#west villiage

[engagemythrusters]

thanks Josefina Leit. hey next time, say that in front of the Hague, too, why don't you?

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Epilogue 1) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: Daniel signed with RB at the end of the 2022 season, ending your attorney-client relationship. You decide to give romance a try in the off season.

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): fluff, language, *SMUT*: p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap)

Word Count: 2,291

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

February 2023

You woke up to his breath tickling the back of your neck, which you had now grown pleasantly accustomed to over the last few months. His arm snaked over your waist with his hand lightly resting just below your breasts. Sometimes his face nuzzled into the back of your shoulder so that you could feel his stubble lightly tickle you. You treasured these soft, quiet moments that were hidden from the rest of the world.

By a miracle, your budding relationship had not yet been sniffed out by paparazzi or investigative fans, but you knew it wouldn’t last forever. The distance was hard, as expected, but ended up being more manageable than you originally thought. Of course it helped that one of you had almost unlimited resources. He ended up spending a good chunk of time at his property in Beverly Hills which at least got you in the same continent and country. You would make up excuses to work out of the LA office for a week or so and The Firm suspected nothing of it or didn’t care enough to ask why. During the day you worked on other client matters while he hung out with Scotty and other friends, allegedly figuring out plans for the next Enchante drop. At night you stayed with him, cooking dinners together, throwing small parties, watching the sun set over the hills.

When you weren’t on the West Coast, he occasionally stayed with you in your small NYC apartment in the West Villiage. At first you protested that he should stay somewhere else, that there wasn’t enough room for the both of you, and that your accommodations were far too modest for the extravagant lifestyle he had become so accustomed to. Fine, you book the hotel, he would say with a smirk knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to afford the reservation to override him. But he so desperately wanted to a glimpse into your home that you could hardly say no.

It was easier for him to explore the city in the dead of winter where he blended in with everyone else on the street, bundled in at least four layers to keep warm. With a hat and scarf covering most of his face, he went about his day with the rare freedom of being unidentified and anonymous. When you were done with work you would sneak into the diviest dive bar you could find, consisting of dark basements with dark liquor. Or you would order takeout for dinner and eat it out of the container on your couch with a beer or glass of wine.

The two of you relished these moments of normalcy. Including moments like now, in that tiny apartment, on a chilly Friday in February where you bathed in the rays of sun that began to poke through your curtains in the light of morning. He had been on Stephen Colbert the night before and you watched in awe from the comfort of your couch that the man on the screen, in a suit you picked out, would be coming home to you at the end of the program.

Your eyes fluttered open before your alarm went off, Daniel’s breath making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You smiled to yourself, still unable to believe this was your new reality. Just to be sure, you gently grabbed the hand positioned on your upper abdomen to move it to cup your breast. Perhaps you should have let him sleep, but you couldn’t pass up the chance to have extra time with him. You felt his breath pattern change as he slowly woke from the delicate touch. The silver lining of long distance was that neither of you were lacking in libido. Granted your relationship was still in its infancy, of course you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

He pulled you in close flush against his chest and gave your shoulder a kiss.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, voice muffled by skin. You held your hand over his, squeezing it.  

“Mmm good morning.” The crook of his nose caressed the path that followed the trails of kisses along your shoulder blade. He began to move his thumb over your sensitive nipple, feeling as it puckered under his touch. Your breath hitched as you squirmed, molding yourself into him. You partially turned your head to face him without disrupting your position. He propped himself on his elbow to meet you halfway and planted a messy kiss on your lips.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look in the morning?” You used to think he was joking, not that you could blame him if he were. There were people who were elegant sleepers, but you knew you were not one of them. Your hair almost always ended up looking like it could home a few birds or small rodent. Your eyes were puffy, slightly crusty, and every now and then there was some dried drool for good measure. Now that you had been at this for nearly two months, it was evident he was very serious each time.

“You have, but you can tell me again,” you mumbled as a smile grew on your face and stretched your limbs.

“You’re beautiful.” It came out muffled as your lips pressed together again, as his thumb continued to lazily graze your nipple.

You gently dragged his hand from your chest to the growing heat between your legs. You pressed against him again, feeling his hardened member against your ass. You smirked, satisfied with the results of your minimal efforts.

He kissed the crook of your neck as he drew tiny circles around your clit with his middle finger. You reached your arm behind you to gently scratch his head as little moans escaped your lips, breath becoming uneven with desire.

“Are you going to be late for work?” Ever the gentleman, you could tell he asked to be polite but it wasn’t actually a point of concern. You grinded into his groin in frustration.

“Not that I care at the moment, but no.” You moved his fingers even further south so he could feel your neediness. “I have twelve minutes and I don’t want to think about responsibilities until then. Do what you will with that information.”

A husky groan escaped his lips feeling how wet you were for him. His hand left you momentarily to stroke himself a few times before aligning with your entrance and you reached down to help guide him.

Two months, and it still took your breath away how full he made you feel. Your back arched into him and he caught your hips in his hand. Laced with sleep, he held on as he dragged in and out of you in deliberate, languid motions as though time didn’t exist. His hand moved slowly up your body, to your waist, over your soft stomach, the swell of your breast, where it snaked over your chest and enclosed around your throat with a gentle firmness that made your core clench. It was equally delicate and possessive. It delighted every surface of your body but his leisure pace now maddened you.

“Faster,” you choked out. He smirked as he slowed down the roll of his hips, tightening his grip around your neck. If he wasn’t awake before, he was now. Daniel was fascinated – you ordinarily enjoyed lazy morning sex but today you were extraordinarily needy for some reason. Not that he was mad at it. Your eyes twisted shut and you moaned through gritted teeth, simultaneously aroused and frustrated. “Fuck you.”  

“Happily,” he taunted. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please.” He felt your body quiver around him as you begged for more of him. He closed his eyes and prayed that he would last for the remaining six minutes.

He obliged your pleas, only letting go of your neck to lift your leg up.

Oh

Right there

His thrusts deepened with the new angle and watched excitedly as your arm moved down. He couldn’t see you playing with yourself but knew you were as your moans became louder and more frequent and he felt your walls squeeze and twitch. The image seared into his brain and he knew he was done. He inhaled the scent from your hair in his face and he wished he could see you. But you were warm and tight and wet and perfect and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Fuck, I’m-”  

“Yes”

Your hips stuttered and muscles spasmed around him. He spilled into you as his fingers sank into your skin, his vice grip unable to let go. You both laid limp for a moment, panting to catch your breath. Eventually you pulled yourself away from him to roll over.

Your hair was knotted and your flushed face was adorned with a shit-eating grin. You were stunning. Glowing.

“Good morning,” you said cheekily.

“Good morning,” he responded. He lifted his arm, inviting you to use his chest as a pillow. You did so gladly, intertwining yourselves in each other once more like vines. It was nice for all of forty-seven seconds before your alarm went off. He pulled you tighter before you could try to get up.

“Now I have to get going.” He placed a kiss at the top of your head.

“What if we just stayed in bed all day instead.” You groaned in silent agreement, but nonetheless peeled his arms off you.

“I would love to but I have to work. And so do you.” You kissed him before hopping into the shower.

Right. Daniel had almost forgotten that today was his first official day back as a Red Bull employee. His presence was requested for the livery launch set to happen in Midtown in a few hours. He laid in bed and smiled to himself as he listened to you sing I Just Had Sex by The Lonely Island.

“I still can’t believe it’s in New York,” you said casually as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. He hummed in agreement. “Suspiciously convenient, really.” You glanced at him through your peripheral to gauge his reaction. Nothing. Though he did look oddly pensive. You turned suddenly to confront him. “You’re sure you didn’t say anything to Christian?” He laughed at your skeptic accusation.

“Not a peep.”

“You swear it?” You held out your pinky.

“I swear it.” He linked his with yours.

“Kiss it,” you demanded. He rolled his eyes but obliged lowering his lips to his knuckles as you did yours, his focus on you never wavering.  

You continued getting ready, though you couldn’t shake the sense that there was an uneasy intensity to him this morning. At first you thought it might just be nerves about the livery event, but then you caught him staring at you in the mirror while you were brushing your teeth. You spit and turned around.

“Ok you’re being weird. What is it?”

“I’m not being weird!” he said defensively. You brandished your toothbrush at him threateningly.

“Yes, you are. You’ve barely said two words since we had sex.” He scoffed.

“I’ve said lots of words. That was five just now –“

“There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, you know.”

“I’m not nervous –“

“Then what is it?”

He both loved and hated that you could read him like a book. You seemed to be intuitively aware of all of his deepest thoughts - though maybe not this one. He watched as you walked into the kitchen to pack your work bag. You filled your travel mug as you patiently waited for his response. He took a deep breath before jumping into the metaphorical deep end.

“Since things are official with Red Bull as of today, I figured we should be too.”

You snorted coffee through your nose. A not-so-subtle tomato hue dusted your cheeks immediately. Yet again, you weren’t sure why you were so surprised. The man was traveling half way around the world for you. With the amount of time, effort, care, and money spent, how could you ever believe he would lull you into something as malignant as a situationship? As it was in the beginning, you were the stop-gap preventing things from progressing. He had been respectful with taking things at a glacial pace, as you kindly requested. He had given you the proof you needed that there was a way to make the relationship work when you weren’t traveling constantly together. When you considered that you had now existed in each other’s orbits for nearly five months, he really had been as patient as a saint with you.  

But he misconstrued your stunned silence as confusion, so he rephrased his proposition.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your timing was impeccable as always, as you choked on your own saliva before breaking into a coughing fit. He sighed and poured you a glass of water, slightly disgruntled by your antics.

He had been putting this off. He had wanted to wait for the right time, for it to be romantic and dreamy, everything you deserved. But each time the opportunity arose he lost his nerve, and now here you both were: in your kitchen, before you had to go to work, choking on thin air, decidedly unromantic.

“I’ll take that as a no.” You shook your head ferociously before attempting to sip the liquid. He frowned “Well shit, you don’t have to be so enthusiastic about it.” You shook your head again, then nodded. “Yes, that’s right, you’re not interested?” You decided that this was the worst game of charades, ever. You shook your head again.

“Yes,��� *cough* “I want,” *cough* “to be your,” *cough* “girlfriend.” Despite the fact that you were barely breathing, Daniel’s thousand-watt smile appeared before you.

“Drink your fucking water and stop coughing so I can kiss you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Please don't be a ghost reader and thank you for reading! I'm happy I've been on a roll with my posting schedule but I know the next Epilogue part will not be ready by next week, so expect a little bit of a break after this (hopefully not four months again).

And thank you @thef1diary for your help

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Dbz King Kong Au in "The legend of the Mighty Great Ape"

On the Dark and Raining Night in the City of West City, Saphira was Coming home from the grocerie shopping until she sees the strange car that she doesn't know was parked on her Drive way Near her Massive manor…as she began to parked into the garage..and began to walk inside..there she sees some clothes scattered onto the floor as the sound of Moaning echoing into the hall ways and she began to follow to the Sorce..and notice the door was opened..and she saw Her Now "Soon-to-be EX-" Fiance Name "Timothy Conney" making Love With His Mistress….Her Blood began to Boil when she sees Him doing this..and all the 7 years of Relationship has been Gone Down the Drain, So She began to Speak in rage,

Saph:"TIMOTHY LANDUS CONNEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!?"

Tim froze and so does his mistress in fear seeing saphira all in rage and all..and Saphira's eyes was now like an angry fire burning Right at him..and then he said,

Tim:"Saph! I can Explain! this wasn't Looks like!"

Saph:"OH! This Wasn't Look like huh!? Well It Looks like you've been making love with This BITCH And Throwing all this 7 years of OUR relationship Down the Toilet FOR THIS!"

Saphira Said Coldly While Pointed at the Mistress Who is Clearly Scared of Saphira's Fury And then She said that will make him begged for Mercy,

Saphira:"Thats it! I'M CALLING OFF THE ENGAGEMENT And I'M KICKING YOU AND THAT BITCH OUT! And also..I'm calling your parents and tell them everything you've done and Including this!"

Tim:"SAPH! No please! I'm sorry..I've begging you..I'll treat you better this time…I'll break up with her! Just please..My parents will punish me For this!"

Saph:" I don't care! I knew your parents Hated Cheaters and it'll be really Shocked if their son is a Serial Cheater and tarnish the families name for it..and also I'll be suing you for this as well along with your Whore!"

Saphira Did call her parents as she was told him, So His parents grabbed him and the mistress and tore timmy up into a new For what he had done to saphira for mistreatment and Cheating as well…after that…Saphira the next day..try to work at the theater as a lovely actress..but the theater was closed down Due to Bankrupt and Now..She was desparate to find it..until this Explorer wanted saphira to be part of this "Act" in the movie..by taking her to an adventuring cruise..So Saphira accepted..as the Long Voyage of the sea..Fog was appearing almost looks like it came from the Horror story but they discovered an island that No one ever been there..or Live to tell the tale…after they landed on the Unknown island…where they sees the Giantantic walls and ruined villiage..until…it was an ambush by the natives..as one of them was killed..Made Saphira screaming bloody murder…but the Sound of the mighty beast Roars as the Natives Knew that She was Chosen to become the sacrifice of the Mighty beast itself but then Other Adventurers Came to the rescue..but that night..the natives taken Saphira for the Ritual of Sacrifice..She was tied up to the poles as She screams..and struggles..hearing the drums and Chanting…until silence was sudden…She hears the Loud Rustling and trees fallen..as she sees the Giant Dark figures…as She screams Louder and echoes through the island as the great ape looked at her with a piercing red eyes and he began to touched her cheeks with his finger gently and he began to grabbed her and tore the rope up..as he roars loudly…and runs to the jungle with her in his hands..and then..Something shocking that saphira heard..and This beast said…

[denimbex1986]

Pride is returning to cinemas for its 10th anniversary

'Comfortably one of the best British films of the 2010s is the wonderful Pride, an uproariously funny and really moving ensemble film set in the 1980s. Led by George MacKay, Andrew Scott, Ben Schnetzer, Faye Marsay, Dominic West, Imelda Staunton, a sex toy, Paddy Considine, Bill Nighy and Freddie Fox, it felt like a movie out of nowhere when it first arrived.

Telling the story of the miner’s strike in the UK in the 1980s, and the efforts of a bunch of lesbian and gay activists to support them, it still remains something of a one-off. Penned by Stephen Beresford and directed by Matthew Warchus, the modestly-budgeted film hardly set the box office alight on its initial release, but it’s earned a rich and deserved reputation since for a film that’s well, well worth seeking out.

With that in mind, for the tenth anniversary of the movie, the lovely people at Park Circus are offering an opportunity to see the film on the big screen again. It’s going to be re-releasing Pride in cinemas on 7th June across the UK. It’s currently listed as going to just over 25 screens, and as such is likely to gravitate towards big cities. But it’s worth having a word with your local independent cinema to see if it can play the film.

I’ve written before on this website about why I think Pride deserves a much bigger audience, and it’s really lovely to see the opportunity once again to catch it on the big screen. Very much looking forward to doing so...

Finally, that synopsis…

Pathé’s Pride is about the extraordinary true story of two very different communities who unite to defend the same cause. It’s Summer 1984, Margaret Thatcher is in power, and the National Union of Mineworkers are on strike! At the Gay Pride March in London, a group of gay and lesbian activists decides to raise money to support the families of the striking miners. But the only problem is the Union seems too embarrassed to receive their support. Not discouraged, the activists ignore the Union and go direct to the miners. They identify a small mining villiage in Wales to make their donations to the community in person. This journey begins a surprising partnership between two seemingly alien communties as they fight for the same cause.'

[stevie-petey]

my sister is now only a few mins car drive from west villiage aka where joe lives and now apparently gaten im so jealous lol

tell her i say hi

[winterwolvesandstarbucks]

{Flashback}

It felt like a tedious evening against the tumultuous onslaught of unabated hunger that jetted through his veins; standing on the cement edge of a gridlock near an upscale residential sector, Bucky steered his grayish-aquamarine irises blearily at the crosswalk sign, trying his utmost to evade the incessant-congested traffic rushing against the powdery snowfall. Amber scones of streetlight glared off brownstone storefront windows that were adorned with scarlet heart-shaped decor-the West Villiage was a hotspot of numerous artisan chocolate shops; he eagerly purchased an overpriced box of Swiss fudge coated strawberries and shredded coconut to ignite a new Valentines tradition with his enchantingly beautiful kitten (kotenok).

He was still learning the ropes on engaging subtle-visceral tactics on the arena of passion; he felt unnervingly out of depth. Tonight was about risking all measures of the heart-indulging on rich chocolate and decadent- the addictive flavor that was infused in the ardent lushness of Selina's pillowy voluminous lips. Nothing ever challenged to those indescribable moments of visceral reverence-freedom that always left a shivery phantom caress over his fusing lips when the beckoning heat intimately captured him into mirroring duel of imploded surrender when the world deafened out against the blinding urgency of breathless tempo.

Clutching the rose paper bag with a rigid of his leather sheathed hand, grudgingly Bucky waited for the intersection's signal light to switch red; the wispy snowflakes powdered over the sleekness of his black leather jacket, became a soothing deterrent in that wake of vigilant contrast. Under his threadbare Dodger's baseball cap, lengthy wolfish chestnut tresses were shaggily disheveled against the icy gales that swept over his jacket. The ambiance of the Upper East Side of Midtown felt viscerally pulsating against the airy snow drifts, a barraging convergence of winter had been encroaching over the eastern horizon as Bucky involuntary felt the proximity of nocturnal apparitions evolving in shadowy backdrops.

The grounds of crime-ridden alleys thrust a grappling wake on undeterred terror; he never evited the valorous impulse to unstoppably gun his enhanced speed when a beckoning scream of mugged victim careened in the airways. He wanted to alter the measure of relevance-humanity-to stake the hellbent spirit of valiant Brooklyn again; he was a destructive-surgically enhanced amnesic; a vermined deviant out of the 'sleeper' ranks of HYDRA. The electronic-convulsive tortures conducted by the parasitic insanity of Armin Zola made him 'damaged goods'-a mechanicalized Siberian wraith agonizingly chastened in the hostile drift to comply with murderous orders of predatory termination.

Uncertainty gripped Bucky when his aquamarine irises flashed stormily with laser-edge intensity that veered on an elderly couple across the street exiting out of a Starbucks, timeless years of prevailing devotion etched in their wrinkled smiles and conveyed in their lagging paces-it wasn't a cheap run of expandable love-they outlasted the battleground of life -that kind of love was damn real.

'Wow..." he murmured throatily, feeling a quirk stretched up his shapely-wide lips."That's really somethin'..." He gnawed on the swell of his raw underlip, hastiness rapt over the hard-edge planes of his stubbled features as he stifled out a vexatious breath, whooshing traffic passed the curbside as he reeled haphazardly back against the cement pole. He didn't want to robotically fix his sniper vision on them like marked down targets, as his bristled jaw fiercely clenched with a dragging breath. Arcs of the blurring headlights of impeded traffic glinted off the vibrainium-alloy plates of his bionic hand that was rebelliously sheathed in motorcycle leather; unbeknownst that soon he would engage a reckoning of a sorcerous onslaught when the ascent of vengeance clashed against his world.

smugness

his fingers feathered down

fusion of their bodies

The vacuous ambiance of the Weirwood estate's stable grounds heralded an unbidden sense of detachment to chase down rebellious momentum of a reined caged spirit. Bordering the Gothic manor were black onyx statues of winged stallions that were mounted like frozen sentinels at iron- gates of the stableyard; runic sigils of Noric mythicism had been visibly etched into the flawless expanse of their reared sculpted chests. A telestic aura veined through each stall-a harvesting implosion of astral energy that spawned a power of ignited reckoning of carious malice.

The prevalent embrace of home-security was tested by measures of expendable trust that achingly rivaled out the insurgency of the breeding ranks. It wasn't a harbor of anchoring serenity to ground her against the ravaging-brazen impulses to race out onto a free road.

Restlessness stemmed bone-deep through her dormant veins as her spaded ears twitched reactively against the whickering turbulence of her captive stablemates-a massively bulked smoky gray Shire, a sleek chestnut Arabian, and an intimidatingly jet-black Friesian mare. Auras of unbridled confusion grudgingly reigned around her with encompassing-constrictive force. Salvaging onto threads of warring restraint, she evicted the stoking urges to echo their grievous cadence. The pulses of soul defiance were beaten out of them until the ranks were throbbingly conditioned to the gravity of submission.

Being rewarded for tolerable compliance was having sugar cubes and slices of apples shoved down her large furred throat. Nevertheless, it was a condemned reality that she braced against every daybreak, trying her utmost to not devolve into a sterilized husk of prized docility. Silvery glints of encroaching morning light caressed over furred splotches of mahogany and stark white alabaster that exquisitely sheathed over the corded muscle of her voluptuous equine form. Her disheveled lustrous tresses sleekly cascaded with draping length over the broad and lithesome curves of her neck.

Among her clamorous ranks, she was an indescribably alluring Gypsy Vanner mare infused with feminine resilience that was delicately evident on the jutted curves of her bulky form. She was a mystifying chimera of Noric legends that was a descendant of the warrior chargers of empyrean realms. There was no revealing protrusion extending out the heaviness of her girth that heartbreakingly detracted from her desirous sirenic beauty-she was temptingly honed with a graceful and silken vitality that fused in every rigid muscle that sculpted her into a treasured prisoner of her viperous keeper who insidiously reeked of arrogance.

Thomas Weirwood was the highborn cavalier of his family's dynasty who embodied a malicious will to claim domination among the elite stations. His cutthroat stakes had prospered on the biding market with truancy of moral regard towards hoarding distinct horse breeds. He relentlessly thirsted to conquer any obstructions to his groundswell of wealth.

Given the secrecy of his aspirations to rule the breeding stocks; no outsider was authorized to breach her veiled proximity without the command of his avaricious intent, Thomas mercilessly stilted her to remain untouchable-off limits- and isolated from trotting out into the frigid gusts that whitened the grounds. Derisively, the mare emitted out a vehement snort and gawkily pivoted on her block-shaped hooves towards a prepared bed of hay, a scarlet blanket had been recently discarded off the wooden gate, no doubt from an irascible neighbor that was coaxingly ushered out of the doors for a morning fill by the newly hired stable boy.

An effective gentleness tactilely jarred her incredulous resolve as her dark bronze irises steered towards the wintry contrast, feeling a perpetual tug ardently burgeoning her stiffened awareness when the virile smokiness of rosewood and mint tantalizingly wavered against the myriads of putrid- odorous stink that nauseously enwreathed her raring senses. With a challenging snort of cool poise, the headstrong gypsy mare began painstakingly to ease herself down with deft precision as her muscled legs with conscious traction braced underneath the largeness of her heavy-set form. With a flex of her long muzzle, she bated grittingly out a breath, a rampant barrage of repulsive urges dredged up an inevitable question that she heatedly murmured out. "Is this how a big girl lives forever?"

Her question remained unanswered in the gloom of her secluded stall. The days passed in a countless blur that she didn't care to count, not until he had arrived. As if her thoughts were being read, her sharp hearing listened to a familiar thumping of footsteps outside of her concealed area. The other stallions and mares reacted with high-pitched neighs and sputtering when the new yet familiar stable-hand entered the stables bearing buckets of treats. "Hey you guys. Miss me?" James smiled as he set the buckets down. The horses' volume increased at his question as if they responded with exuberance and desperation. His heart ached for a number of them he'd become fond of since coming to work for Thomas Weirwood. Dressed in a pair of brown cargo pants and a heavy winter coat. His thick long tresses were combed into a neat bun with a snow cap over his temple. His boots were caked with fresh snow that he dutifully cleaned off before entering the enclosure.

"I know you did. I come bearing gifts. Don't get too eager with them; we're a bit low on stocks till next week," he urged as he began passing apples and sugarcubes between the horses. Many of them neighed and nuzzled his hand with appreciation. Others were too quiet for his liking and wordlessly took the food. They were the ones he worried about, especially once he noticed the telltale signs of abuse or depression due to their unhospitable owner. James never regretted taking a job here for such minimal pay. If his presence here helped these majestic animals even a little bit, it more than made up for the salary. "Hang in there, bud," he said to a comely stallion with a golden mane that reminded him of someone he couldn't place.

Once his eyes focused in on the adjacent area of the main enclosure, he felt a prickle of curiosity when he noticed the unlocked door that Thomas always tended to keep guarded. It was left open, maybe in a hurry the Weirwood forgot to close the pen. James knew he kept his most prized stallions sealed off from the others, but had never been given a chance to see them. How rare were they that they had to be sealed off from the others? It was a cruel thing to do. These horses were living breathing animals, not trophies to be kept on display, and certainly not fragile to be kept inside. At least he hoped not.

Against his better judgment, he decided it was time to see what all the secrecy was about. Picking up a bucket he made his way towards the sealed area.

In the breached instant, she guardingly registered an encroacher invading her forbidden proximity, the enchanting mare wrenched her head up fervently with breakneck reaction, frustratingly she drew out a neigh, with a chagrined effort to steadily lift up the hulking mass of her latent body-a sluggish tumult of rejected hunger was increasingly crippling her mobility. The advancing boot steps of tactical exactness hauntingly distracted her intent when her dark irises fleetingly captured a robotic gleam of metallic cutting through a dense shadow-a beckoning menace that arrested her rapid pulse. "Whoever you are... stay back..." she railed, bitingly in a raspy pitch, thrusting the heft of a feathery white forehoof that fringed viciously against the wooden planks of her gated door. "I'm not playing..."

"Hello?" James paused the moment he entered the gloomy space the moment he heard an aggressive neigh carry out from a closed stall far ahead. The area was dim except for the pale daylight that entered through a single window just above the stall where he could see the shape and shadow of a single horse. His curiosity was replaced by increased awe the moment got a good look at the mare inside. A Gypsy Vanner. Rare and endangered. She was big, but not in an obese sense. Her length and build told of a hidden strength within, accentuated by her majestic beauty; a silky brown coat of mahogany, unblemished by time and weather, generous curves with hard muscle that shimmered in the pale light. What captivated him most was the depth and expression he could see in her brown eyes.

It was daunting and alluring all at once. He found himself staring in open silence with the bucket of apples in his hand and with nothing but a blank mind to guide him in approaching the creature. Questions ran through him the longer he stood. Why was this beautiful creature locked up like this? Where did Mr. Weirwood acquire her from? The question he found himself wondering most was the most simple and crucial. "What is your name?" A lengthy pause followed before he realized the silliness of his question. How could he expect her to respond? She was just a horse…

"I mean...My name is James. Don't worry, I'm a friend." He tried, talking to her with the same level of openness as he did the other horses.

The imploring stretch of his gloved hand bespoke subtle caution as he evidently leaned against the gate, reaching to stroke unkempt tresses of her mane. The intimating flex of delineated cords of muscles grew tauter under his jacket -he showed a reality of an invincible clash of dormant power stoking through his veins-a roguish implosion that ghosted in a stark cadence of his alluring heat that intensely melded in a cool light of his grayish-aquamarine irises as he furrowed assessingly into a taut pinch. She detected a charade of palpable restraint in the variances of his measured footing as his shapely-wide lips quirked up smirkily, he was obviously trying to enforce a solid ground of trust between them.

As the stable boy dared another step against the gate with the approach of evident trust, she felt patent cast of menace radiating off the smooth planes of his boyishly rugged features, that dangerously echoed in his impassive stance. He didn't smell greasy or beer-washed like the other irresponsible workers, the whiff of his masculine scent of heady sandalwood and Irish spring was intoxicatingly familiar that made her senses riot in the fiery wake of reaction.

Unceremoniously with a feverish tracery of throated strain, the elfin mare whickered out a braying -derisive snort, her oval-shaped eyes gleamingly blazed akin to liquid flint as she fixed her unwavering stare on the lush empire apple balancing in the deft clutch of his opened palm as he unerringly brandished a knife. Lunging her thickened neck back, she tellingly revealed a feral snap of her jutted teeth; the stable boy didn't attempt to budge against her unhinged aggressiveness. "Can't you get the damn hint..." She murmured stormily, hammering down a forehoof with bone-fracturing momentum. "I want to be left alone..."

The racking gravity didn't falter between them, James begrudgingly didn't reel back against the powerful thump of her feathered hooves quaking the ground as his rigid stance became invested with measured tack. Quirking his shapely lips into an easy smirk, he drawled back soothingly."Easy there big girl, M' not gonna force ya..." The mare registered the suave pitch that resonated murmurously deep, and with the practiced ease of teasing intent, he shoved the juicy apple back into a pocket of his dark gray hooded parka. "Well, I guess you're not hungry, huh..." he quipped out cockily, readying for an instinctive nudge of her muzzle with an unnerving turn of his back as he pressed his lips taut with rapt disappointment."Too bad it's kinda the last one..."

At first she appeared to ignore his tempting fact if the upturn of her snout was any indication. For a moment it threw him by how stubborn and human it seemed. Horses were known to be cleverly majestic animals that could pick up on human expressions, but Bucky had to wonder if they were always this vivid. As he held the apple in his hand, he looked between the defiant mare and the piece of fruit and shrugged. Maybe Thomas had fed her before he arrived? He really doubted that. "How about I just leave this right here for you." Stepping forward cautiously he placed the apple on top of a stack of hay within reach of the Vanner who watched him closely. "In case you're hungry later," he smiled thinly at her, hoping it would be a start to showing he meant her no harm. The next step involved introductions. "My name is James. I started working here a few weeks ago. Its my job to take care of you...and the others."

The infinite gravity was trust felt ephemerally unnerving, raptly tilting her furred muzzle with dismissive ease of raw coolness, with a rivalrous variance of intimidating traction on her massive block-sized hooves; the vixenish mare gratingly fumed out a heated-scoffing breath. "Lucky you..." A rueful pitch of unbridled snark heatedly chased out a neighing snort; she became maddeningly aware that he wouldn't evade the soul-piercing glint of her dark-brandy irises, she needed to harbor a different tactic as the flavorous scent of the apple he'd effectively placed on the haystack was temptingly revving up warred-uncompromising hunger. "Don't you have someone else to small talk with...?"

James had worked with horses long enough to tell when they were trying to communicate. From the huff of a deep breath, to a pitch of their neighing voice, their messages could be construed as either agreeable, stubborn or hostile. The mare in front of him had stubbornness seeped into her very bones, he knew that to get her to trust him he would have to be a bit stubborn himself. "Can't say I understand what you just said but I'm sure it was lovely," he snarked with his usual brand of wit. "Usually when a pretty dame is trying to get rid of me, she's a little more subtle." he recalled his previous girlfriend, who hadn't been so understanding of his line of work to spend more time take care of animals in need than doting on her every waking moment. A cup of coffee had been thrown at him which effectively ended their relationship. Not that he minded so much that he had been wearing his favorite shirt that day. "Do you mind if I keep you company awhile?" he asked the mare as he eyed a stool close-by. "It'll be awhile till the others will be needing me to dot on em."

Enforcing a reactive semblance of curbed vehemence, stiflingly gypsy mare lowered down her bulkier mass over discarded hay, mirroring him as he dragged out the metal stool with the charming tack of boyish deviousness evident to the etched crow-lines bracketing under the length his roguishly disheveled tresses; she refused to give him a moment in her isolated stall, with instinctive readiness teeming in her voluptuously massive form, painstakingly she thrusted her muzzle, snapping a gripped bite over a putrid blanket that she immediately draped over her widened shoulders, unblinkingly glaring at him twirling a combat knife with conscious fluidly in lethal accord of his gloved bionic figures-pretty impressive. A flitting quirk stretched over her rose-white fur of her equine muzzle as she became hypnotized by the mechanized precision of the glinting steel. Breathily she emitted a snort, angling her larger head up with an unguarded fringe of curiosity.

"Habit of mine," Bucky explained as he continued to twirl the knife between his fingers as if it were an extension of himself. "Been doing it for as long as I can remember. It just helps me to think." There were times he felt as if there was a part of himself that he had yet to discover. Something locked away and hidden in the recesses of oblivion that would one day emerge. It terrified and excited him all at once. Setting the knife down he exhaled deeply, taking a moment to survey the interior of his enclosed part of the stable where this unnamed mare was being kept. Adorned along the walls were a number of common tools used for attending the stall. But what caught his attention were a few framed plaques that depicted horse racing and a beautiful country-side somewhere abroad. "Venice, huh? Or is it Romania? Can't say I've ever been there. But I'm guessing that's where Thomas picked you up, huh?"

Against her tempered chagrin of defensive reaction, edgily the mare's spaded ears unceremoniously twitched as the graveled smokiness of resonance of his Brooklyn drawl arrestingly breached her with a tactful steadiness that was underlying a penetrative urgency that he stowed back- definite echoes of unwarranted-visceral heartache in strained cadence. She didn't know where Thomas had sired-bred her as a young foal; she felt unremittingly abandoned- phantom denizens of cleaved memory became rampant volumes of listless static in warred dregs of possessive detachment.

The rebellious deviance of their barred souls had nakedly become a beckoning force as she unstintingly felt the palpable urge to nudge his denim-clad knee with the taut heaviness of her muzzle. In a headrush effort of telltale fervency was grippingly suffusive, the mare closed the distance between them, and tentatively pushed a wood-trimmed grooming brush towards his threadbare boot, with a ragged-out snort. "Well, at least you can make yourself useful," she murmured, huskily, watching his brows pinch into a tense furrow, knowing that her avaricious raven-haired keeper would never permit it. "I won't tell..."

[kiltons-collection]

The stone colossus or Talus: Rare Locations (4/5)

23) Tabantha Hills - Southeast of Tama Pond, West of Tabantha Hills & Villiage Ruins

24) West Vatorsa Snowfield - Midway between Meadela's Mantle and Vatorsa Snowfield

25) Illumeni Plateau - On the plateau northwest of Mijah Rokee Shrine. south-southwest of Tabantha Bridge Stable

26) Gisa Crater - West of Tabantha Tower

27) Kolami Bridge South - East of Tabantha Tower

28) Hyrule Castle West - On a small island, west of Hyrule Castle

29) Hyrule Castle Underground - Enter through the East entrance to Hyrule Castle (entrance is under the yellow plus sign, didn't quite get it on the screenshot)

[wofew]

You hold my hand on the street, walk me to my apartment. Years ago, we were just inside. Barefoot in the kitchen, sacred new beginnings.

Taylor Swift

Cornelia Street

[industryhearts]

Karlies west villiage apartment

Im rewatching LWYMMD and I think im finding easter eggs.. but Im not sure cause maybe people already know about them?

[abandoned-but-not-forgotten]

Animatronic John Wayne at Western Village a abandoned Wild West theme park in Japan

(Source)

[stanleygarage-blog]

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[ask-the-germanic-family]

I’m on vacation in Frankenmuth which is a ‘Bavarian village’ in the US, they have Switzerland, Germany, and Austria’s flags all over but not a single Liechtenstein flag.

Liechtenstein- Oh really? Everyone else's?........well I suppose it doesn't really matter anyway, I hope you have fun on your trip.

Switzerland- Of course it matters! Just let me speak to them.

Kugelmugel- Switzerland's going to get banned from Frankenmuth isn't he?

Germany- Nevermind that, they have a what now in the US?

Prussia- It's a Bavarian villiage thing, learn to read West. The more important issue is why isn't my flag there!?

Austria- Because nobody uses your flag anymore!

[relaxxattack]

I love tales (wish there was more fanfic or a better way to serch on ao3 for it)

The lore from it is fun but i literally came for it because of The villiage that went mad

One of my fav characters will always be Helga, Robin, Cat from that episode

Other Fav characters are

Butler (kid got kidnapped and was just fun. Got freedom to speak then lost it)

Billiam (Man stole money and a kid)

Mizu boys (None of them have the brain cell)

Everyone from The Pit

Jackie

The Wild West characters are fun

Tl;dr of this section

Everybody is so fun

Also i loved every episode execpt the haunted manison

(Big Fav character is Crops. Bow to the Canibal)

===

Tales is just fun as nothing really needs to be taken seriously execpt the Inbetween and the Other Side

Literally a man was married to a chicken. It is basically dsmp without a truckload of angst

...

I miss tales so much

I want space characters. (I think that is what the next episode is suppose to be about)

===

Have a great day!!

aww yeah. i big agree with this

i also like how you’ve listed “jackie” as separate from “everyone in the pit”, he deserves his own mention

[taylorswiftsthighs]

Every time I listen to False God, I feel like I'm going to go straight to Hell for it because Taylor blashphemied against the Catholic Church so hard with the song by comparing, er... *Bed relations with her West Villiage lover* to The Eucharist/Holy Communion, the most important of all Catholic sacrements. Especially since participating in The Eucharist is supposed to give the communicant the state of grace that's necessary for eternal salvation of the immortal soul. False God, it's TOO much 😭

😂 I'm not religious so I can't really relate. Personally I think it's a brilliant comparison.

[sookicide]

what are some good bop seeds bcus all the worlds i spawn in r so ugly

anon i went searching for you and the only cute one i rlly found was:

6089024180890115664

you spawn in front of a lake, but if you turn around and head to -352 / 65 / 75(or north-west according to xaeros minimap) theres a cherry blossom grove and its pretty cute because theres a lil pondi also found a beach villiage at about -283 / 66 / -307

anyone who knows any good ones can put them in the notes ! (if i wrote down the coordinates wrong lemme kno bc its 1am and numbers r so annoying)

[stevie-petey]

if you are talking about jocelyn rock 👀👀 she's literally one of my fave influencers and so down to earth and very great full for everything west villiage is fancy fancy bestie like damn my sister literally goes by there every time she takes the shuttle to work from hoboken.

omg no i saw a few beauty influenced and models i love so it was so so surreal