#buy tires

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny commits to the Bit a bit too hard...

So! For the first few weeks after his accident, whenever Danny would try to help the people of Amity Park, he would be treated as a Villain.

No matter if he had just defeated the Big Bad of the Week or saved a Cat from a tree, everybody in town only saw him as a Monster or Villain to he feared and hunted down. Danny was really getting sick of trying to get them on his side, until Sam made a suggestion.

"Why not just...play into it?" She said, barely looking up from painting her nails.

It was just an offhand suggestion, but it stuck with Danny. Why shouldn't he lean into it? The people of Amity Park already saw Ghosts as Evil, and they already assumed he was in cahoots with the Ghosts attacking the town. Why shouldn't he just...play into it?

So he does just that.

From that day on, whenever Phantom was spotted he would dramatically monologue about his Evil Plans, or claim that another Rogues attack on the City was his own act of terror.

Box Ghost destroys the towns Warehouses? It was on his orders.

Ember mind controls masses of Teenagers? All part of his Plans somehow.

Every Adult in Town is kidnapped by Young Blood? Danny gave them over to a friend as a Gift.

He crafts an identity for himself as the most Vile and Horrible Ghost that has ever attacked the City, using his own infamy to cement his legend even more firmly. The town only sees a Monsterous Villain, who has eveded capture near effortlessly for months on end, who constantly attacks their City and gets away with it.

Of course he still needs an excuse for how his plans keep getting stopped, and he gets it when his girlfriend Valerie becomes the Red Huntress. Before that, he just claimed infighting or the Fentons getting lucky, but Valerie becoming the Town's Hero meant he had a plausible excuse for how he kept getting "Foiled".

Val was suspicious, because she was not as involved as Phantom painted her to be, but in the end she had no proof of him faking his defeats. And she couldn't come up with any explanations for why he would do that in the first place. I mean, who would fake being a Supervillain? It had to he something else.

This did come back to bite him a while later, when the Justice League decided that enough was enough, and dispatched Justice League Dark to recruit Red Huntress and help Deal with him.

Coincidentally, that was the same day Pariah Dark attacked the Mortal Realm and sucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone.

And honestly? Danny had spent over a Year proclaiming himself as a Villain who commanded Ghosts to attack the Human Realm, and he had heard about the Right of Conquest being Absolute in the Ghost Zone, so why not make it official? Why not overthrow the Ghost King, become the Ghost King, and cement his identity as a Villain while also forbidding Ghosts from entering the Human Realm without his permission?

He may have gotten a bit carried away and forgotten that the Villain thing was a disguise...but hey! He was still preventing Ghost Attacks! ...mostly. That's got to count for something right?

He may have let the Bit run a bit too far...

...

Check the tags for more context!

[pokeberry5]

the classic body builder physique jiménez gives dick is SO funny to me because it makes him look so female love interest coded, complete with unreasonable hour glass figure and booty-out poses

like ok i'm gonna start with a comparison between how he draws dick vs how he draws selina

there's that same!! exaggerated curve at the waist

the rest under the cut bc this is gonna be long—i'm pulling mostly from batman (2016) #137-138 (i've been keeping up with gotham war lmao)

he gives them the same sort of broad shoulders that taper down into a tiny waist

FURTHER, this is technically where dick's pecs are in comparison to selina's curves:

HOWEVER something about the way jiménez draws dick's lats also creates a curve lower down his torso that mimics the shape of selina's tits:

this exaggerated tiny waist is even more striking in comparison to how he draws other male characters

like don't get me wrong, he definitely favors a broad shoulder to slimmer waist sort of build, but never to the extent he goes with dick

take bruce and tim from the same chapters:

their shoulder to waist to hip ration is a lot more equal, they've got much more of an rectangular build, the curve in at the waist/hips is gentle

and i swear jiménez chooses poses to exaggerate dick's tiny waist (not quite booty-out poses but the same sort of vibe)

like????

SIR??????

this sort of twisted side pose to show off the tiny waist is extremely reminiscent of the contorted poses comic artists put female love interests in

take this side by side comparison with a panel from nightwing (1995) #1 (i read it recently so it was on my mind):

there's even!!! the drawn back arm highlighting that inward curve!!

AND THEN

the booty out poses!!!

rip his back honestly

like i'm pretty sure the design choice was actually to emphasize he broad shoulders and show off his nightwing symbol, but imo all it does is makes his waist look tiny

tldr: strong female character dick grayson ig

Ok as thanks for getting to the end, gratuitous batcooch:

and a tiny dick sketch

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 329

Bruce was admittedly suspicious when Talia requests a meeting, and is admittedly still upset with the entire hiding Damian’s existence from him for literal years. But he also admits that he just… has to take a moment. 

“Run that by me again please?” He had to have misheard, right? Or gotten drugged by something maybe. 

Talia sighs, sounding just as tired as he felt. “Father’s tea supplier has moved to Gotham after an argument, and he wishes to discuss the agreement of him not entering the city- to speak with said vendor.” 

[vashievoidz]

I'm pissed off to see that Palestine is not trending on here. I know that we all have interests we want to talk about, but this week is another global strike, Palestine should be the number one trending, and it's not even number 10. You can put aside your interests for one week. Bisan and so many others are begging us to use our voices to pressure our governments to put an end to this genocide. MILLIONS of people are counting on us, PLEASE don't look away no matter how upset and tired you are. We have the luxury of being able to just put our phones down and going off to do something to feel better. But just this once, for ONE WEEK, you can put aside your discomfort and SPEAK UP. How many people have to die for you to care.

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[h0rsegirlpercy]

The scene with Annabeth in the gas station was really interesting to me because it almost felt like she was overwhelmed by all the different types of candy on the shelf for a second. Like she hadn’t seen so much candy in one place like that since before she was at CHB. And I think how much candy she ends up grabbing speaks to that too. Like that’s how I would expect a kid who’s been at CHB for 5 years to go about buying candy

[skunkes]

[necroticghost]

im so fucking useless

[vigilskeep]

when you first start the cousland origin, you can have some conversations with arl howe, teyrn cousland, and duncan that shed some interesting light on the political situation in ferelden. it’s definitely the origin where you get the most context on the rebellion and on cailan and his father. while howe isn’t exactly the most trustworthy of sources, he is also one of the most openly critical of cailan that we have access to, which i think is worthy of interest

howe remembers maric with what the toolset describes as “genuine fondness”: “your father hasn’t spoken of our time with him? that man took care of his friends. as they say, he was large as life and twice as tall!” i think we should pay particular attention to that man took care of his friends.

what howe’s talking about is a really important aspect of kingship, where you win the consent and enthusiasm of the nobility for your rule by offering rewards like wealth, land, and prestige to the loyal. kingship is always less stable than it’s portrayed, and this is one of the ways that kings must essentially sell to the nobility that answering to them is worth their time, which would be especially important in ferelden given everything we know about its culture. fereldans believe someone only has power when it is given by the loyalty of those below them, who have the right to freely rescind that loyalty. the dao codex says that “the sight of [fereldan kings] asking for—and working to win—the support of ‘lesser’ men is a source of constant wonder to foreign ambassadors.”

i suspect howe is remembering a maric fresh from the victories of the rebellion, who was able to reward those who had followed him with the spoils of those victories. at the end of the stolen throne, we see that in the final days of the rebellion, maric was killing those who had betrayed his mother to the orlesians even when they arrived under truce to meet him on holy ground. in dao, we see no lingering orlesian nobility except for those who married in and continue to be met with marked hostility. i think we can safely surmise that maric elected to make no conciliatory measures and give everything to those who had followed him; with the orlesians on the run and his people out for blood, he was in a strong enough position to do so, and it certainly served to win the fond memories of men like howe.

by contrast, howe goes on to say, “it’s too bad cailan isn’t half that.” the toolset notes establish very clearly that it’s the same issue, elaborating on howe’s thoughts: “bitter turn, i don’t get as much from the current king”, and “disdainful, i have no use for him, he does me no favours”. this isn’t a minor character detail, if howe’s last words when killed by the player are anything to go by. “maker spit on you... i deserved... more...” whatever it is that howe feels he should have been given, by the crown or anyone else, it characterises his actions and his defining treachery.

it’s in these same conversations that we see another side of this demonstrated. there are two points where howe can openly criticise the king, and bryce immediately admonishes him for both. one even has the toolset note: “speaks sharply, as a lord to a lesser man, not a friend to an equal”. it definitely comes across that way; the way he tells howe “that’s enough” is not far off the voice he uses when the player, his child, displeases him. bryce can’t tolerate any criticism of cailan, as the couslands in dao are ardent supporters of the king. to venture some hc, i suspect that this is not merely royalist fervour, and that howe’s resentment for having been given less is matched by bryce’s awareness of the precariousness of having more.

over the centuries, the theirins have consolidated their power and eradicated almost all the teyrns (the noble rank that is second only to the king). with the only other lingering teyrn being loghain, who is essentially part and parcel of the royal family, the couslands stand alone as the only real rivals to theirin power within ferelden. there are rumours that bryce was once considered for king instead of the theirins; he too could have decided to believe he “deserved more”. but unlike howe, and perhaps understandably given his strong position and happy growing family, he is satisfied with what he has. he will not take the risk of even the slightest challenge being made within his hall

(i expect that bryce’s satisfaction with the current situation further spurred howe’s dissatisfaction to its heights, given the complicated cousland-howe history and the fact that he was expected to accept a friend he had fought beside as a superior for the rest of his life.)

i don’t think howe’s judgement on cailan is likely to be without basis. we don’t hear about any victories the young king has to his name, from which he could have passed around spoils. (to be fair, cailan had harder luck than maric in this regard. a king who raises a successful rebellion gets to bring glory and prestige to everyone who follows him, whereas a king trying to rebuild after that rebellion mostly gets to bring, uh, taxes probably. especially on wealthy centres of trade like howe’s amaranthine, one might assume.) cailan also takes a far more diplomatic approach to the question of orlais, which perhaps predictably did not win over many nobles of howe’s generation. it makes sense that cailan’s strongest supporters would instead be men like bryce who hope for things to simply continue, peacefully, as they are. perhaps in another world where cailan had won the battle of ostagar, he might have earned wider respect. (you could actually argue on this basis that there’s more sense and purpose to cailan’s glory-seeking than he usually gets credit for.) but howe already acts before ostagar, which can only demonstrate his certainty in cailan’s failings at this point: his belief that even if cailan could win, he would not be stable enough to pursue justice for the couslands

[lost-in-fandoms]

I love your writing so much!! If you are taking prompts (no pressure!!!!): daniel doing something cute for max’s bday while they are together in Perth after Singapore ❤️

Hello, I love you!! You are SO nice and I appreciate you sending a prompt! This was probably not what you were envisioning, even if there are cute things happening, but I hope you like it anyway. I wanted more birthday stuff but it sort of ran away from me. Also, this is about 2k oh god.

Daniel figured out in the early days, even before they were actually together, that Max doesn't care much about his birthday.

He will never say no to cake (unless his trainer gives him really mean looks), he appreciates gifts, and he loves a good party, but he has no real feelings about it being his birthday.

Daniel had asked him about it once, wondering if maybe there was some sort of deep rooted trauma behind it he didn't know about, but Max had just shrugged, easy and relaxed. It is not important, Daniel, when I get old, if I am getting older every day.

He knows that this year Max has no plans for it, and knows that neither of them minds, both just wanting a quiet day with each other.

It's been...a lot, lately.

Even here, away from the crowds and the hungry world that has just recently spit him out, like a bitter and unwanted bite, it's not been easy to let everything go.

The first two days after landing they had barely left the bed, sleeping and kissing lazily, too drained to even have sex. The third day they had spent with Daniel's family. The fourth, the one when the news had become official for the world, he had gotten horrifically drunk, in a way he hadn't done in years, Max being the one providing glasses of water for once and hands on his forehead while he was crying over a toilet bowl. He doesn't have many memories of the fifth one, spent nursing the worst hungover on this side of thirty.

And then he had tried to start his new life.

He doesn't know yet how that will look like, which makes it harder, but he's taking one step at a time, like his mom has been telling him.

Yesterday's step had been joining Max for some training, because he doesn't want to actually become a couch potato, and looking into finding a new internet provider after Max's numerous complaints.

Today's first step is going to be the farmers market.

He considers waking up Max for it, but it's barely seven a.m., and he doesn't actually want to be threatened with bodily harm this early in the day, so he leaves him with a kiss (Max doesn't even stir) and a post-it note on the bedside table.

It doesn't take long for him to decide that the farmers market isn't for him, at least not yet. Maybe it's an acquired taste, but there's just too much going on, bustling people pressing around him, vendors loudly calling out prices, colorful things attracting his attention everywhere, making his head spin.

He manages to get what he wanted and then flees, back to the safety of his car and towards the quiet of the farm.

It's only when he's halfway there that he realises that a few years ago he would have loved all of it, and then has to force himself to not have an existential crisis over it, wondering if it's just a result of getting old, or if something about the last few months has irrevocably broken him.

When he pokes his head into the bedroom, he finds that Max is awake, sitting up against the headboard, phone in hand and blankets pooled around his waist, looking soft and sleep-mussed.

"Good morning," Daniel says, stepping inside and feeling the warmth of Max's smile wrap around his lungs. "Happy birthday."

Max, impossibly, seems to soften further, his ears growing pinker.

"Thank you," he says, his voice still raspy with sleep. He reaches for Daniel, but he holds up a hand, taking a step back towards the door.

"Hold on, I have something for you. Don't move."

He watches as Max makes a show of settling back against the pillows and stilling there, beaming at him when Daniel laughs, retreating in the other room.

He comes back holding a paper bag and a bottle of orange juice in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other, offering both to Max with a smile, refusing to feel self conscious about it.

Max blinks up at him, fingers just a touch away from Daniel's hand, surprise and confusion mixing on his face.

"For me?" he asks, soft and amazed.

Daniel nods, not really trusting himself to speak, and Max finally closes the distance, wrapping his fingers around the bunch of stems and taking the flowers from Daniel, pulling them close to his chest and burying his face into the colorful petals.

Daniel doesn't really know what kinds of flowers they are, he just chose a few that looked pretty, but he doesn't think it matters. Not when Max looks up at him again, cheeks red and eyes bright, smiling wide wide wide, happy and lovely.

"Thank you, Daniel," he says, so earnestly it cracks something open in Daniel's chest, unwanted and unexpected, making him feel like everything is too much once again.

Luckily, Max seems to notice, because he always notices, and he settles the flower gently on the blankets, uncaring of the wet stems, before tugging Daniel down in his lap. His hands are solid weights on Daniel's hips, and for the first time since he woke up that morning, Daniel feels like he can breathe fully, settled and steady, the feeling of being adrift that he had refused to acknowledge pushed away for a little while longer.

"What's in there?" Max asks, thumbs rubbing circles on Daniel's hipbones, gesturing with his chin towards the paper bag still in Daniel's hand.

The smell of baked goods has for sure given it away already, but Daniel makes a show of it, extracting a croissant as if it was a bunny from a magic hat, wishing Max's laughter could seep right into his bloodstream, weaving itself around his cells.

Max bites into the croissant cheerfully, not minding the flaky crumbs that rain down on the sheets, thanking Daniel again and humming his approval.

Daniel's chest feels warm.

"What's that?" Max asks again while he chews, pointing at the orange juice.

"Orange juice," Daniel tells him, untwisting the cap and offering the bottle to him, missing Max's hand as soon as it's gone. "Watched Marco squeeze it fresh myself."

He does his best to keep his face straight as Max hesitates, bottle halfway up to his mouth, eyes narrowing.

"Marco?"

"Charming guy, yes," Daniel teases, unable to keep himself from smiling any longer, amused by Max's frown, "about sixty years old."

The frown disappears as fast as it had formed, and Max smirks at him, finally taking a sip.

"Forty years too old for you," he says once he has swallowed, laughing at Daniel's outraged squeak.

Max makes it up to him by offering him the middle bite of the croissant, sweet custard oozing onto his fingers, and then again by kissing Daniel thoroughly, sweet with vanilla and sugar.

"I have something else," Daniel tells him some time later, when they're all kissed out, pushing away from Max's chest and clambering back onto his feet.

Max follows him without question, tugging on a pair of shorts abandoned on the floor, and grabbing the flowers from the bed, taking them to the kitchen counter before joining Daniel outside.

Daniel grabs his hand, because he can here, away from prying eyes, and guides him around the porch to a cardboard box peeping quietly.

Max gasps, immediately crouching in front of it and opening it, letting out a surprised laugh when he sees what's inside: four little chicks, fluffy and pale yellow, tweeting up at him.

"You said we needed them to have a real farm," he says, carding his fingers through Max's hair, "and mom said I needed a project."

Max has his fingers in the box already, trying to pet the chicks without startling them, but he leans back to beam up at him, eyes crinkling.

"I love them," he declares, steady and unashamed, before turning back to the box.

This time, he manages to scoop two chicks up in his cupped hands, taking them out and cradling them against his chest, humming happily.

"I think you're their mama now," Daniel jokes, "you'll have to come back for them."

He knows he's said the wrong thing as soon as it's out of his mouth, Max's shoulders tensing, even as his hands stay gentle around the chicks. He doesn't know how to backtrack though, doesn't really want to, so he watches as Max puts them down again and gets up, knees cracking.

He goes to make a joke about that too, something about Max getting old, but the words get stuck in his throat at the sight of Max's unhappy expression.

"Of course I'm coming back, Daniel," Max says with a frown, steely certainty behind it. "Did you think I was going to leave and..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, crossing his arms and looking away, blinking rapidly.

"I..." Daniel swallows, picking at a cuticle on his thumb. "I'm sorry."

It's again the wrong thing to say, Max turning back towards him, eyes shiny and thunderous expression.

"I love you, Daniel," he snaps, forceful and determined. "I love you, Daniel, not the you who races. I am not going to fuck off and leave just because..."

He shakes his head, reels himself in. Daniel doesn't know if he's breathing, but if he was, he stops when Max steps closer, bringing his hands up to cup his cheeks.

"I will have to leave, because I need to finish this season, and maybe the next, I don't know, but I am always coming back. Any time I can find time, I will be here. Or in LA, or wherever you will decide to be."

Max swipes his thumb along Daniel's cheekbone, leaning forward to gently thump their foreheads together.

"I wish you were racing with me," he whispers, a confession he hadn't let Daniel have yet. Daniel's heart is split open. "Always it is better, to race with you. I thought we would be racing until we both retired, but I don't care that it is different. I will miss you, when you're here and I am there, and then I will come back."

Max's fingers are damp with Daniel's tears now, and Daniel lets himself be tugged closer, wrapped in the safest arms he knows, hiding his face in Max's neck.

"I'm sorry," he croaks again when he finally finds his voice again, twisting his hands on the back of Max's sleep shirt.

He feels Max's take a deep breath, letting it out against Daniel's hair.

"I wish I could fix it," he says slowly, measuring his words, "but I don't like when you say that I will leave. I have never left. I will not start now."

And he's right, Daniel knows he's right, but it's been hard to remember what he still has lately, after everything went down.

He nods against Max's skin and then lets Max hold him, gently rocking side to side, the chicks peeping softly at their feet, until he doesn't feel like he's going to break with every stuttering breath anymore.

"I was thinking we could go down to the trail," he murmurs, lips dragging against Max's damp shirt. "Take some food, have a picnic. I bought bread rolls."

Max squeezes him tightly once more before putting some distance between them to be able to look at his face, smiling gently.

"I like that. You can make the food while I take the babies to their new coop."

Daniel freezes.

"You have bought a coop too, right Daniel?" Max asks, eyebrows raising. Daniel can feel himself blush.

"I...didn't think about it?" he tries to justify himself.

For a second Max just stares at him, and then he starts laughing, dropping his head against Daniel's chest.

"Stop laughing at me!" Daniel whines, hitting Max's shaking back, but making no move to step away.

Max hits him back, then straightens himself, laughter still etched in the lines of his face.

"Alright," he says, slightly out of breath, "we are going to buy a coop instead. Or build a coop, I don't know what is better, we'll have to call your dad. And we'll do the trail tomorrow, or the day after."

Tomorrow, or the day after.

It seems to hit Daniel all at once, that this is the start. He has tomorrow, and the day after, to do anything he wants. To go on hikes with his boyfriend, to think about new projects, to pick up old hobbies and interests, no schedules to stop him. And he will have tomorrow, and the day after, even when Max has to leave to go racing again, because Max will come back, to have more tomorrows, and the days after, with him.

He surges forward, crashing his lips against Max's, who gasps in surprise but eagerly kisses him back, until all that's left in his brain is tomorrow and Max.

Only then he lets Max go again, stepping back with a smile.

"Let's go get a house for the babies, baby."

And in the lines of Max's smile he can almost see it already: tomorrow, and the day after.

[argentinagp]

sebastian vettel + ferrari 2017 for @gayferrari requesting faq

[septemberlikestea]

converting to believing in academic supremacy. he is the best friend i do not deserve.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: obsession ramble

It’s not that I dislike obsessions, but I’d like to actually see them actually used more

The word obsession means: “an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person’s mind”

It has connotations of compulsivity and a loss of control

So if I’m told X character is obsessed with y, then I’m not actually shown the character being obsessed, it just feels… unsatisfying?

And a lot of the time we get told about it and then it’s never addressed again, or it gets treated more akin to a special interest

It’s Chekhov’s gun remaining unfired

Which is a shame because the works that do actually show the obsessive element of an obsession it feels like setup and payoff. It’s really cool and an interesting way to examine a character

And I get that takes extra work and isn’t always the story you want to tell, but it’s significantly less cool when it’s arbitrarily lumped in. It’s not a be all end all if it’s included and nothing is done with it, but it’s a bit like a nail not quite hammered into place: sticks out a bit and occasionally tears a small hole in your sweater(story)

Def not saying not to use it, but just food for thought on ways to use it I guess, or a way. Idk man I’ve definitely been overthinking this but people overthink every aspect of writing and tropes so that don’t make me special just sleep deprived

[piedpiperart]

I see a lot of posts about Danny seeing Jason and immediately thinking he’s a baby ghost and wanting to adopt him but what if it’s the other way around?

What if Jason sees Danny and is hit with oh my god that’s a baby, who left a baby unattended out on the street?? He needs help, gotta protect him, mine, yeah he’s mine now, I got u lil guy don’t worry

Meanwhile 15 yr old Danny is like um hi?? And promptly gets kidnapped. But he just lets it happen because he’s actually feeling the safest he’s ever felt in his life with this guy, and Danny’s core immediately recognizes Jason as parental figure and just relaxes Danny 100%

Jasons feeling like Danny is a helpless baby while Danny feels safe, protect, calm, safe, relax, and he just lets Jason take him home. Neither are really sure why or what is going on with them but they’re not gonna stop it.

I think it’s because Danny’s own parents kinda suck and any other ghost that he’s interacted with he’s had to fight in some capacity or has been spooked by them. Jason’s the only one who 1) wanted to parent him and 2) has good vibes. Danny’s usually waiting for fights to happen and he’s very stressed. Jason calms him down so much he probably falls asleep before they even get to Jason’s apartment, full trust that Jason will take care of him.

Meanwhile Jason never really connects with his pit side, but really wants to find some way to have a truce. Cue Danny, and both Jason and the Pit turn to protectiveness and so the rage becomes more protection and Jason yk, might be kinda lonely and wanting something to take care of. He was probably thinking about getting a cat and not a kid but he’s not complaining

[crybaby-bkg]

Bakugou convinces you to buy a skirt one day while you’re online shopping. You were hesitant to, mainly because the skirt looked like it wouldn’t cover even a slither of your ass. But he was persistent, talked about all the different options you could pair with the skirt, and ended up buying the skirt for you himself.

So when it came, you weren’t surprised that it definitely didn’t cover your ass. You twirl in the mirror, frowning as you look at how your cheeks aren’t even remotely covered by the thin strip of fabric. It would be so much cuter if it was a little longer. Wearable practicality went straight out of the window.

“Goddamn,” you hear from the door of the bathroom, meeting Bakugou’s form that leans against the wall. He’s not even looking you in the eye, too busy focused on how the skirt flares out against your ass, how good you look in the skimpy fabric. You frown though, and turn to face him, tugging at the skirt as he finally catches your gaze.

“I’m sorry I wasted your money, my love.” You sigh, looking over your shoulder in the mirror. Bakugou scoffs though, pushing off the wall to stand in front of you, holding your hips as he tilts down to take all of you in.

“And how’d you do that?” He asks quietly, resting his face in the crook of your neck, hands slithering down to cup your cheeks in his palms.

“I can’t wear this out the house! I’ll get charged for public indecency.” You half joke, batting his shoulder when he squeezes your ass in his big hands. You feel more than see his evil little grin, looking over your shoulder once more to see how his hands swallow up your ass, the glint in his eyes.

“Who said you had to wear it out the house?” You hadn’t realized the weight of his words until only minutes later when he had you perched in his lap at his desk. He still had to finish some paperwork for his agency, but promised he needed you right there with him to help him focus.

To any spectator, it looked like you were just innocently sitting there, arms wrapped around his neck and face buried in his skin. It looks the picture of domesticity, as he works with you burrowed against him. But, every time he lifts you, anyone can see the way your skirt hikes up and flares out on his hips and the curve of your ass. How creamy you’ve made his cock with coming more times than he can count. How your cheeks quiver with every squeeze and smack he lays against it.

Bakugou thinks, as he looks over your shoulder when you sit again and finds your tiny little skirt barely covering the plumpness of his balls, that he should order another one of these skirts. Maybe in red, or burnt orange this time.

[spacedace]

Girl scout cookie season has to be fucking hell in Gotham

Like, okay so I don't actually know anything about girl scouts, but it has to be intense right? Every girl scout in the city has to know that Bruce Wayne is a soft touch and will buy out your entire stock if you just look at him with even a hint of a sad frown. Which means outside of Wayne Enterprises and Wayne Manor is prime real estate, the kind of hot spots that scouts and their parents are willing to go to war for. Like, full on street brawls breaking out between these little girls and their rival troops over common Bruce Wayne locations.

And it's *Gotham* so you know there are like, Gotham Specific badges for things like "Improvised Weaponry" and "Urban War Tactics" I bet there are badges for helping people during Rogue attacks, with like a badge for each specific Rogue and a badge you get if you've earned all the others.

Just. Gotham Girl Scouts have to be scarier than any Marine, and are probably on so many watch lists, both ad potential heroes and villains.