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sun-moon-stars-jedi · 2 years
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Jason would've been president of the drama club and valedictorian if he'd made it to his senior year in high school and this would've been his senior picture:
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barqnz · 5 months
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anya taylor joy as emma woodhouse
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andrevasims · 11 months
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Mipmop
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sarasa-cat · 4 months
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Fwiw-- common cold #2 is far more of the sore throat, mild bouts of hacking cough, feeling run down and tired whereas NASTY ASS COLD #1 was a full on Stuffy Head So MUCH FUCKING MUCUS MAKE IT STOP that took 5evah to clear out because so much fucking mucus.
Common cold #2 is at that point where it will either be a brief annoyance and gone in a day or three, or it will decide to blossom into mucus-fucking-hell. Hopefully it won't. It doesn't have that feeling and is mostly a nasty sore throat and full body laziness.
I would like it to clear out soon.
(Have foodie food to omnomnomnom. Very good museums to visit. Clothes shopping to do. Favorite haunts to re-haunt. etc etc. Film to shoot. And so forth)
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lxkexbxss · 2 years
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Just watched the Rise Movie
These mofos really went ‘How can we make a SAINW again?’. THANKS FOR THAT ONE FAM. MY HEART.
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just-rogi · 2 months
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Ok.. either I am just genuinely so radiant that sometimes strangers just LOVE me… or there is some untapped potential of a racially ambiguous mixed girlie… because there as an absurd and disproportionate trend in my life of going to restaurants run by people of color and the wait staff instantly clocking me as “friend shaped” and then giving me a huge discount for no other reason… like in front of my white friends. I’m treated WAY differently and it’s honestly hilarious?? Like the really cute waitress tonight was on her break when we left and stopped to say “byeeee it was wonderful to have you!!! You were so sweet!!” At like only me, while my two other friends were right ?? there?? She also did not charge me for my drinks at all!?? Which was a slay! And this KEEPS happening?? And only with other young brown girlies and Arab dads/granddads who instantly daughter zone me and refuse to let me pay the price on the menu when they find out my mom is Arab??
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wickedghxst · 1 year
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got link’s new champion tunic. i liked it in the previews but in game it looks kinda… eh.
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ellemj · 3 months
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Flustered: Part 1
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic: SMUT
Request by @aryarcharon: enemies to lovers, fuckboy!Bucky, praise kink.
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Summary: Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.
Warnings: profanity, masturbation, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, praise kink, teasing, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 6.1k
A/N: I've had major writers block + lack of motivation lately. I started this WEEKS ago and didn't have a single good idea for it again until today, so here you all go. I meant for it to be a one-shot but it sort of turned into a two-part fic on its own. Special thanks to @aryarcharon for this wonderful combination request from the smut menu!
            It’s not very easy to get under your skin. You’re so level-headed and even-tempered, capable of dealing with the most heinous criminals and lowlifes without ever breaking a sweat. However, there is one person who not only knows how to get under your skin, but takes pride in doing exactly that. That one person is none other than Bucky Barnes.
            As a heavy rain pours down, soaking your clothes and sending a chill throughout your body, you stand with your arms crossed over your chest and a simmering rage bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. It’s his fault you’re stuck out here like this, freezing your ass off and probably nearing hypothermia as you wait for an extraction team. The mission went fine. You got the intel you needed, you got in and out without a hitch, and you even made it all the way back to the getaway car. The getaway car that Bucky left idling for too long, which drained the battery and now leaves the two of you standing in the rain.
            Your eyes flit over to your left, where Bucky’s carefully analyzing the machinery beneath the hood of the car, like he’s going to be able to magically fix a drained battery. Just the sight of him feeds the fire of anger within you.
            “Give it up, we don’t have any way to jump it off.” You grumble, running your hands through your wet hair. Bucky lifts his gaze to glare at you. His eyes briefly travel down to your wet clothes, but he focuses back on the machinery within a second. It was already cold out before it started raining, why the hell would you have dressed in such a thin shirt? And then to only pull on an equally thin jacket over the top of it, Bucky’s decided that you’re not the brightest.  
            “If you had listened to me and gone in when security was in the back half of the building instead of waiting until shift change, we wouldn’t have had to leave the car idling for that long.” Bucky points out, letting the hood down and closing it with a metallic thud.
            “If you had turned the ignition off, time wouldn’t have been a factor.” You retort. You know there isn’t any use in arguing, it’s not going to change your current shitty situation. However, you never seem to be able to stop yourself when it comes to Bucky.
            “I was trying to keep the car warm so you wouldn’t be freezing your ass off on the drive back to the compound.” Bucky huffs, moving around the side of the car to join you in standing on the passenger side. The laugh that leaves your lips is genuine, and if you weren’t laughing at Bucky’s words, it might’ve been infectious enough to make him laugh right along with you.
            “Don’t lie and pretend like you were keeping it warm for me, you were doing that for yourself. You’re never that nice to me.” It’s true, he’s never that nice to you. Any other woman? Sure, he’s a gentleman to anyone else. But to you, he’s an ass, constantly. It’s part of his fuckboy charm. He puts on the perfect show for women he wants to sleep with, and then gets them into bed and never calls them again, forever seemingly afraid of commitment. It’s how you figured out that you’re the one girl he’s never thought about sleeping with. He’s never been nice to you.
            Before Bucky has a chance to continue your pointless argument, his phone rings in the pocket of his leather jacket. He’s quick to pull it out, note that it’s Torres calling, and then press the device up to his ear as he narrows his eyes at you. You roll your eyes the moment you make eye contact with him.
            “I’ve got a car coming your way, ETA is about two minutes. But, it looks like the people you stole the info from may have caught on to the ruse, so you need to move.” Torres informs him quickly. He can hear him tapping away on a keyboard as he speaks.
            “Which direction is the car coming from?” Bucky asks, already scanning the street for signs of danger.
            “Head north of where you are right now, when you get to the construction site at the end of the road, take a left and find a place to tuck in until the car gets there.”
            It’s less than a minute later that you and Bucky are jogging through the rain in silence. You follow a couple of steps behind him, routinely glancing over your shoulder to check for the people that are supposedly on your tail. Though you haven’t seen or heard anyone yet, it doesn’t mean you aren’t being watched. After a short twenty seconds of you jogging behind Bucky, his protective nature gets the best of him and he slows down, switching places with you. He’s not letting you hang around the back and be the first one to get shot at when those guys catch up.
            “I can take care of myself, you know.” You mumble as Bucky lets you take the lead.
            “You have to, since you sure as hell don’t like to let anyone else do it.”  He spits back lowly. For someone who can’t stand being around you, he sure knows a good bit about you.
---
            Bucky stands in the shower, running his hands through his hair as he lets the hot water trickle over the curves of his muscles. He let you get under his skin today. He let you distract him from the mission at hand and he forgot to turn off the damn ignition, which resulted in the two of you getting stranded in the rain. Truthfully, you barely even did anything. It was the same shit that always distracts him when he’s in the field with you. The way you can be so serious and focused on your task, yet still throw casual insults and banter with him on the side. The way you’ve never acted like you were scared of him or like you even care who he once was. The way you roll your eyes. Every time he sees you roll your eyes at him, which is often, he can’t help but think about making you roll them for a very different reason. God, if he could just get you out of his life, he’d be fine. He’d be more the fine, honestly. He’d be fucking great.
            But, you’re a part of his life whether he likes it or not. You both live in the tower, you get sent on the same missions more often than not, and you’re as close with Sam as he is. So, over the last couple of months, Bucky came up with one foolproof way of gaining a little control back in this situation. He goes out of his way to make you want to insult him, to make you want to give him shit, so he can convince himself that you’d never give him a chance. Of course, it helps that he’s a bit of a modern-day fuckboy and you can’t stand that. Your take on his sex life is a bit off, but he doesn’t care to correct you on it, hoping it’ll make you hate him even more. You think that he sleeps around and because you think he fears commitment, you assume he leads women on and gets them into bed with the promise of something more. He does sleep around, but with no promise of commitment or anything resembling that. He lets women know up front that he isn’t looking for anything, that he’s happy to have one fun night and give them pleasure beyond belief, but that it’ll never go anywhere after that. Besides, who would pass up the chance to sleep with a super soldier? He’s practically fulfilling women’s fantasies left and right. He’s doing his civic duty by sleeping around. Isn’t he?
            Bucky had been planning to grab something out of the fridge for dinner after his shower, and then lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. Until he stepped out of his room, freshly showered, and the heavenly smell of whatever you chose to cook for everyone that night graced his senses. He couldn’t help himself from venturing in not only to see what you were making, but also to try to get under your skin as much as you got under his earlier today.
            “Don’t tell me you’re cooking pasta again.” Bucky’s voice rings out just as you’re leaving your sauce to simmer and thicken up on the stovetop. Your back is to him, but you know he’s approaching the kitchen with a sure plan to piss you off. As you wash a wooden spoon in the sink, your entire body tenses up when you feel him behind you.
            “You know I like to be alone in here when I’m cooking.” You remind him coldly, shutting off the water and drying the spoon on a hand towel. Bucky chuckles lowly before backing away from you and moving over to the stovetop, glancing down at the pasta sauce that you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes whipping up.
            “And you know that’s why I’m in here.” Bucky points out. God, he’s infuriating. He’s made it his main purpose in life to piss you off, you’re sure of it. When you finally turn to face him, you catch him eyeing the sauce with piqued interest.
            “Get away from the stove.” You say boldly, pointing your wooden spoon at him like it’s a weapon. Bucky’s eyes dart over to you with mild amusement as he assesses the situation. You need to turn the burner off, but Bucky’s seen you cook this exact recipe enough times to know that, so instead of moving like you told him to, he reaches over and turns the burner off for you. It’s his next move that really pisses you off. A smug smile tugs on the corners of his lips as his hand ghosts over the stovetop to the edge of the saucepan, and then glides across the rim of it, gathering a small sample of sauce. “Don’t you dare.” You threaten him. “It was your fault that I ended up soaked on that mission today, you’re not eating anything I’m cooking tonight.”
            “Soaked, hmm?” Bucky repeats the word, giving it a much filthier connotation as he raises a brow at you. You shake your head, stepping forward as he lifts his hand closer to his mouth, his gaze focused on the sauce on the tip of his flesh index finger.
            “You know what I mean.” You huff, reaching for Bucky’s arm to stop his movement.
            “It was my fault that you ended up soaked.” Bucky says the sentence slowly as he thinks about you being soaked in an entirely different context. You poke his chest with your wooden spoon before grabbing his flesh wrist and pulling his hand toward you, effectively stopping him from tasting the sauce.
            “Why do you have to make everything sound so filthy?” You question, looking around for your hand towel so you can wipe the sauce off of his finger. It’s too far for you to reach without dropping his hand, and you’re sure as hell not letting him go now.
            “I like seeing you flustered like this.” He teases. Secretly, he’s enthralled that you’re touching him right now, that you’re standing so fucking close to him. He came in here hoping to piss you off just enough to make you yell at him, to make you chase him out of the kitchen, to remind him that you don’t give a shit about him so he could go to bed tonight without thinking about you. Yet, here he is, enjoying every second in your presence.
            Flustered. It only takes two seconds for you to decide that you’ve had enough of being flustered at Bucky’s words and actions. You’re always the one that’s flustered and he’s always the one that’s smug and cocky over getting a rise out of you. The action your body chooses to carry out doesn’t seem to go through the proper channels in your brain first, so you carry it out without pausing long enough to realize that it would be a mistake.
            You pull Bucky’s hand closer to your face, look up into his eyes, and wrap your lips around his finger, sucking the sauce off as your tongue glides against his skin.
            Fuck. You don’t hear the very audible sound of Bucky swallowing. You don’t hear the way every single thought jumbles up into a ball of incoherent words in his mind before disappearing altogether. You most definitely don’t notice the way his cock is quickly hardening, even though he’s wearing gray sweats and his growing bulge is somewhat obvious.
            You did it, Bucky’s flustered. You’ve never actually seen him like this, with blush-tinged cheeks, blown pupils, and narrowed eyes. He’s looking down at you like he wants to rip his hand away from you and storm off, but he isn’t moving a muscle. Satisfied with your victory, you drop his hand and use the spoon to tap on his chest.
            “I like seeing you flustered like this, James.”
---
            With a hand wrapped around his cock and your name threatening to crawl past his lips, Bucky chases his release less than an hour after his interaction with you in the kitchen. The image of you sucking on his finger while you looked up at him through your lashes ruined him. It fucking ruined him. Bucky works his cock with no intention of prolonging his pleasure, he wants it over with. He wants to knock out this one, shameful orgasm and then figure out a way to get you back for doing this to him, for making him want you this damn bad. He wants to have you on your knees, swallowing his thick cock with tears on your face and lust in your eyes. He wants to have you naked in his bedsheets, crying out for mercy as he fucks you so thoroughly that you can’t tell where his body ends and yours begins. He wants to have you so hooked on his cock that even a day without it leaves you restless and on edge. He wants to hear you fucking beg for him.
            Only a moment later, Bucky is cumming all over his lower stomach and abs, grunting as quietly as he possibly can as he imagines his entire load filling you. More than anything, Bucky hates that he doesn’t actually hate you.
---
            It’s been two days since Bucky started avoiding you, two days since you sucked his finger into your mouth and gave him something to fantasize about. For the first time since that moment in the kitchen, you’ve found yourself in the same space as Bucky.
            As Bucky finishes up his workout with various pieces of gym equipment, you’re in the sparring ring with your latest trainer. You go through trainers about as fast as Bucky goes through women. Bucky’s sure this new trainer won’t last through the week. He watches as the guy pulls his punches, leaving you with only the lightest of swings to dodge and block. He’s going too easy on you, playing it safe so he won’t hurt you, because he doesn’t think you can handle yourself if he comes at you full strength. Bucky saw the same thing last week when the guy was here for the first time. Honestly, he expected you to request a new trainer after that first session, but for some reason, here the guy is again, treating you like a little princess in the ring.
            You’re light on your feet as you duck beneath another one of your trainer’s wide swings and then rise back up, landing a gentle punch of your own to his gut and sending him stumbling one step back. He’s quick to hold his hands up in defeat, shaking his head at your perseverance. You’ve been going at it for over an hour now, and although you’ve both been going easy on each other, it’s still cardio.
            “I’m calling it for today. I’ll be back again on Monday and you can rough me up then.” The tall, broad-shouldered man promises with a smile. You let out a deep breath and nod your head as you start to unwrap the protective fabric from around your knuckles. Taking a few steps over to the far side of the ring, you steal a sideways glance at Bucky, who’s completely engaged in his own workout with a weight set.
            “Rough you up? I don’t think we’ve gotten anywhere close to rough.” You joke, though it’s true. The man has been treating you like it’s your first week sparring, like you’re something to be handled with care and caution. You drop the sweaty fabric strips onto the mats before tugging your hair out of its ponytail and lowering yourself to sit on your knees on the mats.
            “If you wanted it rough, you could’ve just said so.” Your new trainer is bold. Though he fights you like you’ll shatter with his first real punch, he takes risks with his flirting. That’s the only reason you haven’t requested a new trainer yet.
            “Good to know.” You say coyly, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes and an innocent smile playing on your lips.
            It was that innocent smile paired with the way you looked up that simultaneously twisted Bucky’s stomach into an aching knot, yet still managed to send all of the blood in his body straight to his cock. If it was him that you’d been looking up at, his stomach would’ve been fine. But no, you were looking at your fucking trainer, the man who clearly thinks you’re fragile and incapable of making it through a real sparring match. After a few more words are exchanged between the two of you, the guy leaves the gym, promising he’ll see you again after the weekend, unless you call for him sooner. Bucky briefly imagines himself hurling one of the heavy weights across the room to knock the guy out of the door a little faster, but that would cause more trouble than it’s worth.
            He was going to ignore you. Honestly, he was. He wasn’t going to let himself interact with you, for his own sanity. But his deeper desires are repeating like a mantra in the back of his mind. He wants to hear you fucking beg for him. He has to have that satisfaction. He’s thought about it enough over the last two days that he’s imagined it to the point of committing the fantasy to memory. He has to have it.
            “I was wondering why you haven’t put in a request for a new trainer yet, since that one seems to think you’re too weak for a real sparring match. I get it now though.” Bucky says lowly, setting his weights down and lifting the hem of his t-shirt, using it to wipe sweat off of his brow. You narrow your eyes at him as you remain seated on your knees, stretching your arms up above your head. You know him well enough to know that he’s not done talking. “You want to sleep with him.”
            “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” You laugh. You reach for your water bottle that sits a few inches closer to the corner of the ring, grabbing it and pulling it to your chest.
            “Good to know.” Bucky repeats your words. He has a habit of remembering exactly what you’ve said and using it against you in various ways. It’s one of the things you hate most about him.
            “What does it matter if I do want to sleep with him? You sleep with any girl that comes within ten feet of you, you can’t really judge me, can you?” You retort. Bucky watches with an amused smile on his face as you set your water bottle back down and grasp the hem of your own shirt. He thinks you’re going to lift it just as he lifted his own earlier, to wipe sweat off of your brow. In retrospect, he should’ve left the gym when you lifted your shirt over your head, removing it and dropping it on the mats beside you.
            “You think he’d be good in bed? He won’t even throw a real punch at you in the ring. He’d probably fuck you so softly you wouldn’t even feel it.” Bucky scoffs, letting his eyes roam down your body as you’re taking another sip of water. You sit there in black leggings and a matching black sports bra, on your knees, making him question every decision he’s ever made with your appearance alone.
            “Maybe he thinks throwing real punches at a girl would dampen the mood.” You lie. You know Bucky’s right. The guy would be a bore in bed, but you can keep up the façade for a bit since it seems to bother Bucky so much.
            “Because he doesn’t know you very well.”
            “And you think you do?”
            “I think I know more about you than he does.” Bucky slowly approaches the sparring ring, keeping his eyes trained on yours the whole time. You don’t move from your spot on the mats.
            “List one thing.” You dare him.
            “A real sparring match with a man would do the opposite of dampening your mood.”  Bucky pulls himself up on the side of the ring, sliding through the ropes with ease and coming to stand a foot in front of you. He studies the way you look on your knees in front of him. He memorizes it.
            “You think sparring would be like foreplay for me?” You ask, already knowing that that’s exactly what he’s insinuating. You don’t know why you let him talk to you like this, why you let him cross every single professional boundary again and again. But here you are, on your knees in front of him as he stares down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
            “Do you want to prove me wrong?” Bucky holds his hand out to you, awaiting your decision.
--
            Your back slams against the mats for the third time, knocking the wind out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for air. It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath before you bend your knees and run your hands over your face. When you move your hands, you see Bucky standing above you and a little to your right, looking as smug as ever. He’s practically getting off on throwing you around like this, or at least that’s what you think he’s getting off on. He’s really getting off on hearing all of the heavy breaths, gasps, and soft whimpers that have been leaving your lips over the course of the last fifteen minutes.
            “Maybe I should’ve given you a safe word.” Bucky taunts, holding out a hand to help you up. You swat it away and take a deep breath before moving into a sitting position and then rising to your feet. You’re quick to assume a defensive position once again, though you’re learning that being on defense against Bucky is the wrong move.
            “I don’t think this is intense enough to require a safe word, unless you think you’ll need one.” You huff. The two of you begin moving in a slow circle around the ring, sizing each other up once again.
            “You sure about that? How much more can you take?” Bucky challenges you. You exhale slowly as you fight to calm your racing heart and come up with a plan of attack.
            “I can take whatever you have to give me.” You must’ve spent too much time around Bucky lately, because the innuendo that just left your lips is on par with the kinds of things he normally says. He falters at the implication of your words, letting his hands fall away from his defensive position for just a moment. You take your shot, rushing forward and shoving his chest with both hands as you lock your ankle around the back of one of his knees and knock him off balance. He goes tumbling backward, but before you can break away from him to maintain your own balance, he grabs your wrists and takes you down with him. You land on top of him on the mats with a soft thud. You begin scrambling to take control of the situation, attempting to free your wrists from his hold to pin his arms down on the mats. A low laugh erupts from Bucky’s chest as he witnesses your struggle. He actually finds it adorable that you think you have even the slightest chance at pinning down his vibranium arm. He lets you try for a moment, watching as you expend a little more of your energy, before he takes charge. Bucky easily breaks your grasp on his forearms and then grabs your right hand, tugging you down to his chest. He rolls you both over in one swift move, coming to rest half of his bodyweight on top of you.
            “Do you say shit like that to your trainer? Or just me?” He has to ask. You see the tiniest semblance of jealously peeking through his question and it brings a smug smile to your lips instead of his, for once.
            “Do you need me to tell you that you’re special?” You tease, trying to free your arms from where he has them pinned down on either side of your head. He watches with poorly veiled amusement as you struggle beneath him. In an effort to gather more strength, you pull your knees up and place your feet flat on the floor, which lets Bucky’s lower body slide between your legs. Your sudden move catches him off guard and he just barely pulls his hips back before his erection has the chance to brush against the crotch of your leggings. You let out a soft sigh as you try once more to break out of his grasp and Bucky can feel his cock growing impossibly harder at your sensual sound. The next sentence that leaves his mouth is one that could take things in one of two very different directions.
            “You look so fucking pretty when you’re struggling for me.” He says lowly. You freeze in an instant. When you meet his gaze, focusing in on his blue eyes, warmth suddenly begins to flood your body. You feel your breath hitch in your throat and a sheen of sweat form across your chest. Bucky notices every little physiological reaction he gets out of you. You liked what he said. You fucking liked it. A new boldness comes over him and he licks his bottom lip before biting into it and letting his eyes trail down to your chest. His gaze doesn’t linger there, but you can see the briefest appreciation in it as you lay there and let him look you over. Bucky wants to have you just like this, in his bed. But, if he can only have you like this on the gym mats, he isn’t going to waste the moment. Leaning down until his nose is almost brushing against yours, Bucky still keeps the majority of his weight off of you. He tilts his head to the side and lets his nose graze the shell of your ear. When you feel his lips against your earlobe, your eyes flutter shut and your breath hitches in your throat once again. “So. Fucking. Pretty.” Bucky repeats in a hushed whisper, emphasizing each word. You’re fighting to keep your legs in the exact position they’re in, they’re beginning to shake as you strain to keep them firm. Every single muscle fiber you have wants to take part in spreading your legs. Bucky can feel it. He can feel how badly you want to spread your legs for him, he can fucking feel it. He thinks he might want it even more than you do.
            “What was the safe word?” You ask in a breathless whisper. You can feel the movement of Bucky’s lips curling into a devilish smile against the shell of your ear.
            “I thought you said you could take whatever I have to give you.” He tsks. His warm breath fanning against your cheek is driving you absolutely insane, and it’s adding to all of the other sensations that are sending your body into overdrive. “You can take it, can’t you?” You’re trembling beneath him and he fucking loves it. You barely even think about his question before you find yourself nodding your head. In the back of your mind, you’re hating the way your body is fully complying with him, but for some reason it feels so good to do exactly what he wants.
            “I can take it.” You whisper softly. Bucky pulls back to look into your eyes as his teeth press into his bottom lip.
            “Good girl.” You reaction is instant and visceral. A whimper falls from your lips and your eyes close tightly as your legs spread all on their own, giving Bucky the freedom to press his clothed cock against you if he so wishes. But, he doesn’t. He’s completely mesmerized, entranced by your positive response to praise.
            That was the moment Bucky realized that you have a praise kink. When you finally gathered yourself and opened your eyes to look up at him, the way he stared back down at you like he wanted to ravage you right there on the mats of the sparring ring sent a jolt of electricity through you. Yeah, you wanted him to do every filthy thing that was running through his mind in that moment. But it was Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes, the man who sleeps with anyone and everyone, the man who is never nice to you. You couldn’t let him have what he wanted, so you came to your senses and finished the fight. You shoved him off of you when he least expected it, sending him to land flat on his back beside you, and then you scrambled to your feet, quick to put a bit of distance between the two of you.
            “Had enough already?” Bucky asked in a condescending tone, as he bent his knees and ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair, not making any moves to get off of the mats.
            “I said I could take it, I didn’t say I would. Find someone else to fuck around with.” You spit the words back at him with sheer malice.
            The following week was torture. Bucky, being the little shit that he is, decided to use your praise kink against you. Knowing your secret made getting under your skin that much easier for him. It started out small, with whispered praises in passing. He was leaving the gym one day when you were halfway through a heavy core workout, and as he passed by you, he couldn’t help himself.
            “Look at you, sweating and panting but still looking so fucking pretty.” He said lowly as he passed you, shooting you a smirk as the words left his lips. It set a fire deep in your stomach, which you swore was due to rage, but really, it wasn’t. The heat from that fire went straight to your cunt. You finished your workout in record time before hurrying upstairs to your room and telling yourself how much you hate him while you gave yourself the pleasure you so desperately needed.
            As Bucky teased you more and more, he began to become familiar with even the most subtle ways that your body would react to him. When he said just the right things, he could see your breath hitch in your throat, your posture straighten in the slightest, and your pupils dilate as you glared at him. Your eyes showed nothing but hatred but your body sang a different tune entirely, and he was feeding off of it.
            It’s now a few days later, and Bucky has grown even more confident in reading your body language. You’re in the kitchen late at night, washing a mug you used earlier in the evening. As you stand at the sink with your back to the rest of the living space and hallway to the bedrooms, Bucky slips out of his room quietly. Honestly, he didn’t know you’d still be up and out of your own room. He was planning to grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge and get back to his sleepless night, but there you are, in those little pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt that almost makes the shorts pointless. When he joins you in the kitchen, you’re instantly aware of the heightened tension in the air around you both. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Bucky pulls the fridge open and retrieves a cold bottle of water. You listen as he unscrews the lid and takes a long sip, before screwing the lid back on and leaning against the island behind you. You continue washing the mug, spending way too much time rinsing the soapy bubbles off of the ceramic dish.
            “You’re not going to look at me?” Bucky asks. His voice is tense, filled with anticipation. You refuse to turn around an face him. You finish rinsing the mug and shut the faucet off, shaking the mug over the sink to get off the excess water. As you reach to your left for the hand towel that sits on the countertop, Bucky suddenly rushes forward, reaching his arms around either side of you and letting his hands rest on the countertop. You try to act unbothered as you dry the mug and keep your breathing as even as possible. He isn’t even touching you. His chest is only an inch or two away from your back but the proximity makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Come on, look at me.” Bucky coos. He leans down and lets his nose brush against your ear so lightly that it tickles and you pull your head to the side, away from him. As your heart rate increases and the warmth between your legs begins to grow, you start to think. He has the advantage. He’s had the advantage for a week now and you’re sick of it. You want an advantage of your own. As Bucky waits for a response from you, your mind races back to the night you sucked on his finger in this very kitchen. You got to him that night and he stayed away from you for days after that. You want that advantage over him again, you need it. So, you let that need guide your actions. As you inhale a deep breath, you turn your head and let your cheek brush against Bucky’s, catching him by surprise. He pulls away an inch and turns to look into your eyes. His surprise quickly fades into a look of pride as he sees you doing exactly what he wanted, looking right at him. “Good girl.”
            “Bucky…” You feign a whimper, setting the mug and towel down on the countertop before mirroring his position. You place each of your hands right beside his on the edge of the countertop and lightly press your ass back against him. You’re not even a little bit shocked when his erection makes contact with your ass, you knew he’d been getting his own twisted enjoyment out of this little game. As you grind gently against him, he draws in a sharp breath and you face forward once again, glancing down at your hands on the countertop. “Look at how much bigger your hands are.” You say incredulously, noting the size difference as he peers over your shoulder. “I’m so glad we never tried to fuck, I don’t think I would’ve been able to take you.” You whisper.
            Bucky stiffens behind you and you’re sure that you actually feel his cock throb against your ass before he pulls his hips away. In a flash, his hands are gone from the countertop and he’s retreating, leaving you by the kitchen sink.
That was the moment you realized Bucky has a size kink, the moment you leveled the playing field.
TAG LIST:
@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @lulawantmula @i-l-y-3000
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moonbeamwritings · 1 year
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“Rin,” you whine, perching your chin on his stomach, eyeing him despite the phone that blocks your view. He’s aimlessly scrolling, just like he always does before bed, and you’re keen on stopping him. Your stomach grumbles and you call his name again. “Rintarouu.”
Without looking, he plops a hand onto your head and tells you, “Sorry, it’s after business hours.”
“Rin,” you’re not above groveling as your voice dips into a whine again, “can we go get food?”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“So? That McDonald’s down the street is open. I already checked.”
Rintarou’s hand moves to start massaging your scalp, though he still refuses to look at you.
“And, when have you ever turned down late-night fries?”
His phone tilts to the right and his pretty face comes into view, faux annoyance crossing his features. “But I’m sleepy, and it’s cold out.”
Making a show of batting your lashes at him, you jut out your bottom lip. “Please, babe. It’ll be my treat. You don’t even have to order if you don’t want to.” You shuffle up his chest to invade more of his space. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything, huh?” He quirks a brow, putting his phone aside to pull you towards his chest. “I like the sound of that.”
“Rin,” you redirect, “the food. That’s priority number one.”
His lithe fingers curl around the back of your neck, guiding you forward until your lips meet. He pulls away after a few, sweet seconds, but not before nipping at your bottom lip. “Alright, fine. We’ll go.”
He pinches the plush of your warming cheek and grins. “But only because you beg so pretty.”
Rolling your eyes and pushing against his chest, you move to stand, pulling on his hand to force him to make good on his promise.
When you reach the front door, clad in his EJP hoodie that’s a size or two too big, Rintarou tugs the hood up onto your head and pulls on the strings, making it scrunch around your face. He ties them before bundling you up in his coat next.
Affection creeps into the corners of Rintarou’s gray eyes as he inspects your form. “C’mon stinky, let’s go. My baby’s gotta eat.”
Five minutes later, you’re standing in the lobby of McDonald’s, cheeks rosy from the cold and Rintarou’s fingers entangled with yours as he earnestly inspects the menu. When you’re up, he tugs you along towards the counter, and speaks before you even have the chance to open your mouth, ordering your usual and then his, making a point to slip his card into the machine.
“Hey,” you hiss once the order is placed, squeezing his hand in yours. “I said I’d pay.”
He stoops a bit to press a kiss to the crown of your head, right atop your hood. “Don’t you worry yer pretty lil’ head about it, okay? I wanted to.”
“But-”
A click of his tongue stops you in your tracks as he slings his arm around your shoulders. “Nuh uh. No buts.”
You sigh at his insistence, but nevertheless you tell him, “Thank you, Rin.”
Pleased, he hums, “Mhm.”
The food comes out moments later, and with his arm still resting on your shoulders, he guides you home. And as a winter chill nips at the tip of your nose, you snuggle closer to Rintarou’s side, excited to share a late-night snack with him.
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thevoidstaredback · 14 days
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It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?
Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.
Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.
"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.
Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.
Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.
"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"
Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"
The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."
Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"
Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"
Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."
"Billy."
"No last name?"
"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"
He had to give it to him. "Touché."
Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.
The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.
"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"
Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."
The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.
Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."
"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"
Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"
The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"
The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.
"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.
"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.
"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"
"Magic."
"I guessed that much."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"You didn't even think about it!"
"Okay," He paused. "No."
"Not fair." he pouted.
Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."
Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"
Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."
"Why not!"
"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."
"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.
Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."
Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"
The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.
"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."
Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."
"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"
Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"
He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."
Part 2 Part 4
(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)
Tag list: @zaiothe4th
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escapismisaddicting · 4 months
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“Hey! Yeah, Talia, It’s me Jay.”
“No, Bruce hasn’t been causing me any trouble, um- it’s actually the opposite problem. You… you know post-nut clarity? I think I’m getting post-lazarus clarity. You know?”
“Yeah… Talia, you kinda failed to mention all the shit that had changed in Gotham while I was gone. Like sure I have a replacement now whoop dee doo! But like- I also apparently have a charity named after me? All proceeds go to refurbishing crime alley- and apparently it’s been so successful that most kids I knew back then are now working in Wayne Industries. So- And you know that’s not the only thing? I have a park now. Like a genuine park named after me. With a statue of me in the center of a god damn water fountain. My favorite gargoyle was moved to the entrance of the park. Fucking hell Talia- I HAVE A MENU ITEM AT BATBURGER. NOT ROBIN. NOT RED HOOD. LIKE GENUINELY JASON PETER TODD HAS A FUCKING MENU ITEM THERE! IT WAS BASED ON HOW I WOULD EAT IT ON PATROL- I DON’T KNOW HOW TO COMPUTE THIS INFORMATION TALIA!”
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bi-writes · 4 months
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i have brain rot about simon riley and need to write this down somewhere -> thinking about childhood-bestfriend!roommate!ghost x fem!reader
more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 1/?)
slight nsfw (18+) thoughts ahead...
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it's your first day of work at your new job. you took up something at the diner nearby, a 24/7 little place that served greasy eggs and day-old coffee in cracked, porcelain mugs. the floors were sticky, half of the menu was crossed out in scratchy black ink, you had to wear this god-awful uniform, but the pay was decent and the cooks were kind.
the diner had a theme, and that theme meant you were buttoning up a terrible uniform. a red and white striped dress with a frilly white apron wrapped around your waist. it cinched at the waist, the skirt was too short, and the neckline showed off too much cleavage, but you needed the money, so damn the uniform.
your hair was slicked back, showing off your light makeup and red lipstick. you fit the hat over your head and slipped the white sneakers on before grabbing your bag and coming out of your room. "and where are y'going lookin' like that, luv?" you froze, closing your eyes and sighing as you gripped your purse tighter.
"im going to work. im gonna be late." "that right? let me look at ya."
you turned around, opening your eyes. simon was standing there, leaning against the kitchen doorway holding a fresh cuppa. you swallowed hard, trying to be subtle as you looked him up and down. black cargo pants, compression shirt rolled up to his elbows, hood over his dirty blonde locks, a surgical mask covering his pretty face.
he put the mug down and straightened his posture at the sight of you. his dark eyes honed in on your figure in the dress, but he tried to hide the way his pupils dilated at the sight of the low neckline. if he moved just right, he could see the white lace of your lingerie peeking out from just under the lapels.
"bloody christ..." he hissed, clicking his tongue.
"shut up, simon, okay? im gonna be late. i know i look ridiculous, i--"
you gasped a little when you felt warmth against your neck. his palm caressed your jaw, fingers tightening around one side of your face. his hand nearly took it all, your cheek smushed against him as he examined you. his eyes grazed over your long lashes to your soft blush to the red of your pouty lips.
he thought it might look nice on him everywhere else. kiss marks on his neck, his chest, his scars, the inside of his mouth--
"dont look ridiculous," he corrected you. "look like a fuckin' doll."
you sucked in your breath as he smoothed a thumb over your bottom lip, his finger coming back a little pink with your lipstick. so pink, so cute, so adorable, just like your glazed, doe eyes and the sight of your tongue sliding along your teeth. you were holding back a whine, that much was obvious.
"simon..."
his other hand moved up, tracing along the edge of the lapel and just barely skimming over the lace of your bra. you held back a shiver, and you felt a warmth bubbling inside of you when you noticed him lean a little closer, his eyes peeking cheekily down the valley of your breasts.
"you let me know when your shift is over," he murmured, letting you go slowly. he knocked his knuckles under your chin, making you look right into his eyes. "im gonna need to walk you home, luv."
"you don't need to do that--"
"wont be taking no for an answer," he narrowed his eyes. "bloody beasts will eat up a pretty thing in this fuckin' dress."
your lips part slightly, your eyes half-lidded as you wonder what it might be like to push the mask up and lick into his mouth, taste the ash on his tongue and the warmth of his breath.
"beasts like you, simon?"
"aye."
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dilfl0v3rss · 10 months
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quiet!choso
quiet!choso who has no problem being out by himself, but refuses to talk in any other way than a hushed tone in public. only using his regular voice at home or with family, but he still barely spoke in full sentences.
quiet!choso always looks to you to order for him. voice too deep and quiet for waiters and drive threw workers to hear him so he always just lets you do it.
“i’ll take the number five with fruit punch as the drink pleaseee.” you chirped into the receiver. pretty skirt riding up your thighs as you leaned halfway over the center console to order your food.
“okay! anything else?” the employee asked. you looked at choso, who stared deep in thought at the menu before moving his lips towards your ear. “same thing…please” you smiled at how soft spoken he was, giving him a quick peck on the cheek for his cuteness before giving the woman his order.
quiet!choso who not only speaks quietly, but moves in silence as well. there has been too many times where your soul has left your body because this man has come home from work without making a sound. just quietly changing his clothes before sitting on the couch to watch his shows.
you were in the main bathroom, just getting done with some cleaning. your earphones were playing sza softly in your ears as you hummed along to her voice. as you walked from the toilet to the shower, you glanced out the door and your heart dropped to your ass. there was a man on your couch, hood on his head as he sat comfortably watching tv. you covered your mouth from the scream that you wanted to release before quietly reaching for your phone to call your boyfriend.
since you hid in the tub, you missed the part where choso pulled his phone from his pocket, giving it a confused look before answering it. ‘why is she calling me if i’m home?’ he thought as he quietly spoke to you through the receiver. “hello?” he instantly grew worried at your shaky breaths, quietly getting up from the couch before slowly walking to where he saw you cleaning. “t-there’s a man in the house”
choso stopped in his tracks, turning around before looked around the empty living room and kitchen. “where?” he said softly walking towards the small black pistol he kept deep in the cushion of his recliner. he slowly pulled the weapon out, being as quiet as possible before walking towards your bedroom to further his inspection. “h-he in the living room. got a black hoodie on with his hood up. looks pretty big too.” choso took a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he realized his mistake. you always told him to let you know when he’s home if he doesn’t see you when he walks in the door, but of course he forgot. “mama that’s me. i’m home from work” before he could say anything else you hung up, standing up from the tub before walking out into the living room with your arms crossed.
“choso bring your ass over here right now boy!”
quiet!choso who even though is seen as an antisocial guy, goes out with you to parties and get togethers. always giving you the same quiet speech about how “a man doesn’t need a voice to keep his woman safe”.
quiet!choso who doesn’t really care what people think of him, letting his brothers and friends call him all types of names without getting irritated in the slightest.
“she already do the talking so i’m guessing she be doing to fucking too” his middle brother sukuna said with a chuckle. choso, yuji, and sukuna agreed to have “bro bonding” (clearly yuji made the name) every other weekend to “keep their relationship strong”. this time it was being held at sukuna’s cave house where the three of them ate takeout and played on the game. “kuna leave em aloneee. there’s nothing wrong with letting your woman have control” his youngest brother said, large hand outstretched on choso’s back as he gave it a small rub.
“man cut the bullshit. even yuji don’t let bitches do that shit. you should hear the sounds that be comin outta my guest room when he crashes here wit a some random broad from a party.” yuji covered his face in embarrassment, making his older brothers chuckle. choso felt if he were to tell anyone how life was at home, it would be the two knuckleheads he was raised with. a small smirk planted on his face, tattooed hands gripping his controller a little tighter as he spoke.
“if my girl ‘ran’ me, don’t you think she’d be doing whatever she wanted? when we go out, why do you think she rather sit by me than go shake her ass with her friends like she usually used t’do?” sukuna and yuji’s eyes widened, giving choso a shocked look before the two of them looked at each other.
quiet!choso who doesn’t need to talk for you to know what he’s trying to say. settling for stern looks and a tap on your thigh, ass if nobody’s looking, as a warning to get you to act right.
quiet!choso who sometimes had to use rougher tactics to correct you when you’re out of line.
“say it again” choso groaned, long girthy dick rearranging your guts as he held you up by your hair. “i w–won’t cuss at daddy” you moaned, back grazing his broad tattooed chest. wrists bound together by fuzzy grey cuffs as you dug your nails into your palms. you were so frustrated earlier that you may have let a couple curse words slip into your vocabulary while texting choso, but regardless of your instant apology, he told you to be stripped and ready for him in the bed by the time he got home from work. now you were paying for your disrespect through taking all 8.5 inches of him without complaint.
“say it louder mama. daddy can’t hear you clearly through all that moaning” choso chuckled as he listened to you whine, pretty breasts bouncing with every thrust as you tried to speak clearly for the fifth time tonight. “i won’t c-cuss at daddy ever again! fuck m’gonna cummm” he rolled his eyes, pace never faltering as he fucked you through your third orgasm of the night. choso’s inked hand abruptly let go of your hair, making a chuckle slip as he watched you fall to the bed with a huff, hands not able to stop you.
“now you cursing right at me. gon be here all night if you don’t clean it up princess”
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citrlet · 1 month
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because i was asked for what mods i use, i decided i'll just make a whole post!
most of everything here is pretty cottagecore/naturey~
under the cut because my game is heavily modded this list is long!!
visual
medieval buildings
way back pelican town
seasonal cute characters base / expanded / east scarp
all cuter animal replacements
vibrant pastoral 1.6 (temporary fix)
overgrown flowery ui
medieval craftables
dynamic night time
cottagecore fences
lamps
gwens paths
animated gemstones
foliage redone foliage only
rosedryads fairies
elle's town animals
sve facelift
more grass
medieval dnt
flowergrass and snowfields
expansion fish redesign
clothing / hairs
more accessories and stuff
cozy scarves
hoods and hoodies
vanilla pants and skirts
the coquette collection
seasonal hats
ani's colour collection
improved and new hairstyles
kyuyas hairstyles pack
furniture
idalda furniture recolor
h&w outdoor furniture
h&w fairy garden furniture
west elm furniture
nano's retro style furniture
asters big furniture pack
gameplay / mechanics
cjb cheats menu (just to walk a little faster)
cjb show item sell price
greenhouse gatherers
craftable mushroom boxes
advanced casks
lumisteria serene meadow
growable forage and crop bushes
cornucopia more flowers / more crops
atelier wildflour crops and forage pack
wear more rings
tree transplant
passable crops
no fence decay redux
multi yield crops
crop fairy
challenging community center bundles
better chests
automate
spawn supply crates on beach
expanded storage
bigger backpack
blue eggs and golden mayo
better ranching
npc map locations
data layers
expansions
stardew valley expanded
east scarp / lurking in the dark / never ending adventure / always raining in the valley
lumisteria visit mount vapius
misc
jen's cozy cellar
cozy farmhouse kitchen
asters walls and floors megapack
wrens expanded greenhouse
cuter coops and better barns
nicer sewer
also recommended
hudson valley buildings
elle's seasonal buildings
seasonal fences
ridgeside village
immerisve farm map 2
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alyakthedorklord · 1 year
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Welcome to Danny’s
Danny making a cafe/restaurant/whatever named Danny’s, in gotham, while on the run from GIW. A bunch of ghosts visit bc danny also makes ecto snacks from the secret menu in a side room. Due to this, it has the same liminal feeling and insane shit that happens in denny’s parking lots. (It’s like the fun sized and feral au by @nutcase8691 but i have a funny name.)
Sometimes Danny’s holds concerts for a famous rockstar (ember). Sometimes suspicious patrons walk right through a wall (into the ghost section). Sometimes there’s a frankenweenie outbreak if Danny is sleep deprived. It’s always freezing and yet somehow no one ever really gets uncomfortably cold. There’s ice sculptures. Plants that twitch and wave even if poison ivy isn’t around. Astrology maps on the walls that sometimes shift into occult symbols and hieroglyphics. Sometimes, after closing, (which is at the weirdest times honestly its open all night but closes random hours of the day) if you look through the slats in the window blinds it’s like you’re staring into the cosmos.
If you set up a fight (meet me in danny’s parking lot, 3am) there will be a referee even if you didn’t communicate it with the shop. The ref gives weapons, knows first aid, and stops fights if they get too rough. The second the fight is over they vanish into thin air.
Danny’s is neutral territory. Sometimes bad guys try to claim it but danny sets them straight. He doesn’t care if its a gang or a rouge, if they mess with his shop, or with anything/anyone too close to his shop, the Man Himself will emerge with a baseball bat, knock people out cold, stand over their groaning bodies and announce, “welcome to danny’s.” He’s never lost. He took out bane once. The Joker he didn’t even use the baseball bat he came after him with his fists. The joker doesn’t even have to be doing anything if he comes near danny will hunt him down. It’s like he has a radar around the shop. Once a really tired Red Robin herded him into the radar with a confused Red Hood’s help bc he just didn’t want to deal. Danny takes the clown out with a spectacular flying tackle before joker even realizes he’s wandered too close.
Jason goes to check it out later. Comes up to the counter to order and the tiny wayne bait guy behind the counter takes one look at him and goes:
“let me grab the secret menu”
“Uh… no, i just want a-“
“Trust me.” The guy says, eyes turning Lazarus green. “You want the secret menu.”
Part 2 of my ramblings (NOT a proper fic)
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lordcrumps · 3 months
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4T2 Hood Tree Defaults!
UPDATED TO HAVE SMALLER TEXURE SIZES
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Sul Sul!
Today I have a default replacement bundle for you, this replaces majority of the trees in the hood menu. Fully seasonal, placeable anywhere!
For reference, this set does have more polys than the Linden tree set, incase you wonder about that! I do love the linden trees, its just they dont match my 4T2 game anymore!
It does not replace the firs from later EPs, they will come at another date - see pictures for reference.
They are designed to go with the Flora Default Replacement by Tvickiesims!
Included is 3 versions of the Red Bud Tree, one of them does require Better Nightlife if you choose that version. They are in a seperate folder and clearly labelled.
There is a package file named "LC_LotTreesPlaceableEverywhere" what this does it allows those trees that are replaced by the flora replacement by Vickie to be placed anywhere now. I am aware there are things out there that do the same thing, but I do not have them and I needed them to be free! All trees in this set are unlocked to be placeable everywhere.
This will obviously conflict with any default you have that replaces any of the hood trees, so please bare that in mind!
Thanks to @tvickiesims for helping me with the fall colours; I would of just made them all red otherwise!
ENJOY!
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