#cheap date brooklyn

[fates-theysband]

i am not super interested in camp here and there as a concept but "yes, to err is human, so don't be one" is on my spotify discover weekly and "dead from the neck up but living just enough to beg you 'pretty boy, please let me die'" is. well it's a lyric for suresies.

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

If you are a movie fan and haven't read the book yet, here are some irrelevant details from the book

Henry owns a cardigan

Arthur and Catherine meet on a Henry V play (which they named Henry after), which Catherine went to see and saw Arthur playing. She "shook off her security to disappear into London and dance all night".

Pez listens to kpop, and he got Alex into it

Nora watches drag race and got Henry into it

Henry is an Elton John fan (actually relevant in the book)

Alex is a Hall & Oates fan

Alex wears glasses (actually relevant in the book)

Henry is described by Alex as having lots of moles

Bea is the rockstar girlfriend, at the end of the book she plays on a concert and everything. She plays the guitar and is always wearing a leather jacket. She also has a fat cat called Mr Wobbles. And the queen wanted her to learn violin “since it was more proper” instead of guitar. “Bea was allowed to learn both, but she went to uni for classical violin.”

During the turkey phonecall, Henry is wearing a peely face mask

Amy is trans and has a pansexual wife

(Actually relevant) Catherine was not off in another country the whole story, just battling intense grief for her husband's death, so she wasn't present in her children's life, so they felt as if they lost both parents.

There's no king, she's actually a queen, her name is Mary and she should die (she's so so much worse on the book than the king is on the movie)

David is a service dog

(Actually relevant in the book) June bought a teen magazine at 15 and 13 year old Alex would sneak into her room to stare at the magazine (and the picture of a blonde 14 year old British prince on it).

Bea is the middle kid, Henry is the youngest

Henry is canonically on therapy and on antidepressants (since the start of the book)

I don't remember if they mentioned it on the movie but Arthur was James Bond and died of pancreatic cancer.

Alex’s favorite Olympic sport is rhythmic gymnastics

Bea had an addiction problem when Henry was about 17 (as a way to cope after their father's death) and only got herself into rehab after Henry went to her and started crying about dad was dead and he was gay and scared so she couldn't kill herself. That's how he came out to her

Alex doesn't wanna be president at the end of the book, he starts law school

Henry favourite star wars is Jedi, Alex's is Empire

June is allergic to peanuts

Alex runs and runs to cope and clear his head

He did not know he was bi until after Henry kissed him. Yes, he had a friend with benefits relationship with his high school friend Liam, but he genuinely thought it was perfectly platonic and straight

Also he doesn't keep on touch with Liam after high school (their friendship just slowly fades away, with living so far and Alex being suddenly famous) but they reconnect at the end

Alex and Henry move in together on a brownstone on Brooklyn, eventually they marry (after Henry abdicates) on the lake house, they move to a farmhouse on Austin, they spend their honeymoon unpacking

Pez is lactose intolerant

Bluebonnet is June’s code name, Barracuda is Alex’s

Henry is a big Austen fan, and makes references to her books through the story

Amy knits

Zahra has a sister who recently had a baby

June forced Alex into dresses as a kid

Henry’s favorite food is a cheap falafel stand ten minutes from the palace

Henry really likes sailing

Shaan has a motorbike

Alex is allergic to dust

Henry keeps a copy of Le Monde, the newspaper from the day they were in Paris, on his room

Alex and Nora dated when Alex was 17 and Nora 18 but realized they were definitely better off as friends. When they are bored, they like to create rumors about their relationship

Alex makes tons of lists to organize

Alex wears chinos, and claims kakhis are for white people

Nora is very good at math

Alex grew up catholic

At the end of their e-mails, Alex and Henry quoted historical lgbt love letters

Nora’s one-bedroom is “full of books and plants she tends to with complex spreadsheets of watering schedules.”

Nora is bisexual and on the aro spectrum (not canon on the book than she’s aro, but Casey did mention it somewhere)

Arthur gifted Henry a telescope for his seventh birthday

The karaoke scene happens not while on Texas but in some club full of queer people. The whole group is there, Pez got them matching kimonos. Alex’s says Hoe Dameron, Henry’s says Prince Buttercup. Aside from Henry singing Don’t Stop Me Now, Bea sings Call Me by Blondie, and Pez sings So Emotional by Whitney Houston in a “shockingly flawless falsetto”.

The lakehouse confessions happens while at night

The Kensington fight (after the lakehouse confession) is much more dramatic, they don’t go to the v&a that night, but the next night. That morning Henry got up early, and brought Alex coffee when he woke up. They made up.

Also Alex takes his coffee with cinnamon

Alex, Nora and Henry are gen z, while June is a millennial

[buckrecs]

Do you have any boxer!bucky fic recs?? Been looking everywhere and can’t really find much

Boxer!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

His Prize by @targaryenvampireslayer

Making an already sexually frustrated bucky even more frustrated is likely to lead to just more frustration, but…if you can wait… Bucky has plans for you after his win…

Angel by @toastedkiwi

your favorite fighter is in recovery.

The Fight by @bxcketbarnes

Love Hurts by @itsbuckysworld

Boxer!Bucky/ College!Bucky/ Boxer!Reader

fight club by @spidermanswifi

boxer!bucky where he gets knocked out in a match and y/n loses her shit because it was a cheap shot and she takes matters into her own hands.

more than worth it by @marvelous-fiction

Secrets and Fighters by @bucky-iss-bae

SERIES

Southpaw by @gogolucky13

Tied up in the criminal world your godfather has built, you have no reason to leave, until you find one in the man they call Southpaw.

Mess Is Mine by @scrumptious-delusion

as a date night surprise, your boyfriend takes you to a boxing match. little does he know, one of the competitors is responsible for breaking your heart five years ago and an accidental encounter is about to send your whole world spinning.

Fight For You by @revengingbarnes

At the annual local boxing championship, Y/N is the leading medical specialist on call. It’s a whole new environment, and despite the drastic change, she loves it. Bucky Barnes is the reigning boxing champion of Brooklyn. Virtually undefeated, this tattoo artist by day, boxer by night is someone that is now fighting his way into Y/N’s head. And she’s helpless in front of his winning streak.

[winterspiderpurrs]

Okay okay.... Uncle Ben was from Brooklyn. Let's pretend that he kept the apartment he grew up in.

He either sublease it or rented it out for extra income. Kept the rent cheap so the few different tenants he had ALWAYS took care of the place because who would want to get kicked out of an affordable place?

Let's say AFTER the latest tenants move out. There lease finally up and the need to move so they don't renew. May and Peter are cleaning the place with the debate of should we keep renting it out or sale it cause they could get a pretty good price for it.

Maybe while cleaning Peter discovered a lose floor board or baseboard. And he finds a hiding spot. And he pulls out a bundle of letters.

Old ones.

Letters that had RETURN TO SENDER- UNDELIVERED-U.S. Army Postal Service

All of these letters are for one James 'Bucky' Barnes.

There are some letters Bucky sent his sisters and parents. And good amount of letters that his sisters, parents, and even one from Steve, unopened, with return messages stamped on them. A pile of them, based on the dates it was right before he got captured the 1st time, before the camp. And even after he was consider POW and after the notice of his KIA letters went out.

Letters that were written, mailed and returned unread.

Well... it's time for Peter to find the newly recovered Winter Soldier to deliver him his missing letters.

[idontplaytrack]

Masterlist🔖

Updated master post is pinned! 📌

Index: 🤍-sfw • ❤️‍🔥-nsfw

Brooklyn Nine-Nine🚓

Rosa Diaz

“you’re a softie.” 🤍

“bye, softie jr.” 🤍

Tough 🤍

Hermosa 🤍

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit🤝

Olivia Benson

Bad Rep 🤍

Mama Bear 🤍

First 🤍

Sick 🤍

Mean Girls(2024)💄

Janis ‘Imi’ike

Closet ❤️‍🔥

all the things that could go wrong 🤍 *

good problem to have❤️‍🔥*

I Want Coffee ❤️‍🔥

‘…a lot of things happen in parked cars.’ ❤️‍🔥

Jersey 48 🤍

You & I 🤍

Jealousy, jealousy ❤️‍🔥

Watch Me❤️‍🔥

Animal ❤️‍🔥

Like A Koala 🤍

Pick Up The Phone 🤍

Back to Red ❤️‍🔥

Answer Me ❤️‍🔥

Heaven Lost An Angel ❤️‍🔥

Honeymoon ❤️‍🔥

"God, you're crazy." ❤️‍🔥

Sundress ❤️‍🔥

Band-aids, candy or me 🤍

Flaws 🤍

I'd Rather Be Me(and be with you) 🤍

Distress 🤍

Stronger 🤍

Goodby to Spring 🤍

Heels and shove 🤍

Revenge...party? 🤍

Talk Too Much ❤️‍🔥

Needy, Greedy, New York City ❤️‍🔥

Talk Is Cheap ❤️‍🔥

Your Favourite ❤️‍🔥

Twin Stranger 🤍

The Power(2023)⚡️

Jos Cleary-Lopez

Kissin’ U ❤️‍🔥

Flipping the bird 🤍

Sweet Revenge 🤍

Stress Eating ❤️‍🔥

Soaked ❤️‍🔥

Bruises 🤍

My Biggest Mistake 🤍

Hands Off ❤️‍🔥

Darby and the Dead(2022)🔌

Capri Donahue

Never Lost 🤍*

Listen ❤️‍🔥*

Backfired ❤️‍🔥

"Flowers? What for? 🤍

You Don’t Know Me 🤍

Snowed In? Step Up 🤍

Seeing Double ❤️‍🔥

Coming Home 🤍

Anything and everything 🤍

Crush(2022)🎨

AJ Campos

Safe & sound 🤍

‘Not even in your top 5’ 🤍

Her Work of Art ❤️‍🔥

Wait For You 🤍

Watch You Sleep ❤️‍🔥

Redeeming Win 🤍

My Girl ❤️‍🔥

Slow Hands ❤️‍🔥

Say You Won’t Let Go 🤍

I'll Take Care Of You 🤍

Midsummer Night 🤍

The Practice 🤍

Not A Word 🤍

Wrapped Around Your Fingers ❤️‍🔥

Play ❤️‍🔥

My Love, Mi Amor ❤️‍🔥

Charming 🤍

Into the future 🤍

The Good Girl ❤️‍🔥 [WIP]

Modern Family🖼️

Haley Dunphy

Stress Reliever ❤️‍🔥

Rise🎭

Lilette Suarez

Soulmate 🤍

Since We’re Alone 🤍

All Together Now🎙️

Amber Appleton

An Angel 🤍

Lost Cause 🤍

Birthday Morning 🤍

Delight ❤️‍🔥

Sing Me To Sleep 🤍

K.C. Undercover🔎

K.C. Cooper

Family Is Forever? 🤍

Bottle You Up 🤍

MY CHARMED ONE - CAPRI DONAHUE x FEM! READER MULTI-PART MASTERLIST

shenanigans- mean girls social media + texts fic

part 1: happy birthday

part 2: all this on a random friday?

part 3: you need some sleep

part 4: someone check on damian

part 5: go get laid then tell me

part 6: rules are rules lmao

part 7: meet my new bff

part 8: on main???!

part 9: one last date

part 10: my precious angel

part 10: alt ending

[real-jane]

you don't say

[bucky barnes x disabled!reader]

summary: you matched on a dating app, but you didn't tell him that you use a cane. bucky's response is not what you expected. it's better.

warnings: mention of smut, but mostly fluff and insecurity on both bucky and reader's part. autumnal vibes all around.

a/n: i became disabled in the last few years and i have really struggled with needing a cane to increase my mobility, especially where dating is concerned. i wrote this as a love letter to myself, and other babes who are processing what it means to accept love as a disabled human being. enjoy. <3

***

You didn’t tell him. 

If the last six were a good litmus, it was for the best. Apparently being that honest with a man you met on a dating app was to be avoided at all costs. The goal, ultimately, was to have him say: “You’re prettier in person,” and then flush like he was comparing the version of you in his head to the reality before him, and coming up wanting.

Bucky was his name. He hadn’t proposed anything rigorous–he liked coffee, as did you. It wasn’t like he suggested a Central Park marathon for your date.  You weren’t even sure how you matched; it probably happened when you left your phone unattended in the same room as Natasha–whose taste was much more varied than yours. Adventurous. It’s not that you wouldn’t have swiped in interest over Bucky, 39, Brooklyn. But not until he swiped first. 

That wasn’t entirely true. You remembered his face popping up as you doom-scrolled for Jesus, on a two day pajama pity-party bender. Consuming Norah Ephron films and cheap cabernet, you swiped right on any man with kind eyes who didn’t have a fish picture in his array. Which… the pickings were slim. But his face–Bucky’s–appeared beneath your thumb as Meg Ryan met Tom Hanks at the top of the Empire State Building on your third watch-through of ‘Sleepless in Seattle,’ and it felt serendipitous. Bucky, 39, Brooklyn looked very serious, and he had a white long-haired cat. You swiped. He swiped. He was nice in his first message…

Hi… I’m new to this, but it looks like we both hit the magic button.

So, there you were.

You arranged to meet at eleven–you were at the coffee shop by ten-thirty, so you could sit by the window and not have to walk towards him. You tucked yourself into the booth and stashed your things on the bench seat beside you, eager to meet the first guy who said yes to a date since you got back on the horse, so to speak. Nevermind that you hadn’t told him the whole truth.

When he walked in–ten minutes early–he scanned the little cafe until his eyes fell on you. His expression went from hardened and serious to… bashful, almost. He recognized you right away, and there was no way you could mistake him either. 

What was that thing about people being prettier in person? 

He was dressed in layers to combat Autumn in New York (comfortable in varying shades of blue and brown) with leather gloves on, which shone like they hadn’t yet been worn before that day. So like a native New Yorker to wear the same tattered coat… but quality, definitely an expensive peacoat which could last him several generations… but buy brand new gloves when the slightest chill sets in.

Bucky was scruffy, like he couldn’t quite bother to shave but every few days. You didn’t mind. When he approached, he had vibrant energy, like it was all packed up inside with nerves.

“Hi. Sorry. I think we had the same idea,” he said breathlessly as he approached. He held out his right hand to you. You grasped his fingers automatically, but he didn’t shake. He squeezed softly, and then pressed it between his own. 

“It’s Bucky. I’ve already had coffee. Too much. I was nervous. But if you still want some, I’ll just get decaf.” 

“Y/n. To be honest, I did the same,” you chuckled, nodding to the half-empty carafe on the table, which your waiter had left after the third refill in twenty minutes. “It’s nice to meet in person.”

“I don’t do this kinda thing, I gotta warn you.” Bucky shucked off his coat and slid into the booth across from you. The gloves remained. He had a loved but noble corduroy blazer on, over a henley. “Dating. I hate the whole conceit.”

“You’re two-for-two!” You grinned. “My roommate got me on the apps. They can be blamed for seventy-five percent of my daily dread.”

“What’s the other quarter?”

“Global warming, and getting shat on by pigeons coming out of the subway.”

“Fair,” he said, smiling. You dimpled at one another. “We don’t have to stay. We’re caffeinated, and I might start levitating, here. We could walk a bit?”

Your stomach lurched. “We could. Where?”

“Dunno. I’m sorry–I have no idea how to be out. We should just sit here for the requisite number of minutes before upsetting the structure of a date.” He smiled at you pleasantly, but it was clear how incredibly nervous he still was… and how unlikely it was to go away unless he could be more active. Which meant standing. Walking, some. Something which you were not prepared to do.

Bucky watched your expression shift. He sat forward and reached out to touch your forearm. “You okay?”

“So. Yes, um. Yes, I’m okay,” you sighed. “It’s still new for me so I’m figuring it out, but… walking long distances? Can’t do it. I could probably handle a short walk, but I’ve had a rough time the last week, so I don’t know how much stamina I have. Even with my trusted friend, here. So.” You showed the head of your cane above the table bashfully, and looked away. “Sorry–people get weird about this stuff, I’m finding out, so I don’t really say anything in advance.”

Bucky blinked for a moment, then he leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. “What do you mean weird?” His blue eyes narrowed.

“Suddenly unmatch. Tell me ‘it’s such a shame.’” You huffed. “Although it’s guys, on the whole. Women care less. But that’s beside the point–”

“Because of that?” He pointed at the seat beside you, where all of your belongings were stashed, and you knew what he meant. You nodded.

“I don’t say it in so many words. I’m not like–hey, just fyi, I use a cane, so deal with it or fuck off–”

“Why not? That would be a good way to separate out the weak and worthless,” Bucky said, but you could’ve sworn you heard a little touch of anger in his tone. He shook his head. “Doll… shit. Men are shit.”

“Yeah. They are. Sorry.”

“No, I’m shit, too. You can’t insult me when it’s true.” Bucky sat back against the worn cushion. “So, we going? Or are you going to talk me into an espresso to see if I can fly?”

“Sure. If you want to. I’m just slow–”

“Nonsense.” Bucky scooted out of the booth. “I grew up in this neighborhood. There’s plenty to do. And see.” He paused. “If this is insulting, just tell me to fuck off… You can lean on me.” He held out his elbow like an offering.

You could have cried. “Um. Okay.”

“Yeah? I–I would’ve offered, regardless. I like talking to you. I’ve enjoyed myself… through the phone.” Bucky scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “So. Even if you didn’t share, I probably would’ve tried to find a reason.”

“Really, I’ve just given you an excuse,” you said, tamping down a smile. He nodded solemnly.

“It’s thoughtful of you to spare me.” Bucky raised his eyebrows, waiting. The waiter breezed by, just then–

“You can pay at the front register!” the beleaguered hipster sighed, gesturing to the counter at which there was an extensive line. Bucky grabbed his elbow and fished a bill out of his pocket, slapping it in the guy’s palm. The waiter stared down at the twenty in his hand. “Great. I’m a human cash register.”

“Keep the change,” Bucky said. He turned back to you. “Do you get motion sick?”

“No?” You were clearly holding up whatever grand plans he was making in his head, so you hastily grabbed your things. Bucky liberated your coat from your hands and held it open. You stood slowly, leaning on the aid which had given you newfound freedom. Bucky smiled at you softly. He wasn’t impatient, just… excited. You slid your arms into your coat with Bucky’s help, and then curled your fingers into his elbow. His cheeks reddened. He had a boyishness to him which was endearing. 

“This okay?”

Okay? Well. If you considered the wafting warmth of sandalwood cologne and the soft weave of his woolen peacoat okay, then you were dandy. You nodded, feeling your own cheeks flush under his attentive gaze.

“Great. I have an idea, if you’re game. So.” He cleared his throat, ushering you through the front door of the shop onto the sidewalk. “Where do you stand on surprises?”

“Um. Hate ‘em, to be honest.”

“How bad?”

“Flash mob? My idea of hell.”

“K–In that case, I’m gonna call a friend, he runs a ride service. There’s a festival in bridge park–I keep seeing fliers for it all over. We could check it out.”

You couldn’t help the smile which pulled at your cheeks. If that’s the sort of surprise Bucky had in mind, you would’ve been charmed by it. But knowing how quickly his brain was working to improvise a date was impressive, so you squeezed his elbow. 

“Sounds fun.”

“Good. Okay.” His mouth turned up at the corner and his eyes crinkled. 

He quickly dialed a number he had memorized, but not saved in his contacts. It made you wonder how many other people he knew by heart, and what it took to be remembered by this Brooklyn boy. He didn’t say much into the phone, just the intersection you stood on. Bucky hung up abruptly and pocketed his phone again, clearly intent on hiding it away.

“He’s two streets over, it’ll be five minutes max.”

He was a horse-and-buggy driver, who had festooned his buggy with bales of hay and pumpkins bearing hastily Sharpie’d faces drawn on them by someone under the age of ten. When the carriage pulled up outside of the chain coffee shop, Bucky grinned, passing the coachman a tenner and ushering you into the four-wheeled hayride. The straw was strewn over the plush seating poorly enough to poke you in the ass, even through your coat, but Bucky was so excited to pull the plaid wool blanket over your legs that you tolerated the gluteal acupuncture. He stashed your cane beside himself, and pressed you close enough that your thigh pressed against his. 

“I went to school with Pat,” he explained, gesturing to the driver who was too far away to engage in conversation, but kept throwing back knowing glances at you and Bucky. “Kindergarten through the twelfth grade.”

“You really are in your neighborhood.”

“Yeah.” He blushed. “Never did get out, like I thought I would. Not complaining though. There’s a lot to love about Brooklyn.”

Bucky encouraged you to wrap your arm through the loop of his elbow again, and pointed out things to you about Brooklyn which had defied your notice prior. Brickwork at the pinnacle of a building, dating back to the 1920’s. A man dressed like a bush who stood on the street corner, blocking the walk button so no pedestrian could disturb his meditation. The fire hydrant he broke the bolt off senior year, flooding the sewer drains and causing rats to rush down the gutters like a parade of hissing floats. Halloween decorations in windows. Scarecrows mounted to telephone poles like they guarded a field of yellow taxis with as much aplomb as a treasury of corn stalks.

All the while… he distracted you. Little touches on your wrist where your coat met your skin with his soft gloves left you curling your fingers around air, and still he persisted. You studied his profile when he was distracted. With stubble and expression lines, he had character. He wasn’t stoic like you had thought him. Every inkling which crossed his brain was projected on his forehead like a drive-in feature just for you. And he kept smiling at you. 

You arrived at Brooklyn Bridge park having spent an eternity and no time at all in a horse-drawn carriage positively burdened with loose hay, but the tents and balloons and various sizes of gourds distracted you from anything but the Autumnal joy of it all. Stalls lined the park in a makeshift walkway, which smelled of pie spices and syrup, and crisping ham on a rotisserie, and campfire. 

When he helped you down from the carriage, placing your cane at your dominant side, Bucky instantly seemed to have a plan. Time passed like you were observing through a looking glass. He ushered a cup of cider into your hands, and then adios’d the empty into the garbage once you finished it. You dominated the hammer game, winning a massive plush gorilla. Which you promptly gave away to the first screaming child you saw, to Bucky’s amusement. He fed you funnel cake while you picked out your choice for the fastest piglet in a race which consisted of five piglets running around a kiddie pool. You lost–everyone did, when the piglets abandoned course to lay in the tepid water and snort bubbles at one another–but you left a lingering dusting of powdered sugar behind at the corner of your mouth. Bucky wiped it away without a second thought.

And so the date continued, with you floating beside a man whose eyes sparkled with delight every time you found joy in something. It didn’t feel like you had only met that day. You reached for his hand to express delight. He curled his fingers over your shoulder to wish you luck in the ring toss. Bucky–Barnes was his last name, you learned–was some kind of familiar fixture. He even bought you a coffee, and then brutally beat a group of sixth-graders at bobbing-for-apples.

It wasn’t until the sun tucked itself behind the rooftops that you realized dusk approached. Without needing to ask, Bucky summoned a cab. You had leaned on him heavily the second half of the afternoon, and opted to sit every opportunity you got. Yet… Bucky’s excitement never diminished. It wasn’t until you sat on the top step of your stoop that you realized it.

That was the best date you had ever been on.

And you sure as hell didn’t want it to end. The stars were out in force–as clear a night as you had ever seen in the city of light pollution, and yet… Orion’s belt… the pan handle of a Dipper… stars shone for you.

Bucky shoved his hands into his coat pockets in acknowledgement of the drop in temperature, while he balanced one foot up a step from you. He studied you through honest eyes–that is, he looked at you like he saw who you were without pretense. Which felt very vulnerable.

“Repeat the question,” you breathed.

Bucky smiled. “You date much?”

You shook your head. “No. To be honest, I don’t usually feel like it’s worth it. Putting myself out there. I’m sorry–I know it sounds like I’m wallowing in self-pity, but, uh. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. Being turned down. Because I use a stupid piece of metal to walk.”

“You could spend a lot of time feeling sorry for yourself, doll. And–that’s not to say you don’t have the goddamn right to feel some type of way about it. It’s your body, it’s not how you pictured your life going. Of course you’re gonna be sore about it. You aren’t alone in that. I’m just sayin’... Anybody who’d lose out on a chance with you because of something as insignificant as a tube of aluminum ain’t the type of person you wanna waste your time with anyhow.”

“It’s weird. I don’t disagree with what you’re saying, but. I dunno. It’s hard to think people exist who aren’t gonna be weird about a freakin’ cane.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Fuck’em. Waste of your time.”

“What about you? Are you a time-waster?”

“Worse. I’m a Brooklyn boy. We can wait out a stubborn dame with the best of ‘em.” Bucky braced himself on the railing. “Can I take you out again?”

“You’re gonna sit on my porch until I agree to a second date?”

“I–when you say it like that, I sound like a creep,” he chuckled. “No, I just… if you had a good time, and I really hope you did, I would like to treat you to another date. I took a wild guess on the festival idea, but I can think of a million other things. More than just coffee.”

“I was holding a coffee mug in my profile photo,” you laughed. “That was enough.”

“There’s more out there.”

“I had a good time.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

You watched his face turn from excitement to pure glee. His body angled towards you intensely. All his energy was directed towards you. It made your skin tingle, and all good sense fled from your mind.

“Just come in, Bucky.”

“You gotta say it, or I ain’t budging. This is all up to you, doll.”

“Yes, okay?” You leaned against the doorway with an exasperated sigh. “I had a great time. You’re adorable, and exhausting, and I’ve never had more fun on a first date. Or any date, for that matter. Please–come inside. Kiss me a little. I think you’re probably good at it.”

“It’s been awhile,” he admitted quietly, though he pushed off the railing to do as you bid him.

“Good. I don’t like it so formal–”

“You’re so cute.”

“I’m not–”

“No, it isn’t up for debate.” Bucky tucked a finger under your chin so you’d look up at him, given that your attention had fallen to the laces of his boots in embarrassment. His irises flicked back and forth, mapping every refraction in your eyes. “I know cute when I see her. And there’s nobody else in this whole damned city but you, doll.”

He kissed you as if that were true… as if he had stepped out of the subway to a world devoid of anything but a billion scattered golden leaves tracing circles on the pavement, and a girl with a cane who hates surprises. As if–in that dystopian and autumnal universe, that were heaven to him. Like he’d been looking for you in every empty coffee shop. Like he knew you, and it was only a matter of walking into the right store. It was soft, the drag of his lips over yours. At first he just ghosted a millimeter from your mouth, but then he needed to know… so he gave in. He didn’t spoil it with tongue too soon. Bucky discovered you.

You’d been kissed, but never at the world’s end. The world you knew was siphoned away. In this one? Well, kisses stopped time. Made leaves hang in the air between gasping breaths. Kisses were where the light got in. Where sun broke through clouds… where a girl who didn’t much care for vulnerability let a man she barely knew steal every little sound from her throat, out on her front stoop where anybody could see them.

You got the door open by feel, and stayed on your feet by virtue of the man with roving hands who backed you into the building. It was for the best that your apartment was on the first floor, because your knees threatened to buckle when his tongue worried the seam of your lips. He tucked the crook of your cane into the curve of his elbow when you tore yourself away to fight the finicky lock at your threshold. 

“I didn’t expect to have anyone over,” you said by way of an explanation for whatever mess might be found inside, but Bucky snorted.

“When are you gonna get it through your head?” He nipped at the tendon which helped form the curve from your shoulder to neck, making you shiver. “I don’t give a shit if all you got is a mattress on the floor. I like you.”

“I have a bit more furniture than that,” you giggled, “but I still appreciate you saying it.”

The moment you were inside the apartment, Bucky leaned back against the door and turned you, so you stood between his feet. He looked at you through heavily-lidded eyes. “Tell me.”

You turned your attention to the buttons on his coat as he saw right through you. “Bucky–”

“I think you like kissing me, but you’re skittish. If you’re freaked out…”

“I’m–shit.” You sighed. “I believe you. That you like me, I do. But I am so used to feeling like nobody is ever gonna want me back–”

“Impossible.” He cupped your cheeks. “Look at you.”

“Bucky,” you groaned. 

“No, stop it. I know what you’re doing. Oldest trick in my book. You think that a good thing is a lie, that it ain’t gonna hang around. I’m a really, really, really bad liar. Alright? My ears turn red.” Bucky smiled triumphantly when you chuckled. “I watched you drink a pumpkin latte today like it was the best thing you’ve ever had in your whole damn life and it cost me three dollars. You’re charming. I’m addicted.”

He kissed your forehead and you melted into his chest in resignation. “I don’t do this,” you mumbled into his sweater.

“What? Let somebody say why they like you?”

You shook your head, and pressed your cheek against his chest. “I’m starving.”

“Oh–doll, dammit, I should’a fed you–”

“No. I mean, yes, we should order something,” you laughed, “but. Just. Why?” When you raised your hand, gesturing to your general being, Bucky’s expression transformed from concern to… something gentle. 

He shrugged, but his shoulders fell heavily downward, and his fingers curled into the pockets of your coat so you wouldn’t pull away while he found the words. 

“Because–I just knew. You were simply a notification in a stupid app and I still thought about your profile picture waiting in my ‘likes’ for days. And we talked like it was an everyday occurrence, feeling your world shift its axis. I didn’t talk to a single soul on that app but you, sweets, and I tried my damndest not to jump the gun on asking you to meet in person. Imagine my delight when you agreed. I was so terrified last night that I hardly slept, but I never thought once about feeling… self conscious, all day. It–I don’t feel that way with most girls. Safe, I guess. And I may not know what the hell I’m doing, but I’m not a guy who ever feels like I can trust a person and I’m pretty prepared to lay down naked in the street if you tell me that’s what you want–”

“Not necessary,” you said, smiling. 

“Well, that’s a relief.” Bucky brushed his thumbs over your cheeks. “Doll–I’m so sorry that anybody ever made you feel like you got some kinda worth to live up to. It makes me so angry, but then I think–who’s that for? What’s the point in me being angry at somebody who isn’t gonna change their mind… especially when it means that I get a chance.”

“Says the handsome guy with perfect teeth.” You winked at him when he scowled.

“I’m tryin’ here–”

“You’re wonderful,” you whispered. You smoothed over his bottom lip with the pads of your thumbs. “I’m… thank you.”

Bucky leaned forward until his forehead pressed against yours. “I’ve overwhelmed you.”

“No, sir. I just need a second. To acclimate to the idea.”

“I can go–”

“Please. Please don’t.” You tugged him towards the living room, slowly walking backwards and giving him every opportunity to wrench out of your grasp and run. But he didn’t break eye contact, no. Bucky kept pace with you, toe-to-toe. “We’ll watch something.”

“Spooky movie?” he suggested.

“...I’m such a wimp,” you admitted, and he let out a quick breath.

“You can hide under my arm during the scary parts.”

“So just bury myself under you the whole movie, got it–”

“If that’s what you want, doll.” Bucky smirked as your knees bumped into the lip of the couch, causing you to sit abruptly against the cushions. You still had a fist wrapped in the placate of his coat, so he fell forward, catching himself on the arm rest and hovering over you. You watched intently as his tongue whetted his bottom lip absent-mindedly, and you had to bite back a groan.

“That’s what I want. Bucky.”

***

A long time later, when your body was so sensitive that you shivered beneath him, Bucky hopped up… pantsless, still wearing his sweater, but peachy ass exposed to the air so he could run to the bathroom and find a soft cloth. When he returned to you (with a towel around his waist, suddenly bashful), he bore a damp washcloth in his left hand, which… you sat up slowly on your elbows to watch the reticulated fingers on his left hand as he cleaned you with soft strokes over your thighs and bit his lip… asshole. You smiled at him softly when his eyes flicked up to yours. 

“You gonna tell me about it, or wait for me to ask?” you murmured, sliding the cuff of his left sleeve up his bicep, exposing a charcoal and gold metallic limb to the dim light. 

Bucky didn’t say anything at first. He lifted you beneath the knees, and behind your back. He had no choice but to shower with you (since you woefully lacked a bathtub), as cleaning you both was clearly his priority, so he sat you on the edge of the porcelain counter to help you fully undress. He did so with a type of reverence which felt undue… but you were reminded that he didn’t look at you through the same lens with which you viewed yourself. Especially when he trailed his fingers over your softness like he didn’t feel worthy of touching you. 

But then, he stepped back from you, and he shucked his sweater.

He didn’t look you in the eye once he was fully exposed to you. He studied the tiles under your toes, and his hands didn’t seem to know whether to rest on his hips or try to hide his flesh from you, so he fidgeted. Which meant he didn’t see you reaching for his left hand, and when you did so (threading your fingers through his metal facsimiles), he looked like he might cry.

Bucky was an amputee. With a gleaming prosthetic extending from his clavicle to the tips of his left fingers, so intricate and complicated a design that it must be something experimental and custom-made, just for the likes of a soft-hearted Brooklyn boy.

“You’re beautiful.” You meant the raw words, even though they escaped your lips unbidden. 

Bucky squeezed your hand. “I’m not.”

“You don’t have to agree for it to be true.”

He looked at you, then. An agreement passed between you, unvoiced. I’ll say about you what you can’t. I’ll hold for you what you won’t. I’ll touch you again, because I want you, all of you–the flesh and the metal and the weak and the kind. Especially the kind. Of course Bucky understood you. Your heart-wounds took different guises, but they pulled the same strings.

When he knelt at your knee, it was supplication. It was obvious when he bowed his head to kiss the skin above your heart. Your heart had known his forever, it seemed. 

“A long time ago, I didn’t have a choice,” he said, so quietly you could only make out his words because you had coaxed him up to meet your lips again. “I almost died. I–god, I never thought I’d live or touch somebody again. And then you. I can’t explain this to people–” He rolled his shoulder like the limb was hurting him, and maybe it was– “without inviting them to look at my naked fuckin’ heart.”

“Is it heavy?” You ran your finger the length of the connector, where metal met his skin and cupped his pectoral. You meant the arm, but the way his head bobbed… you inclined your head so you could catch his lips before his spirit fell one iota further. It was a kiss of knowing. Understanding, without words.

“I can take it off,” he breathed against your lips.

“So do it.”

Bucky sat back on his heels. Then, he looked you square in the eye and detached the prosthetic arm. It wheezed as it lost power, the moment its circuits no longer drew power from his body’s natural electric whims. You held out your hands, and he set the thing across your open palms. It was lighter than you expected, but still hefty. You could only imagine how it pulled at his muscles, unnatural as it was. It was incredible, but then–so was the man with an empty prosthetic socket, who sat at your feet like he hadn’t hastily fucked you on your own couch at the end of your first date. Like sex was a small exchange when there was a soul resonance at hand. If you said it out loud? It would sound insane. Holding Bucky’s cheeks in your hands, though… 

“I like sushi,” you said softly, “and any carbs, really. So. Jot that one down, for your date ideas. And I’m a fabulous co-pilot if you like road trips. I love Upstate. I excel at floating down a river on an innertube–”

Bucky pushed up between your knees so he could reach your lips and he kissed you senseless. “Doll–”

“Shhh, darling man,” you smiled against his mouth. “I am addicted.” Parroting his words back to him made Bucky beam. “Stay the night. Surprise me in the morning. I don’t care. You’re everything I didn’t think I deserved and–and I’ll keep you. To spite Me.”

Bucky laughed. “It will be a pleasure to help you get revenge on yourself.”

***

Thanks for reading! :)

my masterlist - my bucky barnes masterlist

like what I do? buy me a coffee on ko-fi. :)

bucky barnes tag list: @peterhollandkait @honeywithemoney @eloiseishere @nahthanks @dracosluvbot @dracris33 @searchf0rtheskyline @goldylions

[peaches2217]

🥰 Saying 'I love you' without saying it (Brotherly Mario and Luigi moment!)

YEEEEEEEEEEES! BROTHERLY LOVE LET'S GO!

Freak

AO3 link!

~~~

Somewhere in Brooklyn, sometime ago...

Mario was a mess.

He held his head high, and the spark behind his one good eye told Luigi he considered himself victorious, but he hadn't come out of that fight cleanly in the slightest. His knuckles were split open in three places. His shirt was torn and the collar was stretched beyond what a good washing could save. Thankfully, all of his teeth were accounted for, but he still spit blood every few minutes thanks to a split lip and what was probably a nasty bite to the inside of his cheek.

The further he tended to those wounds, the more Luigi panicked.

"Oh man. Mom's gonna freak." He wiped his brother’s bloodied hands clean as gently as possible; Mario was careful not to show any signs of pain, but he couldn’t hide the trembling in his hands. “Wh— what are we gonna tell her?”

Mario didn’t answer right away. He kept his jaw tightly clenched until Luigi decided his skin was clean enough, easing up only when the younger twin reached for the bandages he’d purchased in haste from the nearest convenience store.

“We’ll tell her the truth,” he said. “Some low-life decided to pick on the wrong guy and I wasn’t gonna let him get away with it.”

He clenched his jaw again as Luigi went back to work, wrapping broken skin in cheap gauze. He wouldn’t have much use of his hands until their mother could patch him up more expertly, but that was okay for now, he decided.

With any luck, she wouldn’t pry. All she’d care about was lecturing him — Mario, mio figlio irascibile, use your words, not your fists! — and then grounding him for the next month or two. That would be ideal. She didn’t need to know the reasoning behind his latest (and, to date, most violent) scuffle. He wasn’t ready for her to know.

Staring down at Mario’s hands, comically stiff from an overabundance of wrappings, Luigi felt a telltale stinging behind his eyes. “You fight for the dumbest things sometimes.”

“I don’t think someone spreading rumors about you is a dumb thing to fight about.”

The stinging became uncomfortably pronounced. Luigi bit his lip and fished through the plastic bag by his side once more, grabbing the water bottle hidden beneath rubbing alcohol and ointment and bloodied tissues.

“...It’s not just a rumor, is it?”

Luigi’s breath hitched. It had been phrased as a question, yet Mario’s voice lacked curiosity or incredulity, laced with a strong but not harsh I knew it sort of tone. Suddenly he didn’t have the nerve to look at him. He simply handed the bottle over to him and wiped the condensation off on his shorts, doing his best not to give into the desire to curl up into a ball and roll away.

It was his own fault. Like many other pre-teens, Luigi had a diary. Most of what he wrote within its pages was common knowledge, or just his own attempts at working through his thoughts. Most of what was inside, Mario already knew. The one secret he kept from his twin brother was tucked into its faux-leather covers. He’d stupidly believed it would be safe there.

An hour after realizing it was missing from his school bag, that secret was plastered on the library bulletin. By lunchtime it was on everyone’s lips: Oh my God, that Luigi kid’s gay! Always knew there was something wrong with him.

And three minutes after the final bell, the one who outed him was pinned to the ground in the courtyard receiving the beating of a lifetime. Had Luigi not found the strength to pry him off, he was almost convinced Mario would have killed the guy.

“You’re a freak!” the battered bully had shouted at Mario, Luigi’s diary splayed open and speckled with blood beside him. “Just like that— that fucking queer you call a brother!”

Mario was hurt, and he was going to be in massive trouble, and it was all Luigi’s fault. All because he was too chicken to keep it internalized, all because he was the weakling that always needed his brother, all because he was a fucking queer and any and every other derogatory accusation that had been thrown his way today. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them tightly and focused all of his energy on not crying, not here, not now.

“Weegee… why didn’t you tell me?” Mario’s voice was oddly soft. Was he upset? Was he sympathetic? He had no reason to be sympathetic. Luigi sniffed.

“Guess I didn’t want you thinking I was a freak, too,” he confessed. Mario and Luigi against the big, wide world. It had always been that way. He couldn’t stomach the thought of that changing, of Mario seeing him differently, of losing him for it. He would have kept this under wraps his whole life if it ensured that never came to pass.

An arm wrapped around him suddenly, and Mario pulled him in, jostling him almost painfully.

“Oh, give me a break, Lu,” he said. “You know who’s a real freak? Mrs. Loriey. She’s got a whole shrine set up to Robert De Niro in her supply closet! Photoshops herself into pictures with him! She’s probably shopped his face onto pictures of naked guys, let’s be real.”

“Mario!” The thought was shocking yet plausible enough that Luigi couldn’t help but laugh. Mario made a victorious noise and jostled him again.

“Or literally anyone who gets a kick out of putting other people down,” he continued, his voice getting lower as he spoke. “You know how desperate for attention people like that have to be? Imagine always thinking ‘How can I ruin some schmuck’s day so I can feel all high ‘n’ mighty?’ People like that aren’t just freaks, they’re losers, plain and simple.”

Luigi nodded, and though the first of his tears began escaping, his smile stayed strong. “So you don’t… think I’m a freak?” He chanced a glance sideways, where he found Mario smiling at him. The skin around his black eye was pale and wet where he’d held the water bottle to it and his split lip made his smile look awkward and crooked, but he knew well enough that it was genuine.

“Nah. But you know what you are?” he asked, squeezing Luigi’s shoulder. “You’re my bro. And I’ll always have your back, okay?”

He reached his other arm around to pull Luigi into a proper hug, and Luigi returned it without hesitation, sniffling and willing his tears to slow.

It had always been them against the world, and that wasn’t changing anytime soon. As far as bad days went, he decided that this one wasn’t so bad after all.

[butterfliesandblueeyes]

MEANT TO BE

👙 You thought the man you met at the coffee shop was perfect for you. That was until you discovered something that said otherwise.

pairings : Bucky Barnes x reader

w/c : 1.1k

warnings : stalking, Bucky

a/n : As always, I hope you enjoy reading and thank you for the support!

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

"Ah fuck," you groaned as as your coffee soaked into your white blouse. Napkins were pressed against you by the stranger who knocked into you. 

"I'm really sorry. I should have been looking where I was going," he ranted on, his cheeks reddening.

You looked up, locking eyes with the handsome stranger. "It's okay, it was an accident," you reassured him. 

He sighed as he ran his hand through his shoulder length brown hair. "Well I'm Bucky," he introduced himself as he continued dabbing the napkin over the stain on your blouse. You gave him your name which put a smile on his face, his charming smile making your own appear.

"Let me buy you another coffee?" He offered.

"Oh no that's okay-" 

"Please. It's the least I can do," Bucky interrupted. 

"Okay."

 ‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

"I was actually on my way to a job interview since I recently moved to Brooklyn," you told Bucky as he sat across from you drinking his coffee. 

He placed his mug down on the table before speaking. "Oh wow, now I feel really terrible for ruining your outfit,"

You giggled. "Don't worry about it, this blouse was cheap at a thrift store, plus I didn't really like it." He gave you another one of his charming smiles. You had only known him for about a half hour but you were already wishing he would never stop smiling. "I should thank you actually. I didn't really want the job either but it was all I could find."

"Well you're welcome," Bucky said in which you laughed. Bucky cleared his throat before speaking. "Hey uh, I know this is really sudden and we've known each other all of five minutes but I'd like to get to know you more," He sighed before continuing. "Would you like to go out tonight?".

Your eyes widened. Was he asking you on a date? "Of course I'd love to go out with you Bucky," you responded, sounding a bit too excited for your liking. 

"Well that's good," he exhaled. 

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Your first date with Bucky came and went. It was an amazing night. He took you for a walk on the beach then to see a movie and dinner afterwards. It was probably the best date of your life. 

Now here you were, standing in front of your mirror picking out an outfit for your 6th date with Bucky. He invited you over to his place for dinner. You had a feeling tonight was the night he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. 

With that being said, you went shopping earlier today to buy a lace bra and panty set with a matching robe. If he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend you wanted to show him how happy that made you. Just thinking about Bucky finally being between your thighs made slick dampen your panties.

"Stop it, save it for tonight," you lectured yourself. 

You chose some ripped jeans with a knitted sweater that showed some cleavage for tonight's outfit. 

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

"That was amazing Buck," you said as you placed your knife and fork on the now empty plate. 

"Thank you doll, I'm glad you liked it," he said before he took a swig of his beer. 

Before you could speak again, a knock came to the front door of his apartment. 

"One sec," he said to you as he put his finger in the air. He got up from his chair and answered the door as you looked around his apartment. You took in the picture frames that hung on the walls. Most photos were of him, a blond man and a black haired man, sometimes a red headed woman appeared. 

"Doll," Bucky's voice interrupted your thoughts of who the woman was. You turned to face him.

"Yes?" you answered with a smile. The old lady at the door gave you a small wave in which you returned.

"Just going to help Mrs Webster move her couch in her apartment, okay? I won't be long," 

"Mhmm," you hummed in understanding. 

As soon as the front door was shut you shot up from your seat and speed walked towards your handbag. it was stuffed full of the lingerie set. You pulled it out and walked down Bucky's hallways to change into it before he came back. 

You didn't know the layout of his house so you didn't know which door led to his bathroom or bedroom. You opened the first door on the left. 

Stepping into the room, a shocked gasp left your lips. You dropped the lingerie set onto the ground as your now free hand covered your open mouth. Pinned on all four walls were pictures of you. Some pictures were taken of you when you still lived in your hometown and some pictures were taken when you were in Brooklyn. There was a picture that was taken the day coffee was spilt on you. The day you met Bucky. 

The front door slamming made you jump and face an angry Bucky. "Oh doll," he tsked before taking a step towards you. "You really weren't supposed to see all this,"

He moved closer to you as you stood frozen in the threshold. A split second decision had you slamming the door shut and locking it before Bucky could reach you. 

Tears made tracks down your cheeks as your back was pressed against the door Bucky was pounding his fists against. 

"Stop it please!" you begged. 

"Open the door, let me explain all this to you," he responded. 

"Just let me go home," you cried. His banging stopped but was later replaced by the lock unclicking. You ran towards the other side of the room and the door was kicked open. 

You slid down the wall, hugging your knees as Bucky stepped into the room. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. He spotted your matching lingerie on the floor. He bent down and picked it up. "Oh sweetheart. You were gonna wear this for me?" he said as he came to stand in front of you. He kneeled down beside you, wiping your tears away as they fell from your reddened eyes. "Well aren't I just lucky,"

"Please let me go," you begged as he cupped your cheek. 

"I can't baby, you need me to protect you," Bucky said. You shook your head.

"Please," you begged again. 

"You wanna know why you?" he asked before continuing. "Well it's those eyes. The first time I saw them I could tell you had a lot of pain hidden inside your heart, a lot of trauma. Just like me. You see, we were meant to be. We're the same, we get each other. And this past month has proved to me that we're meant to be," 

A sob escaped your lips at his words. Just how long had he been watching you?

"Now c'mon. Let's get you cleaned up then I wanna see what you look like in this outfit."

[mikeyforreal]

some random adrian chase head cannons :P

a/n: just some random thought about my favorite crime-fighting goofball :)

cw: fluff, some cussing, a few depictions of violence

miscellaneous hcs

• okay so first off, i know this isn't really a head cannon but james gunn confirmed that the visor in vig's suit is prescription and idk i just love that fact

• anyway, real head cannons now

• i'm like 99.99% sure he has a playlist for when he's on patrol and makes chris listen to it with him

• also, i think he'd have the same wired earphones from like 2014 that came with his iphone 6

• adrian's favorite candy is probably skittles or m&ms because of the fun colors (sometimes he likes to sort them if he's feeling a bit bored)

• i just know he has a collection of vhs tapes that he bought from a secondhand store/had as a kid

• speaking of collections he probably also has a bunch of cd's

• i dunno why but i feel like adrian loves star wars and has since he was little (and also has all the og trilogy movies on vhs)

• definitely has a cheap walmart lightsaber lying around somewhere

• GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY !!!

• i feel like as a kid he loved finding bugs, digging for worms, ect.

• one time he tried eating one, didn't turn out good for him (he couldn't stop throwing up for like 3 days)

• since it's cannon he played/plays dnd, he'd probably play magic, the gathering as well 😭

• i also think that he'd really love the artificial grape flavor ??

• LMAO i think he'd have a little chainsaw keychain lying around somewhere

• def listens to abba, spice girls, and yung gravy

• probably good with kids? he'd set the the house on fire if he watched some but he can keep them entertained at least ?

• manchild (i will not elaborate)

• he reminds me of jake peralta from brooklyn-99

being best friends/in a relationship with adrian

• let's face it, they're practically the same thing

• i justttt know that he made like 10 secret handshakes for the two of you

• his love language is probably words of affirmation, quality time, or touch (maybe all of them, who knows)

• wants to teach you how to play mtg and dnd !!! (please let him teach you he'll be over the moon)

• def has a playlist that he wants to listen to with you

• two words: movie dates

• adrian loves watching movies with you !! even if he's seen it a few dozen times, he'd watch it again just to see your first time reactions :)

• THEMED COSTUMES !!!

• if you're down, he'd want to match with you ever year, something different and cooler than the last

• if you wear glasses, you better bet your ass that he's switching with you 24/7

• you cant go an hour without your glasses getting taken off and replaced with his

• also, i think that adrian wouldn't have the cleanest glasses 😭 you def gotta give 'em a good scrub every now and then

• dr. pepper enthusiast fs

• discounted/sometimes free food and fennel fields

• if you can work from home and go there often just to eat and work, he's definitely spending his 15 minute breaks (and longer than that) sitting with you and chatting

• he's always bringing home leftovers or breadsticks that he stole

• i think adrian has a pretty decent comic collection, and would go to shops with you for dates or hangouts

• he's probably super good friends with the owner (or at least that's what he thinks)

• when he's patrolling, he randomly facetimes you???

• like he has a guy near death and he's having a full conversation with you

• adrian has tonsss of silly and random nicknames for you !! he just calls you whatever you remind him of

• whenever he goes over to your place or vice versa, you two have a special knock that lets either of you know immediately who it is

• one of his ideal dates would probably be going to the park and feeding ducks !! (and him trying to catch them)

• he also randomly makes machine gun noises ?? what's that about ??

• the two of you'll just be chilling watching tv or something and then you hear 'CHCHCHCHC' and see him doing finger guns or whatever

• and when you ask him about it he's just like "what do you mean babe?"

• would probably beg you to get a little cat or a dog

• if you initially say no, he's gonna pull out a whole powerpoint presentation on why you should say yes (and he's wearing his fanciest clothes)

• FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS !!!

• it doesn't matter where or what they look like, if he sees some at the gas station, store, theme park, wherever, he's buying some for the two of you

• your relationship is basically that one scene in bobs burgers scene where tina makes a friendship bracelet for louise and tina's like "oh you don't have to wear it" and louise snatches it and says "no i'm gonna wear it forever, back off"

• proud malewife

• adrian is in the kitchen a lot, always fixing up snacks for you

a/n: let me know if i should make another one of these with another character !

[stereotypcs]

𓏲  *   ⸺   pictures of damon jaehyun park,  the  twenty-seven  year  old  formula one driver,  have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to rumored tension in the championship team after a fight was overheard between the two teammates post race — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their red bull team hat as the only spark of color in his otherwise all black attire, pulled together by his signature leather jacket, they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more charismatic than impulsive. their critics say that they’re more mercurial than dauntless when they aren’t too busy focusing on their ichor that burns in your veins , a hunger barely contained , a rage fighting for freedom ; the roar of the engine as the lights go out , a contrast to how still you become as hard-earned skills takes over ; flashing a smile that is equal parts charming and dangerous ; they warn you that like icarus you too shall fall but you only sour higher and higher - you were not so foolish to forge wings of wax. reputation.com has taken to calling them achilles in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).

basic information.

full name: damon jaehyung park. nickname(s): dae ( close friends only ). age: twenty-seven. date of birth: march 29th. birthplace: new york city , new york. astrological sign: aries. gender & pronouns: cis man , he / him. orientation: heteroromantic , heterosexual. languages: english , korean , some french & spanish. occupation: formula one driver for oracle red bull racing , current & three time world drivers' champion.

personality.

positive: charismatic ,  dauntless ,  driven , clever , adventurous , flirtatious , bold. negative: impulsive ,  mercurial ,  arrogant , combative , headstrong , unforgiving , fiery. moral alignment: chaotic good. temperament: choleric. mbti: entj - the commander. enneagram: 8w7 , the maverick.

family ties.

father: christopher park , mechanic , deceased. mother: mina park née kim , nurse. siblings: none. family financial status: grew up middle class , his success in formula one has elevated their financial status. pet: duke , a male boxer.

history.

when damon park rose to prominence in the world of motorsports, no one would be able to say nepotism or legacy had anything to do with it. born to working parents in brooklyn, his life initially looked fated to be nothing out of the ordinary. but then his father was employed as a mechanic for a formula one team when damon was five and he was exposed to the world of motorsport for the first time. all it took was going to one race with his father, in monoco of all places, and damon refused to stop asking his parents if he too could race. his mother was hesitant, knowing how dangerous the sport was, but eventually agreed.

he was six when he started karting and seven when he entered his first competition. it wasn't a smooth road at first. not due to skill, but rather money. maintaining a kart and traveling wasn't cheap, and money wasn't something the park family had in spades, but they made it work. eventually, damon started winning not only races but titles and championships, proving himself against others in the league, making a name for himself, and getting signed to a karting team. throughout it all, his father was his biggest supporter. they worked on maintaining damon's kart together, discussed strategies, and christopher, who was still working in f1 and therefore traveling with the team, did his best to attend every practice or competition he could. when damon wasn't competing, he was often traveling with his father, his parents having agreed to homeschool him so he could dedicate himself fully to his dream.

the stars seemed to be aligning; he had graduated from karting to formula three, and he also joined the red bull junior team. it was all but confirmed that the next year he'd be brought up to formula one, skipping over f2 entirely, as a driver for red bull's secondary team, torro rosso. and then his father got sick. it was sudden and fast. damon barely had time to come to terms with the fact that his father was terminal before he was gone. the loss hit hard. were it not for his mother keeping him from acting rashly, damon might've left racing altogether. it'd always been something his father and him had done together whether it be watching races, working on cars, or discussing strategies. but grief faded and was replaced with determination. his father wouldn't have wanted him to give up so he wouldn't; he'd make history.

he didn't look back after debuting as a formula one driver at only seventeen years old. the entire time damon kept his eyes on his goals the entire time, adding victory after victory to his resume until he claimed his first world drivers' championship, followed by his second the next year, and his third the year after. the eyes of the world were on him. some of his fellow drivers preferred avoiding the spotlight but after working so hard to get to where he was, damon loved it, embracing the more glamorous lifestyle his growing success provided him, always having a smile for the cameras, so long as it didn't interfere with his racing. he might've been considered the golden boy of f1 were it not for his quick temper, because for as cool behind the wheel and charming off track as damon could be, his temper was just as fiery. if an article wasn't writing about his latest victory or public appearance then odds were damon was making headlines for getting into fights, normally verbal but he was caught throwing a few punches over the years.

inevitably it led to conflict amongst the team, particularly when damon and his fellow driver began getting into more arguments recently. his manager would tell him he needed get a better handle on his attitude, but damon knew that with his reputation and success, he wasn't really at risk of being dropped from the team. he's at the top of the world and has no intentions of coming down anytime soon.

headcanons.

known for his fearless and daring driving style. his overtaking skills are considered legendary amongst the f1 community. also well known for working with the team to plan out his race strategies, including adapting the plan mid-race based on how the car is feeling.

it's very rare for his temper to show itself during a race. his radio messages to his engineer normally calm regardless of what is happening on track, which then causes surprise when, if damon disagrees with the team instructions, he simply ignores them or when post race he'll confront another driver for a racing incident despite sounding calm when it happened.

mama's boy. the first big purchase he made with his winnings was to get her a penthouse apartment in new york. has told her repeatedly that she doesn't have to keep working but she insists she wants to.

actually a skilled mechanic in his own right. he likes to fix up cars in his spare time.

extremely charming. damon knows how to play the role for the cameras, and he plays it extremely well. but he can also turn it off equally as fast if someone pushes his buttons regardless if the cameras are still rolling.

isn't afraid to flirt and has dated casually but only had one serious relationship that ended suddenly two years ago and quickly became a topic that his team tell interviewers they aren't allowed to ask about.

owner of am act first, think second kind of mindset.

his go to mode of transportation is his motorcycle.

hates being a passenger when someone else drives but he also doesn't know how to drive slow so not many people like when he drives.

a huge adrenaline junkie! always up for going on an adventure. the bigger adrenaline rush it provides the better. during the off season, he often goes rock climbing or snowboarding.

has a good heart beneath his rough edges. the people who he is close to quickly discover that damon is incredibly loyal and protective; his friends are his family.

[84reedsy]

A Friend Date

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7888

Characters: Kevin Nash, Scott Hall, FemOC (Brooklyn)

Pairings: Kevin Nash/FemOC; Scott Hall/FemOC (implied)

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Consensual Infidelity, semi-public sex

“For some reason, it's really important to Scott that we are friends and can get along,” Brooklyn had trouble saying the simplest of things to Kevin Nash without an attitude creeping into her tone.

“We can fake it in front of him. At least, I can,” Kevin crossed his arms, defiant to her olive branch. Just because Scott was smitten with her didn’t mean he had to be, for that reason alone he often resisted returning any kindness out of spite.

“You can barely look at me without sneering” she pointed at him, “See? You just did it,”

Kevin resisted rolling his eyes, which would only further her point. He wanted to wipe that smug smile from her face. That's probably the way she often felt when he was around. He couldn’t blame her but couldn’t be bothered to change his ways at this point.

“Fine. How the hell do we do a ‘friend date’?” He gave in though the words were full of disdain. Seeing Scott outside through the kitchen window reminded him quickly that would do anything for his long-time companion. Even if it was willinging subject himself to an evening with her.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I guess we go to dinner or movies or the beach or something.”

“I doubt we'd pick the same movie…” he said judgmentally, “no chick flicks,”

“Oh no of course not,” she said sarcastically, “because you're much too deep and introspective,”

“You know I was doing you a favor agreeing to this, but I'm thinking it's a bad idea now,” he opened a beer and started to walk towards the door to the patio. Even though she and Scott had met on the road, Kevin didn’t share the same camaraderie with her, he didn’t feel obligated to play an audience to her.

“God, I’m sorry,” she went after him grabbing his arm, “Please, for Scott if anything. Just dinner or whatever,”

“Fine, Tuesday, I'll pick you up around 7,” he agreed, sighing loudly.

“What should I wear?” She asked, wondering what shitty dive he'd drag her to.

“Something a little nice. Low cut, maybe they'll comp our meal and I'll get outta this pretty cheap,” Kevin surmised.

“There's that classy reputation I've heard so much about,” she rolled her eyes towards his back as she followed him out to the patio.

Kevin couldn't deny how happy she seemed to make Scott. The smile across his friend's face was genuine when she came out of the house and she went right to him, wrapping her arms around him as soon as she reached him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been greeted like that. To say it made him bitter wouldn't be a lie, but more than anything, it made him envious.

She was too young for Scott, he reminded himself. 20 years his junior was too young to take anyone seriously. They were barely dating before Scott moved her into his house. Kevin had his reasons to be mistrustful.

--------------------------

“He agreed to it, by the way,” Brooklyn said as she got ready for bed, Scott emerging from the bathroom in a towel. She grinned at him with his black hair loose around his face and shoulders. Ever since she mentioned that she liked it down, he had been wearing it that way a lot more.

“Agreed to what?” He asked, confused at first, “Oh, going out together?”

Brooklyn could hear a subdued excitement in his voice. She knew Scott cared about her, but she knew how much Kevin meant to him, too. She never knew why Kevin never warmed up to her while they toured the pro-wrestling circuit together. She was nothing but nice to him then, but the closer she got to Scott, the more standoffish Kevin became. Sure, she could understand some jealousy, but these were full-grown, middle aged men; she expected more maturity out of them.

“Yes, we're going to dinner Tuesday,” she watched Scott like a hawk in his towel, any chance she had to see his body she took without apology. His physical presence made anything else on her mind seem to disappear.

He dropped the towel and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs, but chuckled when he saw the look of disappointment on Brooklyn’s face.

“What? You get to wear that little number to bed, but I gotta be naked?” He scoffed a little as she crawled up on the bed and kneeled at the edge of it.

Brooklyn looked down at the silky teddy he'd just bought for her.

“But it won't stay on long…” she reasoned, “I just wanted you to see it on me since it was a present.”

“Well aren't you just a good little girl,” he stalked toward her.

She found herself grateful that he'd put on those boxer briefs, they presented his bulge so well that it made her mouth water.

“How the hell is Kev supposed to keep his hands off of you when you look this good,” he licked his lips looking at her.

“Don't worry….Daddy…he won't see me like this,” she mewled at him.

Scott growled audibly at her, he still was extremely aroused by the new name she used for him. He was already half-mast, but he felt the surge of rigidity. Grabbing a handful of satin, he pulled her to him.

“God for a good girl you're so naughty…”

--------------------------------------

Tuesday

“What about this?” Brooklyn checked her angles in the mirror as she tried on yet another outfit. Scott watched amused, comfy in sweats and a t-shirt.

“It's cute, I've always liked that dress on you…” he thought about how often he had trouble keeping his hands to himself if she was in any kind of skirt. He knew Kevin well enough to know he had the same problem, “What about that red one?”

“The red one?? Scott, that's like skin tight and all lace,” she looked at him incredulously, “It's basically lingerie.”

“He might find it harder to be mean to you if you look like a fucking sex goddess,” Scott reasoned.

“Well that would make sense if I was trying to fuck him,” Brooklyn rolled her eyes but disappeared back into the closet.

She paired it with a skintight white slip dress underneath the sheer red lace. She wound half her hair up and secured it with an onyx zanzi and dug out white heels. They would give her a couple inches, but Scott (and Kev) would still tower over her.

Scott whistled a low, long tone when she walked out of the closet. She spun for him before going to the mirror again. She could tug at the bottom hem all she wanted, it wasn't going down any further.

“Look at your ass in that,” Scott hummed a hungry vibration in his chest, “put a bow on that and call it a gift to mankind,”

“Stooop,” she blushed, but didn't really mean it. She looked at the low scooped neckline that packaged her breasts as well as her backside. She thought of what Kevin said about earning a free meal…this certainly could do the job with the right waiter.

“I wouldn't blame him for fucking you if you wear that,” Scott lounged further down in his chair, “hell any warm blooded man for that matter,”

“He wishes,” she mumbled, “I can't handle the man I've got, I don't need anyone else,” She smirked back at him, “Plus, remember what I wore in the ring? He didn’t want to fuck me then, he’s not going to now,” she reasoned.

“It's not gonna bother me if you do,” he said honestly. He knew what made Kevin tick. He knew he'd understand what she was to him if Kevin could see her the way that Scott did. He'd understand if she acted the same way to Kevin for just one night.

“What are you trying to say?” She looked at him apprehensively, “You're not pimping me out to your buddies now are you...” She started to head back into the closet.

“Brook, wear that,” Scott stood walking towards her, “you've already got it on and you look so hot in it,” he made an obvious pass over her with his eyes.

“You didn't answer my question,” she said with a suspicious stare, backing out in their room.

“I'm not nor would I ever ‘pimp you out to my buddies’. If I was, Waltman would pay a pretty penny, “ he teased to her scrunched face, “just teasing…” he got amusement out of her reaction.

“So what's all this about screwing Nash?” She felt a nervousness in her gut that made her feel self conscious.

“Baby…I'm not saying you should. But I want you two to have fun and get to know each other. Have a couple drinks. Show him who you really are. Just be you. If you do that, I'm just saying I couldn't resist you, how can I expect him to?” Scott tried to reason, knowing he was doing a poor job. Her skeptical face confirmed this.

“What if it does? I don't want to hurt you …”she stopped there, already upset by the idea of causing him any pain.

“This is different, trust me,” he slipped his arms around her sides, “I just want you to let loose and have fun. He'll see what I see then.”

Brooklyn still wasn't convinced, but she nodded to placate Scott. The doorbell caught both of their attention. Scott left to answer it as she finished her earrings and lightly added subtle eyeliner. She didn't know what compelled her to change her simple panties, but she slipped on a cheeky satin pair instead.

She carefully went downstairs, getting used to the heels. At the bottom waited Scott and Kevin. It was quick, but she could have sworn she saw Kevin gulp. But he was definitely looking, and looking at everything. Scott pretended like he didn't notice.

“There she is,” Scott smiled up at her, proudly beaming over her attractiveness.

“Evening,” Kevin said, clearing his throat. He stared her down as she stopped on the last step to keep her height closer to his.

“Good evening,” she answered politely. Scott had to stifle laughing at the contention between the two of them, “Are you ready? We should probably get going,” she was not up for small talk.

She kissed Scott on the cheek goodbye, Kevin walking out the door first and going to the driver's side door.

“Geez Kev, your mom raised you better than that,” Scott shook his head as he crossed his arms leaning against the door frame. He could see Brooklyn was already irritated, but she hid it well.

“She's capable of getting her own door,” Kevin excused his lack of chivalry, “See?” He said as she opened her own door. She gave one last look of annoyance toward Scott, before rolling her eyes and getting in.

Kevin tried to focus on driving, glad he brought his 5-speed Lexus. Shifting gears kept him somewhat distracted from the amount of bare leg in his passenger seat.

“Nice dress,” he said, still not looking directly at her.

“Thanks,” she tried to adjust the hem in vain once again, “just something I had in the back of my closet,” she looked over at his wardrobe selection now.

He wore khaki shorts and a crisp, but plain white t-shirt, not an unusual male outfit for the sweltering humidity of Florida. His hair was done perfectly and his goatee looked freshly trimmed. His cologne smelled incredible, one of those scents that one would find themselves leaning in to catch more of.

“You look nice, too,” she returned the compliment honestly, “I feel like I should be getting hair tips from you,” she complimented him as she remembered Scott's wish that she be herself.

“Yours has always been nice, I should be asking you,” for someone who always knew what to say, he was certainly having trouble finding words to fill the silence.

She started to reach for the radio, but remembered her manners even if Kevin forgot his, “Do you mind?” She motioned towards the knobs.

He shrugged, accelerating and shifting as they merged into the highway, “Feel free,”

She fiddled with the stations until a familiar tune floated through the speakers. She had no idea what kind of music he was into, but figured I'd he was too opposed to it, he'd say something.

As T-Boz started her quick, husky lyrics, Brooklyn felt more relaxed, her leg keeping a slow time with the beat. Kevin side-eyed her movements, noticing the subtle movement of her hips. He looked away quickly when she caught him.

For some reason, catching him relaxed her. He was just a male, not some impenetrable force of nature.

“This is tight,” he complimented her, always a sucker for R&B, “Who is this?”

“TLC…how do you not know TLC??,” if anything they had similar tastes in music, “You into this kinda stuff?”

“Hell, I'm from Detroit. Motown. Birthplace of this music,” he spoke reactively, being himself though he was trying not to, “I’ve heard of ‘em, thought they were more of a pop girl group though,”

“We have to get you Crazy, Sexy, Cool. It's a great album,” She started to feel a bit more comfortable now, “I've only been to Detroit when we were on tour. Never got to spend much time there.” She was feeling good about making conversation.

“It's home, but it's cold for way too long,” Kevin didn't elaborate, essentially shutting down the exchange.

Brooklyn tried again a few moments later.

“So where are we going?” She looked out the window, trying to figure out where they might be headed.

“It's a Jamaican place up here on the lakefront.” He vaguely gestured to the south, “Good, ethnic seafood and shit”

Brooklyn was expecting a parking lot with a food truck at this point. But the swanky restaurant outdid her menial expectations of him. Clearly it was elevated island food. At least the valet opened the door and held his hand for her. She almost jumped when she felt Kevin's large hand on the small of her back as he led her in.

“Jumpy much?” He snickered, before speaking with the hostess.

“Not used to you touching me without it being in the form of a powerbomb or chokeslam,” She reasoned, “Usually expect something violent,” She smirked knowing the hostess probably would take her words out of context. Kevin furrowed his brow angrily, knowing how she was making him look. Her smirk only confirmed it was on purpose.

The hostess only blushed as she handed off their menus to an assistant server, not making eye contact with Kevin again.

“I’ll be lucky to get out of here without getting arrested,” His teeth were gritted slightly and she could feel the heat of his glare on her, but it did little to reduce her smugness.

She sat in the chair that was pulled out for her, glad it wasn’t Kevin as she’d likely have ended up on the floor. She glanced at the wine list the maitre'd held.

“The 1972 Malbec, please,” She was met with an approving head nod from the maitre’d before he turned to Kevin, who looked at her almost disapprovingly. It was no Cristal, but it was far from their cheapest.

“Just bring a bottle of it,” He caved, at least this way it would be cheaper per glass.

“A whole bottle, what exactly are your plans?” She said as they were left alone for the moment.

“If you think I’m going to go through this whole night sober, you’re wrong. Gonna at least need a couple of glasses to tolerate you.” He sipped on his glass of water.

“Wow, just keep layering on the charm,” She put her hands on the table as if she were going to push away and stand. Kevin reached his foot out, catching the lip on the bottom of her seat and pulled it forward roughly so she was pinned to the table.

“We agreed to this, don’t get all pissy about it and think you’re going to bail. You’re stuck with me tonight, kid,” He reminded her. He lowered his leg slowly, feeling her knees trying to close.

“Rule #1 then, don’t call me kid,” She lowered her voice, but maintained a serious tone, “I’m not a kid, your buddy Scott knows that real well,” She smiled as the sommelier poured their glasses expertly. Kevin couldn’t help but glance at her cleavage as her arms inadvertently pressed them together even more. Scott had always been a fan of tits and he could definitely see the appeal there. Her ring outfits had never been conservative, but something about being in dressy, but regular clothes and not a costume made him view her differently.

“Fine, you’re not a kid, Brooklyn,” He said her name and it felt oddly personal to say to her. She seemed to react to it similarly. He grabbed for his glass, but stopped short of drinking when she cleared her throat.

“Shouldn’t we toast to something?” She reached for her glass now, holding it up from the table slightly, “isn’t it bad luck not to toast?”

“Fine,” he held his glass out, “To an…unusual woman… who makes my friend very happy and for that I am grateful for her,” He offered, noting the subdued surprise on her face. The corner of his mouth couldn’t resist a smirk.

“To a man that the love of my life considers family, that I hope to one day as well,” She hated saying such vulnerable things, but it was the truth. The glasses clinked and they each sipped, their eyes darting away from the other. They both knew that such statements would make things awkward and they had been right.

The wine warmed her tongue, throat and belly, and seemed to simmer her discomfort with her company.

“So…do you hate me because I take up too much of Scott’s time?” She asked blatantly.

Kevin sputtered in his wine a little, managing to keep it in the glass.

“Jesus, no,” He started, before bending to her unconvinced gaze, “Maybe partly. It's been him and me for a long time. I have my family, but Scott’s never been the -” He knew he was going to sound harsh and selfish, “ he’s never been the stable one. I was the guy he could count on to be there.”

“And if I’m the real deal, then you have to figure out the role of just being a regular friend?” She surmised. It was true, but he still didn’t like it.

“Honey, you haven’t seen everything yet. There might be nights you’re calling me for backup.” He knew Scott was in a different mindset now and the truth was, he had no idea if he’d fall back on those old habits if he was in a state of domestic bliss.

“And if I did?” She tried to ignore the spite in his voice, “If I called you for help, would you show up?”

Kevin took a long drink of his wine, “I would. But for him more than for you.”

Brooklyn exhaled in frustration. Just when they seemed to be heading towards some small but significant breakthrough, he had to return to disparagement.

Brooklyn excused herself to the bathroom and silently screamed into the echo-y void out of irritation. She could understand feeling threatened by a woman. This was nothing new in the realm of men’s relationships. But Kevin was being purposefully obtuse. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the balls if only to see something else on his face other than contempt.

She leaned on the counter staring at herself in the mirror. She thought of Scott’s roundabout ‘approval’ that tonight was a ‘free pass’. He might have looked at her tits once or twice, but she couldn’t imagine Kevin was thinking of anything close to fucking her. She thought it far more likely that he might throw her in the lake to the gators.

“Be nice. It irritates him more when he doesn’t get to you,” She said aloud to herself. She adjusted her dress in the mirror, smoothing out the lace and pushing up the bust.

“You the one here with that super tall stud?” A lady walked into the bathroom as she was adjusting.

“Yeah, that’s my date,” She tried not to spit out the word.

“Girl, I ain’t ever seen someone stare at an ass like he was you. I mean, congratulations on it,” She complimented, “But you definitely got the upperhand on that man,”

Brooklyn grinned at herself, the girl code was a marvelous thing.

In her absence, Kevin had ordered for her and though she was miffed at first, when he revealed what he’d ordered, she settled her ruffled feathers. It was not a cheap dish and shrimp happened to be one of her favorite foods.

“I didn’t forget that time you out ate Norton in boiled shrimp,” he recalled, “If anything I have to respect you for that,”

She tried to let her irritation roll off her back, remembering what was said in the restroom. Perhaps he was lashing out because he was attracted to her and felt guilty about it. Lashing out would be a natural response. The idea seemed to make a lot of his behavior fall into place. Maybe Scott knew it, too and was trying to lead her to the same conclusion. She held her tongue for now, still managing polite conversation.

She played the part of a gracious date as he paid a surprisingly half-comped bill. He knew her kindness and subversive flirting was likely the cause. She seemed to easily enchant any man that came near her if she felt like it. Why she chose to be such a bitch to him was a mystery.

“Maybe because that’s a valid response to you being a dick to her first?” his subconscious suggested, but he brushed it off.

Once again, the valet opened her door, though for a moment Kevin seemed to head in the direction of doing so, but side-stepped when he was beaten.

“Where to now? Or have I worn you out for the evening?” She questioned, holding the door handle tightly as he got up to speed quickly. The sudden movement was exhilarating if not a little alarming.

He had to side glance at the way her thighs flexed when she braced herself.

“Don’t let her get you all worked up now,” His logic spoke up.

“Country Club down the shore a little ways, they have a private club. Quiet, private kind of place.” He shifted into the next gear, grinding it a little.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The club was dimly lit and had nicer furniture than she’d seen before. She was sure the leather sofas were worth more than her car. There were several alcoves around the edge of the space, partially obscured by heavy, dark red drapes that were secured to one side. They were led to one after Kevin spoke with a well dressed host.

Other patrons were in various levels of formal attire, if anything Kevin looked underdressed, but she assumed money bought leeway with some things. The alcove was raised from the main floor and she was surprised that it was Kevin’s hand that was held out to help her step up.

“Those heels look dangerous,” He reasoned, motioning for her to pick her seat. Two cushy black brushed suede chairs were nestled in one corner flanked by a matching loveseat. A rich, wood low level table separated them from the edge of the alcove.

“They aren’t not dangerous, thank you,” She agreed with him.

She sat, crossing her ankles to keep her legs together. Sometimes she had to purposefully remember etiquette after spending so much time on the road with wrestlers. She saw Kevin mumble something quietly to the host while handing over a small stack of folded bills.

Moments later a tray with expensive champagne and strawberries was brought. She raised her eyebrows at the gesture, though confused by his mixed signals. He poured her a glass after dropping in a strawberry.

As he settled back in his chair with his own glass, Brooklyn couldn’t stop the urge to break his composure.

"I think I know why you actually hate me" She sipped the bubbly sweet liquid.

"Can't wait to hear this" He was surprised by her sudden and direct statement, thinking they'd already covered this at the restaurant.

"Because you're jealous." She tried to subdue her wicked, knowing grin. She was amused by the sour turn of his face.

"Me. Jealous. Of you. " He scoffed at the ridiculous assumption as if it weren’t true.

"Not really of me... but...of Scott kinda" She shrugged, leaning her chin on her hand as her elbow rested on the arm of the chair, ‘It’s understandable though,”

"What the fuck are you talking about? Scott’s like a brother, but we all know I have more going on than him" Kevin replied with a contrived superiority.

"Which is why it ticks you off so much! " She didn’t falter to his cocky manner, still confident in her assessment.

"Why what ticks me off?? Fuck off with your riddles, jesus christ" He cursed, feeling the weight of her judgement.

"That from the first moment you saw me,” she made a point to make eye contact, “you wanted to fuck me so bad that you could taste it. And Scott beat you to it." She returned her own cocky attitude, taking a longer drink without taking her eyes off of him.

"Is that so..." He leaned forward, his arms on his knees, scoffing again.

"And the worst part for you is, the first time you saw me tonight you thought the same thing. And now you're mad because you're dick is hard as a rock and there's nothing....you...can do....about it"

Kevin’s ears were ringing with her words and was livid about how true they were. He knew his anger was surfacing as his breathing labored under the building wrath.

"You're about to find out what I'm gonna do about it. And Scott's not here to save you” He warned her.

“What exactly is it you plan to do about it, Mr. Nash?” She took a strawberry from the table and bit into it slowly, letting her lips linger on the juicy red fruit.

He set his glass down, with an aggressive clink that was probably not far from shattering it. Eyes on her, he lifted his hand and motioned with a finger. At that moment, the drape slowly lowered, completely obscuring them from the rest of the room. The only dim light came from two sconces glowing faintly on the wall.

Though she had expected turnabout, she couldn’t help but wonder if he could see her chest rising more quickly as the silence between them thickened.

Slow rhythmic music softly sailed from hidden speakers. She didn’t dare break the stare first.

Kevin downed the rest of his champagne in one large gulp and stood. He was such an imposing man, more so when she was sitting looking up at his towering frame.

He held his hand down to her. She looked at it and back up to his face.

“Get up,” he said, motioning for her hand with his fingers, “You owe me a dance.”

Still with her eyes on him, she set her glass down and reached to slip her hand in his. She stood, one hand sliding to his bicep, the other he held in his hand. She came up to his chest, just slightly lower than Scott. She maintained the slightest gap between them as his other hand slid around her torso.

“How do I owe you a dance?” She asked with a much more submissive tone than before. His cologne was still like a welcome incense.

“For dinner,” He reasoned, looking down at her, “and for busting my balls the last three hours,” he said but did not laugh, his face increasingly serious.

“You know I don't like that,” she still felt the tension from his mood, but struggled against smirking as he raised an eyebrow, “Well…maybe I do…but I don't like that I like it,”

“I don't like how you make me feel,” Kevin said, his firm tone contradicting how gently he was holding her, she looked at him confused, “You make me so damn aroused every damn time I see you. I want you so bad most times I have to beat it twice in your bathroom just to maintain. And then I feel like shit because you're my best friend's woman and what kind of friend does that make me,” his teeth were nearly gritted and she somehow felt safe and in danger in the same moment.

“I didn't know you felt like that,” she admitted, having only picked up on the seething hatred. She had noticed Kevin made frequent bathroom trips but never assumed anything out of the ordinary. She felt a tingle between her legs thinking about him self-pleasuring out of desperation.

“I shouldn't. I should be able to just be friends with you. At least cordial so that when I come to my buddy's house I can watch the game without thinking about you the whole time or insulting each other constantly.” he breathed like the admission was a weight off his chest but a stone in his gut, “Scott has never treated me or any girl I've been with like this, “ he winced referring to his wife as part of ‘any girls’.

Kevin pushed her away and turned his back taking a few steps while running a hand over his face then through his hair. Telling her this wasn't reducing his culpability and if anything it was making it worse having to look at her in such a sexy little dress.

“This was a mistake….I need to take you home.” He stood with his back to her still, his hands on his hips now as he cursed his stupid mind.

He shuddered when he felt her hands lay flat against his back. They rose slowly, curving over the round of his shoulder.

“Brooklyn…. You shouldn't touch me,” he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Sit down,” she said so softly and gently that he nearly groaned, her hands pressuring his shoulders slightly.

“Brooklyn,” he protested weakly.

“Sit, Kevin….please,” she stepped closer to him, her breasts grazing his back.

He conceded and sat on the love seat, silently watching as she stood between his splayed legs.

“Close your eyes,” she said, leaning forward, her fingers grazing down over his eyes, “Close ‘em,”

He did so, his other senses acutely aware as she straddled his lap. With the slow music, she moved her hips in time with it, her hands crept over his chest and torso. His head fell back against the frame of the couch as he focused on feeling her against him. He'd had lap dances before, but nothing this sensual, nothing that made his breath shudder from his lips like this. He tried to hold still, but his own hips rolled in time with her. His hands gripped into the couch, nearly puncturing the fabric.

Brooklyn kept the pressure of her hands soft, grazing over his neck, face, and threading through his hair. She could tell she was working him up, but she wasn't doing herself any favors either. She was impressed that he hadn't touched her, but the way his hand gripped the arm of the loveseat, she knew he wanted to.

“If you want to touch me,” She whispered, “You just have to ask,”

His fingers twitched and she knew he was fighting his own inner turmoil. She felt the hem of her dress riding higher and higher as her thighs spread wide across his lap. She separated the lace from the white slip and shimmied it over her head. It was just as tight, but the fabric alone showed the obvious hardened tip of each nipple as it hugged her breasts tightly.

She pulled his shirt from where it was tucked in, running her hands underneath it. She felt the radiating heat of his skin, drawing a strained sigh out of him.

“Brooklyn…. Can I touch you…please god dammit let me touch you,” he sounded regretful to ask, but she could see he was about to burst.

“Yes, Kevin…touch me,” She spoke softly to him. His large hands did not waste time, surprisingly going to her waist first, but it made sense as he pushed her down more firmly against his lap. She felt why immediately as the khaki cloth stretched over his stiff member. But they wandered swiftly. She couldn't help but moan as his hands gripped her scantily covered ass, squeezing and massaging it roughly.

She grinded against him slowly, wondering if he was going to remain submissive or at some point take control. She would see how far she could take it before he lost his composure.

She raised enough that one of her tits hovered above his face, she ran the cotton covered nipple over his slack lip, the weight of her breast grazing his chin.

He moaned, his eyes still closed as his head leaned forward, mouthing her breast. With his teeth, he pulled the fabric down enough to nibble on her bare nipple. His hand slid back to her hips, pushing her down hard against him as he dry humped her harshly. She held on to him for stability as his tongue swirled around the rosey peak and her sex gyrated against his.

“Fuck… Kevin,” she moaned, “fuck…stop, please god, stop!” she begged, losing the fight against cumming already. Kevin slowed for a second, before she grabbed his hair and changed her tune, “Fuck it…don't stop,” she encouraged him to keep going as she pressed her sex firmly against him, “Kev, I'm cumming!” She whispered in a high pitch as she felt her juices dampen her already slick panties.

Kevin opened his eyes just in time to see pleasure etched on her face as she gripped his arms tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him securely as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. She bit her lip as she looked down at him.

“I…I didn't mean to do that yet,” she mumbled. From the haze in Kevin’s listless gaze she would have thought he'd cum, too.

“Do you know how hot you look when you cum, fuck,” he said with a hungry look in his eye, “did you get wet?” He asked, licking his lips.

Brooklyn grinned mischievously, “I guess Scott didn't tell you about that part,” she slid down him a little, his parted lips beckoning her.

“I told him I didn't want to hear anything about you…it'd only make me want you more,” He admitted. He kissed her back insistently as her mouth pressed to his. The kiss was breathless and needy, his hands pulling the slip down her body so the entirety of it bunched at her waist.

She parted from his lips long enough to beg in a whisper, “Put your hand in my panties,”

“What??” He had her nearly naked in his lap, yet couldn't quite believe his ears.

“I want you to feel what you've done to me,” She sat back enough for him to slip his hand down the front. He first found her freshly smoothed skin, but quickly found the molten wetness coating her sex.

“Jesus christ…” he slid his fingers further, massaging her sensitive bud and making her squirm, “ Wanna cum for me again?” His own words rung in his ears now, almost unbelieving that he actually said them.

“Yes…make me cum, Kev…I'm so close,” She felt the tingles building before he even touched her, the direct contact sending her to the edge again quickly. His intense gaze wasn't helping to subdue it either.

Her hips rolled her sex against his wiggling fingers and she arched her back and let her head fall backwards as she came. His free hand massaged her firm tits as he felt her pussy coat his fingers with fresh wetness.

Her legs were shaking, but she managed to stand, pulling the slip down her legs and letting the panties fall with it. She started to step out of the heels, but Kevin stopped her.

“Leave ‘em on…it's hotter that way….” He looked up and down her naked body, jealous that Scott had full access to this all the time, but at the same time totally understanding her appeal. The slit of her pussy glistened with the wetness she elicited for him. His fingers were still sticky with it, but he wanted to taste it from the source, “Please let me lick that pretty little pussy,” he scooted forward, his hands holding her hips.

Brooklyn stepped her legs slightly more apart and put her hands atop his head, guiding him to her. His wide, strong tongue licked the length of her slit, flicking past her clit and suckling lightly on it as she whimpered.

“Kev…oh fuck…Kev….” Whimpering his name only made his tongue more spirited.

Not wanting to waste the slick on his fingers, he circled her entrance with them, before slipping them inside and shallowly fucking her cunt. Her knees wobbled, but she stayed on her feet as she felt a tickle surge into the sweltering heat of another orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, but didn't stop as she recovered, moving his head back just enough to have an amazing view of his fingers sinking into her pussy.

“Are you gonna let me see that cock I've heard so much about?” She cooed, running her fingernails through his hair. He looked up at her, still slowly working his fingers. He could see the pleasured reactions on her face still.

“What have you heard?” He slowly slid his fingers from her.

“Essentially that you're basically going to rip me in two,” She chewed her lip, “but I'd like to see for myself.”

“We…we can't undo it…if we do this…” he seemed still slightly apprehensive

“You've made me cum three times and had your mouth full of my pussy…I think we've already passed too far…why stop there when I know you're dying to fuck me?” She tilted his head up to look at her, she could see the inner turmoil in his eyes, “Right now it's just you and me,” he leaned his forehead against her stomach, “And I really want to feel you inside of me,”

He clenched his jaw as he stood, kissing up her body as he went. He slipped off his shirt, loosened his belt and dropped his shorts to the floor. She couldn’t help but look at his muscular frame and proud chest. She gulped at the heavy hanging shaft between his legs, far too large to ever stand on its own.

“There's a lot to get inside of you…” he warned the obvious now. He led her to the back of the love seat, perching her ass on the top of the back of it, putting her at the perfect height for him to penetrate easily.

Her breath quickened as he used her juices to slicken his shaft, directing it into her slowly.

“Holy FUCK…” she hissed, trying to keep her voice low, but found it nearly impossible as he continued to fill her. She pressed her palm against his torso and he paused, another third left to go.

“Ever had one this big, baby?” He puffed his chest a little, knowing it was unlikely.

She shook her head, her breathing shaky as he withdrew and slid back in slowly. Her eyes rolled back as he thrusted gently and slowly.

“Never that big…” She murmured, balancing precariously on the edge, her legs spread wide around him.

“Fuck…this pussy feels so damn good….” his legs trembled with restraint as he quickened his thrusts, hoping to sneak another inch or two inside of her.

“Kev…it's…it's too…” She bit her lip to keep herself from talking, flirting with the edge of her pleasure threshold.

“Am I too big for you, baby?” He hummed at her, seeing in her face that she wanted it all even if she couldn't handle it. He held her hips, harshening his thrusts now, letting out the frustration that had been building all night.

He knew other people could hear her whimpered moans, but his generous tip bought him more privileges than them.

“Yes…” she gasped, “but, don't stop,” she begged, breathless.

He still had a couple of inches to force into her, but he waited, thrusting rapidly now into her once again, freshly soaked pussy.

“Cum on my cock like a good little girl, that's it, squirt all over me you dirty little whore,” when she did exactly as told, he knew dirty talk was her trigger. As her orgasm subsided, he slipped out of her completely, much to the protest in her expression. He stroked his slick cock quickly.

“Bend over like a good little slut,” He commanded, aroused by the visual of her bent over the couch in her white heels and nothing else. He stepped behind her and slipped in his entire length, trapping her between him and the couch she had nowhere to escape.

Brooklyn covered her mouth, but her pussy ached in the best way. Kevin's hands held her shoulders as he rocked her with powerful, deliberate thrusts. He felt all his frustrations melting away as she begged for him to fuck her harder.

He lifted one of her legs over the back of the couch, drilling her deeper still and feeling her shake with an earth-shattering orgasm that made her pussy grip his dick tightly. She groaned primally as he knew he was fucking her to the edge of consciousness.

Brooklyn could hardly manage his invasion into her body. His cock slid deeper and deeper inside of her inching past what she thought she could handle. His large gripping hands held her captive though she didn’t want to escape this welcome torture.

“I wanna feel you cum,” She begged, not caring who, if anyone, heard her on the other side of the curtain, “please cum in me, Kev…”

He groaned at the request, his logic knowing better, but it was drowned out by the drive of his sexual prowess.

“You want my cum? You want it in that slutty cunt? I'll give it to you baby,” he pressed his hand in the small of her back, burying his large cock to the hilt and forcing his cum deeper within her womb than anyone had ever before.

“Kev!” She moaned his name loudly as his cock penetrated her deeply and spilled stream after stream of his stored seed, filling her tunnel until it seeped out and dripped on his balls.

She tried to catch her breath, her body at it's limit as her muscles trembled. She nearly came at the movement of Kevin slowly withdrawing, managing an airy laugh as she slowly lowered her nearly cramping leg. She turned, leaning against the couch, still out of breath as she looked up at Kevin who was in a similar state.

“I don't really think those things about you-” he started, but Brooklyn stopped him.

“I know…I know…it was just talk,” She offered an understanding smile. She laughed again as her leg momentarily spasmed, “I might need.. something…” She looked around, knowing he'd left a hefty deposit behind.

He reached for a stack of folded cloth napkins and flicked on open, parting her legs a little. She reached for the napkin, but he held it firmly. She gasped a little as he ran it slowly up her now delicately sensitive slit.

“You don't have to…” She gasped again as he passed back over.

“It's the least I could do…it is my mess after all…” He seemed to have found his generous side. If this is what she had to do to earn his kindness, she wished they'd done this much earlier.

Her panties were nearly soaked and she laid them to the side as she slipped on the white under dress and shimmied the lace over it. There was something oddly intimate about watching her redress.

“So much for these…” She murmured at the cold, damp satin, looking around hopefully for a trashcan.

“Do you mind,” Kevin stepped up only in his shorts as he buckled his belt, “if I have them?” His eyes were trained on the ball of green fabric.

Brooklyn couldn’t believe the surge of confidence and arousal she felt at the idea of Kevin coveting her panties secretly. She was glad she had changed into a cute, sexier pair… At least for his sake.

“I don't mind at all,” She handed them over to his open and waiting palm.

He poured them each another glass of champagne and she downed it quickly, her thirst demanding hydration. He made a mental note to stop and get her water or something.

She was embarrassed as she thought of walking out in front of all the people in the club, knowing they had probably heard everything.

“Trust me, I took care of it…” Kevin tried to calm her as he slipped his shirt back on and fixed his hair.

It was the first time he'd said ‘trust me’ and meant it without sarcasm. Maybe Scott knew what he was talking about all along. She took Kevin’s outstretched hand and crept from behind the curtain, using his frame as a shield. But the room was empty, save for a few workers who didn't even look their way.

The ride back was quiet, but comfortable as they listened to the Keith Sweat album he selected. When he didn't have to shift, he rested his large hand on her thigh and she didn't seem to mind. She smirked at the glovebox occasionally, knowing the green satin that was concealed inside.

It was late by the time he pulled up in Scott's driveway, welllllll after midnight. But the porch light was on and through the glass surround of the door, she could see the glow of the den TV. Scott was still awake.

She started to get out, but Kevin locked the doors, walking around to her side. She rolled her eyes, but did so smiling this time as he opened her door.

On the porch she turned to tell him goodnight, but he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep, intense kiss. She held onto his shoulders for balance, left unstable at first when he parted.

“I had a great time…I'm glad we did this. “ He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, “Scott's lucky he found you,”

“I'm the lucky one, Kevin. He makes me really happy,” She looked towards the door smiling, “I'd do anything for him,”

“Believe me…I know you would,” Kevin chuckled, nodding towards the door, “Get inside before I get any other ideas,”

Brooklyn leaned up and kissed his cheek, “G'night Kev,” She said softly before going inside.

Kevin felt a sense of relief and clarity as he drove away. He'd been skeptical of the whole idea, but he had to admit, Scott might have known exactly what he was talking about.

[ahappydnp]

Hey i hope it is okay to ask you this, do you think tickets will get cheaper closer to the show date? i live in nyc and wanna go to the brooklyn show so i can totally do last minute like buying tickets the morning of the show (it doesn’t seem to be selling out lol), i have not been here for previous tours and don’t really go to concerts much so do you have any idea if the day of it super cheap because they know if they don’t sell it’ll be a waste of that seat anyways? (sorry i hope this makes sense i fear im taking a simple question and making it complex)

i'm not totally sure how it works with the direct venue sales but you can definitely try! also people will probably be reselling their tickets closer to time at a discount on @/ticketsdan!

fingers crossed!!! (and hope to see you there :D)

[storiesofsvu]

Unexpected Judgement Ch 3

Warnings: Language

Casey was quick to call you a few days later, and it wasn’t just about french toast. Over the next few weeks you spent as much of your free time together as possible. There wasn’t much, but you both seemed to have relatively free weekends, just enough time to squeeze in a late dinner date or adult themed sleepover at one of your apartments. She simply adored spending time with you, obviously you felt the same, and it wasn’t long before you asked her to be your girlfriend, which she very happily agreed to. 

The first time you brought her to your apartment she was surprised that not only you lived in such a nice area, but that the apartment itself was as gorgeous as it was, New York wasn’t exactly cheap. When she commented on it you simply mentioned that you’d been lucky enough to have parents that were well off, the alimony and child support bumping that up even more. She’d meant to ask what your parents did for a living but you’d very easily distracted her with your lips and fingers.

Today you’d had just enough time to schedule a quick coffee date, not quite enough for lunch, but enough to actually get to see each other during the week for once. You got there first, ordering for both of you before you grabbed a small table in the corner. You weren’t sure how long Casey was going to be so you pulled out your notebook and phone, digging into details on how you’d be able to help your last client the best. You were so engrossed you didn’t notice your girlfriend until she was dropping into the seat across from you.

“Hey!” She greeted you breathlessly, humming in satisfaction at the caffeine boost, “Sorry I’m late, arraignment was super backed up today, ran way over.” 

“Arraignment?” You quirked a brow as you took in her appearance, this was the first time you’d met up during the middle of the work day, she was dressed in a particularly gorgeous pantsuit, crisp white blouse underneath the blazer.

“Yeah,” She started, waving her hand, “It’s a pre trial—“ You were quick to cut her off, laughter evident in your voice.

“I know what arraignment is, I just…somehow didn’t know you were a lawyer.” Your brows scrunched as you thought to yourself, how on earth had you not realized your girlfriend was a lawyer?! You knew her work hours had been a bit sporadic over the last month, but somehow the topic of work barely ever came up. It was starting to make sense as you both probably dealt with over stimulating things all week, by the time the weekend rolled around you just wanted to enjoy each others company (not to mention a certain level of confidentiality when it came to your career).

“Oh..” Casey began, now too realizing she’d never mentioned work with you, “You watch a lot of lawyer shows or something?” She asked, pertaining to the fact that most people didn’t know what arraignment was. You shrugged, tearing off a chunk of the muffin in front of you.

“I’ve had to take the stand a few times in Brooklyn, provide my psycho analysis” You finger quoted that bit, “Of a victim or a perp.”

“You work with the NYPD?” She questioned, it was nearly bizarre how you’d been together this long and knew so little about each other’s career fields.

“Occasionally.” You replied, taking another generous sip of your coffee, “Technically I work at a private practice here in Manhattan but Brooklyn likes to call me in if they’ve got a client of mine, or if they think my expertise could be helpful.” You chewed on a piece of muffin, thinking the thought over, “I’d never thought about it when I got into the field, then one of my clients got arrested and I got called in. The shrink in Brooklyn said it seemed like I was a good fit, said if he wasn’t available to call me instead.”

“Hmm…” Casey took in the information over another gulp of coffee, she was about to speak when your phone pinged, you glanced toward it, brows furrowed before you opened the text.

“Shit…” You muttered, “I’ve gotta go!” You quickly shoved your things back in your bag, glad you coffee was in a to go cup.

“Everything okay?” Casey’s face filled with concern.

“No…client just attempted suicide, they’re at Mercy.” You gently stroked her face, giving her an unbelievably soft kiss that left both of you wishing you had more time, “I’m sorry…”

“Duty calls.” She replied with a small smile.

“We’re still on for dinner Friday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Her smile warmed not only your heart but your entire goddamn body, your own silly grin breaking out on your face before you gave her another kiss, not wanting to leave, but knowing you had to.

[terrainofheartfelt]

do you have any dairthaniel hcs?

oh for YOU my dear I can think of some :)

dan and nate share clothes constantly, they think no one can tell but blair is a fashion savant and she knows when nate is wearing something cheap. but then dan catches her wearing one of his shirts and she'd fight him on it but...so comfy and dan wears her lingerie shhhh

they're all kind of 20-year-old messes but dan is the one who knows the most about cooking so often it's blair and nate pestering him to feed them. he eventually gets fed up and insists that they help. blair's better at it than nate.

dorota adores both nate and dan and she sort of adopts them as her boys and tries to take care of them - even though they spend most of their time together in brooklyn, rather than the penthouse. blair is annoyed because Only Child Syndrome. she's used to getting all of dorota's attention, dammit

nate's been friends with each of them for a long time, so he can keep up with dan and blair's discourse, but he only uses his knowledge for evil (escalating fights with random "i agree with dan" or "i agree with blair" and sitting back with popcorn because he thinks they're cute)

study parties! because I see them getting together in the college years. dorota feeds them brain food and they war council either on the loft floor or the penthouse dining room table. dan helps nate with his lit, nate quizzes blair on history (he has a knack for remembering dates -- it's the museum his grandparents live in), blair ruthlessly helps their romance language conjugations, and dan has an existential crisis when he realizes how good nate is at math (he also finds it very hot but)

movie nights! nate insists that the loft have a real tv for real viewing parties so he buys one (rich boi) and they all cuddle on the couch but the gag is that dan and blair are too into the Netflix part to get to the Chill part and nate is just *pouts*

nate and blair have known each other soooooooooo long that their communication sometimes feels inside which dan feels a little weird about but a perk is that they will tell on each other to dan about such and such embarrassing fact about them which he finds totally charming

(and dan is a bottom.)

[nintendouniverse2023]

Scene I did my OCs in my AU, for their designs and anything, I thought it would be fair if each of the Mario Characters a redesign in my version. Some I design them will be the same but change it up a little bit.

Bio: Wario was born alongside with his brother Waluigi. Their Father was the brother of the Jumpman to Mario and Luigi’s father and Jumpman became uncle to Wario Bros. Wario decided that he would challenge Mario to earn his uncle’s respect, but everything Wario tries to do, Mario would always win which lead to him becoming a selfish, rude and greedy person to this day. During that Waluigi didn’t care about earning the family respect as long as he stick to his game on tennis. Wario mostly likely get into a prank war and arguments with Mara.

By the time he reached adulthood, Warios parents kicked him and Waluigi out and had to rent to an cheap house. This lead to Wario to leave Brooklyn and ran across the country striking a treasure hunt and savagely fought weakling and pirates. When he return to Brooklyn, he was getting bored and tried after the adventure and settled down and gained an idea after watching a best video game commercial. Decided to make the best ones ever and called his gang. He tries to get Waluigi to join but he rather refuse.

Wario and Waluigi would ended up getting into a heated fight and would ended up sucked into a World of Mushrooms and Koopas and were separated from each other while, Wario gained to survive and found an island to raised an empire. Wario would later learn that Waluigi was at the Mushroom Kingdom with his cousins Mario and Luigi. Wario knows Mario was coming for him, now knowing this day would come. After Mario singal handed taken out his entire army and defeat Wario. They reunited with Waluigi and Wario, Wario apolgised about to everyone but still gives everyone a hard time essepally the Mario Bros.

Wario would continue with his wackiness adventures, Getting New Allies, Rivalry with Lulu and started Dating with Mona, He was not happy when Mara showed up but willing to help out with her cousins training even if it takes of putting her into his own mind games. When Wario has gone off a new quest to not just find a third parter but find a brand new jewel mirror in the Diamond Kingdom. He later formed the team of The Super Wario Squad, with a few Allie’s from his company for new adventures or challenges alike. He would form new ideas for his Video Games and Casino Business as well as a few Sports, Go Karts and Party challenges with The Mushroom League

Appearance: The same opecent as Mario’s except, he keeps his original shoes, little beard and his fingerless black w gloves.

Voice Actor: Bill Fagerbakke

Age: 27

Height: 5.7 ft

Weight: 223 ibs

Personality: Self-Centered, Grumpy, Greddy, Determined, Brave, Selfish but sometimes cared on the inside.

Favorite Foods: Garlic, Garlic Lated Foods and Burritos.

Family: *Parents* Wario Sr and Walseen, *Twin Brother* Waluigi, *Cousins* Mario Mario Jr, Luigi Mario and Mara Mario

Allies: Team Wario Ware, Rara *Not related but a third partner* Mona *Girlfriend*, Princess Peach, Princess Daisy, Mario, Luigi, Mara, Amatory, Gill Koop, The Toads, Toadette, Toad aka Captian Toad, Kong Clan, Some of Warios Squad and Yoshi.

Enemies: Captain Syrup *Sometimes/Arch Enemy* Lulu *sometimes* Bowser and the Koopa Empire, Bowser Jr, Kamek, Koopaling’s, King Boo and his Ghost Army, King Bob-mom, Petey Piranha Plant, King K Rool, Kremling army, Krusha and Klump

Likes: Bullying, Wrestling, Treasure Hunting, Pranks, Video Games, Party’s, Go Karts, Winning, Riding Motorcycles and Spending time with Mona

Dislikes: Failing, Lulu’s bratty behavior, His annoying Cousins, His treasure stolen, Being Cheated and Being Pranked

[trulyinspiringmovies]

Super Mario Bros.

“Super Mario Bros.” looked like a movie that would be fun to make fun of, but ended up being extremely difficult to sit through.

Mario Mario and his brother, Luigi Mario, are plumbers working in Brooklyn. Luigi starts dating a girl named Daisy. When Daisy gets kidnapped and transported into another dimension, Mario and Luigi jump in to rescue her. Before Daisy disappeared, Luigi was able to procure her necklace. The Mario Brothers come to realize that the necklace is an ancient meteorite that caused the extinction of the dinosaurs in their reality. Placed in the wrong hands, the meteorite can be used to fuse the two realities back together.

I remember watching this movie when I was in middle school and thinking it wasn’t the best, but it was cool to see such a different take on the Mario Brothers. This was back when I thought turning every IP into something gritty was cool. Now that I’m older, I don’t really subscribe to the belief. I think some properties benefit from a more gritty take, but most don’t. A prime example is the Mario Brothers. People like their world because it’s vibrant and fun. “Super Mario Bros.” takes all of that and throws it out the trash. This universe is a seedy underbelly, almost like a dystopia. It’s constantly dark and people don’t know how to use their car brakes. I don’t mind Mario having a Brooklyn accent, but I will never understand why they chose John Leguizamo to play Luigi. I think he’s fine, despite the fact that I don’t like him in a lot of movies, but the age gap between him and Bob Hoskins makes their being brothers implausible. I think Bob Hoskins was fine as Mario, but I don’t think he’s a mascot that kids could get behind. There were a bunch of mind-baffling changes made from the source materials that just do not work. Goombas are known to be smaller creatures, but they’re hulking beasts in this movie. Yoshi looks like a generic dinosaur. They never refer to King Koopa as Bowser. King Koopa also just looks like a normal human until the very end when he turns into a generic, cheap-looking dinosaur. What pisses me off the most was what I learned about after I rewatched the movie. I always love hearing about actors enjoying their time on set and how the director fosters a positive environment while filming. I genuinely think this produces a better performance overall. Reading about the sheer incompetence of Rocky Morton and Annabel Jankel made my blood boil. You know it’s bad when a majority of the cast had to be under the influence of whatever they could get their hands on in order to get through production. Bob Hoskins would even talk badly about the director a couple of years later, even after they resigned from directing entirely. Dennis Hopper, the guy who played King Koopa, reportedly got so fed up that he yelled at the director for three hours straight. There’s even a story about how Rocky Morton poured hot coffee on one of the extras because he didn’t like them. Then, he later tried to deny this by saying he was only trying to make the extra’s costume look more weathered. This is the behavior of a trash human being. I normally don’t condone letting personal gripes be leveled in a professional setting, but I think this is the rare occasion where it’s warranted. I’m glad these two aren’t directing movies anymore. They don’t deserve to. They’re not only incompetent, but they’re also calloused, evil people whose legacy will be this stain on cinematic history.

★

Rewatched on April 7th, 2023