#pocket picker

[aurelion-solar]

Legends of Runeterra: Glory in Navori - Jack Followers Angel - Five-Punch Pablo - Mako - Bull - Nukkle - Mad Ol’ Babs - Pocket Picker - The King’s Court

[microwavepopcorn]

[wildbillslighters]

Speaking of tax stamps. I’m pretty fascinated by them, especially on lighters. The oldest pieces in my collection have European tax stamps, in fact.

Two from my collection of rope/wick lighters are particularly old. Both have French 1911 brass stamps. That makes them antiques at more than 100 years old, but I digress …

In France during that time period, all lighters exported had tax stamps applied. This particular stamp with “1911” was used until about 1916 when the style was changed to more of a dog bone shape. I have some of those, which I’ll share in a future post.

One of these lighters is a traditional rope lighter, also called a sailor lighter. Sometimes they are referred to as “trench lighters” or “foxhole lighters” but I don’t think those names are appropriate for this style. (We can debate that later.) The lighter works by striking the flint like normal but the spark starts the wick smoldering. There is no true flame.

The other one has the rope mechanism but also a fuel reservoir as shown in one of the photos. So it can be used to smolder or to produce a flame.

I have a decent collection of rope lighters acquired from a friend in The Netherlands who bought them as part of a collection. The previous owner lived in a fishing village and my storytelling brain likes to think he traded for them with sailors coming into port. I have no proof of this but it entertains me to consider.

[akkpipitphattana]

saving our country’s reputation is crazy

[planetdream]

AN EVENING IN THE WOODS !

CHARACTERS ! werewolf!bang chan, human!reader

GENRE ! horror/thriller but barely, smut [minors dni]

WORDS ! 3.3k

SYNOPSIS ! on a drunken game night, you're dared to take a little stroll through the woods after rumors of a werewolf lurking through the town.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! more thriller than horror i think. mentions of alcohol. being chased/stalked; mentions of being 'kept'. reader desc. wearing long skirt + called 'good girl'. smut [dubcon(?)—reader is basically being used. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possessiveness. [rough] sex in the woods. monsterfucking ig. large cock channie <3. pussy eating. facefucking. cumplay + creampie. belly bulge oops. dumbification(?) growling..] used the word 'beast' a lot oops. it gets weird idk

💌 ngl...i think i forgot how to write smut u guys... this is partially inspired by a brief part in house of leaves by mark z. danielewski, but like, not really at all iykyk. anyway, as u kno, i always appreciate feedback <3

There’s a big difference between vampire hunters and werewolf hunters. The creatures are different from each other in both ferocity and nature; thus, the study and hunt of them will differ based on several factors. Hunters of said creatures are expected to know what to do in situations in which they are faced with such foul beasts. You, quite frankly, are neither a vampire nor a werewolf hunter. Inexperienced to the point where you couldn’t begin to imagine what you would do if faced with anything that is such a monstrous terror, let alone a werewolf. Yet, here you are, prancing around the cold forest like a delicious piece of meat, praying that you don’t cross paths with anything—man or beast.

About a month ago, men and women alike began disappearing from town in the late hours of the night, not to be seen or heard from again. In the following weeks, numbers of missing people have only risen, leading many to believe that there might be a serial killer on the loose. That, however, was only until word got around that a town drunkard had seen what he could only describe as a ‘terrifyingly large rabid dog’. ‘It had to be about six feet tall just standing there’, he said, swearing solemnly, even vowing to quit drinking in an effort to portray his seriousness. The man wept, “It was one of them werewolves. I swear by it.” 

Only from there did word travel through the town. Though, no one believed the drunk old man, laughing at his testimony—‘A werewolf? In this town? That’s impossible’—some treating it as some fable, or a game, even. Which is what leads to you, alone, in the woods tonight. A fun game of truth or dare with your friends—being a chronic truth picker, tonight (with a little liquid courage) you decide that you want nothing but to humor your associates, you chose dare—turns into you blindly making your way into the dark forest with nothing but a lamp, pocket knife, and a few neon stickers to help you make your way back; and that’s only if you’re not murdered. 

By the looks of it, the surrounding forest is empty. The only sounds come from the rustling of tree leaves mingling together due to the wind, the sounds of birds squawking in the far distance, and the snapping and crunching of twigs and leaves beneath your shoes. You trek your way through the trees and dirt extremely unnerved. Nothing has happened at all, and although you’re thankfully still alive and breathing, making your way through the clutter of trees and dead wood, you cannot help but be a bit frightened about the dreariness and uncertainty of the situation. 

It’s a cold night, predicted to snow a bit; temperature dropping lower and lower with each hour that falls. The sun had set a while ago and the purple-orange hue leftover has now faded from blue into black. And while the stars are beginning to show themselves—pristine and beautiful—the dark sky only adds to the dreariness of your walk through the forest. The sudden additional silence is eerie, nature has stilled completely. Although the echo of stillness is inexplicable, unusual; it comforts you—knowing that you would hear your assailant coming, should you come close to being attacked. 

When looking at your watch, you find that you’ve only been in the forest for fifteen of the required thirty minutes—it’s very possible that you can go the distance, turning on your heels and deciding to make your fifteen minute walk back to the edge of the dark forest; and most importantly, to safety. After all, your friends must be worried about you by now; maybe even surprised that you’ve really stuck to the dare. In a matter of minutes, this will be all over and you will be resting at home.

You had to have been walking in one straight direction, right? Maybe because it’s dark, and you, admittedly, have drunk quite a bit, but the placemarkers you remember sticking to the trees along your path are nowhere to be found. The light of your lamp shines against tree after tree, but they remain in their natural state, unchanged. Your eyes widen, heartbeat increasing as you look at the leftover placemarkers you hold in your hand, only six remaining of your original twenty—so you know you’ve used them. 

You stop in your tracks, not willing to venture any further than you already have. Mind racing, scanning and assessing all the possible things you can do, slowly slipping into a panic. You could scream as loud as you can, vocally expressing your need for rescue; but how likely is it that you’ll be heard, especially given how deep into this unchanging landscape you are. Perhaps you can continue walking ahead, only praying that you make your way out unharmed—after all, safety should have been just a fifteen minute walk ahead.

As you lift your foot a few centimeters off of the ground to make your first step, through the darkness of the forest and out of your peripherals, you swear you see a large shadow for just a split second—lurched over and next to a thick tree to your right. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder as you realize the presence of this creature; intimidating and dominant. Taking no chances, feet hitting the ground hard as you sprint through the woods, doing your best to escape this nightmare; real or otherwise. 

The action of running when you feel like you’re being chased, versus running because you are being chased, are quite similar. It’s all instinct, a gut feeling that you jump on, increased heart rate; it’s choosing to flee rather than to fight. The difference, in this moment, you realize, is the definite risk of getting caught. The consequences could prove to be unsatisfactory, at the very least, if you were to be caught by whatever it is that may be following after you. Although, looking behind, there’s nothing in sight—no sign of disaster nor danger. You continue along, albeit a lot slower than before, attempting to catch your breath a bit. Walking off trail just a bit to slow down and assess your next course of action. 

The snapping of a twig within your vicinity has you darting from the temporary hiding place. However, the predator is right on your trail, persisting in its hunt for flesh. You weave your way through the woods, brain firing off about escaping quickly without harm. The chase does not last long, though. One misstep taking you down, tumbling. Briefly, in your panic, you appear to meet eyes with the foul beast. Fear lodged in your throat, dry and brittle—crumbling into tiny little pieces that pester your insides like a million tiny beetles finding a dark, cavernous home. Stomach clenching, seizing as you cower in submission to your terror. Hands buried into the freshly fallen snow—previous footsteps already blanketed over and long gone. Never have you thought you would give up so easily; unsure if you’ve got it within you to fight back in the absolute worst case. 

Body stuck in place, paralyzed with fear once you hear the snow behind you crunch, a sign that the creature is inching closer to you. It’s like your life flashes before your eyes once you feel the snout of the creature pressed against the back of your neck, heat blowing against the back of your neck, followed by a short, deep snarl emitting from within the beast. The large presence behind you is undeniable. The way the creature towers over you is horrifying—a domineering and overbearing sense of power, exuding pride and strength in the form of body heat. It circles you, though you are too terrified to look towards it, despite the daring growl it emits. Heart racing, nearly about to jump out of your chest and run away itself. The creature begins to circle around you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see its feet—huge black paws. Oh great! You’ll be eaten alive. 

But then the feet of the beast turns into man, and slowly you raise your face to get a good look at its true face. He starts off as a blur initially, but the longer you look at him, the more recognizable he becomes. A face you’ve always seen lurking around town. Though despite the area being rather small, you’ve never formally interacted—only stared at each other from a distance then kept it moving. Tonight, however, you finally decided to walk up to him at the local bar whilst with friends, only for him to walk away without a word. ‘Oh, him? Yeah, Chan is just like that.’

“Mmm. What’s that smell?” Chan asks while humming. Arms caging you in against the tree as he presses his nose against your neck, right near a particularly sweet spot. “Smells heavenly. So sweet and delicious.” 

He continues to sniff you out, planting a small kiss to your neck before traveling lower, nose now pressed to the fabric of your clothing. Face pressed in between the valley of your breast, Chan takes a long, deep inhale. His eyes are closed as he pulls back, slightly smirking with clear contentment. Chan takes the material of your shirt pinched between his fingertips before tearing the shirt down the middle, groaning at your now exposed chest. His hands cup your tits, thumbs teasing at your nipples, as he runs his nose down the valley, before swiping back up with his tongue. 

Chan isn’t done, nose still pressed against your skin as he sinks down to his knees. Rough hands cupping your ass, squeezing, as he stops—nose pressed against your mound, breathing you in while trying to pull you closer, finally finding the source of that sweet, heavenly scent. He’s breathing heavily to the point that you can feel his hot breath against your skin through the thin material of your skirt; snarling as he takes in your scent. And he’s mumbling something down there—pussy hungry words about how fucking delectable you smell. Perfect to devour. 

Contrary to the petrifying circumstance, the rush of adrenaline you get in the moment is euphoric and exhilarating. Chan’s touch is hot against you, almost scorching, and leaves you wanting—no, needing more of him. 

He hikes up the long length of your skirt with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder to force your hips towards his face, diving face first into your cunt. Tongue lapping up hungrily at your wetness, moaning and groaning without a care in the world as he gets the first taste of his meal. Plump lips sucking your clit, vibrating when he moans, causing you to shake and squirm, but Chan has a strong grip against you. He’s messy as he eats you—occasionally breaking free, not for air, but to spit against your cunt—as the lower half of his face is covered in your nectar; which he hopes never washes off, absolutely frenzied by your scent, cock hard and leaking cum, jumping at the thought of finally getting to fuck his cock into this sweet little cunt. 

While Chan is usually a patient man, having no problem in waiting—stalking his prey and then teasing them for hours upon hours on end—he finds himself struck with need. A particular need to feast. To fuck and destroy his prey. Days and days of stalking you, taunting you from afar, and you played right into his palm—obviously fated to be found afraid and lost, deep in his territory. It is at this point he thinks to keep you. Perhaps hide you away somewhere cold and dark where only he’d be able to find you. Keeping you bound to him until he gets sick of you—or until you cease to exist. Aching to fuck you over and over and over again until it becomes too difficult for you to even think about moving a muscle, succumbing fully to his torturous pleasure. He stops himself from thinking too far ahead all too soon, clearly entranced by the sweetness of your cunt. 

Chan springs to his feet; cock heavy, hard and curving to the right, tip swelling red with need and dripping with precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock as you watch him massage his right hand over it; even in his big palms his cock is huge. The excitement to take him spreads from the pit of your stomach and up your chest, visualizing into the form of goosebumps all over your arms. He just laughs at the look on your face; how equally intrigued and dismayed you appear. A perfect little lamb stalked and caught by the big bad wolf, unable to flee due to their own fascination despite their fright. 

Chan leans in, his lips against yours briefly. A hand curling into your hair to bring you down to your knees, you follow suit. His hand stays tangled in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp. With his other hand, Chan strokes his cock, running his thumb over the tip; then pulling your head towards his tip. Eagerly, your tongue slips from your mouth, ready to taste everything he’s giving you. You swirl your tongue around him, but Chan has other plans, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth; helping you savor the slightly salty taste of his seed. Fixing your mouth open as wide as it can go, with both hands now tangled into your hair, he thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, slowly increasing the speed of his thrust. 

“You just take it like a good girl, huh?” You don’t say anything, but that dazed look in your eye and the moan that escapes from deep in your throat tells Chan all he needs to know. 

“Perfect little mouth, but I bet that pussy is even better.” Chan frees his cock from your mouth with a trail of spit. His hand around his cock once again, the slick sound like music to your ears. Though, it’s at this point that the cold air is starting to get to you—the snow is light but still continuous—yet you power through it for just another taste of Chan. 

“Want you so bad,” You bite your lip, looking into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed together. You stand and stretch to turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your backside towards him like a bitch in heat. Chan smirks at you, a small laugh erupting from him at the sight of your shamelessness.   

In the heat of the moment, Chan licks the palm of his hand before bringing it down to rub at your cunt from behind. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear a long, deep snarl come from within his chest. The closer he gets to you, the louder the growl echoes, and the more he warms you with his body heat—caging you in against the tree. You grind into his hand, greedily taking anything he gives you. While Chan is steadily becoming just as impatient as you, he always spares time to play with his food; teasing the tip of his cock against your slit. Chan slowly slides into your cunt—a rough hand clenching onto your hip, nails digging into your skin; not nearly enough to keep him from losing his cool as your wetness encases his cock, wet and tight. 

You’re barely taking half of his dick before the stretch of it nearly becomes too much—but he’s one step ahead of you; arm snakes across your belly and down to your cunt, two wet fingers ready to play with your clit. Chan works his fingers against your clit slowly winding you up, all while planting a quick kiss against your shoulder; tongue drooling out to lick a long wet stripe against your neck. It’s only once he receives a moan from you in response that he starts thrusting into you slowly; the thrusts of his hips syncing with the movement of his fingers. 

It isn’t long before you’re taking more and more of his cock, being stuffed and stretched deliciously. Cunt leaking and begging for more of him. Chan lets out these harsh growls and grunts that contrast with the pitch of your moans. His nails dig into your hips, using a minimal amount of strength to pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrusts. His hips smack against your ass roughly, cock stretching you further, but your cunt swallows every inch perfectly. That’s only until he slides out of you, wordless, yet, still letting out a snarl. He pushes you onto the ground, hands and knees crashing into the new layers of snow. You yelp out in response, but Chan can only laugh at you. 

“Just letting me push you around like this? I think I should keep you,” He follows you, kneeling onto the ground, cock in hand. Laying  a quick smack at your ass, he hums. “How would you feel about being my little plaything, huh?”

His free hand kneads against your ass while he plays with his cock. “Keep you locked up with me ‘n only let you out in these woods at night, hmm? All cute ‘n naked for me to hunt down and fuck again.”

“And you can’t even hide cause I’ll always find you, pretty.” He finally slides into your cunt, still not letting you have all of him, yet. “How does that sound? Do you like it?”

His words are filthy and so are his touches but somehow he’s got you entranced. You let out a loud, cracked sob of a yes in response to his inquiries as if he bullied it out of you. “Good girl.” 

Chan finally allows himself to break—hips snapping harshly into yours. Not caring if you go limp from the way he’s fucking into you, instead his hands are once again clenching your hips, grinding his hips against your ass whenever he thrusts his cock back into you. Your fists clutching onto the snow as you take his cock, unable to do much but drool and mewl for him. 

He presses his chest across your back, caging you onto the cold ground. His tongue once again flat against your skin, licking every inch of what exposed skin he has access to. Still pounding into you as he chases his impending orgasm. Then he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, letting out a whine rather than the usual growl as he fucks his cum into you. It’s hot, sticky, and heavy—and it seems like it’s unending; seemingly producing more and more as he pumps his cock into you. Slowly Chan reaches a hand down to press against your lower abdomen; feeling how your belly swells with all the cum his cock is feeding your cunt. 

You moan at the feeling when Chan pulls out of you with a sigh of exhaust. Cum coating his cock and spilling out of your cunt, staining your thighs. So much of his seed has spilled out and he’s no longer stuffing you with his cock, but yet you feel so full. Chan continues to incite, two thick fingers dip into your cunt to scoop up and play with the excess cum that’s dripping from your hole. 

Chan pulls you back to him by your arms, caging you against his chest. He whispers to you. “What if we played a fun little game, hm?”

He grips your chin and those same two digits that were once inside of you, force into your mouth, offering you another taste of Chan’s cum. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “Let’s say, I give you a ten second head start to run.”

Chan kisses the back of your neck and a chill runs down your spine. “The ten seconds start now.” 

He frees you from his hold, and springs to his feet leaving you dumbfounded. But by the time you stand and face the direction of Chan, legs weak and cold, he’s no longer there.

It seems his fun little game has officially started. 

© PLANETDREAM 2024

[midnitetech]

Hi everyone! My new mod is ready, offering 90 custom interactions that let your Sims earn money in exciting new ways!

With Simoleonz Side Hustlez (SSH), Young Adults and up can register via a computer under Career, even if they're employed. They'll then be able to start Home Hustlez—20 tasks that they can pause and resume anytime on their PC. If you cancel a task, a Hustlez in Progress option appears to finish it later.

Sims can also download the SSH app on their phone for Micro Hustlez—quick tasks like surveys for small payouts. Then there’s Neighborhood Hustlez with 20 rabbithole jobs in the community. Lastly, enjoy Seasonal Hustlez with 5 new jobs for each season—Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter.

Teens and children can use the Pocket Simoleonz app on their phones during weekends, with 10 tasks to earn extra pocket money!

I hope you love it! Everything is neatly organized into pickers—no messy pie menus. Plus, custom notifications after each task let you know exactly what you've earned.

Required: 💾 Lot51's Core Library ⛅ Seasons EP 

Patreon

(free)

[randomshyperson]

Teddy Pickers - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: In the rare quiet time in the lives of fugitives, you and Wanda play a game of questions. It's like that old saying: There's always a peaceful period before the storm. Or could it be that this time, the storm has already passed?

Warnings: (+18), soft and almost entirely a smut chapter, making out, dirty talking but they are actually just playful and dorky with each other, more shapeshifting stuff, hints of PTSD and trauma talk, some self-doubt from both, mainly fluff and hurt/comfort | Words: 4.845k

A/N-> So I had two chapters ready but I hated them. I had to rewrite the whole thing because I was unsure where to take this story. I'm all on my supercorp era again and I was taking this to a very angsty line and I don't want that. So I changed and gave them peace and quiet instead. Also, I can't wait to write jealous hormonal mess Wanda in the next chapters! A good reading for you all!

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

You woke up to her nightmares.

Still groggy from sleep, you rubbed your eyes and forced your body to react to the figure murmuring softly beside you, her face contorted in discomfort. At some point during the night, Wanda let go of you, snatched almost the entire comforter, and then began to dream.

And apparently, it wasn't a good one. It surprised you a little that you were affected by it, but you made a mental note of Wanda's impressive ability to emit a magical aura even in her sleep. That might explain why her room was set apart from the others in the tower.

Your touch was gentle on her face, and you called her softly until you woke her up. Wanda jumped a little, opening red, frightened irises until she realized she was just having a bad dream. She barely recognized your presence, and already pressed her face into your collarbone, breathing deeply against your skin.

"Are you all right, my love?" You asked after a moment, stroking her hair as her breathing returned to normal.

Wanda sniffled, and your heart broke. Your reaction was to look for her eyes, to reassure her, but she wrapped her arms tightly around you and wouldn't let you move away.

You sighed before adding: "It was just a bad dream, my little witch."

But Wanda sniffles again, this time pressing her face into your chest so that she can speak.

"It wasn't just a dream." She mumbles upset. "I was remembering... Pietro."

A lump forms in your throat. You swallow. "Oh, Wanda... I'm so sorry."

"It's all right." She hits back immediately, without moving a muscle. She continues to hold you as if she feels you'll disappear if she lets go. "It's been a while since I thought about that day. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You certainly shouldn't worry about how I'm going to feel about this." You retort firmly. "He's your brother. You can cry all you want. I'll be here to hold you."

The words make her shift immediately and press her face against your body where you can feel new tears wetting your pajamas. But Wanda doesn't cry for long - she falls asleep again, her limbs locked tightly around you, and even though the position gets a little uncomfortable after a while, you don't have the heart to push her away. Especially since, after a while, her nightmares return and the magical aura is strong enough for the memories of the past to shine through your eyes.

You sigh, adjusting yourself to kiss the top of her head and settling her so that she's completely asleep on your body - which changes a little, growing just enough for Wanda to have all the soft hold she needs. She smiles unconsciously, tightening her embrace before falling back into a deep sleep. With the softness of her expression, you are reassured to know that the nightmares are gone, at least for the moment.

You try to fall asleep, but your ear picks up the soft vibration of your work cell phone in your jacket pocket hanging from the chair in the bedroom. Your body tenses during every ring, until it finally relaxes when the device goes silent. 

Work is calling, you know. Just as you know you can't run away forever.

Hours later when you wake again, it’s for rays of sunshine slipping the curtains and chaste kisses on your collarbone. You smile immediately.

"Morning, little witch." Your sleepy voice makes Wanda raise her eyes to you, her lips never leaving your skin. The soft scratch of her nails on your stomach makes your muscles twitch. "You're up to mischief, I see."

Your teasing makes her chuckle hoarsely, her hands climbing further up your pajama top and exposing your torso almost completely.

But instead of starting another trail of kisses, she sat up straight against your hip and waited for you to open your eyes.

"You change in your sleep." She declares as you stare at her, still awake. "Did you know that?"

You nod, and Wanda raises a curious eyebrow. She has a joke on the tip of her tongue about how the hell you knew something if you were asleep when you explain; 

"I used to be monitored twenty-four hours a day when I was a child. To prevent any minor detail from slipping through the records and interfering with the research."

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, absorbing your confession for a second. She could count on her fingers the few times you had mentioned some random detail about your life before, and it took her by surprise. Almost everything she knew came from the Avengers' archives and carried technical and military analysis. She heard very little from your mouth.

"You never talk about your past." That's what she manages to answer because it's a fact. 

You offer her a small smile, your hands moving to reach her thighs on either side of your hips. 

"What would you like to know?"

Wanda sighs, her hands resting on your shoulders. "I'll listen to anything you want to tell me."

Your smile is tender, almost shy. Wanda likes it when she makes you blush, especially since you have the ability to conceal these reactions from her, changing and commanding your body according to your wishes. Even though you don't do it so often because you trust her.

What a thing. One of the world's greatest criminals blindly trusting an Avenger. She could actually feel very cocky about it.

"I have an idea." You then declare, your fingers playing with the edges of her shorts. Wanda stares at you expectantly, but you almost lose your train of thought at how deliciously beautiful she now looks. The slightly tousled hair, and well, the legs around you, and eyes that beg for everything but conversation. "Let's play a game."

"What kind of game?"

"A game of questions, of course." You retort good-humoredly, adjusting yourself a little to sit up straight. Wanda lets her hands fall to your lap. "Two truths and a lie. Traumatic childhood edition."

Wanda lets out a giggle, pinching you gently for the derogatory joke. You just smile at her, almost completely distracted by the sound of her laughter and the comforting feeling that moment brings to your chest.

"I've never played that one." She says after a moment. "What are the rules?"

"It's very simple. Each person states three facts, but one of them is false. You have to find out which one. The winner is whoever gets it right the most times, although I've just realized that playing something like that with a telepath isn't very fair." Wanda slaps you in a joking manner at the insinuation that she was going to cheat, getting a chuckle from you.

"I'll start then." She then states, assuming a thoughtful expression for a moment. You bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to kiss her cute face and pay attention to the game. "With respect to the theme you've chosen, I grew up in a two-room apartment in the Sokovian countryside. When I was little, I could play the piano. And... I love to cook."

You hum thoughtfully, loosening your grip so that one of your hands goes to your chin. The whole theatrical expression makes Wanda giggle, her cheeks flushing with the way her stomach feels full of butterflies. 

"I say the first one's a lie."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Why?"

Your expression changes to one of almost conviction. "Because you grew up in Novi Grad, the Sokovian capital, and not in the countryside. And I have to say, it's very bold of you to assume that I haven't done my homework on you, Wanda Maximoff."

Wanda feels a wave of warmth hit her body and spread with your words. Or perhaps, the way your eyes shine in a way that hides meaning. She allows herself to imagine for a moment your figure in the same clothes you wore when she first met you, frantically going through files at night to learn everything you could learn about her.

It reminds her a little of herself, days after your first encounter, how even though Wanda tried to be as secretive as possible, casually asking about missions in which you faced the Avengers, or reviewing mission files on the pretext that she was studying, Natasha realized what she was doing right away.

Clearing her throat, Wanda looked down, a little embarrassed. "I did the same. With-for you, I mean."

 You smiled, looking at her with an almost impressed expression. "Oh, really? I'm flattered."

"Shut up." She giggles shyly in response, but you, despite chuckling too, insist more firmly;

"No, really. I think it’s quite romantic."

Wanda frowns slightly. "What, being obsessed with each other?"

"Yes." 

"You have problems." She retorts in a false seriousness that makes you smile before Wanda swallows dryly at the way your gaze is focused intensely in her direction. The tension that rises is almost too much for her to be able to say anything else. Yet, she tries with a husky voice. "You got it right. The game, I say."

You nod, smiling. Your open palms on her thighs go up inside her shorts, and Wanda holds her breath for a second. But they only serve to make a gentle lever and pull Wanda closer by her ass, and she bites her lips at the new position, very aware of the warmth on her cheeks and neck.

"My three facts are as follows, Maximoff." You begin, your dark gaze on her previously bitten lips for a moment before focusing on her eyes again. "I was a laboratory experiment all through my childhood. I really like you." Wanda smiles, scrunching her nose adorably. You get momentarily distracted, gaze falling to her lips again. She catches your eyes, a smirk cracking on her mouth when she leans in, subtly asking you to break the distance. End the game. When you manage to talk again, your voice is barely a whisper; “I’m allergic to peanuts.”

She chuckles, arms interlocking behind your head. Wanda mutters a joke, something about keeping an eye for the food, but you firm your hands on her thighs and bring her closer to press your mouths together. It’s a hot kiss - charged with all of your naughty intentions. She lets out a soft moan when your tongue slides on hers, slow and sensual. But suddenly, Wanda breaks the kiss with flushed cheeks and a curious gaze on her eyes.

“Wait!” She asks breathlessly, to which you stare equally affected but expectant. “Your file did have peanuts listed as allergy.”

Damn, you thought you could win that one. A little grin starts to form on your lips, but Wanda narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Someone really did her homework on me, I see.” You tease, leaning in to go back to kissing her, but she evades your attempt, eyes shining a little dangerously.

“If the food was not the lie, and I know for a fact that you were an experience most of your life… Then the lie-” You wanted to laugh at the hidden panic hidden behind her eyes. Honestly, this woman.

What was she even thinking? That you would let her down in some game while having her on your lap? Hours after telling her that you love her?

It should be a hint enough that you’re smiling, for Wanda to realize there’s a joke there. But somehow, she grows more insecure. Her eyes flash red for a moment before and it’s a clear warning.

You just chuckle. “It’s all about semantics, darling.” You explain because it looks like Wanda might cut your head off if you don’t clarify exactly what lie you told. “I don’t just like you. We’re not in middle school. I love you, remember?”

The tension visually leaves her shoulders, but something else happens. Her cheeks and ears grow hotter and Wanda is once more a flustered mess, feeling pretty much like a shy middle schooler because you’re talking about feelings.

You think she’s beautiful, so you tell her that too. “God, you’re beautiful.”

She giggles coyly, kissing you because that’s all she can do without making a fool of herself. Well, if you keep rubbing her thighs under her shorts like that, she’ll probably make a fool of herself anyway, considering how she gets patheticly overwhelmed whenever you touch her.

For a while, you just made out. Slowly and passionately with wandering hands and panting kisses. It’s just nice to feel each other, to hold each other. It’s also very hot to feel Wanda rubbing herself on your lap until the soft friction is not enough.

She bites your lip when that happens, her hips more impatient and frantic against your thigh. All you can do in return is firm your hands on her waist, helping her get what she wants, what she needs. And Wanda stops kissing you because all she can do is moan in return for the time being, quite aware of the wetness dripping down her shorts.

She starts whining into your mouth when she’s close, and it’s too much for you - How can Wanda expects you not to fuck her properly when she’s doing that? - Your hands flip her over in a heartbeat. She barely has time to protest for the interruption of her previous, and desperate motions, when you’re all over her. Groping your way into her clothes, tearing it apart, and taking more eager sounds from her throat.

And Wanda, she’s such a tease. Dark dilated eyes shining with mischief and begging you to just fuck her. The way she lets you strip her out of her clothes, and how she slightly opens her legs, rubbing her ankles behind your kees, inviting you to just-

“Fuck.” You pant for the image in front of you. Wanda bites her lips, one of her hands finding its way to her soft breasts, fingers teasing the hard nipple like she doesn’t mind the slightest that you could lose your sanity to such a sinful gesture.

But Wanda is getting impatient too. The hot knot on her belly is making her dizzy. You’re making her dizzy.

“Need you so bad, detka.” She meowed, her hips arching into the air, allowing you a clear view of her drenched pussy. You can see how wet she is, smell it, yet, a true confirmation only comes when you use one of your hands to press her back into the bed while your free fingers find her warm entrance. Wanda cries out when you enter her, but she’s so hot and so tight, that you have to pull out before pushing two fingers in again and again, stretching her out while she struggles to breathe. Her thigh muscles twitch when your thumb finds her clit, every drawn circle against the hardened bud rips a new throaty moan out of her. 

When she’s close again, impossibly tightly against your fingertips, throbbing, you hum pleasantly, your free hand gripping her waist to take control of her uncoordinated movements. Wanda cries out when you force her into your fingers, reaching deeper now and too good for her to hold back, so the hot knot on her belly explodes without warning and she arches her back, twitching and choking on a moan before going limb on the mattress. You keep fingering her gently, prolonging her orgasm until she complains about the overstimulation with a tug on your wrist. 

You pull your fingers out but not kiss her as she would wish - Instead, you lean down and her dizzy expression falters into a gasp when your mouth finds her cunt, tongue licking every drop of cum you just manage to get. Her natural reaction is to back away, she’s sensitive. But you grab her thighs, find your place between her legs, and start to eat her out like you’re starving. 

“Oh God…fuck-” Her choked moaning mixing in English and Sokovian is music to your ears. Her eyes close on instic, because it’s too much and somehow not enough - Your tongue is teasing her, playing with her clit but not using the necessary pressure she needs. She just came and you barely started and Wanda is ready for more, painting for more.  One of her hands finds your hair, a strong grip that works like a warning. Yet, she says or at least tries to, since it sounds a lot more like a whine than anything else: “Stop teasing.”

To be fair, she could probably ask you anything at any time, especially now. While dripping so sweetly into your tongue, clenching and begging for more. You hum accordingly, ending your tease when sucking on her clit. Wanda screams. Loud enough for other people to hear, that’s for sure, but none of you cares about that. Not now, probably not never.

She can’t hold longer after that, not when you’re doing everything to get another climax out of her, fingers finding her pussy again to help your tongue. It’s so messy and sloppy and nearly desperate. Your own underwear has been bothering you for a while now and Wanda crying out your name is definitely not helping with that.

It’s not a surprise that when she comes, the room shudders a little. Wanda’s not being careful, she’s too gone for that now. Little were the times when she didn’t, couldn’t, hold back herself, her magic. The energy flows to her veins like the heat spreading under her skin when she orgasms and it’s breathtaking and overwhelming and she’s coming so hard that she can’t hold anything back. A wave of warm magic explodes around, her red irises open like her mouth in a silent scream, and it’s beautiful. Wanda is perfect, and she’s all yours. 

She only realizes she ripped the sheets when you move back to her and the bed makes a noise that forces her to notice the room. Such a mess she made. Someone will have to pay for bedroom fixing.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you witchy?” You tease fondly about the whole setting, the new crack on the window, the little sparks of her magic that still flow around. Wanda sighs satisfied, her hands finding your face when you’re close enough. When she kisses you, her taste is there and she can only moan at the dirty of that act, how you suck her tongue like you’ve sucked her clit a few minutes ago. 

Wanda doesn’t break the kiss to move her hands lower, groping your still-dressed figure and only now realizing how that is actually torturous.

“Hmm, I’ve been so selfish, milyy (darling). You must be needing me as well.” She mutters between one kiss and another, and you’re almost so distracted by her new dominance over you that you barely notice her hands. Barely. You follow her lead, resting your back on the bed so Wanda can hover over your body. Her fingers move under your shirt, scratching the skin and giving her a nice time feeling you twitch. The way she looks at you is also a lot to handle without shaking.

Suddenly, Wanda pants, eyes diverting to your chest. “Oh, hello you two”. She doesn’t mind your shyness, shamelessly groping your boobs under your shirt. “I missed those.”

You chuckle out of breath, pulling your shirt off while Wanda just stares and plays with them. “I can’t believe you just talked to my boobs.”

She squeezes, pulling the tip until it’s hard under her touch. You bite your lips, to keep your sound under control but you can feel a new wave of warm wetness spreading towards your lower belly. 

“Well, I’ve missed them. It’s been a while, since, you know, you actually had those two.” She so casually talking about it, it’s not that you mind that, but she’s also touching and squeezing them and you’re way too horny to have a conversation.

With very warm cheeks, you try to anyway; “Hm, they usually stay in the way of the job.” Wanda leans down, forcing her head between your breasts, muttering something like so soft and she’s such a dork that you have to chuckle. “It’s just extra work to find the right clothes and then changing every time I need a new face and matching body.”

Despite her clearly interest in your chest, Wanda is listening as she lets you know with a hum of knowledge. But then her mouth envelops one of them and it’s just too much for you to focus on anything else but the feeling of her tongue. You pant to the ceiling, shaky fingers gripping her hair, telling her to keep going but Wanda is such a teasing brat. There’s a small ‘pop’ sound when her mouth lets go, and a trace of saliva still connects your nipple to her lips before Wanda goes for the other one. You squirm a little under her, blushing intensely because she’s such a tease and apparently wants you to beg for it. 

She takes no pity on the ache between your legs; When her mouth leaves your breast again, she has this mischievous sparkle in her eyes that makes you gulp.

“I think I’m a little obsessed with them.” She tells you, giving your tits another squeeze, a little harder this time.

You gasp. “You think?”

“Huh-huh.” She replies, nodding. “You had it on your first night together. Then never again until today. It’s because you miss me sucking them, malysh (baby)?”

You roll your eyes at the words, teasing words evidently. The little cocky smirk that almost makes you go back to being the one in charge. To be completely honest, Wanda was always the one in charge. Even when she allows you to be on top. 

“You’re mistaken, Maximoff.” You retort her while giving her a gentle tug on her thighs, to bring her closer because you really need some kind of pressure between your legs. Wanda doesn’t have to be a mind reader to get the hint - Her knee finds your middle as she straddles your thigh, and she doesn't mind hiding her grin at how you let out an affected sigh at that. “I also had them when I first met you.”

She frowns a little, scrunching her nose in a thoughtful way. You are about to clarify when her knee moves away for her hand to take the spot. And well, you can’t think of saying anything, coherent at least, with Wanda finger’s filling you up so nicely. She seems to be enjoying herself as well - Watching attentively at every strangled noise that escapes you with the consistent pace inside you.

But suddenly as if remembering your previous words, she gaps: “Oh my god, you’re right!” She says, somehow her excitement brings her deeper inside of you. All you can give her as a response is a whine. “You were pretending to be one of the gala’s hosts right? The.. damn, i can’t remember his name-”

“W-wanda..” You meowls, the heat is too much. The way she just keeps pumping in and out of you, and talking about something else as if turning you into a whining mess is nothing, actually makes you throb. 

Wanda just smiles, ignoring your protest to the conversation and quite satisfied with the growing wetness she can feel on her fingertips. “Oh, I remember it now. The host only had daughters, so you did your part. Also one of the few times I saw you in a dress, baby. And what a view that was.” She leans in, whispering soft praises into your ear while you struggle to breathe. It takes you over the edge quickly, and Wanda is rewarded with the sweetest whimper once the knot in your belly explodes - One of your hands grabs her wrist, to keep her there as if she ever thought of leaving. Your hips jerk a few times as you ride the last waves of your climax and Wanda watches all of it, as breathless as you, truly mesmerized by the scene.

When you can breathe again, there are green irises staring at you with adoration. “Hi.”

“Hi you.” It’s your tender reply, and when Wanda leans in to kiss your lips, she can feel your smile. One of your hands moves to her face, gently caressing her skin. Once the kiss is broken, you talk first. “I love you, Wanda.”

You sound so vulnerable, so true, that she swallows. Her gaze focused on your eyes. It’s almost like there’s more to add, at the same time, as if the confession meant even more than just caring about someone. Wanda remembers the first time you said, how you mentioned that she was the first person you ever said that to, and somehow she understands it that it meant that you trusted her very deeply. She bites her lips, withdrawing her fingers from you. She doesn’t miss the soft sigh that escapes you, but she says nothing to that. Wanda is busy taking your wetness to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. The image is enough to bring not only a strong color to your cheeks but a dark shine to your eyes.

You are ready to break the distance again when knocks on the door break the bubble you two are in completely.

And Captain Rogers's voice from the outside of the room kind of breaks the mood entirely. 

“Hello? I’m… sorry to interrupt. I just need a word. With everyone. Please, huh, join us downstairs?” You and Wanda hide your giggles - The Captain was obviously flustered to call you two, especially judging by the noises Wanda didn’t mind to restrain, probably everybody knew what you two were up to. And it was definitely Natasha’s idea that he was the one who called; the widow was having some fun with her friend's clumsiness.

Wanda cleared her throat, unwillingly taking her attention from you to the door. “We’ll be right out, Steve.”

Once the sound of his footsteps became more distant, Wanda kissed you again. She seemed determined not to move away from you.

-&-

Sergeant Barnes was in Wakanda, undergoing recovery.

When Steve mentioned the country, he looked directly at you, and that was enough for you to know that whatever the king had told him about your adventures there, the captain was on the monarch's side. Not that it mattered all that much.

Consciously or not, while Steve was updating the team, you discreetly scratched the scar you received the last time you were there. If you concentrated, you could remember exactly how painful it was to receive the Wakandian words for thief on your skin.

And seeing the heroes of Earth around you, with inside jokes and personal stories, made you feel very out of place. As if they too could see the scar, even if it was covered by an oversized sweatshirt now.

You swallowed dry and took advantage of the fact that Natasha was finally telling everyone what had kept her busy for the first few weeks on the run, to slip away towards a snack machine.

Wanda followed you with her eyes, aware of all your reactions to the conversations. She just wanted you to feel at ease with the others too, but she knew the opposite feeling well. She was once new to the presence of the Avengers, and they could be rather intimidating. Even the friendliest of them. Maybe it was a superhero thing.

You were deciding between the first and third row when Natasha caught Wanda's eye again. She wanted the witch to be paying attention to the conversation, it seemed important.

The widow took a deep breath. "I never told any of you this, because I thought it was in the past. But... I have a sister. Her name is Yelena Belova and-"

But the news and the shock had to be left for later. A bang from the other side of the common area interrupted Nat's story, and the whole team stood up.

You had just shoved a person hard enough to break the glass of the snack machine. But the attacker's exclamation of pain made you let go immediately.

The masked figure pushed you back harshly, but you laughed in amazement. 

"You weren't supposed to make a scene, you idiot." Complained the woman, massaging her sore shoulder due to the impact. She barely had time to regain her balance and half the Avengers were in fighting position, one particular witch making her take a step back, hiding in your protection.

You acted quickly, gesturing to the heroes to stand down, before throwing one of your arms under the smaller one shoulder.

"Relax, everything's fine!" You declared happily. You tugged at the combat mask she was wearing, revealing the unknown woman's face, which caused her to elbow you, which you ignored. "Meet Layla El-Faouly, my business partner."

The curly-haired woman forced a smile and waved. Wanda was the last of the team to drop her attack position.

-&-

A/F/N-> If you haven't watched Moonknight, please do. Layla El-Faouly is simply incredible. I can't give away too many spoilers for those who haven't seen it, but she's also a thief and a really skilled one. It would be a waste to have an international thief reader who didn't know her.

[vibingandsimping]

hi there~

Would you mind if I request ascended and non ascended astarion falling for a very timid and innocent girl? Like his complete opposite. She's just so sweet, and caring, and pure. I like to think he spots her from his castle as she's picking flowers or something. Decides he just has to have her.

If not it's totally okay. I just saw your head canons and really enjoyed them

(I focused on ascended Astarion because I thought it fit him a tad more.)

You were a constant in his routine. When he first acquired the palace as his own. Every morning he’d spot you in a nearby field through the window.

You were a pretty sight. A natural beauty, he reckoned, though it seemed you knew how to enhance your pleasant features. A little makeup never hurt, after all. It was almost a ritual to open the blinds and watch you after his breakfast. He admired you from afar as he adjusted to his newfound position and power. He grew his spawn following and his confidence in himself. Astarion could have anything he wanted. He had everything but you. What was stopping him, really? You’d be so much prettier dressed in his clothes and in his walls. A wolfish grin spread along his features and he turned with newfound interest.

You were walking home from buying goods at local stalls. The sun was cresting over the hills and leaving an orange dew on the land. You’d make it home before night, you thought to yourself, as you walked the streets. It was the bounty of spring. A truly fruitful time for crop-sellers and a flower picker such as yourself. Flowers were versatile. Teas, decorations, jewelry… really, if you put your mind to it you could make anything of them. They were only one of your interests, though. Lost in thought you didn’t notice the stalker in the dark. One of Astarion’s spawn sent to capture you. Capture you they did. Hands locked around your front and mouth as they drew you from sight. All but a basket dropped on the ground as evidence. You didn’t even have time to scream.

Next thing you knew was the ornate halls of the palace. Ushered by the spawn into a throne room. Sat was a pale man with even paler hair yet eyes so striking your throat dried. He smiled at the sight of you and closed the distance with careful strides. He presented a flower from his pocket. A scarlet rose, you recall, and held it for you to take. You swallowed thickly, plucking it between finger and thumb. He grinned deeper at that, taking it as an invitation. “I’ve watched you for some time.” He began and your eyebrows raised in shock. Who was he? “I believe this will be much easier if you just submit, darling. I’ll take care of such a precious flower like you. I’ll give you everything.” His eyes betrayed his poised demeanor. They had a hunger in their depths. One that made you shiver. You couldn’t say no. Not with the bruising grip of your kidnappers assistant. You were caught in the jaws, unknowingly prey, so you’d lay limp and play along.

Who knows? Possibly this could be an arrangement that works well for you. If you decided to remain blissfully optimistic.

[rainybyday]

Flower shop au continues 

Gotham, usurpingly, had a lot of crime. Already he can hear an explosion down a couple blocks away and tripped a pocket picker from trying to rob him. It was sort of nostalgic to hear the chaos of destruction again and had to restrain himself from trying to transform and see who is causing such chaos. 

He reassured himself that once he manages to set shop, a peace can come. 

It didn't take long for him gain a property near the Gotham graveyard, an old, abandoned thing that no one used. Walls still intact but wallpaper pilling off with creaking stairs and holes in the floorboard. Furniture in pieces and a smell of decay wafted all over the building. 

The graveyard was even worse with rusty metal fences and broken-down gravestones with dried up weeds and dying willow trees. Only a few of the hundreds of graves were well kept and clean 

For a place that has such a high death rate, they really never took great care of their deceased. 

But Danny sighed and got to work. 

In a week he managed to clean his two-story shop with the help of his ghost abilities. He managed to work through a couple of nights to not only replace all of the flooring and walls, but he managed to repaint and clean the whole first floor. He decided that the second room should be an actual green garden room and replaced the roof and wall with screens. There were rows of beds filled with soil, growing vines wrapped by his hands on wooden pillars and many pots of baby seedlings yet to uncover themselves from the blanket of rich soil they are buried in. 

It took two months to finally finish his new shop and another few weeks before the scent of flora wafted through the building. The store front wasn’t bright, dark tones of green and gray that seemed to fit the Gotham esthetic were painted on instead. The inside, however, was filled with shelves of flowers and vines crawling the walls and bean bags and chairs that were scatted all over. There was writing on the walls of names of people with markers near them. Then in the back there sat a counter with bags of dried flowers and scented candle sticks. If you look to your right, you can see the open stair way that will lead you to a jungle of greenery and peace. 

Danny’s store was complete, and he was happy with it. 

The first few weeks not many people came, in fact, no one came but that didn’t bother him. Instead, he filled his day with a schedule of sorts. In the morning he would clean and care for his plants around the store before weeding and picking flower petals to create dry flowers for teas. He would spend his late afternoons expanding his garden outside his shop for more flowers to grow before closing shop once the sun sets. It was at night did he grabbed on a hoodie and as many flowers he can carry and walk towards the graveyard leaving tokens for the dead. 

Danny can tell that the dead, that Gotham, was suspicious of his attention to give a token to each and every grave. In fact, he can feel the creeping sensation of fear trying to use intimidation on him to get out plenty of times from the aura of death that surrounded the graveyard. But it felt like mere child play for him, and he kept coming back to leave tokens of flowers to those who pass. 

By the time he met someone on his daily rounds towards the graveyard, the sensation of death and fear lessened, and the suspicion turned to a curious cautious feeling instead. He wasn’t welcome, not yet, but he was no longer pushed away. He didn’t think he was at the point of being allowed to meet one of Gotham's people, but he didn’t show his surprised when a man in a suit was watching him place flowers from the well-kept grave he was standing next to. Danny gave him a single glance before looking away and continuing his work elsewhere. He learned from experience not everyone wants someone around them when they are visiting their loved ones, so Dany respected the man by giving him space. 

It was when Danny was walking back to that again place, he first spotted a bundle of flowers near the grave the man once stood. When he got there, he breathes in deeply at the choice of flowers before place one of his own and walking away. 

(Louts flowers, Lewisia's, and Hyacinths.)

(Resurrection, new beginnings and rebirth, regret and sorrow)

(Maybe that's why the grave felt so empty, he thought distantly.)

Surprisingly, the next day, he saw the same man again out in front of his shop. Danny invited him in and ask what he would like. 

And the man only said he was visiting his son. 

So, Danny gathered a bundle of Primroses, Crocuses, Hyacinths, Forget-me-nots, and Buttercups.

(Primroses for youth and new life. Crocuses for children. Hyacinths for playfulness and energy. Buttercups for childness and youthful joy. Forget-me-nots for remembrance.)

The man walked off and Danny enjoyed the sensation of having a new customer. 

Slowly more people came, mothers and fathers and grandparents and siblings and families and lovers. Slowly they all came in his shop and were blanketed by the scent of flowers. Most would ask for a bundle of flowers before leaving for the graveyard, but a few would come back and stay in the shop and take in the peace of it all. He would usually offer them tea (which no one has yet to refuse after taking their first sip) and leave them to thoughtlessly wonder through his store. Once a customer asked why he had names written on the walls which he replied they are the names of people that passed away and their loved ones left behind a message for them on his walls. 

(It wasn’t a lie since Danny did have a message for each of his ghost friends he left behind at Amity and the Ghost Zone.)

The customer asked if they could leave a message as well and Danny replied by handing them a marker. It soon became a trend that spread throughout all his customers who would now ask for a marker first instead of him taking their order. 

Slowly, Danny was fitting in with the eyes of Gotham no longer cautious but inviting, even soothing in a way. And slowly, so ever so slowly, if you listen just right you can hear that the screaming of the city became just a tab bit silent. 

Danny was, ever so slowly, bring peace to Gotham’s land. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to know that one day the land can breathe again. 

Then one night, when he was just about to close shop, the bell of his shop’s door rang as some opened the door late at night. 

Another continuation later one: Pt3

[inbabylontheywept]

"The reaper had a scythe. I have a combine harvester."

Arlach tapped his fingers nervously. He’d have gladly given up his life for the liberation of his people. A combine harvester (even a deluxe AI driven model) was a pittance compared to that. Still, he didn’t really understand what he was hearing.

“I uh… heard you’re hooking up my strawberry picker to an air defense cannon?”

The human technician assembling the gun held up a hand, finishing up some last tweaking of the wire harness. He touched two wires together carefully and swore when a shower of sparks shot out of the contact.

Set back, but not defeated, the man paused his task to answer the farmer’s question.

“See, you’re looking at this wrong. It’s an AI harvester, and it works great for strawberries, but machines don’t really see ‘strawberries’. They rate strawberry-ness. There’s a lot of ways to manage that, but it looks for a generally pointed shape, some seeds, and that nice red color. So your run of the mill strawberry generally receives an almost perfect strawberry-ness score, but something like this-”

His hands dug through all the pockets of his work suit before they finally found their target. He fished out what had been a standard ferroslug before it was painted bright red and smattered with a handful of black dots. He took a moment to admire it himself before tossing it to the farmer and continuing.

“Well, it’s not a strawberry, but it scores as one. Well enough that the machine gets positive feedback from its alignment unit every time it puts one of these babies where it's supposed to go.”

Arlach stared at him blankly.

“So what, you’re convincing it to fill a cargo container up with painted bullets?”

The technician grinned.

“There's no a limit to how fast it's allowed to fill that container up. At no point did the alignment protocol even consider that it'd be capable of throwing a 'strawberry' at mach nine. And the cargohold is important, but the rocket its attached to is more so. You know what looks a lot like a surface to orbit rocket?"

Arlach’s brain clicked.

“The hypersonic missiles they've been throwing at us.”

The grin widened. Arlach himself felt slightly awed to have found the connection.

“Will it work?”

The human nodded.

“It’s damn near the only thing that can. To shoot down something going that fast, that low, you either need a dummy missile that can brute force outrun it, or enough computing power to hack a station. The alliance is too chickenshit to send over their actual military AI's, but these myopic-type digibrains are supposed to be safe for civilian use because the idea of convincing your tractor that a bullet is a strawberry and a WMD is a cargo loader was a little too creative for the morons over at John Deere Galactic. And if that digibrain just so happens to function near the exoflop level, they're going to have a hard time sneaking anything larger than a bee through this airspace.”

The alien’s hands went over its crest as its mind reeled.

“They're not the only ones who would never think of this. It's brilliant. I never would've considered it.”

The tech shrugged good naturedly and went back to retrieve the two ends of wire that he’d dropped earlier.

“Eh, it's not coming from nowhere. There’s something of a human tradition about using farm equipment for war. I'm just lucky to be part of the next evolution in this. The reaper himself only used a scythe. Now I get to use a combine harvester.”

[bon2bonn]

Flowers

Carlos Sainz X leclerc!reader

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

✨Pt.4✨

Words count : 4.2k.

Warnings : grammar, cursing, blood, Pickering siblings, overprotective brothers, crying, hospitals, arguing , fluff, Arthur being a menace, description of injury? .

*You can read "pt.1 here" , "Pt.2 here" , and "Pt.3 here" .

* aaaand we're done!, flowers 🌼 is officially done , see you in side chapters/drabbles or life updates ?? , don't be shy to say what you think or request if you like to ✨.

Hours later she finally comes to , flinching at the bright florescent lights blazing at her eyes and adding to her growing headache . taking a moment to adjust before she tried to turn her head around in confusion but winced once she tried to move it the slightest . She carefully reached up , finding a thick bandage covering her temple and her left arm is secured in a cast all the way to her elbow with her fingers peeking out .

Now that she looked at the white room around she noticed how it's overly clean and smelled of disinfectants , the bed felt stif and uncomfortable , yup , she's in a hospital room , not knowing how or when , because the last thing she remembered was her head spinning , blood on her hand , and distance shouts and then darkness .

She closed her eyes trying to rid her mind of the flashing images then looked to the side slowly , smiling at the sight , her Mama along with Arthur who had his face squished as he leaned his head on her shoulder both passed out on a couch beside the door , Enzo was on a chair beside them too engrossed in his phone to notice her being awake .

It didn't take long before he turned it off , pocketing it while standing , before turning to glance her way , she gave him a tired smile with a quite "hi" , he returned it absentmindedly " hey" before opening the door and walking out , she watched in mild amusement as he quickly came back in , slamming the door as he rushed back in to her side startling their sleeping family in his haste , both sprinting up to stand , eyes wide and overly tired . About to give him a piece of their mind , but he quickly apologized pointing at her , as she watched the scene with a wide grin as they all stood staring at her stunned .

"Hi" she said again with a faint voice , but a bit louder , and it didn't take long before they came to their senses, taking turns in hugging her as tightly as they could minding her injuries , all shedding tears as they finally felt a huge weight lifting off their chest as she's awake and talking.

Enzo stepped out to notify the doctor , Arthur took it upon himself to fill her in on what happened while she was out . apparently a drunk was having too much fun that he stole a car and went berserk on the street , took the wrong turn and slammed into them , the driver got out with way less injuries than her and the bastard got out without a scratch on him , he only passed out and was arrested about two hours ago but that didn't last long .

when she asked in confusion about what he meant he told her " well , Charles and Carlos crossed ways with him , and they did some work on him before the police could hold them back " her mother went on " they're locked outside until the police could take the man out to proceed with their work after he's cleared enough to leave" , Arthur added in a sarcastic tone " at least he was in the right place to get a beating" earning a snort from his sister while their mother pinched him for his words , he looked at her offended holding his pinched arm in false agony before adding quietly " they bonded over it while almost getting themselves arrested " , that got his sister's attention but the doctor came in along with Lorenzo in toe before she could ask about what happened to them , taking her attention as the doctor asked her some questions checking her coherence and memory , checking vitals before he gave her a quick rundown of her injuries .

A broken arm that required a cast for couple weeks or so , a concussion from the impact of her head against the window that caused the gash that required some stitches , which explained why her head aches and the nausea , some bruises on her side that'd take time to heal fully and that's about it . Promising that She'll get discharged in a couple of days just to be sure they missed nothing with the check ups and scans, he made some notes to dose up the painkillers now that she's awake , she thanked him before he left .

Turning to Enzo with a concerned look " where's Charlie and carlos? " He sighed as he brought the chair closer to her bed to sit down on " still locked out" frowning at her deflated look , he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze " you scared the light out of me " Arthur supplied as he made himself comfortable at the foot of her bed " you should've seen him earlier , he looked like he aged ten years" she huffed a laugh trying to lighten up the somber atmosphere " what do you mean ? He's always looked like that " the eldest glared at them both before he cracked a small smile as they kept on teasing him, their mother sat back finally taking a breath after a long dreadful hours , all night she was waiting and praying for her daughter to be alright , for her to wake up and return back to them . Now here she is laughing with her brother's and trying to lighten their worries.

Not long after a gentle knock sounded on the rooms door , their mother stood up and walked to see who , exchanging a warm greeting and a nod " yeah , she's awake" before she stepped aside opening the the door wider to let whoever stood outside in .

Carlos stepped in , she noticed the same tired look up on his face hair messy from running his hands through it in stress, and a fresh bouquet of her favourite flowers held in his hand as he reached her side in seconds , putting it on the side as he leaned over taking her hand in his , slipping his fingers through hers as he brought it up to plant several kisses on the back of it , holding it close to his heart relishing in how warm it is in his hold compared to hours earlier when she was first brought into the room , he leaned up with his forehead against hers both relaxing as they're finally close again .

Their mother signalled for the brothers to step out , both disagreed but got a scolding glare that got the oldest to comply but the youngest refused, acting as if he didn't see causing Lorenzo to drag him out by to back of his shirt in a quick movement not giving him time to react , closing the door behind .

" Hi" he finally breathed out , too overwhelmed to voice anything yet , she gave him a smile as she greeted back " hi" voice still croaky but she was more than happy with him there beside her.

Moving closer he pressed his face on the crook of her neck , letting her hand go to close his arms around her in a delicate but much needed hug for both of them , his voice muffled as he kept his hold on her , trying to ground and assure himself that she's okay " mi Vida , I was so scared " she hummed in understanding, cradling her fingers through his hair in attempt to comfort him " me too mon cœur , I thought I was going to ......" her throat closed up as tears clouded her vision causing him to lift his head, wiping away the falling tears , he planted a long loving kiss on her lips to comfort her spiraling mind , letting her fist his shirt in a tight hold , it's her way to calm her racing thoughts and making sure he's there with her for real , he held her fist with one hand running his fingers on the back of her hand and using the other to caress her cheek with tender touch , but their tranquility was ripped as she glanced at his bruised knuckles startling him as she quickly grabbed his hand gently inspecting the assaulted area in concern "your hand!" , he tried to look nonchalant but his anger boils again as he remembered the smug look on the drunk bastard's face " it's nothing a pack of ice won't fix " avoiding her scolding glare but she wasn't having any of it , " you shouldn't go around punching people " he huffed bowing his head down to nestle it back on her neck mumbling " Arthur snitched, didn't he ? " She leaned her head carefully on his with a laugh " he always snitch , you should've expect it " he shrugged" at least he was already in the hospital " only to groan as she lightly smacked his shoulder with her good hand , but smoothed it after as she asked in a hushed tone reaching for his injured hand " does it hurt?" His shoulders relaxed and his face softened from it's frown looking at her fondly as she inspected it again for a moment before giving his knuckles a light kiss " I should be asking you that , mi amor , you're the one in a hospital bed " she assured him " I'm okay, the painkillers are doing wonders " .

He hummed with a knowing smile turning aside to retrieve the bouquet on the side watching her face lights up in glee as she beamed at him , holding them with a wide smile as he handed her the bouquet, moving to the table below the window on the other side , retrieving an empty vase to fil with water from the adjacent room that she noticed now was a bathroom before coming back to her side table taking the flowers out of the wrapping and carefully arranging them as she taught him before , and stepped back once he finished , hands on his hips as he asked proudly " what do you think? " She teased him with a shrug " not bad , still needs improvement but eh " he gave her an offended look " aaahhhhh, don't lie Hermosa, I did it just like you " she looked away " not even close !" He rolled his eyes leaning down to prep quick kisses on her cheek ending it with one on her lips as she turned to face him " you should take some rest " she refused even when a yawn slipped out " but I just woke up " , with another peck on her pouting lips he argued " I know , but you're still tired and your headache will get worse the longer you're awake " , convinced with his words she asked " will you stay ?" , nodding he took her hand in his after he brought the empty chair closer to her side sitting on it and leaning on the side of the bed leaving a last kiss on the back of her hand "for as long as you want and need me to " watching her drift in and out before she finally fell asleep , him following right after her .

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The door cracked open with Charles peeking his head this time , silence greets him as he found them both asleep , he braved himself to step in and take a seat in couch trying his best to not disturb their rest as he sat back and took a glance at their sleeping forms . His sister's hand holding onto Carlos outstretched one as he leaned on the side hunched over the chair with his head beside their locked hands his position wasn't comfortable for sure but his content face proved otherwise.

His sister's face was finally relaxed, if it wasn't for the bandage covering her temple and the cast on her arm it would've looked like she's taking a nap after a long day , not confined in a hospital bed with a broken arm and concussion .

Now he felt truly helpless as he let the events of the night before settle in , he almost lost her, his only sister , almost gone and he wasn't even there with her , he wasn't the brother she deserved to have because he let his pride and anger blind him from considering what she went through because she was scared of what he'd think , and he proved her right all along, he failed to fulfil his promise, he could've lost her and their last memories are him screaming at her before walking out on her , not sparing her a chance to listen . thinking that by opposing her being with anyone he was protecting her from a heartbreak , but in reality he was the one hurting her the most .

How everything he was mad about seems so insignificant and irrational now when he looked back with clear mind , guess that life have it's own way to set things back .

Shuffling from the bed caught his attention as Carlos shifted on his chair, carefully lifting his upper body up while keeping his hand still , holding his breath as he carefully peeled his hand out of hers , positioning it to lay comfortably on the bed instead, he let a breath of relief as she wasn't disturbed by his movement and leaned to leave a light kiss on the top of her head , moving carefully from her side he acknowledged charles presence with a nod , approaching his hunched form as he made his way to the door.

" How is she ?" Charles asked in a hushed voice still looking at her sleeping soundly, Carlos looked back at her before giving his friend a tired smile " she's still shaken up but she's too stubborn to let it shows , but she'll be okay" , Charles nods then leaned his head on his hands, his mind still in torment of what to do ? What to say when she wakes up? That if she wanted to talk to him in the first place, but a hand on his shoulder snapped him out " it won't be easy to get through this unless you're there with her " Charles looked up in defeat " what if she doesn't want me to ? " , " that's unlikely to happen , she'll always need you , but you'll never know unless you talk to her , just remember what we talked about , those possibilities and what if's aren't worth wasting time on when you can try working on mending things with her " he left Charles with a squeeze on his shoulder, stepping out leaving him to brave himself one more time.

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Not long after , she woke up again, this time with less confusion and a lighter headache than before . the room is quiet and she thought she was alone until she looked at the couch beside the door again , this time finding Charles sitting there with his head still on his hands , and before she could stop herself she called out " Charlie? " , his head snapped up and even from her bed she could see how tired he looked, hair disheveled and eyes red rimmed, a sob slipped out as she called him again, he stood quickly rushing to her side trying to find what's wrong as he asked in alarmed voice " what's wrong? , are you hurting? , is it your arm !? , please tell me what's wrong ?" Her sobbing only increased as he kept helplessly asking her , she frantically grabbing his hoodie's sleeve as he turned to call for a doctor to see what's wrong , he turned back to her taking her hand in his trying to calm her down , but she kept crying " you're here" .

His body tensed as he asked in a strain voice " you don't want me to?" She shook her head frantically gripping his hand more " No ! I want you here ! , I thought you wouldn't come, I thought you........ I thought you wanted nothing to do with me anymore" his shoulders deflated, eyes welling up as he shook his head " no , I would never . I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said that night and I was too angry to think right, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you back then , I thought I knew what was best for you but I only drove you away " her tears kept falling as she shook her head " I sorry too , I should've told you everything, I thought I was doing the right thing , I was just scared of disappointing you but I only made everything worse" now both their crying could be heard from the hallway as their family stopped outside on their way back, all halting to let them talk it out , Lorenzo held Arthur back as he tried to reach for the door to get in " no you're not" but the youngest protested " he made her cry , again ! I'll just smack him in his empty head " their mother scold him in a stern voice " Arthur Leclerc , there won't be any more fighting in this hospital, one child in the hospital is too much for me !" He backed down in guilt apologizing .

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Back inside the both calmed down enough, both suiting Buffy eyes faces red from crying hard , they looked at eachother before bursting into a fit of giggles at how miserable and disheveled they both looked, and after a moment she asked hesitantly " Charlie?" He hummed at her to go on " can I get a hug?" He nod when his voice cracked " yeah" wrapping her in a much needed hug minding her arm when he scoot closer , feeling her hand clutching the back of his hoodie tightly and her tears came back but he kept holding her as she asked " are okay now?" , he tightened his hold in assurance " we're more than okay" , releasing her after she finally let go , he wiped away her tears " I missed you " she gave him a tired smile " and I missed my annoyingly idiot twin " he huffed at the insult but didn't argue back .

" I'm still not over how you're dating my teammate "she nudge his shoulder " admit it already, you're just jealous he's dating me , not you " side eyeing her with a sassy voice " lies and deceptions , we both know I'm the better twin " she scoffed at him " rude!! " But he ignored her and kept talking " at least it wasn't Max " groaning as she cackled at his annoyed face " so I guess....... " He paused as she tilted her head waiting for him to go on " I'll give him a chance , just because he makes you happy I won't run him over on track next race weekend " he rolled his eyes as she let out a cheer at his words swatting away her poking hand but stopped when he saw her brows creased in a frown as she huffed " not you too" his confusion cleared as he followed her eyes to his now bruised knuckles attempting to hide it but winced as she pinched his arm hard enough for him to jump back from another one aimed at his ear " aaahhh! , what was that for? " She glared at him the best she could " for you running around punching people!" He argued heatedly " he deserved it!" , dodging as she went to chuck a spare pillow at him , exclaiming dramatically " stop ! Why are you trying to hit me ! I already have an injured hand" , she snapped back " and who's fault is that ?" He quickly answered " it's Arthur's fault! " The mentioned brother stood dumfounded at the door frame , jaw dropping as he was accused pointing at Charles in bewilderment " I did nothing! , It's your fault you marched to the guy and swung at him !" Charles pointed back at him " after you pointed him out to me! " , " I didn't!".

They went back and forth shifting the blame on who's fault is it , Carlos and Lorenzo stood back watching as Pascal ignored the Pickering brothers heading to her daughter's side , both paying them no mind , Enzo clapped Carlos on the back " well , I guess it's time to officially welcome you to the family . good luck , you'll need it with those three idiots" he stepped in trying to separate the two as they kept swating eachother before his sister snapped from her bed " Enzo , he just got here , don't scare him away " Carlos chuckled at them as he closed the door after him , stepping closer to her side taking her hand gently " don't worry mi amor , I won't be going anywhere" .

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The garage buzzed as mechanics swarm in and out preparing the cars and equipments before they need take them out , both drivers stood to the side after they finished putting their suit's on Carlos stood with his hands behind his back looking smugly at Charles who rolled his eyes at him arms crossed in irritation, tempted to reach out to smack the smug look off his face , but his sister's glare kept him put , but he won't keep quiet about how displeased he felt when she showed up wearin his teammates number instead of his " you're a traitor " she looked at him with a side eye " I'm in Ferrari's garage, wearing Ferrari's merch from head to toe , what else do you want!? " He kept his unimpressed look " it's not my number on it ! " , not giving him a chance she nonchalantly asked " and ? " A look of betrayal took over his face as Carlos starts cackling beside them " that's it ! Arthur is my favourite now! He won't betray me , where is he ? " Looking around for his , she held back her laugh as she tried to keep a straight face " at least I'm here , your favourite is at the McLaren's garage" but failed as he stood wide eyed before them " you can't even trust your own blood these days ! , I only trust Enzo! He won't let me down " moving to head out to the McLaren's garage next door to drag his youngest brother back , leaving the couple behind as the shared a knowing look " should we tell him? " She shook her head at Carlos's question " he'll lose it he knew " thinking back to the facetime call she had with her brother earlier, him watching the race back home wearing a Ferrari cap with Carlos number instead of Charles.

Taking the quiet moment carlos brought her close with a hand on her waist, the other held a single flower that he gave to her before wrapping the other arm around her too , watching her face breaking into a wide grin , light dimples on display that he didn't hesitate to kiss , leaning his forehead on hers " you look breathtaking mi Vida "Giving him a teasing smile " i always looked like this " he hummed in agreement pumping his nose with hers " even more so when you're wearing my number" relishing in her laugh as she gave him a quick kiss wrappin her arms around his neck to bring him closer " well , it happened that it's my favourite number " running a hand through the back of his head " but I like the driver more " earning a smirk as he gave her a peck on the cheek " I heard he's a good driver , no?" She only hummed " one of the best , on and off track " he ask " how so ?" , she answered with a wide grin " he brings me flowers, hold my hand , takes care of me , puts up with my annoying brothers and respects my mama , and I looooove him " he startled her with a deep kiss leaving her out of breath as he hid his face on her neck " and he love you too , more and more everyday day " both lost in their small bubble until someone called him to go over some final notes , he gave her an apologetic smile before reluctantly letting her go with a final kiss wither wishing him luck and a safe driving, watching as he was swept away . her twin brother not far behind doing the same but stopped as she came up to wish him luck , rolling her eyes as he came back to her again , taking his cap off shoving it on top of her head , feeling accomplished before he was dragged out .

[ellieswifie]

matt sturniolo sfw alphabet headcannons

𐙚 head cannons!

authors note: heyy i hope you all enjoy this abc sfw matt headcannon. this is based off this request from @iammattswife. im excited to make a chris sfw too if anyone wants one! thank you for reading enjoy!!!

a- affectionate (how affectionate are they? how do they show this affection?)

knowing already how much matt cares for his family, i swear he’d be so affectionate. he’d just simply do little things like send you cute messages in the morning, or tell you have beautiful and amazing you are, just to remind you that he does care and love you.

b- babies (do they want a family with you? how good around kids are they)

yes! matt would absolutely be an incredible dad. he just seems like he’d be so gentle and loving if you were pregnant with his kids ugh. he also wouldn’t rush the thought of wanting kids with you if you guys were married. he’d sure bring the idea up every once in awhile, but he’s not too pushy about the entire thing. bro if his kids got his blue eyes, i’d be dead.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how often do they want to cuddle?)

matt would love cuddling. he’d want to cuddle during movies, just laying in bed together, after filming, or even just during a random afternoon. he’s definitely a little spoon, or big spoon when he knows you need to be held, but he’s totally a big teddy bear.

d- dance (do they like to dance with you? are they good at dancing?)

matt is the best dancer. justin’s words, not mine. if you guys are sharing airpods, or have music playing off each others phone or speaker, matt would just love to dance around with you. maybe it’s in his room, or the kitchen, or even in the parking lot after a kate drive. he’s always dancing and is willing to dance with you whenever.

e- effort (how much effort and energy do they put into your relationship? like dates, gift giving, anniversaries, bdays, etc.)

matthew sturniolo puts so much effort into your relationship. he’s making sure you feel love me and comfort all the time, and he spends hours planing dates. okay maybe not hours, but he spends a lot of time thinking on what makes a good date a good date. he doesn’t seem like someone who’d plan big parties or huge dinners, so when it comes to birthday presents or anniversary gifts, he tries to keep it low key and simple, but so meaningful. which i find so sweet.

f- fights (how do they handle fights?)

if you have any short of attitude or a tone towards matt, he’ll probably give you space. he has his mattitudie moments too, and doesn’t necessarily want to anger you more by trying to reason with you, but if something is really bothering you, he’ll definitely just want to talk to you.

if you guys had gotten in a argument about something together, the story would be a little different i feel like. he’d definitely not want to stay up all not pickering about something in, so he’d sleep it off, then immediately talk to you about it in the morning, reasoning with you. matt is so gentle and genuinely looks like he cares, even when he disagrees.

g- gratitude (how grateful are they in general? are they aware of what you/significant other is doing bc for them?)

oh matt tells you he’s so grateful for you everyday. he makes sure your more than aware throughout the day, even if you aren’t exactly with him.

h- hand holding (when/how often do they like to hold hands?)

now we know what matt isn’t super on pda, but if you guys are in public together, he’s always holding your hand. in his pocket, at his side, behind your back, it’s always shuttle but comfortable.

i- insight (how easily can they read you? mood, feelings, tone, etc.)

i feel like matt reads body language easily. so if your like sloppy with your words or talking less, he’d probably ask if your okay because he reads these things.

j- jealousy (do they get jealous? if so, how easily? how do they deal with it?)

i feel like jealousy isn’t a issue in your relationship. matt isn’t like a pussy boyfriend who wines and cry’s when a guy looks at you. he definitely would trust you aren’t that type, and he trusts himself in not cheating. if he does get a rush jealousy of some sort, it’s probably because of some fool.

k- kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they kiss you? where do they liked to be kissed?)

probably amazing. he’ll definitely love forehead kisses and innocent neck kisses. maybe some on your hand or cheeks.

l- love language (what is their love language?)

PHYSICAL TOUCH!!! matt is definitely the type of boyfriend to be touching you all the time. in the car, his hand placed on your knee or thigh. in public, your holding hands. during dinner, his foot is creasing yours under the table. he’s just naturally a physical touch boyfriend.

he’s definitely words of affirmation too.

m- mornings (how are mornings with them?)

lazy, but absolutely perfect. matt seems like he’d wake up early, but i feel like if it’s just you too laying in bed, you guys are laying in bed all morning. just holding each other and talking about cheesy things that need to get off your chest,

n- nicknames (what pet names/nicknames does he move to call you?)

oh matt’s calling you practically everything. babe, baby, beautiful, love, pretty, princess, your name ofc, etc. now he for sure mentioned bubba wubba isn’t on the table, but we know matt he’s lying.

o- open (how open to their feelings are they to you? when did they say they i love you? do they mention everything all at once, or wait to reveal things slowly?)

it would take matt awhile to completely come to his senses that he has someone to talk to. yes he’d be very straight forward how he feels, but it wouldn’t take him immediately realize and say it, he’d for sure need time to open up, but when he does he tells you everything.

p- patience (how patient are they with you? how easily angry do they get?)

matt would be so patience with you. if your having trouble getting something off your chest, he’s holding your hands assuring you

q- quality time (what do they do with quality time with you?)

most likely matt’s cuddling with you in his free time, or doing something crafty. like coloring or building legos, i’ve just got a cheesy feeling he’d do that.

r- rhythm (what songs/song reminds you of them?)

omg if you like taylor swift, you remind him of almost every single song. i know he mentioned taylor swift before, but like i have a feeling he’d just listen to a song you like from her on repeat because it reminds him of you.

if you don’t like taylor which is fine, you probably remind him of a frank ocean song (definitely godspeed or ivy), miguel song ((ALL I WANT IS YOU) love this song omg), or practically any mac miller song.

s- security (how protective are they when of you?)

he’s definitely more protective of you than you are of him. the sturniolo fandom is all over the place and he doesn’t really want his relationship interacting with weird and disrespectful fans. so he’ll try to distance you from car videos and on tour. when you are in a video it’s probably only for a few minutes in a vlog or a short mention.

t- tough guy (how tough are they around you?)

as chris likes to say matt is the tough guy, but when he’s with his s/o i know for a fact his tough guy shell breaks. he’s more like a little baby wanting love and comfort, then a big intense guy.

u- upset (how do they act when their upset/tired? what helps them feel better?)

we’ve all seen matt’s attitude. he can be mean, but he’s not the big bad wolf. he’ll definitely distance himself from you so he’s not getting angry at you for something he did, or even cranky with you. i think

v- vanity (do they care about how much makeup you wear or not? do they constantly care about what you wear?)

matt probably loves when you dress up and will constantly tell you how beautiful you look, but he won’t expect it out of you every day nor does he care what you wear. he wants you to dress comfortable while feeling yourself.

w- wildcard (a random head cannon for character)

weirdo head cannon but head scratches. i’ve got a gut feeling that matthew would absolutely love his girlfriend scratching his head through his hair with her nails. the two of you will be laying on the couch or his bed, him sitting in between your legs while you watch something off his phone and scratch his head. it’ll for sure probably be a stress reliever for him.

x- explicit (nsfw headcannon)

idk.. do you guys want one?

y- yearn (what do they do when they miss you?)

always texting and calling you. he’d probably send silly snap chat vlogs, or gifs to let you know he misses you and can’t wait to talk to you in person again. he also definitely calls you before bed too to wish you good night and to remind you he loves you.

z- zen (what makes them feel comfortable and calm?)

you. and your presence.

[unsoundedcomic]

I get the feeling that Tittybird and the Man (this sounds like a detective show) made a much more sophisticated change to the world than her story to Sette really let on. Is that true?

Of course. Sessine wasn't going to explain the intricacies of it to an unlettered Sharteshanian pocket-picker. Sette got the yadda-yadda version.

Heck, it took her long years to teach the fundamentals required to do it to her man-friend, and he was no slouch. They had to design their own version of what a human soul should be, they had to exempt major events before the point of the Man's death from revision to avoid paradoxes (this pained the Man greatly because it meant certain souls were lost), they had to restrict big chunks of revision to memory only because re-executing reality with the changes in place then was too risky, they had to rewrite certain khert processes to allow for memory collection while not hampering its other arbitration processes and starting fires. It was complicated, sophisticated stuff!

Duane's going to be battling with himself over whether to believe any of this because it's gross heresy, and over being fascinated by the idea of it and what it means in terms of what's possible with the khert and with the deepest levels of pymary. Rewriting the khert is the kind of thing all Composer-level spellwrights secretly think about, but it's madly heretical to even suggest. Because the khert is holy, it's eternal, it's the great arbiter. Should men alter it before Ssael says it's time?

Imagine!

[yffresbeard]

hello eso players: don't forget starting today you can claim the Thieves Guild dlc for free from the crown store if you have or earn the Pocket Picker achievement!

and! once you have the dlc you can get the treasure hunter horse free with the cave delver achievement for hews bane!

[theoutcastrogue]

Prism: I'm gonna become a book thief. Folio filcher. Parchment pilferer. FCG: A literary larcenist? Prism: Yeah! That's right, when I'm done reading them, I'm gonna set them on fire! Laudna: No, that's an arsonist. Prism: Oh. FCG: Maybe you need to read some more books. Deanna: We got to steal you a thesaurus, baby girl.

— Critical Role C3E64: "Reunited"

Humble suggestions for the Criminal Nerd:

bestiary burglar

codex cracker

compendium cribber

document desperado

grimoire grabber

hardcover heister

leaf lifter

letter looter

library liberator

manuscript moocher

octavo outlaw

page pincher

paper plunderer

paperback purloiner

paragraph picker

scroll snagger

sexto snatcher

spellbook swiper

tome taker

vellum villain

volume varlet

BONUS: anthologist

Some of these would also be formed as *clears throat* exocentric verb-noun compound agent nouns (like "one who picks pockets" is a pickpocket, rather than a "pocket-picker") : liftleaf, lootletter, pinchpage, snagscroll. And these could also be proper nouns, family names (for a certain kind of family, heh) or nicknames or criminal aliases or even tiefling virtue names.

[dairy-farmer]

Thoughts on the public school fag Tim au from not too long ago.

Tim being invited to the Wayne’s estate during the summer holiday, he goes shooting — he doesn’t know how to himself, but when they go out and shoot pigeons he sticks with Dick… who plies bim with regular shots of Hennessy from the silver flask he has hidden in his jacket pocket. By the end Tim’s barely able to stand, Dick’s loading man had to carry him back to the house early. When they returned back after lunch and a day’s shoot dick went up to change before dinner — to find Tim, still drunk, naked, and desperate for dick to fuck him.

It’s been a while, dick graduated that year and Tim’s been desperate for him since. Jason’s good, and Bruce has started fucking him too, but he wants Dick back.

(Also bonus for Tim becoming a fuck toy for the entire party staying at the estate for the shooting, by the end of dinner they’ve slowly peeled all his clothes off and he’s sat in the middle of the floor on his knees, naked, surrounded by drunk men in tuxes desperate to get their turn with the pretty boy begging for someone to use him)

😍😍😍😍!!!! tim accompanying dick while he goes shooting!!!

tim's in soft britches and riding boots with a nice tweed coat that dick had bought him because tim's family didn't much care for the sport of shooting or game hunting like the waynes did. normally dick would be accompanied by one of the dogs to go with him but ace was at the vet, titus was still a puppy that damian wouldn't let out of his sight, and dick didn't like any of the other dogs bred on the estate

dick's first year at university is over and he's finally home with his family and brothers and their sweet little pet that they've convinced his parents to part with for the summer. dick is the last to arrive at the estate and so everyone else has had plenty of time to unwind and relax with sweet timmy. but not dick. no, dick is still wound up with tension about life in university where he was on his own and didn't have anyone to bail him out in case his mouth got him into trouble (something he sorely unappreciated while in boarding school). and so maybe dick has a bit of a cruel streak coming back from university and seeing little timmy with his red. chubby cheeks and bright eyes. being away meant that dick had missed pheasant and partridge season but the gamekeeper had said some deer had been spotted on the east edges of the manor grounds. and with the ponds on the ground there was no shortage of ducks or geese.

taking tim with him was a natural move both because dick needed to be welcomed home and because he needed a picker-up for his ducks. sweet timmy is nervous around all the weaponry, so unsure and shifting from foot to foot in his new boots. while waiting for the game dick takes covert drinks from his flask, he'd nicked it off of bruce because his had been confiscated years ago with bruce having a strict policy against drinking and shooting. tim is so unsure and out of his depth that dick decides to take pity on the kid and offer the flash to his lips, tipping it back and watching tim's nose and eye scrunch up at the taste. it's cute and gets a laugh of amusement out of dick who keeps doing it to see that look again.

tim is as drunk as a skunk within the hour. he's small and his tolerance is basically zero. dick gets a few hearty laughs out of seeing tim stumble and fall all over. he ends up getting thrown over the loading man's shoulders like a sack of potatoes and carried home while dick keeps offering him the flask by pressing it to his fat, baby cheek.

dick gets washed up and tracks tim down to his room where he's supposed to be sleeping the drink off, only he finds him half naked on the bed, squirming and whining for dick. his babycunt is shiny with tim's wetness and his little fingers are rubbing against it, whining and rutting against them.

well dick knows an invitation when he sees one.

tim makes the exact same gasp and gutted noise as he always does when dick presses his cock in and sinks until he's fully sheathed. tim is looser when he's drunk, his body less resistant to penetration or the force of dick's thrusts when he immediately starts fucking tim fast and hard. tim just whines under him, making soft noises, and grinding his hips back against dick's. normally tim lies there and makes soft noises, his tight cunt twitching and tightening occasionally. but a drunk tim is a fun tim and a surprisingly horny one too.

it's a wonderful homecoming gift for dick.