how too fast we were moving things. We didn't think about finances. I didn't hold up my part of the bargain with the car. We didn't think about the possibility of the clashing personalities of the independent woman and the recovering manchild bickering about something almost weekly.

Love isn't easy. Love is about communicating effectively with your person so they can have that net of emotional safety. It's about understanding what your partner explains to you that upset them and hear them out by validating their feelings and love them better in the future and do your best to not repeat those mistakes. Love is about patience. It's about having that foresight to talk to them effectively to solve any conflicts and not use anger to fuel an arguement because that loops into a circle of fights that tries to find the bad guy in each scenario. I don't want to do that anymore.

Love can't work if i continously blame other outside things and hold myself responsible. If I think about it more and more I can think of any excuse for any given situation " I didn't break the glass cup, gravity did!" or "the mop pad is dirty that's why I'm having trouble mopping!" Despite the fact just seconds ago it was mopping just fine. This behavior is something im still trying to unlearn because it's been deep rooted in my being for so long I genuinely believe I'm a bad person that deserves the worst if I admit that mistake instead of being defensive. Even as I'm writing this a part of me scoffs at the chance im actually a good person that can make a mistake. This behavior can be changed for the better. I will do what I need to heal mentally.

[jiminsproof]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU 😘🎉🎂🥳🎈🎊🎁 Probably the thing I hate most about tumblr is meeting someone who is the absolute coolest nicest funniest sweetest smartest person that I would absolutely love to hang out with and they have the audacity to live thousands of miles from me on the other side of an ocean!!! Natalia my dear, I hope you have the best day. Listen to Christmas Evel on repeat and annoy everyone around you. I love you so much 💗💗💗

APRYL 😭😭😭💗💗💗💗

Thank you so, SO MUCH 😭😭😭 I'm so grateful that we could become friends thanks to tumblr and I hope with all my heart that we'll hang out one day, as you're one of the most amazing, genuine human beings I've ever met!! And you always know how to improve my mood!!! 😭😭🩷 I love you tons!! 🫂🩷 OBVIOUSLY I MADE EVERYONE AS ANNOYED WITH MY KPOP TUNES AS POSSIBLE! Rule number 1 there is no celebrating Natalia WITHOUT HER CHOOSING THE PLAYLIST

SENDING SO MANY HUGS YOUR WAY 🫂💗

[antagonistchanremade]

Honestly the hardest part about babysitting my aunt’s cat for two weeks is how much I miss my own pets already

[j-nope-not-today]

I like you

TMNT Donatello x reader

I let out a small laugh and look back over at Donnie.

He had been staring at me for the past hour and every time I had looked he quickly looked away. I played it off and acted if I hadn't noticed, but I had.

I don't know why he kept staring at me I mean we were only friends and no one else was around. He had invited me over to help keep him company as he worked, but I was beginning to think he asked me here for a different reason.

When I glanced back over at him he quickly looked away. Busying himself with the tools and parts scattered in front of him.

"Why do you keep looking at me?"

"No reason."

"Liar." He let out a sigh and dropped what he was half ass working on.

"I wanted to ask you something, but I got nervous and said I brought you to keep me company and I-"

"Donnie!"

He stopped rambling and if he could blush I bet he would be right now.

"Just tell me what it is and I promise it won't scare me off."

I watched him take a deep breath before adverting his gaze from mine.

"I like you and I didn't want to tell you, because I didn't want anything to be weird." He finally looked at me and I smiled at him.

"Donnie..your the smartest and possibly dumbest person I've ever met. I like you too! I can't believe it took you this long to figure it out."

"You- what?" He stared mouth agape.

"The hints weren't even hints to be honest.." I laughed.

"He finally told me!" I shouted and watched at the door to his lab opened and his three brothers fell through the door.

"ouch get off!" I watched as they shoved each other.

"Wow I didn't think he'd ever figure it out" Mikey piped up picking himself up off the floor.

"You all knew?" Donnie pointed at them.

"Yeah we were waiting to see how long it would take you to figure it out." Leo brushed the dirt off of him.

"Your not the brightest person when it comes to girls." Raph laughed.

I laughed with them and Donnie sat there in disbelief.

"How could I not have known?"

"Maybe you were blinded by your own self doubt." Mikey spoke and we all stared at him.

"Wow even Mikey is smarter than you." Leo joked and I stood up and shooed them out of the room.

"Okay you can pick on him later!" I closed the door.

I turned back to Donnie who I hadn't heard stand, but was now stood before me.

"Well I guess I have a lot to learn and research still, but maybe we could-"

"Just kiss me you big nerd."

He let out a small snort and I laughed with him before pulling him down to me and placing my lips on his.