#she helped ghostwrite this

[quigzahhutt]

my contribution to the F1 family tree conversation. the Mercedes family tree ✨✨

(click the image for higher quality)

#i made this at 2am #@udonly is a horrible no good very bad influence on me #she helped ghostwrite this #f1 #mercedes f1 #brocedes #britcedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #george russell #frederik vesti #doriane pin #paul aron #kimi antonelli #lh44 #gr63 #nr6 #mercedes junior team #prema racing #fv7 #dp85 #pa17 #ka4 #god made a mistake giving me free will #valtteri bottas #vb77 #mercedes amg petronas #mercedes amg f1

[trappednyourheart]

The wrong DNA test

( what if, Sheila wasn't really Jason's mother? The system is already corrupted, then what about the test?).

A huge brawl containing every rogue had started at the time of Halloween, causing the people from downtown to fled there home's as joker had clownized the whole neighborhood with his goon's.

Every bats had taken to groups to take out the three parts of Gotham's as the rogue's had started to make alliances, some had lasted quite long while had conflicts, and causing a big damage to Arkham asylum,

It didn't take long before they captured all of them, none of the bats questions as they observed Jason glowing green eyes starting to flick, they thought it was the pit again, growing wary of the cooperation, but Crime alley was involved and that mean business to Red hood's turf.

Catherine todd love her son as her own even if not biological, Jason knew that. But her thing with drugs couldn't make her stop.

Sometimes after that, they could hear Jason humming a tune,a nice melody from Damian's statement saying that Jason muttered to him “ lullaby” as Jason continued to read his book, maybe it could be from Catherine,

they knew how Jason's past with Catherine todd, his mom even if not related, Catherine loves her son like her own kid but her doing drugs and... overdosing couldn't be stop.

Maybe Jason just remembered his mother maybe reminiscing atleast something familiar...even if it was a bad time.

Jason had constantly have been hearing a woman's? Man's? Voice, singing him a lullaby...it soothing, like as if he known and loved this melody...and that's where the dreams kept coming, there was a person, giving him kisses, Talkin to him stories, singing him lullabies and soothing him, he could dream that he was actually a baby, a baby from a normal couple, well don't count the luxurious baby room.

Jason had took out a conspiracies why he was getting this dreams, ( he swears he's not becoming Tim) and voices, maybe like a misshapen memories from the pits of victims? No it's to peaceful for that, maybe magic? He already contacted Constantine but surely hang up after knowing who it was-

Just how is he getting this dreams? Unless it wasn't.... So he proved again his point, he started a DNA test, again but none had records...of Sheila being his biological mother...that was weird, last time he had a test was from the time as robin..and before his-

So he went to that hospital who had said where Sheila had given birth to him, and most of shock is that no one knows a mother giving birth named Sheila haywood but had a document of a baby, of one Jason jay nightingale, the most believing part was that it's the same day he was born in.

His mother, Daniel F. Nightingale was said to be trans as the doctor who help his mother safely delivered him, And saying that his mother loved him,

one Sheila Haywood had the constant trick to get him and taken him as his own, because his mother's family was a wealthy one they practically sold him to her.

Jason had thought that maybe his mother's family never wanted him to have a son with a man from Gotham's crime alley.

Meanwhile Danny had just been YEETED to the DC universe before the start of Batman's justice thing and had been adopted by a very wealthy fruit loops couple as there kid, so he stayed as the couples daughter even pretending, because he owed ghost writer a favor for the last time, and as DC universe exist so it's story, and one thing for sure the child he had to give birth in this universe has a very complicated fate,

he did the one night stand from his supposed friend Willis Todd? He had to befriend him as Dalia F. nightingale the supposed Wealthy daughter who fell in love with a peasant trope, and gotten pregnant making it a scandal, and reaching to his ‘parents’ circle and getting that drama.

But he never thought he would care for his child, his little jay, his ghost side would purr in delight when they held Jason, he was a very hard sucker especially from his pacifier or his breast, it's so weird being in a women body,

but the way his ‘parents’ sold his son to the women who was supposed to get his son killed and being revived by cheap parody ass of ectoplasm.

He went feral, he had an argument to his ‘parents’ but all fell deaf ears, he couldn't find his son in one of the hotels nearby where that BXtch was.

And that time was where his part of the script was fulfilled, ghost writer already took him, both sides of his, were angry.

He. will. get. his. baby. back.

#dcxdp #Danny phantom #dcxdp crossover #Mom!Danny #Batfam #Jason todd #portraits #When the bats find this they decided to help find Jason's Mom only to find out she went missing #his Jay Nightingale now #yes- im getting of topic #so lets just say that clockwork has also has some things involved with his #dcdp #batfam #and ghostwriter #so if this doesn't go to your timeline aus or smth or cannon idk what to say #when the bats found out about Jason's investigation to find his mother #they gladly help but after finding where jason's grandparents who sold him to Haywood #they meet with them #and the whole revealed was much more depressing because His mother died/missing/suicide #Ghost writer was the one who plan the...The death scene. #so jason is sad #and very much wants his momma #because thats how ghost parents shit is right? #yeah i dont think im educated enough #So the grandparents are like grieving for there son (yes they accepted his trans btw). #and let jason and the rest of the batfam in there manor/castle ( cause there seriously old money) and introduce jason to his mom's things #portraits of danny #telling stories of danny in his youth. #but they avoided the way he ‘died’ for ghost writers plot conveniences but they mention #green...like ectoplasm but they just called it green liquid.

[evilminji]

Broadway :3c

And I hear ya. (Insert spooky joke here) There is a sprawling WEB of central hubs, for The Arts. For trade. For getting drunk and having a good time. The Zone is large and it is endless. You'll NEVER reach the far end. It can never reach you.

All things, in gentle sweeping waves, across eternity.

So when folks want to have "a market" or "a movie theater" or "the waterpark"? You gotta PICK a point on the endless map. Figure if you are close or far enough away for others like it, to make it worth the effort to build.

You might even be the first to do it for GALAXIES in any direction! People might fly for WEEKS to come to your place! Move their Lairs to be closer too it. Like dust gathered by gravity, slowly creating planets and stars. A mega Lair. A CITY.

They rise, they fall, the Zone shifts all the while.

But!

Does the dead starlet stop singing? Does getting gunned down, stop the show?? I think NOT! Where is her STAGE? What musicals? What dramas? What operas and tragedies and forms unknown to human kind??! Ballet dancers who CAN defy gravity! Singers who have no NEED for air! The haunting blend of instruments, that could never in life have met! From empires long turned to ASH!

The greatest show in DEATH!

Ember was a world wide hit. Yes, her voice was hypnotic. But that could be FOUGHT. It was SKILL that carried the game. And she was hardly "I was Literally The Greatest My Planet Ever Produced" skilled. She was good, great even. Not "I was Born For Greatness" Excellence.

And like?

.....eventually? Danny's gonna ask after "cultural-y" Culture stuff. Clothes and food. Music and the arts. To help his parents get used to the whole "our son is half-dead" thing. To show he's not some mindless monster now.

And? Ghostwriter? Probably an absolute legend. Does he know where you can find some CULTURE? Oh THANK ZONE! He thought you'd NEVER ask! You unsophisticated-! *fist fight in a library* Still a dick, though. Always and forever.

And just? Imagine Broadway stretched out into a floating city. That never sleeps. Never stops. Shows ever changing. Some on a cycle, some only once. Dream-like. Beautiful. Eye catching.

And yeah, Danny didn't think he LIKED musicals. It was more of a Jazz thing. But? This was important! Gotta get the whole family in the Speeder. We're going to see a play, guys! We'll pick when we get there! Family road trip! Educational! We can make notes!

His parents are trying to be supportive. Big, fixed, strained grins. Trying to pretend to be excited. But they... DO seem reluctantly intrigued? And Jazz is all but vibrating in her seat. It's basically her "before you go away to college" present. And she is THRILLED.

The longer she excitedly speculates? The more into it she gets their folks. This IS gonna be new! Exciting! Never before seen Ghost Culture! Music! As a FAMILY! Think we could find souvenirs? Ooooh, wonder if they sell CDs??!

Then? They GET there. And it's... it's like seeing the Las Vegas strip for the first time, except multiplied into a city. Made of even MORE styles and eras. At angles gravity would never allow.

The air filled with laughter and excitement, people rushing to shows or humming bits of tunes. Street stalls. Fountains. Flowers growing everywhere.

They could stay for months and not even reach a fraction of these buildings. His parents are taking countless photos. His sister squeeling with joy as she races for an information kiosk like they just arrived at Disneyland. He, at least, remembers to lock up the Speeder. Grab their day bags.

When did HE become the responsible one?

The argue over shows. Obviously. Wouldn't be Fenton's otherwise. HE wants to see the alien one. It's from mars! But it's his sister's trip, as his dad points out, so she gets to choose. She picks a musical set during the Fall of Krpton. He's... reluctantly kinda interested. I mean, EVERYBODY likes Superman, right?

It's... it's amazing. Terrible, but amazing. I mean? A coming of age story cut tragically short? Oof. Hello, massively projecting then getting FEELS about it! Yeah, sure, rip my heart out why don't you? He's fine. No, really! Just drowning in his own emotions over here. The refrain of "A Life Well Lived"? *gargling dying whale noises* he's FINE. Not grappling with anything! Go on without him!

Thankfully?

They DO sell CDs.

He... he may end up, kinda, getting a bit of a collection. Going on the weekends, hoping show to show. Wandering to whichever catches his eye in the moment. Buying the CDs for one's he likes. Which? Honestly is a lot of them. Even though there's all sorts of genres and languages. Cause it... it RESONATES you know?

The grief. The anger. The "I have died but I wasn't FINISHED. It isn't FAIR.". And? Something about ghost speak flows so BEAUTIFULLY in song? It's hard to explain. But he... he needs them.

A pair of headphones, a CD, and a clear night sky? Nothing touches it. It's like a trance made of light. Like he can just drift.

The problem? Is the CDs are kinda... Zone made? They're radioactive, for one. Nothing a Fenton CD player can't handle. But... they? Also? Kinda fuckin GLOW? Like... very, very noticeably. And not in a "ha ha, cool glow in the dark paint!" Sorta way.

.........but like FUCK is he leaving his music behind when he goes to college. Gotham will have to deal. It's already a burning shit-nado, it can handle this. Probably. He'll put um in a lead lined box. Actually, speaking OF.... he needs to get a few more of those... *goes back to packing*

Which? Is how? The Bats are treated to some of the most HAUNTING music they've ever heard, belted and crooned from Some Guy's speakers, out an open window, on the "stop for a mid-patrol drink of water and a snack" building. It's one of the intersections of their patrol routes. And THAT? That is some dude listening to a Romani ballad about death and the circus. Now it's a musical about the trenches of an obscure war.

Okay, that was DEFINITELY Kryptonian. Like... coherent Krypto- *Bruce gets a call from Clark on his "work" number DEMANDING to know where that is coming from. Who is that voice Bruce?!* huh.... Well Then.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @spidori @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #minji's writing #broadway of the Zone au #Danny's music au

[creatives-argentines]

MASTERPOST OF ARGENTINEAN CREATIVES: COMMISSIONS OPEN

We called for argentinean artists, writers, animators, graphic designers and musicians to send us their work to boost them in the international market, and here we all are!

Because of our country's political decline in the hands of a fascist government we are in need of help.

We are in need of visibility and financial aid, so everyone that you see here is open for commissions, and the masterpieces you see are what you can look forward to.

We will update this post every month according to the entries we might get in the future, until the end of June. On the 15th of July there will be another masterpost, hopefully with more people!

Also, we will be reblogging their pieces so stick around and see what they'll do in the future, and please consider reblogging anything you like from us or from them directly, it goes a long way.

Lastly, we're trying to keep it bilingual, so if you see an image that has writing in just one language (or both!), check the ALT TEXT, it will have both spanish and english versions.

________________________

Convocamos a artistas, escritores, animadores, diseñadores gráficos y músiques argentines a que nos envíen sus trabajos para potenciarlos en el mercado internacional, ¡y aquí estamos todos!

Debido al declive político de nuestro país en manos de un gobierno fascista necesitamos ayuda.

Necesitamos visibilidad y ayuda financiera, así que todes los que ven aquí estamos abiertes a encargos, y las obras maestras que ven son lo que pueden esperar de nosotres.

Actualizaremos esta publicación todos los meses de acuerdo con la cantidad de fichas que podamos recibir en el futuro, hasta finales de junio. El 15 de julio habrá otro masterpost, ¡esperamos que con más gente!

Además, rebloguearemos sus obras así que quedate por acá para ver qué hacen en el futuro, y por favor considerá rebloguear cualquier cosa que te guste de nosotres o de elles directamente.

Por último, estamos tratando de mantenerlo bilingüe, así que si ves una imagen que tiene la escritura en un solo idioma (¡o ambas!), fijate en el ALT TEXT, tendrá las versiones en español e inglés.

Without further ado, enjoy~

Escritores / Writers:

@fatheriimaginedyoutaller (they/he - elle/él)

Escritor/e de 21 años. Especializado en relatos cortos y cuentos. Con pasión por el género realista y la fantasía. Inspirado en el estilo de George R.R Martin, Suzanne Collins, Liliana Heker y Kafka. Ofrezco servicios como ghostwriter y como escritor/e propiamente dicho. También puedo desempeñarme como escritor de blog y columnista de opinión en revistas online. Manejo bien el idioma inglés, con nivel bilingüe. Siendo capaz de traducir textos Trabajo en remoto. Mis tarifas oscilan entre $10 y $17 (EN PESOS) por palabra, dependiendo de la complejidad y longitud del texto comisionado. Mi obra más reciente "Pueblo Crepúsculo" fue publicada en la antología Purapalabra 2023. ________________________ 21 year old writer. Specialized in short stories and tales. With a passion for the realism and fantasy genres. Inspired by the style of George R.R Martin, Suzanne Collins, Liliana Heker and Kafka. I offer services as a ghostwriter and as a writer myself. I can also work as a blog writer and opinion columnist in online magazines. I am fluent in English, with a bilingual level. I am able to translate texts. I work remotely. My rates range from ARS$10 to $17 per word, depending on the complexity and length of the commissioned text. My most recent work "Pueblo Crepúsculo" was published in the anthology Purapalabra 2023. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @fatheriimaginedyoutaller Email: [email protected]

@mearpsdyke (she/her - ella)

Tengo 20 años, soy del NOA y me podés llamar Zee. Soy una escritora freelance, me especializo en narrativa aunque también incursiono en la poesía. Para proyectos pequeños (o sea: historias cortas) mi tarifa es de ARS$800 por cada mil (1000) palabras. Para proyectos grandes que involucren un conteo de palabras más alto, podemos charlar el precio por privado. Me especializo en el género de romance: las imágenes visuales y descripciones de emociones son lo que mejor se me da, pero también puedo escribir otros géneros como el misterio o historias más introspectivas con respecto a la psicología de los personajes. Tengo un blog de escritura bastante nuevo que empezaré a usar como portafolio, el link está abajo. Estoy dispuesta a escribir de todo por el precio justo. ________________________ I'm 20 years old, I'm from NOA and you can call me Zee. I'm a freelance writer, I specialize in narrative although I also dabble in poetry. For small projects (i.e. short stories) my rate is ARS$800 per thousand (1000) words. For international clients, my rate is USD$1 per fifty (50) words. For larger projects involving a higher word count, we can discuss pricing privately in both cases. I specialize in the romance genre: visual imagery and descriptions of emotions are what I'm best at, but I can also write other genres such as mystery or more introspective stories regarding character psychology. I have a fairly new writing blog that I will start using as a portfolio, the link is below. I'm willing to write anything for the right price. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Blog: https://servilletaliteraria.blogspot.com/ Email: [email protected] Discord: mearpsdyke

Artistas gráfiques / Graphic artists:

@denwenai

(they/them - elle)

Denwenai (elle) es une artista y diseñadore multimedia que realiza ilustraciones digitales de personajes y entornos con distintos niveles de detalle. Su estilo es fluctuante: según el objeto a retratar oscila entre las terminaciones definidas o bocetadas, un aspecto tradicional o plano, la reminiscencia con un cómic o un concept art. En cuanto a diseño, se especializa en el armado de piezas editoriales y la creación de marca. Ofrece servicios de vectorizado (tanto piezas ya existentes como de diseño propio), edición de video y motion graphics. ________________________ Denwenai (they/them) is a multimedia artist and designer who creates digital illustrations of characters and environments with different levels of detail. Their style is fluctuating: depending on the object to be portrayed, they oscillate between defined or sketched finishes, a traditional or flat look, reminiscent of a comic book or concept art. In terms of design, they specialize in the creation of editorial pieces and branding. They offer vectorizing services (both existing pieces and their own design), video editing and motion graphics. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @denwenai Instagram: @denwenai Relevant links: https://linktr.ee/denwenai

@sunnysidesup1847

(any pronouns - cualquier pronombre)

Sunny es un artista cordobés, se especializa mayormente en la figura humana (retratos, fichas de personaje) o antropomórfica en general. Se destaca en entornos de fantasía y diseño de personaje. ________________________ Sunny is an artist from Córdoba, they specialize mostly in human figures (portraits, character tokens) or anthropomorphic in general. They excel in fantasy environments and character design. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @sunnysideup1847 Relevant links: https://www.atom.bio/sunny_sides_up/

@aifastic

(they/she/he - elle/ella/él)

Aifas vive en La Plata, Buenos Aires, Argentina. Dibuja en su mayoría fanart de franquicias que le gustan, ¡pero también le encanta hacer retratos de mascotas! Últimamente ha estado probando animación cuadro por cuadro y diseño con el OpenShot Video Editor e Inkscape, respectivamente. Se especializa en el arte pop. ________________________ Aifas lives in La Plata, Buenos Aires, Argentina. They draw mostly fanart of franchises they like, but also love doing portraits of everyone's pets! Lately, they have been trying their hand at frame-by-frame animation and design with OpenShot Video Editor and Inkscape, respectively. They specialize in pop art. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @aifastic Instagram: @aifastic

@localshoulderdevil

(he/him - él)

Dibujos en técnica tradicional desde lápices, marcadores o acuarelas. Con diferentes niveles de estilización y juego con las texturas. Hago dibujos e ilustraciones, diseño de personaje y mini cómics. Me inspira la gente, los detalles únicos y la versatilidad de lo morbo. Hace un par de años ya que hago arte por encargo, me dedico principalmente al diseño de personaje. Trabajo con texturas, buscando una representación un poco más única de cada uno. Dentro de ello, puedo trabajar a detalle, puedo utilizar gore, puedo retratar con más realismo o mayor estilización; se adapta a la esencia de cada obra. ________________________ Drawings in traditional technique, from pencil, markers or watercolors. With different levels of stylization and play with textures. I do drawings and illustrations, character design and mini comics. I'm inspired by people, unique details and the versatility of morbid things. It's been a couple years since I've started doing commissioned art, I mainly do character design. I work with textures, seeking a more unique representation of each one. Within this, I can do detailed work, I can utilize gore, I can portray with more realism or more stylization; it adapts to the essence of every piece. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @localshoulderdevil Discord: dm me for it

@orfeoarte

(he/they - él/elle)

Soy artista profesional, investigador y profesor. Me apasionan el horror y los mundos fantásticos. Mis fortalezas son el diseño de criaturas y personajes, obras emotivas, y arte conceptual en diversos estilos; tanto digital como traditional. Me enorgullezco de mi educación en grabado y arte impreso: soy excelente iterando y experimentando. Para mi trabajo digital utilizo Photoshop y Clip Studio Paint. En lo que respecta al arte tradicional, uso pinturas al óleo, gouache, acuarelas, lápices de colores y tintas de varios tipos. También hago grabado xilográfico y serigráfico. Ilustré dos libros, uno de ellos también escrito por mi. Trabajo en comunicación constante con mis clientes y permito pagos flexibles y en cuotas. ________________________ I’m a professional artist, researcher and professor with a passion for horror, and fantasy worlds. My strongest suits are creature and character design, emotional pieces, and concept art in diverse styles; both traditionally and digitally. My background as a printmaker is my pride: I excel at iteration and experimentation. For my digital artwork I use Photoshop and Clip Studio Paint. When it comes to traditional work, I use oil paint, gouache, watercolors, colored pencils and various forms of ink, as well as block and silkscreen printing. I’ve illustrated two books, one of which was written by me as well. I work in close communication with my clients and allow for flexible payment plans. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @orfeoarte Instagram: @orfeoarte Twitter : @orfeoarte Illustrated books: https://issuu.com/orfeoarte

@tomicaleto

(she/her - ella)

Soy una artista tanto tradicional como digital. Estoy estudiando Filosofía y Artes Visuales en la universidad. En mis pinturas, amo usar colores vivos y disfruto dibujar animales y personas (principalmente personajes ficticios). ________________________ I’m both a traditional and digital artist. I’m studying philosophy and visual arts at university. For my paintings, I love using vibrant colours and I enjoy drawing animals and people (mostly fictional characters). Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @tomicaleto Buy me a coffee: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/tomicaleto?l=es Discord user: @tomicaleto

@ramadejazmin

(they/he - elle/él)

Ilustrador argentino de 23 años. Me gusta mucho el diseño de personajes y principalmente enfocarme en diseños de fantasía inspirados en D&D. Mis inspiraciones principales son cosas inspiradas en sueños, música de Vocaloid, caricaturas, anime y arte de otros artistas. ________________________ 23-year-old Argentinian illustrator. I love character design, mainly D&D-inspired fantasy designs. My main inspirations are things like dreams, Vocaloid music, cartoons, anime, and other artist's pieces. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @ramadejazmin BlueSky: momomottaro.bsky.social Gmail: [email protected] Toyhouse: https://toyhou.se/RamadeJazmin

@starrynightsoversunflowers

(she/her - ella)

Starrynightsoversunflowers es una artista argentina que se enfoca en los dibujos digitales, fanarts y retratos. Su estilo se basa en el uso de colores brillantes y en técnicas que emulan la pintura tradicional.  ________________________ Starrynightsoversunflowers is an argentinian artist that focuses on digital drawings, fanarts and portraits. Her style is based on the use of bright colours and techniques that emulated traditional painting. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Instagram: @starrynightsoversunflowers Gmail: [email protected]

@bloodghoul

(they/he - él/elle)

Ilustrador argentino nacido en 1996. Trabajo principalmente mezclando los primeros pasos en tradicional para realizar y terminar en digital. Los programas que más uso son PT Sai, Photoshop y Krita. Aparte de hacer arte en digital también hago bordados y pintura en acuarela. Encuentro inspiración en dibujos y animaciones de los 90s y 00s. Aprendiendo a dibujar nsfw. ________________________ Argentinian ilustrator born in 1996. I mainly work with mixed media, combining traditional sketching and inking with digital painting. My preferred programs are Paint Tool Sai, Photoshop and Krita. Besides doing digital works, my favorite mediums are embroidery and watercolors. I take inspiration from cartoons and animes fom the 90s and 00s, fashion, and cute stuff in general. Im learning how to draw nsfw to add to the repertoire. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Instagram: @twiginthecreek

@palluniskillas

(she/he - ella/él)

Palluniskillas (ella/él) es una artista de 20 años que se especializa en dibujo e ilustración digital de personajes y personas, en un estilo de dibujo estilizado. En su mayoría trabaja temas como el amor, el cariño, la moda y la naturaleza. ________________________ Palluniskillas (she/he) is a 20 year old artist who specializes in digital drawing and illustration of characters and people, in a stylized drawing style. She mostly works on themes such as love, affection, fashion and nature. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Instagram: @pallunis_killas

@nitadraws

(she/her - ella)

Nita es una artista argentina que se enfoca en dibujos digitales de animales en un estilo “chibi”. ________________________ Nita is an argentinean artist that focuses on digital animal art in a “chibi” style. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Tumblr: @nitadraws Redbubble: NitaDraws.redbubble.com Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/nitadraws

@artzover

(he/it - él/eso)

Arián es un ilustrador del norte argentino que saca inspiración de videojuegos y medios de terror. Estudió diseño gráfico por 3-4 años y es un artista autodidacta desde su adolescencia. El juego que lo envió a perseguir el sueño de convertirse en un artista conceptual para videojuegos es Journey, y los que lo impulsaron son Spiritfarer, la saga Uncharted y la trilogía de Dark Souls, especialmente su segunda instalación. Sus inspiraciones actuales son DnD, Vocaloid y Bleach. ________________________ Arián is an illustrator from northern Argentina that takes inspiration from videogames and horror media. He studied graphic design for 3-4 years and has been a self taught artist since his teenage years. The piece of media that sent him chasing the dream of becoming a concept artist for videogames is Journey, and the ones that pushed it further are Spiritfarer, the Uncharted saga and Dark Souls trilogy, especially the 2nd installment. His main current inspirations are DnD, Vocaloid and Bleach. Contacts and relevant links / Contactos y links relevantes: Email: [email protected] Instagram: @arian.v.art Relevant links: linktr.ee/azover Patreon: patreon.com/Azover

Image ID for writers under the cut / ID de impagenes para escritores debajo del corte

@fatheriimaginedyoutaller (En discord y Tumblr) They/he - Elle/él

ESPAÑOL:

Pueblo Crepúsculo Resumen: Un hombre afroamericano se encuentra varado en las sienas cordobesas cuando su auto le falla. Allí el es plagado por la visión fantasmagorica de su abuelo, quien fue asesinado por el Ku Klux Klan.

Devin no creía en las maldiciones, era un muchacho de ciencia, de las sociales, pero de la ciencia al final del día. Pero si, uno "podría" decir que todo había empezado con su abuelo. Si decidía darle crédito al poder de las coincidencias. A Devin JI lo habían colgado de un árbol miembros del Klan, y si, era porque se le había roto el auto en el pueblo equivocado. Pero si creía en el miedo. Y no en cualquier miedo. Pero ese que viene de tus antepasados, que parece transmitirse por una mera gota de sangre en el mar que son los seres humanos. Como el temor a nadar en una pileta profunda, no por el agua en sí. Si no porque alguien podría venir y verter ácido en ella en cualquier momento."

Caballito de Mar Resumen: Un hombre transgénero reflexiona sobre unas noticias inesperadas

"Cuando por fin te hayan atendido primero les preguntaras cómo estuvieron sus respectivos días, porque sí te quedó alguna de las cosas con las que te criaron seguro son esos modales católicos. Luna te hablara de su madre, Sam de su padre. Trataras de contener tu entusiasmo mientras aprendes de las experiencias de tus novias. Esas cosas únicas de ellas. Sus relaciones, sus manías, sus sueños … "

Diccionario Resumen: Un hombre hace dedo hasta su casa luego de la marcha por la vuelta de Perón

"Má siempre decía que había dos mundos, el de Uno y el del Otro. Nunca supe que quería decir hasta que se me rompieron la suelas de los zapatos entre Avenida Rivadavia y Callao. La mayoría de la gente ese día estaba en El del Otro, donde lo importante era el movimiento y que no había ningún sacrificio demasiado grande; mientras yo estaba en el Mio, donde lo único que me preocupaba era mi Tana que estaba en casa sola con el pibe. Cuando llegué a Balvanera ya se me había partido el alma en dos. Me paré en una esquina y extendí mi brazo con el pulgar arriba. No sabía para qué .La ciudad estaba vacía y no inspiraba confianza mi cara de indio. El simpático siempre fue Carlitas, mi medio hermano. Él sí parecía recién bajado de la parte de arriba del barco."

La Luna Resumen: Un cacique de Puerto Iguazú, desprotica contra la luna por haberse llevado a su hijo.

"Hola ¿Cómo estás.? Perdóname que te deje este recado por medio del dueño del almacén. Vos sabes que nuncafuí muy bueno con lo emocional, los sentimientos _ Soy el hijo de mi padre en ese sentido. Cuando ya hayamos llegado a la luna, será el momento de la verdad, sabremos por fin si un lobizón sobrevive allí en el espacio. Vos nunca entendiste porque me gustaba tanto la luna. Era una obsesión infantil, capaz todavía lo sea. La verdad es que: Siento que tengo un propósito, de devolverle algo a la humanidad, porque la amo demasiado. La amo con sus defectos, sus manías, y si, con sus personas.

ENGLISH:

Twilight Town

Summary: A man finds himself stranded in the Cordovan siennas when his car breaks down. There he is plagued by the ghostly vision of his grandfather, who was murdered by the Ku Klux Klan.

Devin did not believe in curses. He was a man of science, the social kind, but science at the end of the day. But yes, one "could" say it had all started with his grandfather. If he decided to give credence to the power of coincidences. Devin II had been hung from a tree by Klan members, and yes, he was Klan members, and yes, it was because his car had broken down in the wrong town. in the wrong town. But he did believe in fear. And not just any fear. But the kind that comes from your ancestors, that seems to be passed down through a mere drop of blood in the sea that is human beings. human beings . Like the fear of swimming in a deep pool, not because of the water itself. But because someone might come and pour acid into it at any moment."

Seahorse

Summary: A transgender man reflects on some unexpected news.

"When they've finally taken care of you first you'll ask them how their respective days were, because if you have any of the things left that they raised you with I'm sure it's those Catholic manners. Luna will tell you about her mother, Sam about his father. You'll try to contain your enthusiasm as you learn about your girlfriends' experiences. Those unique things about them. Their relationships, their quirks, their dreams…"

Dictionary

Summary: A man hitchhikes home after the march for Perón's return.

"Má always said there were two worlds, that of One and that of the Other. I never knew what he meant until the soles of my shoes broke between Avenida Rivadavia and Callao. Most people that day were in El del Otro, where the important thing was the movement and that there was no sacrifice too big; while I was in El Mio, where the only thing I was worried about was my Tana who was at home alone with the kid. When I arrived at Balvanera, my soul was already broken in two. I stopped at a corner and extended my arm with my thumb up. I didn't know why, the city was empty and my Indian face didn't inspire confidence. The nice one was always Carlitos, my half-brother. He did look like he just got off the top part of the boat."

The Moon

Summary: A cacique of Puerto Iguazú, reproaches the moon for having taken his son.

"Hello, how are you? Forgive me for leaving you this message through the owner of the store. You know I was never very good with emotions, feelings _ I am my father's son in that sense. When we have reached the moon, it will be the moment of truth, we will finally know if a werewolf survives out there in space. You never understood why I liked the moon so much. It was a childish obsession, maybe it still is. The truth is: I feel I have a purpose, to give something back to humanity, because I love it too much. I love it with its flaws, its quirks, and yes, with its people.

@mearpsdyke She/her - Ella

ESPAÑOL:

-La canción del mar

Le sostiene la mirada, preguntándose por las ciaturas que alberga, por los naufragios y cadáveres que reposan en el fondo de sus aguas. Se pregunta si, tal vez, el mar tiene consciencia y los humanos no lo saben, si la melodía de las olas que se estrellan contra las rocas son en realidad palabras que usa para llamar su nombre, diciéndole que se adentre en sus aguas, prometiendo unas rocas cómodas para que su cadáver pueda reposar. Los peces se remueven, peleando por una libertad que no llegará. Pronto se quedarán sin oxígeno y morirán lenta y dolorosamente. A Kika a veces le gusta jugar a que es un Dios y los peces son su creación agonizante, quienes esperan el dulce alivio de la muerte. Ve cómo la vida abandona sus ojos y dice una oración antes de guiar el cuchillo por sus entrañas.

-Cliffs Edge

Cuando la luna está llena y es la hora donde las penas y arrepentimientos te sofocan, tiene el impulso de tomar su auto, manejar hasta la casa de Gina y pedirle que se den una segunda oportunidad, que hará bien las cosas esta vez. Pero entonces recuerda el anillo que Gina porta en su dedo anular en cada partido, y se obliga a volver al presente y dejar el pasado en el pasado. Le parece cruel que su familia la quiera más que al nuevo prometido de Gina, que aún la inviten a la casa donde tienen fotos de las dos jugando partidos juntas, en reuniones familiares, en fiestas y hasta en Navidad. Nunca encuentra el coraje para decirles que se olviden de ella para poder pasar página; la casa Zelarayán es su casa lejos de su verdadero hogar, allá en Jujuy.

-Fragmentario

Buscas en el recoveco más profundo de tu alma, alguna pasión que salve tu gris existencia, pero solo encuentras eco y telarañas sin moscas. Y cuando entruentras algos a lo que aferrarte, no es lo suficientemente serio para el resto, ¿y realmente importan los insultos ya? ¿Qué le hace una cicatriz más al guerrero, un clavo más a Jesús en la cruz, otro volcán a Pompeya? Así que te envuelves en tu capa más roja, pelas los dientes cual animal acorralado y hieres a todo lo que oza cruzarte.

-La tierra del nunca

Persigo un atardecer que no existe, espero un día que nunca fue y escucho palabras que nunca pronunciarás en cada mirada tuya. Vivo el mismo día todos los días esperando que alguien se apiade, a que Te apiades, y las palabras salgan como balas. Porque es más piadoso morir por obra y mano tuya a que la incertidumbre me consuma.

ENGLISH:

-The Sea’s Song

She holds its gaze, wondering about the creatures it houses, about the shipwrecks and corpses that rest at the bottom of its waters. She wonders if, perhaps, the sea has consciousness and humans don't know it, if the melody of the waves crashing against the rocks are actually the words it uses to call her name, telling her to enter its waters, promising some comfortable rocks so that her corpse can rest. The fish stir, fighting for a freedom that won’t come. They will soon run out of oxygen and die slowly and painfully. Kika sometimes likes to pretend that she’s a God and the fish are her dying creation, waiting for the sweet relief of death. She watches the life leave their eyes and says a prayer before guiding the knife into their insides.

-Cliffs Edge

When the moon is full and it’s the time when sorrows and regrets suffocate you, Nerea has the impulse to take her car, drive to Gina's house and ask her to give each other a second chance, promising to do things right this time. But then she remembers the ring Gina wears on her ring finger to every game, and forces herself to return to the present and leave the past in the past. She finds it cruel that Gina’s family loves her more than Gina's new fiancé, that they still invite her to their house where they have photos of the two of them playing games together, at family gatherings, at parties and even Christmas. She never finds the courage to tell them to forget about her so she can move on from her; the Zelarayán household is her house far from her real home, back in Jujuy.

-Fragmented

You search in the deepest corners of your soul for some passion that saves your gray existence, but you only find echo and cobwebs without flies. And when you find something to hold on to, it's not serious enough for the rest, and do insults really matter anymore? What does one more scar do to a warrior? One more nail to Jesus on the cross? another volcano to Pompeii? So you wrap yourself in your reddest cloak, you bare your teeth like a cornered animal and you hurt everyone who dares to cross you.

-The land of Never Ever

I chase a sunset that doesn’t exist, I wait for a day that never was and I hear words that you’ll never say in every look of yours. I live the same day every day waiting for someone to have mercy, wait on you to take pity, and let the words come out like bullets. Because it is more pious to die by your work and hand before uncertainty consumes me.

#creatives argentines #masterpost #masterpost argento #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writeblr #artblr #argentina #argie tag #argie tumblr #argieblr #argie posting #artistas argentines #escritores argentines #commissions open #open com #latam #latam artists #latam writers #art commisions #art commissions open #writing commissions open #writer community #writing commissions #art comms open #writing comms open #animation commissions #animation commissions open #animation comms open

[redrobinhoodrat]

Danny looked around at the beings in front of him. He’d brought his closest allies as well as some trusted friends together for his supposed “council”. He had handpicked these few along with his friends to make sure he had the best guidance in ruling the zone. He needed help now more than ever. Making sure not to look too terrified he met each set of eyes as he glanced around what was practically his round table– no! His justice league. He kept the smirk off his face as he thought of frostbite with Superman’s red underwear getup on.

“Thanks for coming, you guys. Now I’m not going to beat around the bush. What I’m about to talk to you about is going to make you really upset, but!” Danny said nervously. He held up his hands as he gestured for Pandora to wait when her mouth opened to ask a question. ”I just need you to listen first.”

He avoided Clockwork’s gaze as he stood up from his seat. The ancient being was directly across from him so he could see the hint of worry in his expression. The ghost hadn’t been too happy when Danny had requested( i.e. ordered) him to quit monitoring his life so closely. Could you really blame him though?! Who wanted what was basically their grandfather/mentor/local time god watching every aspect of their life? Not him, no sirree. That’s what Jazz was for. It was kind of nice to be worried about though...not that he’d admit it.

He winced at the thought of Clockwork’s overprotective streak. It also made what he was about to say something of a bombshell about to be dropped. He just knew that everyone was going to overreact.

“So,” He fiddled with his hands as he tried to figure out what to say. “Y’all know how I was talking about the GIW makin’ some deals with Mom and Dad and getting better at the whole “Ghost Hunting” schtick?”

He waited to get some type of nod or confirmation from everyone in the room.

“Well, I got caught.” He blurted it out in a rush. He kept his head down as he watched everyone process what he had said, he scratched at the back of his head awkwardly as he thought about what happened. “And-uhh, what they did wasn’t so good.”

He looked up to gauge their reactions. Nocturn didn’t seem phased at all, ever calm as he always was in the zone. Beside him, Frostbite was sitting with his arms crossed, probably the most out of the loop due to how busy he’s been lately, he didn’t seem too worried but he also didn’t seem happy about the development if his tapping claws was any tell. Pandora was on Danny’s right side and most likely in the same boat. He could tell she was bothered by the prospect that he’d been captured and nobody had known though. She was probably the most overprotective outside of Clockwork. Wulf was to his left, looking at him with sad puppy-dog eyes, all too familiar with the feeling of being captured. To Wulf’s left, Dorathea was scanning him over, looking for injuries most likely. Too bad he’d hid everything with the express purpose of making the whole incident look less bad than what it actually was. No sense in exaggerating when it sounded bad no matter how you put it. Beside Dorathea, Ghostwriter’s eyes were wide as he transcribed everything about the meeting, his fingers slowing as he registered what Danny had said. He probably knew just how evil humans could be from his books. Danny made sure not to meet his eyes as Ghostwriter looked up. He didn’t want to see the worry that was easily read on the ghost’s expressive face. He figured everyone’s reactions were pretty predictable based on their knowledge of humans.

Finally, he looked over to meet Clockwork’s knowing gaze. He winced as he saw the red eyes flare briefly as Clockwork clenched his hands into fists. He watched the hands on the clock-staff start spinning rapidly and could only hope they didn’t actually do anything– ancients forbid just letting him know he was caught causes time to collapse or something.

He sighed as he prepared to explain what happened, hopefully in some way that didn’t lead to an all out war.

~

“-you know, I’m a human, or at least I was before I died and stuff. I never thought I’d be the one to have to declare war on Earth.”

“Then why even do it?” Batman growled.

He was standing towards the front of the group, though Superman had managed to edge in front of him just a little. From the way the Entity in front of them was floating regally he couldn’t get a good enough read on him to call the bluff and take the main front from Superman. Never let it be said that he hadn’t learnt to rely on his allies.

He was grateful his cowl hid his eyes as he subtly watched the rest of the league around him. Everyone was at attention, either looking at him or the stranger in the room.

The being in front of them had just appeared. Not even bothering with some type of warning before a glowing green portal had opened up in the Watchtower’s meeting room. As the main league members had gotten into battle formation a figure had stepped out, almost melting out of it as the– slime? matter?–clung to them when they exited, ducking through the circle as it closed behind them. The JL were all surprised to see the figure looked like a boy when they stood up fully. Their attire and coloring made it clear they weren’t from earth though. The snow white hair contrasted sharply against the mint-green tinted skin the figure had. Their hair seemed to be hazy, almost flaming but not quite. They had on a partial set of armor, made more for movement than all out protection. The matte black metal was inlaid with specks of silver,emulating stars in the night sky. It was layered over what looked like a futuristic hazmat suit.

Now that he’d had the thought Batman would say the whole thing was futuristic. Silver and black with white accents here and there. The shoulder pauldrons had a cloak hung from them, a pitch black thing that seemed to suck in the light around it and make the being stand out even more in sharp contrast to it. A cylindrical container hung at his side and in his hands was a bo-staff that looked just as futuristic as his suit. Neon green accents twisted around the silver staff from top to bottom. With eyes that glowed the same green as the portal the figure was impressive at first glance, then you looked a little longer–took a second look and realized they looked younger than most of the proteges. Younger than Damian and Jon even.

So forgive Batman for not taking him as seriously as he probably should have. He wasn’t outright dismissing him as a threat, he had several kids that got the best of him almost every day so he knew a thing or two about overpowered kids, but he didn’t believe the being was malicious. More on the nervous side in all honesty, maybe looking for help?

Then the kid had looked Superman in the eyes and said that unless certain demands were met his subjects would march on Earth and eradicate everything they deem to be a threat. He had then rambled on about useless information until Batman had cut him off. His attention snapped back from analyzing the encounter so far as the kid finally seemed ready to answer. Now that he looked closer he could tell the regal act was just that– an act put on to intimidate them.

“My realm is made up of beings from all over the universe, the dead and the neverborn, deities that have passed and lingered, beings that crave rest or resolution. I will not hold any one race, society, or planet in a higher regard simply because of my bias.” Danny said, keeping his voice as level as he could. He needed these heroes to listen to him, damnit! He couldn’t let his nerves get the best of him here. “I may be emperor of the Realms but I have a council that I hold in high regard. We have met and the judgment has been made. Should the governments of Earth not meet our demands, we will take action.”

Batman watched as the league seemed to swell before him, members reacting to the hidden threat but not willing to speak up. They knew better than to antagonize unknowns. He leaned around Superman who had continued to slowly creep more in front of him. The young boy seemed to be trying not to fidget as he held himself up in an obviously practiced position. Slightly elevated with his hands on his hips and head tilted up, forcing himself to meet the eyes of the adults across from him. Batman watched the kid swallow nervously and felt his resolve to hold his judgment give a little. Just as he was about to speak he saw Constantine move forward a bit. Just enough to get attention but not enough to get near the boy. He lowered his calculation of this getting resolved peacefully from the high seventies down to the low fifties. He tried not to sigh, of all the days for Constantine to have been in the meeting, why today?

“Realms? When you mean realms are we talking like, a different dimension or like, a different world?” He asked, his tone not leaving any doubt as to which was worse. Constantine was practically chewing his unlit cigarette as he gazed ahead, arms crossed and shoulders tense. “Cause that affects whether I need to be here or not. Also, when you said you were human, what did you mean? Did you sell your soul or something? You’re looking a little demonic there mate, and I can’t think of anything that would cause a transformation that big unless you messed with a big bad that shouldn’t have been messed with.”

Batman watched as the kid’s face scrunched up, a fairly normal response from a kid that’d been insulted but on this one’s face it certainly did look a little…demonish. Then again, people probably think his kids are demons too, especially the current Robin who has affectionately been called stabby. He tried not to shake his head as he turned his thoughts back to the boy, he needed to stop relating him back to his kids if he wanted to be objective. He could see why the JLD member was worried though, if the kid resembled something as horrifying as a baby demon.

“Well at least my soul doesn’t look like a paper mache project, dipshit.” Danny huffed. Crossing his arms as he settled himself down on the floor. The trenchcoat guy jerked like he’d slapped him, probably not expecting him to see that tattered old soul he had. Honestly he’d feel sorry for the guy in a different situation but he was tired of adults not fucking listening. People were going to get hurt if they didn’t listen. He blew out a breath to calm down, feeling the familiar burn of anxiety in his chest.

“Listen, I’ll be straight with you guys.” He said, giving up any pretense of formality. “Some type of government funded organization is capturing and experimenting on citizens of both our realms. In fact, I can pick out a couple of you guys that they’d probably love to get their hands on!” He started pacing as he looked at the group of superheroes. He felt his emotions getting the best of him as he took in the wary gazes that were settled on him. Not to mention the condescending gaze of the only normal looking human in the room. He didn’t even know that one! Isn’t the justice league all famous heroes?

“I’m sick of adults not listening to me! I’ve been trying to do this all by myself and I can’t! I just can’t!” He shouted, and grabbed his hair out of frustration as he finally stopped and faced them again. “I was one of them. They caught me and I barely got out. They’re too dangerous for me to face alone anymore and their weapons are designed to fight my kind, my people specifically. If I give them permission to fight back then the world won’t make it. Having my people fight is like lighting a fire, they’re dangerous and uncontrolled, when they start they’re not going to be stopped.” He paused to think of what releasing the denizens of the Ghost Zone on earth could accomplish.

An infinite number of ghosts of an infinite number of species with an infinite number of powers.

More numbers added to the ranks as more lives were lost.

An army that never ended.

He gulped.

“We’d win but life on Earth would be FUBARed, literally, and I don’t want that. My family still lives here, my friends. No one will have a chance.” He looked straight into the first pair of eyes he could –Batman– and hoped that the truth was plain on his face. “You guys are my only hope. Please.”

~

Notes: So I lost a lot of interest in this draft and probably won’t continue it. If anybody wants to feel free! If you want the tiny ideas that were thought up with it just shoot me a message.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #batfam #batman #dp x dc #justice league

[ramp-it-up]

The Playlist: F*cking Bucky

Summary: Bucky’s seduction powers are on 100. Can you continue to resist him, or will you give in?

Pairing: Dark CEO! Bucky Barnes x Journalist! Reader

Word count: more than 3K

Warnings: As always, 18+ ONLY, SMUT. Minors DNI. Steve, Sam and Natasha, pining playlists, jealousy, flirting, voyeurism, eavesdropping, cybersex, dirty talk, unknown? masturbation for an audience, running for pleasure, degradation kink, definite Dom/sub elements, orgasm denial, edging, narrated masturbation, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), pulling out, after care, pining, manipulation, mention of loss, surveillance, Dark Bucky.

A/N: I meant to put this out on the weekend, but instead I went outside, lol. This is part of the Playlist Series. Read the previous part, Chill, Buck. @ysmmsy and @blackwidownat2814 are my exquisite muses who created the playlists, with more to come. 😉 Thanks you both! 🥰 please leave feedback, like and reblog. It helps to inspire me. 😊

The playlist is real and is linked here!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Hell no, Max.”

Your agent, Maxine Shaw, just offered you a ridiculous amount of money for a writing gig. It was right up your alley as you had background knowledge on the subject.

The only problem was that it involved working very closely with James Buchanan Barnes.

“First of all, one month? That's an impossible timeline. Second, Barnes is an asshole.”

That wasn’t exactly true, he was just annoying, but you felt hyperbole was appropriate for this situation.

Max leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re going to turn down this amount of money for a cake job? I’m told he already has a manuscript, you’d basically be an editor and gap filler.” 

Max stared at you, incredulous. 

“This isn’t ghostwriting, you would get a legitimate byline. A story about Barnes is sure to be a bestseller.”

Then she leaned forward and really scrutinized you.

“Romanoff said you might not be up to it. I laughed in her face. Was she right?”

You opened and then closed your mouth, face heating up. Telling you that you couldn’t accomplish something was a sure fire way to get you to do that something.

But surely Natasha didn’t know that.

You raised your chin.

“Send me the info.”

Bucky walked into the room at 8:30 am, exactly the same time he did everyday, when he was confident that he would be the first to arrive. Sam and Steve usually didn’t arrive until 9. He liked his quiet time.

This morning, however, he was greeted with laughter in the room and Natasha waiting for him as the elevator opened.

“Morning, Boss.”

She handed Bucky some files and watched as he stared at the scene in front of him: you sandwiched between Sam and Steve on the couch.

“Well, hello, Buck! I see you finally made it in this morning.”

Steve stood up first, then Sam who grinned at Bucky, who only had eyes for you.

Bucky raised his eyebrow as he came toward you, then stopped short of being able to reach out and touch.

He took you in as he approached. You were wearing a wrap dress that showcased your figure nicely. Almost too nicely. You looked amazing. He knew his friends and he knew they had already checked you out. Possessiveness coursed through Bucky’s body as he looked down at you.

That little jaw clench and the glare in Bucky’s eye did things to you. You felt as if you were in trouble. 

And why did that make you wet? 

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Bucky addressed you as you looked up at him, staring at him with those damn doe eyes. You looked a little scared. It made him want to pull you into the bathroom and…He cleared his throat.

“Ms. YLN wanted to begin her work with you by interviewing your two best friends who also happen to be the COO and the CFO of CapTech. We were just about to start breakfast.”

Bucky scanned the room to see the dining table set up with quite the spread.

“Begin her work?” 

Although he was responding to Nat’s statement, he was looking straight at you.

“I’m beginning my work on the memoir. Background information.”

Bucky looked confused for a moment, then he turned to Natasha. 

“Ah, the memoir. I didn't realize we’d decided on the writer for that.”

Natasha was nonplussed. She shrugged.

“Well, YN did such a fantastic job on the profile that I thought she deserved first shot at this.”

Bucky looked annoyed, but then looked back at you.

“Of course. I hope you didn’t feel pressured.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t seem to want you to do this. Well, fuck him. You drew yourself up to your full height, which in heels was four inches shorter than him.

“The contracts are signed, Mr. Barnes. But if you want to break them…”

“I’m not sure we can afford that,” interjected Sam, ever the CFO. “That’s not a good financial plan.” 

Then he turned to you, smile blinding. You couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

“I guess you’re right, Mr. Wilson. Because I would hold you to the termination fee.”

Bucky scowled as your tone changed to playful. Steve was already at the table pulling out your chair.

“Okay. Sam has been monopolizing your time all morning, let’s talk about what it takes to operate this company day to day…”

You chuckled and shook your head as you sat down, Sam and Steve flanking you at the table. Bucky simmered as you held court with his buddies. He watched and listened to the conversation through narrowed eyes.

“…we got into quite a few scraps when we were kids in Brooklyn, isn’t that right , Buck?”

“That’s right.” 

Bucky sipped his coffee and then responded.  

“Did Steve tell you that he weighed 90 pounds when we graduated high school?”

“Low blow…” you heard Sam say as he coughed.

You glared at Bucky, then turned to appraise Steve.

“Well, looks like he filled out nicely.” 

You put your hand on Steve’s arm and he flexed for you. You didn’t have to pretend to be impressed at the muscles underneath his suit coat.

Bucky felt both like an asshole for the jab at Steve, and a tongue tied fool, because he couldn’t find anything civil to say when his buddies were blatantly flirting with you. And when you were flirting back.

Another half hour of conversation with Sam and Steve gained you some information for the direction you wanted to steer the memoir.  The only problem was, you hadn’t read what Bucky had written. When Sam and Steve and Nat excused themselves for their 10 o’clock meeting, Bucky walked you to the door.

“I know that you don’t want me to take this job, but I have some good ideas if you let me read your manuscript….”

Bucky held up his hand.

“Wait. You know what now?”

You drew yourself up to your full height.

“Well, I…”  

You stopped for a moment and looked him in the eyes. 

“I know you said you wouldn’t ask me for anything ever again. And I know that Ms. Romanoff presented this to my agent, so I won’t charge you the termination fee..”

Bucky interrupted you again.

“I was referring to asking you anything… personal.” 

Bucky’s eyes told the story. He’d just accepted your curve. So why were you disappointed?

“You are a very talented writer. Of course I want you to do this.” 

Bucky looked down at the floor and your cute toes in your open toed heels. 

When he looked back up at you, the little boy was back.

“I just felt… 

Bucky paused and you felt as if you’d tripped and fallen into the pools of his eyes.

“Natasha didn’t let me know she had asked you so soon…”

“Oh…”

After you said it, you realized that you had been holding your breath. You took in air and watched his mouth quirk up on one side. 

“I see. You wanted to be in control of the situation.”

Bucky’s look changed; sky blue eyes turned grey.

“I do like being in control.”

All of a sudden, you couldn’t breathe again.

Maybe you liked him being in control too, the way your body was responding. Your mouth opened wider and your eyes dilated.

Bucky noticed your reaction but just took note, raised his eyebrow, and barreled ahead. You’d just given him the key to unlock the puzzle of you. His mind whirred with a plan.

“I have a home office in my brownstone. I work on my story there. Sam and Steve are… distracting.”

Sam who? Steve what? There was no other man on the earth right now.

Bucky was thinking there was no other woman but you. He cleared his throat.

“The only working copy of my manuscript is on my encrypted computer there, along with the only hard copies. We will work there.”

You hesitated before answering, and Bucky filled the void.

“I’ll send you the address and also the code to the door.”

Bucky leaned toward you and you thought he was going to kiss you, but he swerved and pressed the down button on the elevator.

This man.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon? I’ll take a late lunch and go home early. 3pm or 4pm?” 

Bucky looked at you intently as you struggled to think. He was so cute.

“3 pm it is,” He chuckled, replying only when you didn't answer.

You stepped backward into the elevator when you heard the door open.

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky smirked as the doors closed. He turned to face Sam and Steve and the barrage that he knew was coming.

That afternoon, you carefully read the code that Bucky texted you when you arrived at his Brownstone. It was not very far at all from your apartment. How convenient, you thought. You admired the nice dark brick facade and the surrounding neighborhood. Very nice.

You entered the code on the door and pushed the heavy oak door open.

Inside, Bucky’s place was immaculate. From the piano, to the large windows, to the high ceilings and natural wood, you could tell that only the finest materials had been used. You smelled fresh paint, but also a fresh clean linen scent. 

You looked around the place and did not see a trace of Bucky’s former life except for a picture of him and Sam and Steve when they were younger.

You heard what you thought was a groan from the other room. You stopped moving and listened for it again. When you heard it, you moved toward the sound, hoping that no one was hurt.

“You are killing me, Doll.”

It was Bucky’s voice, and you thought you heard a smile in it. You stopped in the hallway and listened further.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. I wanna see all of you. You wanna do that for me? Show me allll of you?”

You listened and quickly surmised that Bucky was talking to someone who wasn’t in the room. And he was doing more than talking.

Your cheeks heated and you felt some kind of way, but then you thought, this was his house, he was a man, and he had needs. And you’d rejected him. You couldn’t be mad. Could you?

Besides, you were the one in the wrong by eavesdropping. You tried to quietly go back out to the entryway.

“Stop! Don’t move.”

You froze, thinking you’d been caught.

“I need to see that pussy weep for me. Can you show me how I make you feel Doll? I can tell that you want me from the look on that pretty little face. Show me what is mine. I’ll show you what is yours.

You couldn’t help but peek around the corner, and had to cover your mouth in shock. Bucky was stroking himself! 

You pressed yourself up against the wall and closed your eyes, mortified. But then what you saw registered in your brain.

Bucky Barnes was hung like a horse.

You clenched your thighs together and bit your lip. Surely, you were mistaken. You had to look again.

This time, you stayed long enough to verify what you saw. Bucky’s large hand was wrapped around a beautiful specimen of a cock. He had earbuds in and was staring at a laptop screen, showing whomever he was talking to what he was working with. 

That lucky bitch.

“You want this dick?”

You peered around the corner and saw Bucky holding his cock up and pointing it at the computer. You could help but stare, because even across the room, you could tell it was huge, uncut, tan and veiny, the shiny head appearing and reappearing as he slowly jacked it.

‘I want it bad,’ you thought, and licked your lips. Then you bit your bottom lip, surprised at yourself.

“Ahhhh, shitt! I love when you do that. Touch yourself for me, please Doll?”

You straightened up again, heart beating a mile a minute. Why did you have the urge to do what he was commanding? You closed your eyes and willed your hands to stay at your sides.

“Be a good girl. Don't be a bad one. You know what happens to bad girls when I get my hands on them.”

You stood still and closed your eyes, trying to decide if you wanted to be a good girl or a bad one. You decided to be a professional woman. You started to tiptoe back down the hall.

“You better not run. Come back here. Don’t run from this dick…”

You heard Bucky murmuring to his mystery person as you slinked away. You stopped in the vestibule, shook. You heard your heart pounding in your ears and decided to just leave and walk home.

You reached your apartment in no time.

You decided to text Bucky about your appointment. You still had work to do so you decided to put what you witnessed out of your mind.

He didn’t answer, probably because he was in the shower washing cum off of his…

You had to stop. 

You decided to go for a run to clear your head.

Your pace was good. You checked your time as you rounded the curve for the second kilometer of your run. Someone swerved past you. You looked up at that voice.

“Hey, you!”

You looked back, stunned to see Bucky running, looking amazing in those shorts and a muscle shirt. Damn.

You averted your eyes from his crotch to look at him, but you kept going. He circled back to run beside you.

You were salty. He could run, but he didn’t have time to meet with you? 

“‘Lo. What are you up to?”

The question seemed straightforward enough. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm to be found. Yet you still sideyed him.

“You good?”

Bucky sounded worried when you didn’t respond.

That voice. The connotation that phrase brought up. Yes, you were a good girl, Mr. Barnes, Sir.

You shook your head, but said, “Sure, just wondering what happened to our meeting this afternoon.”

Bucky stopped and you looked back again, but then he caught up with you.

“That wasn’t… today, was it?”

“Yeeeessss?”

Bucky looked confused. 

“I clearly remember setting our meeting up for 4 pm tomorrow afternoon…”

He looked so cute and earnest.

“No, we set it up for 3 pm today….”

At this point, you both stopped and were staring at each other. To be honest, you had been so flustered when setting up the appointment and then with the events of this afternoon, you really didn’t know what was up.

The tension between you was palpable as you stared into Bucky’s baby blues.

Bucky furrowed his brow and started to speak a couple of times. Then, you both burst out laughing.

“You know, I was kind of distracted this morning, so, I really don’t remember clearly.”

Bucky’s chest was heaving and his tongue snaked out to wet his lips. You were in his orbit, attracted to him in the worst way, but you started jogging again. That long distance chick must have Bucky wide open.

“She must be hot…”

Real subtle, y/n, you thought. 

“What? Who?” 

The surprise in Bucky’s voice was evident. You stopped again.

“I mean, must be something, or someone powerful to distract that mind of yours.”

You looked up into Bucky’s eyes, not caring if the jealousy was showing. He beamed down at you and you felt like the center of the world. But he had someone else. Right?

“Yeah, only someone powerful could distract me like that.” 

Bucky sucked his bottom lip and released it slowly while surveying your body in your tight running shorts and tank top. You felt like a bad girl. Then, Bucky resumed jogging.

“I mean, as CEO of a tech company, you probably meet women all over the world. Could be hard to navigate long distance relationships.”

You were not even trying to hide your nosiness. Bucky chuckled.

“It is hard. That’s why I don’t do long distance.”

Your surprise made you almost stumble.

“I haven’t had a real relationship since…”

Bucky glanced at you.

“Well, in a good while.”

“Hmmmmm. But you have needs. Right?”

Bucky stopped and stood toe to toe with you, so close.

“Yes, I have needs.”

He looked right through you.

“Don’t you?”

Then he took off running again.

It took you a minute to digest what he was saying, and when you got it, you slowed down. Bucky ran back to you and you both stopped again.

“So are we doing this?”

You looked up at him and stepped closer.

“I mean, you gotta run, I gotta run. Are we gonna do this? Can you keep up with me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky’s smile dropped, and his eyes became stormy again.

“I’m pretty fast now.”

“I bet. Don’t make me have to chase you, little girl.”

Your toes curled in your shoes. Bucky Barnes could get it. It was a done deal. You were exhausted of running from him, but this time he turned and ran, and you ran after him.

It was quite the workout, and Bucky most certainly paced with you, but your time was getting markedly better on the route through Bridge Park. When you ended up at the door to your apartment building, you turned to face Bucky, panting. 

“Wanna invite me up?”

You wanted nothing more. But you couldn’t help your reflex.

“No.”

“Yeah. Right. I get it. Had to ask.”

“Even though you said you wouldn’t.”

He smirked down at you. He’d been growing his hair out a little and a lock was flopping forward. You almost reached up to brush it out of his eyes, but you knew that if you touched him, even his hair, it would be game over.

Bucky’s hands were at his sides, clenched in fists to keep from touching you. He wanted to lean down to kiss you, but he wanted you to make the first move.

“Why do you want to come up?”

“For a drink…” Bucky licked his lips. “… of water.”

You gulped, your own throat parched with desire. Your eyes shined his body, to the glistening torso that was visible through the shirt to those short shorts.

“Oh.”

Now you felt rude as fuck.

“I didn’t hydrate properly…” It seemed that Bucky was getting closer, “… before the run.” 

Now he was looking over your head to try and control the inevitable. You wondered if he got off on his call earlier. Did he have any left over for you? You looked down and then toward the river when you swore you saw a bulge in Bucky’s shorts.

Somehow, you were closer to him, if you looked up, and he bent down, your lips would touch.

You turned your head and spoke to the car parked to his right.

“So you’re saying you’re…thirsty…”

“Yes…”

Bucky’s voice was gravelly and fucking sexy.

“I can bring a bottle down…”

Bucky shook his head and looked down the street.

“Nah, by the time you go up and come back down, I can get home…”

You looked toward Bucky’s house.

“Oh…”

You felt like an idiot. For a writer, you couldn’t find any other words than ‘oh.’

“Then come…come on up.”

You had to concentrate not to stutter.

“Thank you! Such a good one.”

You could hear Bucky’s smile behind you and you could practically feel his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs.

When you reached your apartment and entered,  Bucky looked around and then went to the window as you went into your tiny kitchen to get him a water bottle.

He turned around and looked at you piercingly as you brought it to him. You’d kicked off your running shoes when you entered the door and that made him that much taller when you were in front of him.

Bucky grabbed the bottle. Your fingers touched yet you didn’t pull them back. As you looked into his eyes, you noticed something.

“I just realized, you’re not wearing your glasses.”

He smirked at you.

“Contacts. Not a good look to have fogged up glasses when your face is getting wet…”

Your mouth opened slightly.

“...While you’re running.” 

Bucy took a sip of water, then a lager gulp, emptying the glass.

“Thank you. It was so good of you…” He looked down at you. “I feel like thanking you in some way…”

He looked around the room and then back at you. You felt guilty as hell.

“Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it.”

He cocked his head at you.

“Tell me why you think that.”

“Because…” 

You went on to tell him what happened earlier that afternoon. His face was inscrutable as he registered the information.

“Sooo… you eavesdropped on a private conversation. A very private conversation. And then snuck back out of my home without saying anything.”

“Y-yes.”

Why did you feel as if you were in danger as Bucky moved closer to you?

“Is that why you were asking about my needs earlier?”

You didn’t, you couldn’t answer.

“Is it because you liked what you saw?”

He was circling you now, like a predator, and you were frozen to the spot. When he got behind you he raised his voice, just a little. 

“Answer me. ”

You shivered at his smooth, dangerous tone.

“I- I-yes- no- I don’t know….”

He came back around in front of you.

“Well, I can alleviate some speculation. As I said, I don’t do long distance relationships, but I can pay for what I need. And that’s nobody’s business because no one has any claim on me. Especially you. Because you said you didn’t want it. Didn’t you?”

You just stared but he gave you that look and you replied.

“I said that. Yes.”

“Have you changed your mind? What do you want, y/n?”

“I want…” 

You looked down at the floor, gathering your strength. Then back up at Bucky. 

“I want you.”

“Oh. You got aroused by what you saw, and now you want me to give you…satisfaction?…” 

You nodded, biting your lip. Now was not the time for games the way your panties were drenched.

“I feel like a little bit of a whore. And I need to be punished. Immediately.”

Your jaw dropped at what you just said.

Bucky grinned.

“Oh really. That critical? Well let’s see what we can do…”

He finally touched you, grabbing your waist and pulling you toward him for a kiss. It was everything, passionate, with a promise.

“Where is your bed?

You smiled up at him, took his hand, and led him to your bedroom.

Bucky kissed you senseless as soon as you entered the room. You took off your tank and sports bra and Bucky discarded his muscle shirt. Your eyes watered at his bare chest and abs.

He stood back and admired you.

“So gotdamn gorgeous,” Bucky whispered, almost to himself. “Take off those shorts. Don’t forget the panties.”

You hurried to obey, the situation making your pussy cry for his attention. He reached out to touch you, thumbs gently thrumming your nipples. You threw your head back and moaned. Then he drew his hands back. You looked up, mind scattered.

“I was so wrong when I assumed that you were a good girl earlier. And I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.”

Bucky watched as you bit your lip.

“You are not a good girl. Good girls don’t eavesdrop. I’m going to show you what happens to bad girls when I get my hands on them.”

The thrill that ran through your body was like nothing else.

“Do you want me to show you that? Do you want this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bucky drew in a breath.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed in .3 seconds.

“Yessss. That’s it. So obedient for me.” 

Bucky caressed the side of your face. You turned and captured his thumb in your mouth, sucking and looking up at him.

“Fuck, is that what you want? You want to suck my dick?”

You nodded, taking his thumb with you, which caused him to press it in deeper. He leaned down toward you.

“Now why would I want to go ahead and do that? You’ve been a very bad girl.”

Bucky straightened up, and pulled his dick out of his running shorts. It was more beautiful up close. You sighed as he started stroking it right in your face. 

“Do you see how I’m already dripping for you?”

You looked up at his cock, a beautiful clear bead of precum shining on its tip. Then you looked up at him and nodded.

“It’s a shame that you won’t get to suck it like you want to...” 

You whimpered in disappointment. He ignored you.

“Now, spread those knees apart and let me see how you would have gotten off tonight while you thought of me stroking off.”

He drew in a ragged breath as you looked up at him with those eyes and started to touch yourself.

“Wider, let me see that pussy from up here.”

You shifted so that he could see better what you were doing.

“Shit. That looks delicious. Get it nice and creamy for me. I’m gonna have my fill of you tonight.”

He looked pained as he jerked himself, drops of precum landing on your body. Your juices made for an audible display of your current situation; desperate for Bucky Barnes’ cock.

“Stop! Hands away.”

Bucky glared at you when you whined.

“Don’t act like a brat. You brought this on yourself. Get on the bed, ass up.”

You did as you were told, hoping that he would finally touch you.

“Now play some more for me.”

Bucky groaned as you wiggled your ass and reached for yourself.

“Stop, suck your fingers and get them wet, then stick them in as far as they will go.”

You whimpered and did as you were told, but your fingers were inadequate for what you wanted. Why you needed.

“Fuck, that little pussy looks so good. Add another finger. If I’m gonna fuck you, you need to be stretched out more than that.”

Next thing you knew, you felt his lips on your lower ones, and his tongue was doing unspeakable things to you as you fingered yourself. You saw stars at the obscene way that Bucky Barnes was eating you out.

The way he was smacking his lips and yours was curdling your brian. His tongue started licking you faster and faster and his lips were sucking your clit until you almost came. Then he stopped. You groaned in frustration.

Bucky stood up and backed away, stroking himself again.

“Turn over, do it again while I stroke myself off.” 

Again, you did as you were told.

This time, you licked your fingers obscenely, fellating them so that he could see what his cock was missing. He groaned and stroked faster as you circled your clit skillfully, playing with your nipple with your other hand.

“Fuck that looks so fucking….” 

Then he looked you in the eyes.

“You’re trying to get fucked, aren’t you?”

You nodded, trying not to seem too eager, but you were just his cock slut at this point.

“Well, if you can keep going as long as I say, and not cum, I might give you this dick.”

You bit your lip at the challenge, going to town on yourself, as nasty as you wanted to be. The faces and the grunts that came from him made it really hard to stay on earth, so you closed your eyes.

“Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes. You fucking slut.”

You snapped your eyes opened and were about to cum when you saw his big hand going a mile a minute around his bick cock, making his shiny red head appear and reappear in his palm, but he commanded, “Stop!” just in time, and grabbed your ankle, pulling you down to the edge of the bed.

“You’re about to get it now. Are you ready?”

“Yes!”

Bucky spread your thighs and spread them wide, swiping his slick cock head at your entrance.

“Can you take this cock?”

“I need it!”

“Want it raw? Want me to stretch this little pussy out?” 

Bucky was already inching inside you, causing a delicious burn that you wanted more of.

“Fuck yes!”

“Then be a good girl and….” 

Bucky slid inside you, making you take his cock like you’d never had to before with anyone else.

“Sooooo fucking wet and soooo fucking tight.” 

Bucky looked down at you, eyes shining. His chest was heaving with the effort to restrain himself. He couldn’t believe that he was where he’d wanted to be for a while now. And so he smiled at you.

“This pussy seems made for me.”

And then he started to move. It was a mind numbing experience of sensations, his thick, pulsing cock skating in the slick of your tight, stretched cunt. He fell down to his elbows and pressed his forehead against yours as you both looked down and watched the phenomenon.

“How does it feel, Sir?”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned as his hips faltered.

“Am I wet enough?”

“Fuck!”

Your voice in his ear was making him lose the facade of control that he had hanging by a string now that he was inside you.

“Feelsss…. Feels like… Fuck! …Don’t ask me…”

“Don’t ask what? How my pussy feels for you?”

“Holy mother of god I….”

Bucky took your thighs in his hand, pulled you to the edge of the bed again and started pounding. Then, he took your windpipe between his thumb and forefinger.

“That’ll teach you to try to…”

The way your eyes rolled back in your head had Bucky spurting inside of you already. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…..”

Bucky was fucking you ruthlessly. You’d never had it like this.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

You clenched around his cock and Bucky pulled out at the last possible second, shooting his cum on your stomach while reaching down and plucking your clit with his thumb. You finally came with a loud yell and a smile.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky was still milking his cock over you, so you reached down, gathered some cum on your fingers, and inserted them in your mouth. Bucky’s eyes rolled and he pulsed a last little bit of spend on your body.

“Where is your bathroom?”

You pointed toward your right and Bucky went in, ran some water and came out cleaned up, and with a washcloth for you. He sat down on the bed and tenderly took care of you. Then, he leaned down and kissed the belly that he’d just used. He leaned on his elbow and stared at you.

“You satisfied?”

“Hmmmmm. Yes.”

Bucky looked worried, then cleared his throat.

“Good. That was… it was very good for me too.” 

You smiled at him, trying to reassure him, then you started to speak. He stopped you.

“No worries, this shouldn’t affect our working relationship. We’re both adults. We can be professional, right?”

What you wanted was the farthest thing from professional, but you replied, “Right.”

Bucky kissed your nose, then stood up and started getting dressed. You got up and put on your robe, seeing him to the door.

Bucky smiled at you as he left.

“Tomorrow, 4 pm. My brownstone.”

You smiled back.

“And please announce yourself when you come in?”

Bucky winked as he started down the stairs, leaving you watching him until you couldn’t see him anymore.

When he was gone, and you were alone in your apartment, you wondered how the fuck You we’re supposed to be professional when you were addicted to that dick.

You were thinking hard when Bucky sent you a message 10 minutes later.

The text said:

Something to play with ;)

Early the next morning, too early, Bucky woke up drenched in sweat and reached for his glasses, medicine, and the bottle of water next to his bed.

It had been a while since he’d had the familiar nightmare about what happened Sarah. And his baby.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and came back to the present. He got up to run the shower and looked into the mirror. He felt guilty for not having Sarah on his mind as much lately. But you were quite the distraction. 

He’d finally found a reason to move on with his life. 

You.

You and Sarah were nothing alike. Your spirit, and your spunk were unlike any other person he’d ever met. He couldn’t bend you to his will.

Not that Sarah had been a pushover, but with her, it had been so easy. Bucky and Sarah fell for each other at first sight and immediately started sneaking around behind Sam’s back. They’d been like yin and yang, not the oil and water that you and he had become. 

Bucky looked deep into his own eyes in the mirror to see if they still reflected the feral violence he wreaked on the men who tried to kidnap them and inadvertently killed his wife and baby in the process. 

Now, five years after all of that you made Bucky’s heart race again, something that running couldn’t even do.

It was meant to be.

After five years out of the limelight, everyone was curious about the sorrow-filled story of what happened to James Buchanan Barnes, and your light, humor-filled piece was skillfully written and hinted at the deeper story. It was good journalism without being mean spirited and he respected you for your skill. 

He wanted you for your body, and he wanted in your mind and soul. 

Bucky Barnes needed you. Now that he had given you a taste of the physical, he just need to make you fall in love with him.

He wished that you were here beside him where you belonged, but all in due time. His plan was proceeding perfectly. 

Bucky did his breathing exercises and walked into a cool morning shower. After that, Bucky settled into bed with his laptop to make sure that you were okay.

The surveillance team he hired was in place outside your building, and you seemed to be sleeping peacefully from what he could see from the cameras placed inside your apartment.

Bucky sighed and closed his laptop, attempting to turn off his brain so that he could gain a few more moments of sleep as the sun started to rise.

What a day today would be.

Feedback is the essence of life. Reblog and read the next in the series, Bucky Charms.

#ask dj #dj answers #the playlist séries #Bucky Barnes #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo! bucky x journalist! reader #ceo! bucky #ceo! bucky x black reader #ceo! Bucky x black journalist reader #steve rogers #Sam Wilson #Natasha Romanoff #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #the Playlist series

[lovelytsunoda]

INDYCAR DRIVERS AS ROMANCE BOOK TROPES

summary: I give romance tropes to my favourite funky indycar men. if y’all actually want to see me do any of these, please tell me in the comments 🫣

dedicated to my bestie @magnummagnussen who helped ghostwrite and give her ideas on a few of the tropes! (sorry for not including sting ray bestie, I have his trope to callum!)

pato o ward

reverse grumpy sunshine!!! pato is a bright ball of sunshine and in an ideal romance book he would pair with a girl who is a little grumpy (just a little bit) and cynical about falling in love and then dear sweet patricio would sweep in and show her just how magical being in love can be and show her that soulmates are real and life doesn’t have to be doom and gloom all the time

josef newgarden

single dad x nanny trope! I can see this playing out as recently widowed josef (probably not the right word) struggling to balance being the only caregiver for his son next to his racing career. cue y/n, the nanny he hires to watch after his son while he’s away and competing. he’s scared to fall in love again because he’s still grieving what he once had, but his son grows attached to y/n and how could josef not fall in love with someone his son loves so much?

kyle kirkwood

second chance romance! he lost her once, and now that she’s back in his life he won’t give her up!! the way I see this one playing out is that maybe they were together before kyle made it to the big leagues, back when nobody in america knew his name. but while she was deciding which ivy league scholarship to choose, Kyle is thinking about his career. she gives him an ultimatum, and he picks racing. so she goes to her big fancy school and forgets about him. but when a family tragedy brings her back to florida and she comes face to face with kyle, who is now a grand prix winner, hes desperate to keep her from being the one who got away.

colton herta

accidental pregnancy!! their relationship was falling apart, the distance and the pressures of colton’s career. eating them alive. words were said that couldn’t be taken back. so they called it quits, he moved to nashville and she tried to keep her head down and finish school. until she missed her period. her world seems to be ending with those two little lines, but she still cares about him. she can’t just keep coltons child a secret from him, this disaster is as much his fault as it is hers. so she goes to indiana the weekend before the 500 and she tells him. tensions are running high between them both, but they’re trying to do right by each other and the baby, and the experience reminds them that maybe they were meant to be together all along.

marcus armstrong

brothers best friend!!! y/n ilott knows that marcus is off limits. since she was fifteen she’s thought all her brothers friends were gross anyways. marcus was always by far the most annoying. fast forward a few years and they’re racing together in the same series again and suddenly marcus armstrong isn’t a gross as she remembers. and has his voice always been that sexy?? but callum can NEVER know.

david malukas

wrong number! let’s face it this man is too lazy to make contacts for half of the names in his phone. he was so sure that was sting rays number. why wouldn’t it be, the man from idaho had typed it in himself. turns out, it wasn’t sting ray at all, but some random college student who lived over a thousand miles away. he starts to text her when she gets bored, eventually progressing to face time calls, and begins to get flustered once he has a face to put with the personality. ends with him flying out to meet in her in person.

christian lundgaard

fake dating! he shouldn’t have done it. every bone in his body told him not to do it but the panicked look on her face was enough to make christian agree to pretend to be her boyfriend to scare off her cheating ex boyfriend, who was making her seriously uncomfortable. it was just supposed to be for the weekend, until the guy started leaving her alone. but a lot can happen on one race weekend and suddenly it doesn’t seem so fake anymore.

callum ilott

childhood friends to lovers! they were always just supposed to be friends, but if that’s the case, why does callum hate her new boyfriend now that the relationship is getting serious? why does y/n still feel like something is missing? cue a drunken night out leading to the hottest sex callum has ever had and lingering questions on both sides about what they really truly want out of life and love.

TAGS:

@clemswrld @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiasundays @scuderiamh @lorarri

#indycar #indycar headcanons #indycar x reader #pato o ward #josef newgarden #kyle kirkwood #colton herta #marcus armstrong #callum illot #christian lundgaard #david malukas

[phantom-dc]

Jason is 15 years old.

Well, was 15. Now he’s dead. He’s pretty sure this isn’t Heaven though, not with the swirling green and purple doors everywhere. He’d been flying around for a while, when he heard a mean-sounding voice. As he found the source, he was confused. A robot man with a green flaming mohawk was attacking a kid with white hair and a black suit. He wasn’t sure if he should do something, but when the robot threatened to skin the boy he decided to intervene. He was a Robin, after all! Helping people in need is what he does! When the Robot aims at the kid, Jason kicks him with as much force as he can! He didn’t expect the head to fly off though! The kid thanks him, before pulling out a little angry ghost out of the robots head. He throws it onto the floating island nearby, and tells the ‘Skulker’ that he needs a new hobby. The kid flies up to Jason and introduces himself as Phantom. He compliments Jason on his kick, and asks if he might teach him some moves! It would certainly help with keeping his town safe. Jason was happy to show off his moves, and they became quick friends.

Phantom gives him a nickname: Blue Jay. His suit is no longer red, but has turned a blue shade, making it a fitting name. Blue Jay tries to help out others in the Zone, and teaches Phantom all his moves. Phantom tells him about his ghost hunting parents, so Blue Jay won’t go through the portal. He isn’t scared, but he doesn’t want to upset his new friend. Phantom sometimes brings him gifts from the living world, like sweets. Blue Jay tells him how Batman taught him a lot of things, and so did his big brother Nightwing. He teaches Phantom how to fall like an acrobat, so he doesn’t get hurt as bad when a ghost throws him to the ground. When Phantom learns how to create ice, he shows Blue Jay. Blue Jay tries to do it too, but somehow ends up making a tiny flame instead. Phantom thinks that’s still very cool, so Blue Jay doesn’t mind. This way they could tag team! Phantom shows him Ghostwriter’s library, even though he stays far away from it. Blue Jay doesn’t get why, as long as you’re not rough with the books you’re allowed to read them. Ghostwriter seems really nice? He doesn’t get it, but is still very grateful to Phantom. Blue Jay promises if Phantom ever needs help with anything, Blue Jay will help him no matter what.

One day they are chatting, sitting on a floating rock. Phantom admits he likes spending time with Blue Jay. His friends are great, but they don’t always understand him. Today, Dash was being a bully, so his friend Sam had jokingly suggested he’d borrow her taser. She’d even turned it on for a bit while showing it off. He knows she didn’t mean anything with it, but it had scared him. He died by being electrocuted in the portal, and ever since he hated electricity. He loves his friends, but they don’t understand what it’s like to die.

Blue Jay tells Phantom he died in an explosion. Blue Jay admits that he didn’t listen to Batman. He was supposed to stay behind, but his birthmother was there. He just wanted to see her. But she had betrayed him and they both got killed by the Joker instead. Phantom says he’s sorry that happened. His death was an accident. He can’t imagine what it’s like to be murdered like that. Blue Jay gets a wry smile, saying one good thing will come from it though. After all, he’s going to be the last person that clown killed. His dad will make sure of that.

The next day, Phantom can’t find his Blue Jay. In Gotham, Jason is digging himself out of his grave.

First - Previous - Next - AO3

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc #red hood #jason todd #batman #dead on main

[lexosaurus]

DAY TWO of the DP Side Hoes Week 2024 VOTING form has hit with a bang, including more propaganda and over 100 new votes in the past day! Since yesterday's top ten, there have been some surprising upsets in the form. Our current Top Ten is as follows:

Nocturn 

Super Danny

Cujo

Dani

Wulf

Frostbite

Fun Danny

Jack Fenton (tied for 8 & 9)

Jazz Fenton (tied for 8 & 9)

Amorpho

As you can see from the list, Nocturn and Super Danny are still holding firm in the top two. Cujo has made a considerable bump in the polls, likely due in part to some pawpaganda from @axion-labs. Dani has also gone from 10th to 3rd overnight, replacing Amorpho who went from one of the early leads, to now teetering at 10th place. New to the Top 10 entirely are Fun Danny, Jazz Fenton, and Jack Fenton, the latter likely in part to some truly breathtaking propaganda from @schnuffel-danny.

The inclusion of Super Danny and now Fun Danny to the Top 10 has also begun to stir up some debate: should the "divisions" of Danny's main character—like Fun Danny, Super Danny, and the failed clones—be considered side characters for this poll? And, if both of them make it into the Top 7, should they be combined into one day?

Below 10th, we also have some other characters making headway such as Angela Foley, Dairy King, Dan, Dash Baxter, Ember McLain, Ghostwriter, Freakshow, Johnny 13, Maddie the Cat, and Sidney Poindexter. But rest assured, there are many other characters inching up just below them!

If you haven't also caught wind, I have picked up a new recruit to help mod this competitive event. Everyone say hello and raise your pitchforks to @stealingyourbones! May she reign with an iron fist.

That's all for Day 2. I will check back in for Day 3's updated Top Ten list!

#danny phantom #dp side hoes week 2024 #keep the good work up! #and keep the votes rolling in! #for those wondering the google sign in requirement is so i can limit to 1 vote per person #aka so people dont stuff the polls #but i have the form set to NOT collect any emails #so i cannot see your google accounts #it's all anonymous to me

[earthtoharlow]

Teach Me

Here’s the first fic that’s part of my one year anniversary celebration, where there's a new fic every tuesday!

January

MASTERLIST

“Daddy, you made my bun lopsided!”

All Jack could do was sigh and redo his daughter’s hair again. They were going to be late if they kept this up. It was January, and it was the first day of school from winter break.

“Ok, Jayla, is this better?” Jack watched as she turned in her seat on top of the bathroom counter. He couldn’t help but smile at the expression on her face as she tapped her pointer finger to her chin as she inspected her hair. “A LOT BETTER!”

“Thank god!” Jack said as he lifted her off the counter. If they didn’t leave in the next 5 minutes, she was going to be late. “Ok, soldier, I need you to go put on your shoes and wait for daddy at the door.”

Jayla stood at attention “Sir, yes sir!” She saluted him before taking off down the hall and towards her room. Moments later Jack hears her feet running back towards him, Jayla popped her head back into the bathroom “Thank you for doing my hair, daddy!”

“You’re welcome, mamas.”

The drive to school was pretty quiet other than the sounds of Jayla playing with her Bratz dolls in the backseat. Jack heard the little girl let out a deep dramatic sigh as he pulled into the school parking lot. He ignored the sigh as he got out the car to open her door, knowing what was coming next.

As he opened the door, Jayla sighed again but louder.

“Daddy…” Jayla said in almost a whine

“Yes, mamas.” Jack said while still unbuckling her out of her seat.

“Can I miss one day of school please?!” Jack had to give it to her, the puppy dog eyes were top notch. But he knew better than to give in. “You can’t, Jay. We’ve talked about this.”

Out of the car now, Jayla stomped her foot on the pavement and crossed her arms. “Why do you get to stay home all day and I can’t?!” She exclaimed looking up at him with her hands now on her hips. Jack bent down to her eye level.

“I’m at home working—“

“I can work from home too!”

All Jack could do was drop his head in a sigh, wishing her mother was here for moments like this.

“There’s things teachers can teach you that daddy can’t. It’s only for a couple hours.” Jack watched as Jayla continued to pout in front of him.

“And remember how excited you were when you found out you were getting a new teacher!” Jayla’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Yeah! Because Miss Brown had a baby!” She exclaimed

“Exactly, so if you don’t go you’ll miss out on the chance to meet her!”

Jayla starts bouncing on her toes before grabbing Jack’s hand and starts dragging him towards the entrance of the school.

“C’mon, slow poke!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that as he followed behind her.

JACKHARLOW

liked by brysontiller, champagnepapi, urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, thomaschristmas, yungskylark, cozane and 786,456 others

jackharlow: I think I’m getting better at this hair thing…

view all 5,346 comments

urbanwyatt: took you long enough

user: Jack come out of retirement

user: does anyone know why he doesn’t make music anymore

user: ok you ate

user: sooo cute

user: this nice and all but dude we haven’t heard new music from you in years

“Jack, you sure you don’t want to hold on to this track, it's fire!” His long-time engineer, Nickie Jon asked him.

Jack just shook his head. He was happy with being a ghostwriter. Less pressure.

“But, Jack—“ the sound of Jack’s phone ringing interrupted whatever Nickie was going to say next. Jack breathed a sigh of relief before pulling his phone out his pocket.

Bloom Elementary School

Jack immediately answered the phone.

“Hello?” Jack said as he started grabbing his things. The school has never called him. Not even once.

“Hello. Mr. Harlow. I’m Miss Love, Jayla’s first grade teacher.”

Jack knew who she was, well kinda. The school was always sending daily emails. Reminders on how Jayla was doing, upcoming PTA meetings etc. So he remembers the email about Jayla’s class getting a new teacher after winter break. Back when Jack was in the public eye, he was more involved with the school since he was an alumni. The last few years Jack didn’t do many public appearances at the school, but would still anonymously donate money. He couldn’t stand the stares and whispers and people feeling sorry for him.

“Is everything alright?” Jack asked in a slight panic. His hand was already on the doorknob ready to leave. He was getting flashbacks to four years ago when his life changed drastically.

“She’s fine, I promise.”

Jack felt like a weight had been lifted as he released the breath he was holding. “Fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Mr. Harlow.” She practically scolded him over the phone.

“Sorry, sorry! You just scared me, that's all.” Jack ran his hand through his already curls. Jack leaned against the door of his home studio. He felt like he needed to pick his heart up from the ground.

“No I’m sorry, I really should’ve opened with something better.” Miss Love said, sounding apologetic.

“It’s okay, how can I help you, Miss Love?”

“I was wondering if I could have a meeting with you after school? Jayla got into an altercation at school during recess.”

“Uh what? Jayla got in a fight?” Jack questioned. That did not sound like his child.

He listened as Miss Love cleared her throat before speaking again which made Jack stand up straighter. Yeah, Jayla was a tad bit sassy, and could be a chatter box but she had never gotten into any sort of trouble at school. She was very kind and was always nice to everyone around her. He couldn’t imagine her getting into a fight.

“She pushed another classmate at the playground, and while it wasn’t unwarranted I want to try to avoid this happening again in the future.”

Jack took a hand and rubbed his temples. “Yeah, of course. Can we talk today, after school?”

“Sounds good, see you soon Mr. Harlow.”

“Thanks for calling, Miss Love.”

When Jack was younger he always dreamed of settling down In Louisville and having kids with the person he loved. 

Jack met Jayla’s mother, Alyssa backstage at one of his concerts and it was love at first sight. They dated for a couple years before she ended up pregnant. They were only 22 years old, one of his first hits WHATS POPPIN was topping the charts. They say the best moments in life are completely unexpected. While they were scared of bringing a baby into the world when they were both so busy, they couldn’t be happier. 

The first couple months after Jayla was born were tough. With Jack’s schedule getting busier and busier and her Alyssa going through postpartum, the two spent many nights staying awake and crying together.

Jack’s parents tried to help out the best she could but while Jack and Alyssa were grateful for all the help they didn’t want to be so dependent on them. 

Thankfully, things did get easier for them and they were on track to raising a beautiful and wonderful baby girl. If you had told Jack back then that years later he would unexpectedly become a single father, he would have laughed in your face.

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

Being a teacher wasn’t always on Ariel Love’s vision board. She had dreams of becoming a writer. It wasn’t until she was offered a student teacher position in college that she fell in love with teaching. That's where she found out that working with kids was the most fun and rewarding job ever. 

Ariel was born in Kentucky but moved to DC when she was only a little girl. It wasn’t till her principal at her old school presented her with a job opportunity to teach first grade back in Kentucky that she decided to move. During her interview with Bloom Elementary, they loved her background in writing and her work experience that they decided to hire her. 

She has never taught her own class before, having always been a teacher’s assistant. That being said, she was very excited for her first day. 

She had no idea that she was going to have to call home to one of her kids on her very first day. Miss Brown, the class's former teacher, had left notes on her kids so that she knew what she was working with. Ariel was shocked when she had to stop Jayla Harlow from hurting another child, Miss Brown only had positive things to say about her. 

Even now it was hard to believe that the little girl who was sitting at her desk coloring had almost got in a fight today. 

After the situation at recess, Ariel had heard whispers about Jayla’s father. Apparently, he used to be some super hot big time rapper before he suddenly retired and fell off the face of the earth. None of the whispers could prepare her for when he walked into her classroom. Walking in wearing a gray new balance tracksuit with new balance to match. A gold KY chain dangled around his neck and it looked identical to the one Jayla was wearing today. He had a beautiful set of bright blue eyes, with a scruffy beard and a head full of messy curls that looked like he was constantly running his fingers through. 

Their eyes met for a second before he walked over to Jayla’s desk to greet her. Ariel watched as he pulled Jayla into his chest for an embrace and placed a kiss on her forehead. She couldn’t hear what he whispered in her ear but she could hear Jayla’s silent reply “okay, daddy.” Before quietly plopping back down in her seat. 

Ariel stood from her seat as Mr. Harlow walked towards her. “Thank you for stopping by, Mr Harlow.” She said as she extended her hand for him to shake, and immediately noticed there was no ring on his finger. She felt her face get warm as his large hand grabbed hers. 

“Uh, please call me Jack. I’m not even thirty yet so Mr. Harlow makes me feel old.”

“Ok, Jack. And since we’re going to be on a first name basis, you can call me Ariel.”

“Ariel,” he said slowly. “Like the mermaid?”

She could help but laugh at that. “Yes, exactly like the mermaid.”

She then motioned towards the seat in front of her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

“First, I just wanted to apologize for this morning. Definitely didn’t mean to scare you with the call.” Ariel began to ramble. 

Jack just shook his head and waved away her apology. “It’s alright, I promise.”

“You said on the phone that she pushed someone?”

Ariel sat up straighter at her desk. “Yes. While I’ve only been Jayla’s teacher for about…” she looked down at her watch “five hours now, I can already tell she’s a wonderful student. Miss Brown only had the best things to say about her. One of our classmates was bothering a little girl from the kindergarten class, she did use her words before pushing the child. I’ve spoken to both of their parents about the situation as well."

“It won’t happen again, I’ve always taught her to keep her hands to herself. Right, Jayla?” Jack said before turning around and giving his daughter a stern look. 

Jayla lifted her head up at the call of her name. “Right, but daddy they were being mean to Nova…so I’m not that sorry! ” Jayla exclaimed 

Jack immediately turned back towards Ariel. “The student was Nova Wyatt?” 

While she wasn’t supposed to give out this information, she figured that there was no point in lying to him. 

“Yes, I assume you know her?”

“Yeah, I’m her godfather, and Nova’s dad is Jayla’s”

Jack sighed and placed his head in hands for a moment. He then lifted his head to speak again. “Shit, I’m sorry. Is there going to be any disciplinary actions for Jayla?” He asked before taking a look at Jayla before looking at Ariel once more.

Ariel narrowed her eyes at him for cursing again before shaking her head no. “Between me and you, Jayla was really upset about the situation. She immediately understood what she did was wrong. She’s not a bad kid, just protective over the people she loves.”

She watched as Jack nodded and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I really appreciate it, is that all?” He asked as he went to stand. 

Ariel nodded and grabbed a purple sticky note and wrote her number down. “As you know, I of course have your number because it’s in Jayla’s file but I wanted to give you mine.” She handed Jack her number and tried to ignore the small spark she felt when his fingers grazed hers as he took the slip 

“My line is always open. You can ask me anything pertaining Jayla or about school events coming up. I can even send you little updates about her throughout the day.”

Jack smiled while looking at the note, loving the way she dotted her i’s with hearts. “Thanks, I’ll definitely reach out about school related things. I would love updates about Jayla, I miss her during the day.”

“You can even text me even if it’s not about school events.” Ariel blurted out, jesus first day of teaching and she’s already making a fool out of herself in front of a parent. At least this one is cute.

Jack could tell she was embarrassed but there was no reason too because he was planning on doing that anyway. “Hm, I think I will.” He told her with a smirk on his face. 

Ariel’s face warmed at that. “I think that’s all. You and Jayla are free to go.”

She watched as Jack grabbed Jayla’s Bratz backpack and swung it over his shoulders as they walked towards the door. 

“BYE, Miss, Love! See you tomorrow. I won’t push anyone tomorrow, I promise!” Jayla told her with a wave

She tried to hold in her laughter. “Bye, Jayla! We’ll have a better day tomorrow, I’m sure.” She gave the two one last wave before tending to the paperwork on her desk. 

Ariel could help but smile huge at the exchange she heard outside her door. 

“Daddy, were you flirting with Miss Love?”

“Will you quiet down?”

there was a beat of silence. 

“well…were you?”

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

AN: Tried to leave this as open ended as possible so if enough people enjoy this I'll continue writing :) tell me your thoughtssss!

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @toocriticalharlow @mace23477 @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @laylasbunbunny @ilyangelsxo @comehomeimissyou @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #jack harlow instagram au #social media au #brieanniversary #teach me

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

I still think she be desperate enough to do another reality show. She’s going to convince herself that this time it’s different because she’s going to show her children more so they can get the attention they deserve.

I think it’s the only angle that will somewhat break Harry. The fact that his children aren’t treated the same way by the press nor do they command the same respect is a touchy subject for him.if he thinks this will help them out he’ll do it.

They could do that. She could also publish her memoir. Those are two obvious moneymakers and it’s odd that they haven’t pounced on them.

I suspect they were taken aback by the negative response to their documentary and their memoir. They weren’t expecting that, they don’t quite understand why it happened, and they don’t want the same thing to happen if they do a reality show or another memoir.

Look at it from their perspective. They worked with top-notch, highly respected collaborators. They thought these would be high-prestige projects that would result in awards and accolades. They honestly thought they had a chance at an Oscar and/or Pulitzer. Instead, they got viral curtsy videos and frozen penis jokes.

They don’t want that to happen again, but how can they ensure that? They got the best documentary filmmaker and ghostwriter available and it was still a disaster.

[tanglepelt]

Falling into the Zone

AO3

Danny gets lost in the ghost zone having entered via natural portal. The one good thing out of it is he catches a vigilante likely saving them from death.

Tim was not originally in my plan. It was just going to be Danny seeing new sites. Then Tim fell into Dannys arms.

It was meant to be an uneventful trip into the ghost zone. Danny just needed to get to Amity and then back before the fruit loop noticed. Danny was not attending that gala with Vlad without a way to defend himself if he could help it.

Vlad wanted his little badger to attend a gala with him. Of course, his dad agreed right away and sent him off. No matter how tired he fought against it. Vladdy knew best Afterall. Who cares if it makes Danny extremely uncomfortable? Not his Parents.

Even his mom knew he didn’t like Vlad. She just went along with it of course. It would be a good bonding experience for the two.

It couldn’t even be a day trip. No. Vlad had a suite in some hotel in Gotham. They would be there two days early. There was no need for it. The fruit loop is only doing it to make him even more uncomfortable. To rub his wealth in his face or something.

The first day was spent just being lectured on proper etiquette followed by threats if he didn’t behave. He wasn’t going to risk Vlad releasing his experiments on Amity when he wasn’t there. So, he would behave at the gala. Only the gala got specified in that deal.

Danny couldn’t even contact his friends to warn them. The fruit loop had “accidentally” knocked into Danny causing him to drop his phone. Only to “accidentally” step on the phone breaking it.

There is no way the outfit Vlad had specially made didn’t have some form of anti-ecto properties. He was starting to think there was more to making himself look better. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

If Plasmius made an appearance at the Wayne Gala. That was on the bats. Danny wouldn’t need to get involved. If Amity doesn’t need help, he’s sure an experienced vigilante could handle it. He had no experience and handled it himself.

Danny was set to behave, be good and stick around. He was trapped in the hotel room anyways. Anti-ecto shields keeping him stuck.

Then a glowing green portal opened in front of him. Which Is odd. Now he wasn’t at the Gala so why behave? Was it a bad choice? Probably. He didn’t care, better than staring at a wall.

He went through it. Right into the ghost zone. The portal closed behind him. At least he didn’t have to worry about Vlad following. All he had to do was make his way to the Fenton portal warn Sam and Tucker and be back within an hour. Should be easy.

He’d have to find an excuse for how he got out. But that was future Danny problem.

Current Danny problem was being lost in the zone. Nothing here looked familiar. It was all new, with different islands and different doors.

The farther he flew the more he saw.

Floating islands made of candy, waterfalls in thin air, floating rivers with glass walls and flooring you could see ghost fish swim, and the massive number of flying animals.

He had seen dragons, unicorns, rabbits using their ears to fly, there was even an emu. They all just were chilling in the zone. Now he knew animals resided in the zone. Cujo was proof of that. He just didn’t expect there to be so many.

The sheer size of the zone shouldn’t surprise him. It was officially known as the infinite realm for a reason. A place that connected every universe and every dimension to the afterlife. Even if you believe when you’ll die you go to the void you must pass through the realm first. Anyone who dies travels through it. Only around 2% ever stay. Yet 2% of an infinite is too much to count.

Those who remained in the infinite realm had tragic deaths or had business left to attend to.

Take ghostwriter for example. He died in the fire that took down the library of Alexandria. It’s why he was so protective of his books. His human life ended trying to save the books of the past. He couldn’t protect them so now he can write books his own way. On top of having a library of all the past books to ever exist. Danny destroying his book reminded him of his death.

No one wanted to relive their death day.

Danny was content to take in the sights. See a whole new area of the zone. Once he figured out where he was this area would go on their map. Better than no map but certainly not the infimap.

This area of the zone was astounding. So much better than by the prison.

An island of floating water with what appeared to be mermaids and mermen.

An island with large trees and a giant nest. Humanoid creatures with wings resided there.

Did the zone have property value?

The Fenton portal was right near walkers’ prison. Maybe they just opened the portal in a bad area.

Danny had even passed a few ghosts while flying. He had prepared to be attacked. Yet none came. The ghost just looked at him and left. He wasn’t sure but Danny is positive one called him a baby. Which rude. He is 15.

Around an hour in, he was about ready to ask someone for directions. Someone had to know where the prison, the far frozen or even the river of revulsion was. He was interrupted before caving.

A bright green light came from above.

Another natural portal. He was tempted but knew better. He could end up in the wrong time. No, he needed to get to the Fenton portal or frostbite.

While he was considering what to do a body fell right into Danny's arms. A human. Black hair red/black/yellow cosplayer outfit and a black mask. There wasn’t much time to process.

The screaming from the portal was overwhelming. Then a boomerang hit him square in the face. A tracker?? Listening device?? something attached. Something was being shot through then with a woosh the portal closed. A grappling hook??? Yea, that’s a grappling hook. Well, half of it got cut off when the portal closed. Thankfully it wasn’t a body part.

Danny did crush the device. He didn’t want Technus to get his hands on that technology. It was far smaller and more advanced than what he had. Regardless of what it was. Not worth a potential headache.

Either way, it’s not like it would work.

Tucker had specifically made stuff to work here. Which Danny didn’t have. Man, maybe he should have thought twice about rushing into the portal. No, his impulsive thoughts were of use. Regardless of if Danny was here, the guy passed out in his hands would have fallen. Which means who knows if he would have survived.

It was more important than ever to get to frostbite.

Danny went to investigate the wounds it all clicked. The boomerang, grappling hook, and tiny device. This was Red Robin, one of Gotham’s Vigilantes.  One of Gotham’s Vigilantes was unconscious in his arms with a bleeding head.

That wasn’t good.

Thankfully Sam had made him read up on all the vigilantes in Gotham. She stressed not to reveal himself as Batman seemed to have a bad reputation with metas. Which was funny.

Danny was half-dead not meta.

Batman shouldn’t have a problem with him.

Unless he hated the undead.

Back to the problem at hand. Well, three. First, a human was in the realm. Secondly, the human was injured. Thirdly he had no idea where he was. Bad odds.

There wasn’t even anyone to ask for directions from.

Danny had never been more relieved for Cujo to show up. It was at least some sense of normalcy in the zone. When Cujo grabbed him by the ankle and dropped him and his guest off at the far frozen he could have cried tears of joy.

Frostbite took one look at the situation, and it was off to their medical bay. All the wounds were superficial, well, and apparently a sedative. Red would be awake soon. Now Danny just had to figure out what to say and how to explain the bracelet now on his wrist.

Humans were the ghost here. Red could just fall through the island into the zone if he wasn’t careful. Sam and Tucker each had their own devices in case they weren’t in the speedster.

Red bolted awake. Checking his mask then looking around the obvious med center. Not even double looking at the yetis. Then he made eye contact with Danny.

“Where am I”

“The afterlife!”  the look on Red’s face said that was the wrong thing to say. He probably assumed he died or something.

“You didn’t die first off. Secondly, stop messing with that bracket, take it off and you’ll fall through the floors.” Danny gave him his best-pointed look. He didn’t think it was effective. Red did stop messing with it. “You fell in a natural portal. Guess you fell for me, right into my arms. You're actually very lucky most who fall don’t make it out alive.”

Red then started messing with his sleeve. “Tech doesn’t work here, has to be specially made.”

The vigilante kept fidgeting with gadgets and gizmos. Even pulling stuff out of his belt. It wasn’t a surprise when nothing worked.

“How do I get home”

“I can take you once Frostbite gives you the okay. Well, frostbite and I. I’m not trusted with the infimap alone. Accidentally travel through time three times and you get deemed a problem. It's not my fault the fruit loop stole it from me.”

“Don’t leave out how you failed to return it Great one” Frostbite boomed as he walked in. Evidently letting in a chill as Red shivered. “Let me look over the human and then I can return you both to the human realm.”

The checkup went well. All Frostbite did was make sure he wasn’t going to pass out again. Nothing else. Frostbite grabbed the map.

No warning given frostbite grabbed the vigilante’s wrist and asked Danny to place his on the map.

“Take us to where they need to be”. There was a trick to the map. Not specifying a place.

Only frostbite landed nicely in some dining room. Danny and Red slammed into a wall. Red’s mask was gone; Danny’s ghost form was gone. There go secret identities.

“Welcome back to the human realm young ones. I shall take my leave. Do try and avoid the natural portals that spawn. You both were lucky.” Frostbite spoke voice full of humor. Frostbite used the map to return to the far frozen. Leaving Danny alone with a bunch of strangers.

He took in the faces around him.

Red Robin was timothy drake Wayne. Alrighty… how was he getting out of this situation. All the black-haired blue eyes people were just focused on him.

After a lot of explanation and a lot of Danny’s personal information being shared, it wasn’t that bad. He was at least able to warn the bats about Vlad.

#dannymay2023 #day 9 #ghost zone #tim drake #DC DP #dp dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #fanfic #phanfic #vlad is no good #could be pre braindead #idk

[abarbaricyalp]

Written for @sambuckylibrary Valentines Bingo. Free space fill (most of mine are gonna be free spaces) I guess it technically fills the Sam-Searching-For-Bucky fill too but not in spirit, so it doesn't count

Rated T/M, No Archive Warnings

Read on AO3 here

Bid Your Heart Goodbye

"You know why they put us up first, right?" Barton asked under his breath next to Sam.

Sam's gaze slid to him with only mild interest.  "Because we're the people's princesses?"

They were standing in the wings of a fancy stage with velvet curtains that smelled like they hadn't been cleaned since they were installed. Beyond the curtains, an audience dressed to the nines wined and dined. That same dinner was waiting for Sam if this charity auction would ever get underway.

No matter what Barton said about the order of the night, Sam wouldn't be made to feel less than grateful that he'd be sitting down and digging into an expensive steak in less than half an hour. Hopefully. Steve, the poor sod, was the last bid of the night.

Buy A Date With An Avenger had been a fundraiser since before Sam was involved with them at all. This was the first year he was participating in it. If he'd been asked the year before, he'd have been more than excited to join, take a break from the Ghost Hunt and relax in a fancy hotel for while. This year, he had other things he wanted to be doing with his time. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that the Ghost Hunt was over and the ghost was accounted for, but Sam still felt like of he took his eyes off of him, he'd disappear into the night again. Perhaps it didn't. Who was to say.

"They're hoping people will bid high on us because they haven't spent big money on Steve or Tony yet," Clint said with some kind of sardonic glee. "Of someone spends million dollars to meet Steve, they're not gonna fork over anything else for us."

Sam rolled his eyes and elbowed Clint's arm. "Speak for yourself. I bet I hit 50k before the fifth vote."

The sardonicism melted away and Clint's eyes lit up. "I bet I make more than you," he countered.

"What're you gonna do? Strip?" Sam joked. Then he added, "Has Steve really gotten a million dollars before?"

"Couple of years ago," Clint confirmed. "Right after the whole thing in DC with you. That year. Super fan. They wanted the inside scoop on all of that for a book they were making someone ghostwrite."

Sam snorted. That sounded about right. There had been smaller opportunities for people to donate and win time with the heroes throughout the night. Steve was certainly a favorite. It might've dinged Sam’s ego a bit if he couldn't see how miserable Steve was with all of the attention.

Sam didn't mind this kind of thing. The VA held fundraisers all the time. He was used to the pleasant smiles and benign interest and the insufferable drone of rich people with money they needed. Actually, Sam was pretty good at it. Hell, he almost liked it, in a detached, out-of-body sort of way. He liked to be useful and he liked to be charming and gracious.

"Young man, you could've been a prince in another lifetime," an old woman had said to him once, patting his hand because she hadn't let go of it for five minutes.

"Only if you'd be my princess," he'd charmed back and gotten an extra donation towards their meeting spaces renovation for his time.

Tonight wasn't much different, though pocket books seemed to be a little fatter and held a little tighter. There were no promises made for nothing. Everything was about the spectacle of the bidding, the silent auction of memorabilia, the game of being allowed to tease time and attention from someone as important as an Avenger.

The proceeds weren't for the Avengers. They were all going towards charities around the nation. Each hero had picked one. Sam's was a housing program in Louisiana, to help people displaced after storms, year after year. 

"How much did your date go for last year?" Sam asked.

"About 20k," Clint said. "But I wasn't the worst of the night. A science lab got Bruce's date, but they didn't have to be very competitive about it."

Sam sucked in a breath through his teeth. "That's dirty, man."

"Hey, it worked out for them. He went to their lab, helped them through some results that weren't adding up, and they won some ridiculously prestigious award a month or so ago. Yet another paper with Dr. Bruce Banner's name on it too."

Sam had to give them that. That was a much better use of Bruce’s time than having dinner with someone who bought affection, someone who couldn’t be bothered to help people unless they got something in return.

This night could not be over quickly enough.

Sam was up first, as the newest member of the Avengers. He’d rewatched the livestream from last year to prepare himself, but there was still nothing like hearing his name echo throughout the room as the chatter of the evening lowered to a polite gust of whispers. The MC read off a list of Sam’s accomplishments as he walked on stage and gave a few easy-going smiles and waves. He listened as the MC explained what his charity was and how the money may be used.

And then the bidding began. It was a little slow going. It started at five thousand dollars, like all the dates would tonight. Someone upped it to seven, and then ten. A bright blue placard caught the corner of Sam’s eye. Everyone else had classy black and gold placards. This one was meant to stand out. It caught the MC’s eye too, apparently, because he gave a hearty chuckle and gestured to the man with the bright blue placard, sitting at a table with other event organizers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I neglected to mention that this year we are hosting the bidding online as well. We’ll entertain bids in real time from our website. What was the bid?” he asked the stand-in bidder.

“Fifty thousand, sir,” the man said. “From an anonymous bidder.”

A literal gasp went through the audience. Which, hey, a date with him was totally worth 50k, Sam thought. A little deliriously maybe. Fifty thousand dollars? From ten? Sam was absolutely not about to pass out on the stage. He just needed a lectern to hold onto for a few seconds.

The MC whistled appreciatively. “That is quite the statement. Does anyone want to say 55?”

The woman who’d been the first to bid raised her placard again.

“Great. 60?”

The blue placard went up again. “Sir, the same bidder has said 100,000.”

Someone was fucking with Sam. He turned to glare at Barton, because this was surely his doing. He’d just been telling Sam about how only Steve and Tony made any real money and him and Sam were just chum to get the sharks going. And somehow he had someone fuck up the online bidding site to do this.

But Barton looked just as confused as Sam was, and about fifteen times as gleeful.

The MC didn’t falter. He was a damn professional. Sam needed to send him a fruit basket or something. Sure, Steve and Tony’s dates went for more than half a million each last year. $100,000 was nothing compared to the rest of the night. But Sam wasn’t sure even he could’ve kept a straight face while talking about his company being worth more than a substantial downpayment on a house. But the MC just grinned at the audience and said, “Anyone willing to go for 110? $110,000 would change a lot of lives. Build a lot of houses, folks.”

Unbelievably, a whole new placard went up. Sam wondered if this was just someone trying to goad the online bidder into doing something even more outrageous.

Which they did. Before the MC could even decide on another number to challenge 110,000 damn dollars, the blue placard went up.

“175,” he said.

Sam blinked at him, feeling like a deer in the headlights while someone explained linear algebra to it. What the fuck was happening? Actually, was he in danger? Should he even meet someone willing to spend $175,000 just to have dinner with him? Was he going to end up tied up in a basement somewhere?

“Folks, I don’t know if anyone is going to be able to outlast our anonymous bidder. Do I hear 180? 180 on the room? How about 177? 176? 175-5? If not, Sam Wilson’s date has just been bought for $175,000. To our high bidder, you’ve helped a beautiful cause. Planning emails will be sent to the address on your bid form, so please keep an eye out for those. And now, please welcome Hawkeye himself, Clint Barton!”

Sam was only able to get himself off of the stage because he had Clint’s path to follow. Clint beamed at him, knocked the sides of their fists together as he whispered, “Bird bros,” and then waggled his eyebrows like that meant anything.

Backstage, Steve managed to find him before anyone who would need his help coordinating the date. He was cheesing about as hard as Clint was.

“I told you you’d be nothing but good for this,” he teased, giving Sam a half hug. “I wonder whose eye you caught so strongly.”

“Hopefully not a Christian Grey,” Sam muttered, which made Steve blush but laugh. Over the years, the number of pop culture references Sam was able to get away with had dwindled to mostly the obscure. Evidently Christian Grey was not obscure.

“Maybe it’s someone who wants to know more about the Falcon tech?” he suggested. “Or someone who just knows you’re a really great guy. I’d pay 200k to have lunch with you.”

Sam rolled his eyes and elbowed Steve’s ribs lightly. “Lucky for you, you get me for free.”

“Well, sometimes the price of a burger.”

“Only when we go to that fancy place you like.”

“Mr. Wilson?” an event organizer said, interrupting them and looking very apologetic for it. “We’d just like to go over your preferences very quickly before we begin drafting emails. It should only take a few minutes.”

“Of course,” Sam said with a nod. He gestured for her to lead the way and then shot a look at Steve, trying to convey a suave ‘guess this is my life’ kind of energy. Steve’s laughter was not helpful in determining if he hit the mark or not.

. . .

The date was at a rooftop restaurant, near the beach. It was New York, so the hustle and bustle of the city was ever present, but the crash of the waves and the calling of the birds was a nice addition. Sam hadn’t forgotten how much he liked the peace of the beach. No amount of time away from home would ever pull the saltwater out of his bones. But perhaps he underestimated it until he was in the sand and the water again. Assuming his date was not obsessive and willing to follow Sam around, he was definitely going to get down on the beach before heading back to Steve’s for the night.

The restaurant was the kind of place Sam would never go on his own. He couldn’t picture a single reason to be at some place like this. He hadn’t even gone to Stark events like this yet. True, the rooftop part was his idea. ‘Get a bird's eye view with the Falcon.’ It was a stupid gimmick that he’d thrown down on paper at the very beginning of the planning for the auction. But, evidently, his anonymous bidder had been into the idea as well. Sam had expected some slightly upscale bar where young people looked at him like he was decrepit, but the bidder had suggested this place, which was definitely beyond upscale and had very few hip-young-person patrons.

Then again, this person had spent almost $200,000 to even get this date. What was several hundred more for food?

The foundation was paying for Sam’s food, so he was two glasses of a very good red grenache wine into the night when the waiter stopped to let him know his date was checking his coat.

A man? Sam was surprised. Everyone in the room who had bid on Sam’s date had been women. Even the last instigator had been a woman. (She had continued to instigate throughout the night. Sam kind of thought she might’ve been a plant by the foundation to drive up bids.)

He kept his eyes on the entry way onto the roof. In theory, he could’ve peered through the glass windows of the kitchen, but there was far too much going on in there for him to be able to see anything important. Instead, he kept an eye on the archway covered in roses and ivy, where a maitre d’ waited to guide people to their reserved seats–or fuss at her waitstaff.

It did not take long for Sam’s date to arrive. He knew it was him as soon as he came through the roses.

He was wearing a beautiful black on black suit, a black silk tie gleaming in the decorative fire light. His hair was pulled back in a slick, tight ponytail, sitting just a little higher than the nape of his neck so he could still tuck it into his shirt collar. Everything about him was powerful, the long sprawl of his legs, the breadth of his chest and thighs, even the curl of his gloved fingers as he circled one set around his other wrist. His blue eyes were impossibly piercing as they found Sam before the maitre d’ could even gesture over. And then he was smiling, wide and enamored. It made him look so much younger.

Sam scrambled to stand up as he made his way over, having to pause to let the maitre d’ know he could handle it on his own. By the time he did get to their little corner table, Sam still hadn’t convinced himself this wasn’t a dream.

Where have you been? Sam wanted to ask. Why would you spend $175,000 to see me?

“You could have just called,” is what he said in the end.

Bucky Barnes had not stopped smiling. It was really killing the whole mafia boss vibe he otherwise had going for himself. He brought his hands up to Sam’s face and then kissed him in front of every damn one at the restaurant. Sam’s hands went to his wrists, thumbs slipping below his sleeves and under his gloves to rub the inside of his wrists, his pulse point.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else getting this time with you. Talking to you. Maybe even touching you, even if it was just your hand or kicking your foot under the table,” he admitted under his breath, a confession just for the two of them.

“You spent almost $200,000,” Sam breathed back. “That’s more than a little jealousy.”

“Sam, you’re worth every damn dollar I’ll ever be able to find.”

Sam wanted to tuck himself against Bucky’s chest, hiding his face between his collar and jaw and just breathe in the other man. This addiction had grown faster than he’d thought possible. It hadn’t been long, in the grand scheme of things, since he’d last seen Bucky, but this moment felt like water after a drought anyway.

“I know you woulda made sure you were untraceable, but it's still very hot that you risked getting caught to make the bid,” Sam eventually said, pulling away and then pulling out Bucky’s seat for him.

Bucky gave a silly half bow and sat, waited for Sam to do the same before he said, “Someone else was bidding for me. Don’t look at me like that. I have friends.”

Sam rolled his eyes good naturedly. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried,” he  joked.

“Well, I think the metric is: if I’m this handsome, you should be flattered.” Bucky grinned at him and it took off about two decades worth of suffering.

Sam looked suitably appalled. “Who taught you about pretty privilege and double standards?” he asked.

Bucky laughed again and hooked his ankle against Sam’s under the table. Sam didn’t let himself react visibly, but he did run the toe of his most expensive shoes up the side of Bucky’s other leg.

“I heard the Bluefin here is exquisite,” he said instead of answering.

“We are not ordering Bluefin Tuna,” Sam nixed instantly.

“Okay, okay, what about the salmon?”

Salmon wouldn’t be so bad.

. . .

The date had not included a hotel room. Obviously. Even exploitation of superheroes hadn’t hit that feverpitch yet. However, Bucky had an expensive hotel room and Sam had nothing else to do with the evening. He’d texted Steve earlier that he wasn’t about to be part of a Misery remake, so there was no one on standby waiting for his return.

Even if there had been, he was pretty sure he would have forgotten about them by the time Bucky, a little shyly and endearingly, had suggested Sam come back with him for the night. He was perfectly gentlemanly as he greeted the doorman and bragged on his date a little bit and then led Sam to the elevator. He managed to keep his hands to himself for the upwards climb and the intentionally slow walk down the hallway.

“I hope your friend isn’t sharing a room with you,” Sam said as Bucky fiddled with his keycard, crowding Sam against the door like the sexiest predator cat the world had ever seen.

“Nah,” Bucky agreed, putting his forearm against the door next to Sam’s head as he curled his whole body inwards towards Sam. “She’s not even in the country.”

He unlocked and opened the door before Sam had even seen his hand move, then caught Sam up in his arms before Sam could fall back into the apartment. His feet barely touched the ground as Bucky carried him through the room. The door shut behind them with a soft click. The hotel room was basically bigger than the lower floor of Sam’s place in DC and definitely bigger than his room at the Avengers Compound, which is where he would’ve otherwise ended up tonight.

Surprisingly, the bed was near the window, blinds down but not all the way closed. The city lights twinkled outside and bathed the white sheets in a smear of intangible watercolor. Then, when Bucky dropped him on the bed, those lights painted over Sam too. He only got to stare at them, turning his hand this way and that, for a moment before Bucky was straddling his lap and staring down at him with an open hunger. Sam could do nothing but stretch out beneath him.

Bucky’s long fingers came up to the top of his dress shirt and slowly, carefully, undid the buttons. There was none of the frantic rush that always followed them when they came together. There really wasn’t even anyone who was expecting them in a certain place. Right now, the entire scope of their existence was this room right here.

Sam shivered pleasantly as his shirt fell open. Bucky settled back against his hips, running his hands down Sam’s chest–a contrast of warm and cool fingers.

“You’re so Goddamn beautiful,” he breathed. “It’s like something new every time.”

Sam rolled his eyes to distract himself from the blush racing down his cheeks and neck. “You could take a picture,” he suggested. “Would last longer.”

“Yeah, with my memory, that’s probably true.”

Sam snorted, he couldn’t help himself, and dropped his arm over his eyes. “How do you find the most supremely unsexy things to say while you’re undressing me?”

Bucky shifted over him and a few seconds later, Sam heard the shutter of his phone’s camera. “Goddamn piece of artwork,” he reiterated before throwing his phone aside and refocusing on Sam. He leaned over Sam’s body, resting his weight against Sam pointedly. He mouthed at Sam’s neck, traveling up to his earlobe, sucking it between his lips before he whispered, “I’m gonna take you apart all night long, doll.”

Sam shivered roughly and curled one hand against the back of Bucky’s neck, turning his head to catch Bucky’s mouth on his. “You’ve gotta put on a $200,000 show, Barnes,” he taunted.

Sam felt Bucky tense up for a rebuttal. Technically Sam ought to be putting on the show, he knew. But then he felt it all ease back out of Bucky as he decided to pursue better endeavors. With one last lave of his tongue over Sam’s, he sat back against his hips again, grinding against Sam in a subtle, smooth, teasing move, and began to unbutton his own shirt. Sam took the opportunity to shrug out his own clothes quickly.

He didn’t know who had taught Bucky to strip, but the man could do it like a professional. Sam was pretty sure he’d never been more turned on in his entire life. When Bucky reached for Sam’s zipper–his own pants already undone and hanging loose around his hips in a downright sinful tease, Sam couldn’t wait any longer. He flipped them over, pinning Bucky down to the bed so they could each shove their pants out of the way while Sam fell right back into kissing Bucky like it was the only way he could breathe.

“When you walked out onto the roof, I almost dragged you right back down,” Sam breathed, grinding his thigh between Bucky’s. “You looked so good, it was like a mirage. Like a magazine spread come to life.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, a cocky grin coming to his lips. “The suit do it for you, doll?”

“The suit. Your hair. The fact that it was you. I’d been dreading that date. And as soon as I saw you…”

Sam could practically feel Bucky’s self-satisfaction radiating. “As soon as you saw me, what?” he prompted, wiggling his hips until Sam ground down on him again.

“As soon as I saw you, nothing else really mattered,” Sam admitted with a slow, pleased smile of his own. He felt like he’d been holding his breath all night, waiting for Bucky to disappear out of this daydream. And finally something had slotted into place and he decided this was all real.

“Right now, nothing else matters,” Bucky promised with a kiss, then flipped them over again. “Now, about taking you apart,” he purred before putting his mouth back to Sam’s body.

. . .

“What if I just never let you leave?” Bucky suggested late the next morning. Room service was about to stop serving breakfast, which was a shame because they hadn’t made it all the way through the menu yet. Bucky traced a strawberry around Sam’s mouth, dragging his lip down with it before he replaced the strawberry with his own mouth and then started all over again.

Sam was more interested in the powdered sugar on Bucky’s fingers and lips, but he was being remarkably incapable of getting any of it onto his tongue. He’d have thought Bucky got all of the teasing out of his system the night before, but evidently not. “Eventually someone would come looking for me. I only gave Steve the all-clear for one night. And the world’s probably gonna try’n implode soon, so I’ll definitely be missed then.”

Bucky hummed, dragging the strawberry over Sam’s cheek and across his jaw. “$200,000 is a lot of money. I should get two dates, y’know?”

“You only spent $175,000. And I think I earned it last night, huh?”

“Now that’s a high end date,” Bucky teased. He tossed the strawberry back onto the fruit platter and crowded over Sam’s body again, hiding his face against Sam’s warm neck.

They were getting nowhere fast this morning. At least last night had had a plotline, no matter how often they distracted each other. There was a goal to be reached. Several times. But this morning? They were just lazing around, eating more food than room service should ever send to one room, and getting lost in pointless, teasing touches.

“In another world, this is our life,” Bucky pointed out against Sam’s shoulder. “In another world, I’m just wining and dining you all the time. We live in an expensive penthouse and we just have sex all day.”

“In this scenario, where are you getting all your cash for these nights?” Sam amused.

“I dunno. Trading stock. Investing in the 40s and not touching it,” Bucky said with a shrug that jostled Sam’s entire upper body.

“You didn’t know shit about the stock market in the 40s,” Sam argued. “You don’t know shit about it now.”

He felt Bucky grin against his skin and another monumental shrug shook the bed. “Who cares? It’s a fantasy. You’re the important part of it.”

“I live an expensive life, Barnes,” Sam defended simply.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky agreed, squeezing Sam’s hips until he had to stifle a laugh and shift until Bucky. “I know all about your all-organic fruits and veggies diet. I can handle it.”

“It’s a pretty thought,” Sam conceded when he’d freed his hips and gotten Bucky’s hands away from undiscovered tickle spots. “We could get close. If you came back. If you stayed.”

“I can’t,” Bucky sighed. He turned to lay on his side next to Sam, put a hand over his chest so he could circle Sam’s nipple with his thumb as he spoke. “Not yet. There’s too much to do. It’s better if no one knows where I am yet.”

“I could help. You don’t have to do any of this alone.”

Bucky pressed three kisses to Sam’s cheek and jaw. “You do help. You’ve helped so much, Sam. I used to run right towards precipices. Didn’t care how sturdy the ground was. Now I’ve got an anchor behind me. And a guy with wings who can catch me.”

“I ain’t catching you,” Sam argued quickly. “Do you know how much you weigh?”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. They laid there in that quiet for a moment, hearts beating together as their fingers tangled and came apart.

“I will be,” Sam eventually said. “I’ll be your anchor or your wings or whatever you need. You just need to remember that we’re connected. Every anchor has a line. You go down, I’m going down too. And, when you’re ready, you follow that line right back to me. Got it?”

Bucky shifted over him, held his face gently and adoringly. “Sold, doll,” he promised and kissed Sam again.

If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a kudos or comment on AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfic #sbvday2024

[pointdointy]

It's been a while since I posted on here, life gets to you sometimes!

Here are some more reimagines for The Apple Family, all keeping to their original design spare for a few tweaks and add ons. Read more for more info on the Verse!

The Apple Family in this Verse, much like in the show, is a big earth pony family spanning many generations throughout the moons. They are traditional, and strictly stick to routine, as evident by their daily chores and the Zap Apple Harvest. They love each other dearly and would do anything to keep themselves safe and sound.

After watching Brotherhoof Social, and Do Princesses Dream of Sheep?, I find it obvious that Orchard Blossom is something more than a one time joke. It seemed all too planned out to be an attempt to get to spend time with Applebloom, or a mean joke to poke fun at men/boys who want to dress and act femininely. In my AU (still searching for the right name for the verse), Orchard Blossom is a transwoman, rocking multiple southern-belle hairstyles and accessories with the help of Rarity. She does not have to deal with bigot ponies for her gender expression, as being trans is a perfectly accepted and normal thing in Equestria, as is other identities. Made her cutiemark reflect her name better with the big apple and blossoms on the front.

For Applejack, read here!

Applebloom is a young school filly with her whole life ahead of her. She started a band of the CMC, but the group, with helping hooves, found she did not need to spend every waking moment with her friends. In this, she did things she wanted to do; potion brewing and building structures were some of the few hobbies she enjoyed. The group still did their weekly cutiemark crusade, but explored what they needed to find their own cutiemarks rather than random activities that they had never done before. In time, Applebloom was the first to get her cutiemark, fitted with the family's trademark apple, and a bloom, befitting her name.

Granny Smith, the mare who founded Ponyville, could write a book with the stories she tells her grandchildren. It may need a few ghostwriters to keep it on track, however. 

After her son and daughter-in-law's untimely death, Granny Smith took their young foals into open arms and single-hoofedly ran the farm while raising the three trouble-makers. It had been difficult, those first few years, but as Orchard Blossom and Applejack matured, the burden grew less, and Granny Smith could take those long naps her body needed. She keeps a frame picture of Bright Macintosh and Pear Butter on her nightstand, and above the family's hearth, making sure to keep their memory alive and well. Misery did not need to taint their home, even if nightmares plagued her sleep, and Applejack had to wake her from a cold sweat.

Time may heal wounds, but they could not heal scars.

If you enjoy my art, please reblog!

#mlp #mlpfim #my little pony friendship is magic #my little pony #mlpau #mlpverse #mlp next gen #applejack #orchard blossom #applebloom #granny smith #procreate #digitalart #tumblr artists #artists on tumblr #art #original art #reblogs welcome #ok to reblog

[nelkcats]

Romance is (Not) Dead

Little excerpt of chapter 3

Remember the complete story is in Ao3

"So how are you doing?" Jason questioned trying to hide the laugh behind his hand, that obviously wasn't working very well for him, or maybe he didn't care that Danny knew he was laughing, in which case, rude.

"I'm a fucking swan" Danny raised his wings in frustration, annoyed by his companion's amusement "And I'm not even the right color!"

The halfa had never seen a black swan before, although Dani had shown him pictures of some swans she'd encountered on her travels, apparently they could be very docile or extremely aggressive as the situation required. In this case, he felt very aggressive

"If it makes you feel any better, I think you're a very pretty swan" Jason said, holding back the urge to stroke his wings "and you're the right color, for a black swan"

Although Jason had doubts as to why Danny was that color. If he was right and they were in the story he thought, then originally the swan was white, and there was a completely different swan that was the main nemesis of black color. But that was impossible, the ghost wouldn't put them into a non-existent fable, would he?

On second thought, he would totally drag them into a never-before-told story just to see the end result.

He decided not to think about it for the moment, preferring to assume that Danny was stuck as the protagonist of the story and not the antagonist. The black swan did not have a happy ending, and it was never explained if there was a way to break her own curse.

She was quite an odd character, only appearing for a few minutes to ruin the Swan Princess happy ending, but Jason had always thought that maybe she didn't mean to ruin anything, and was just jealous of not having someone to dance with.

Loneliness is harmful enough, he wouldn't be surprised if the black swan only wanted love like the white one, but seeing that the only way to get it was to take it away from her counterpart, she did what he thought was best for her.

Or maybe he was just overanalyzing a dance. In his defense he couldn't help it, it was Cass's favorite dance, she performed it once a year and always requested the presence of her entire family.

The story was so popular that it became a book, and then a movie, but technically it started out as a dance. Jason wondered which of the three had taken Ghostwriter as his inspiration for the current situation.

"That doesn't make me feel better! Black swans even exist!?" Danny looked at him in disbelief, at least it seemed like he was listening to him that time "whatever, we have to figure out how to break this curse"

"I'm pretty sure you just need a kiss" Jason said, avoiding spouting all the information Damian had told him about black swans

"Actually, just leave me like this and release me when you see the Ghostwriter, there's a game I wanna play with him" Danny said after he thought of an excellent solution to his current problem.

"Which is…?" Jason questioned narrowing his eyes. He was suspicious that Danny would resign so quickly and he didn't believe one bit that the emotion showed in that sentence was positive.

"Untitled Ghost Swan Game" Danny said with a bit of sadism, feeling proud of his idea.

#DPxDC #Black Swan Danny #black swan #parody #they are living in Ghostwriter book as a punishment for Danny #Jason is living the best moment of his life #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #I love this chapter you have no idea #Ghostwriter is really OP #dpxdc #romance is not dead #jason todd x danny fenton

[my-favourite-zhent]

Fortune and Favour

Hello folks, a new AU long fic for you.

Summary:

AU set in Luskan 1480DR. Rugan has assumed leadership over the Coin Spinners gang and taken the name Clearlight. When a Waterdhavian noble comes snooping around for Illuskan Netherese relics under the gang's headquarters Rugan steps up to put them in their place. What he instead finds is the chance at an amazing payday and an unexpected prize.

Notes:

This AU is straight out of the filthy mind of @fistfuloftarenths. She head canoned the idea of Rugan of Clearlight based off the screenshots of @captainsigge. Fistful also came up with a lot of the scene ideas, so I'm bordering on being her ghostwriter at this point. Also thank you to @dustdeepsea for helping me with the title and summary. Big shout out to all three for beta reading for me. These fics are pretty much written for the Zhentil Keep Perverts at this point.

Banner by the lovely @coreene

Chapter One below the cut or here on AO3

Chapter One

1480 15 Uktar

Eden of Clearlight was dead, had been for many months now. While she had rallied many of the other gangs to the Coin Spinners banner, she had lost almost as many men in the ensuing chaos. The Coin Spinners had been left adrift, weakened, directionless and Rugan had seen an opportunity.

He’d only been a lieutenant in a lower ranking gang – so low its name does not bear recounting – when Eden had pulled them all into the fold. But now she and most of her officers were dead. There had been a few others that vied for leadership, and all had found a knife in their back. Either each other’s or Rugan’s.

So it came to be that at barely twenty-four Rugan had become the new head of the Coin Spinners, and with it acquired the title Clearlight. So named for the temple-come-fortress that housed them. He had struck decisively at the other criminal organisations before they had gotten their feet back under them. Most had survived but in weakened states. There were few left who would dare challenge him now. Which was why Amnos’ information came as a surprise.

“Some girl’s been asking about you down in the Cutlass,” the redheaded man had said as the pair stood in front of the altar to Tymora that marked the centre of the fortress.

“That right? Looking to get recruited?” Rugan drawled in his lilting Luskan accent. He tilted his head as he spoke, tied back flaxen hair catching gold in the sunlight that trickled through the stained-glass window overhead. It was said to be the last glass window in Luskan, and for which the temple and now Rugan derived their name.

“Doesn't seem like, looked a bit posh to be joining up.” Amnos scratched his beard pensively.

“A noble?” His eyebrow quirked. That was interesting. Not that he had any love for nobles but he’d never heard of one stooping to joining a street gang, especially not in Luskan of all places.

“Seemed so, dressed nice and spoke real educated-like too. Southern accent it sounded like.”

“Who’s she affiliated with?” The thought of a southerner stirring up trouble did give him pause. Kalen Dren, one of the parties who had been involved in the annihilation of the Luskan gangs, had been from Waterdeep and had since returned there. Any locals would’ve known to stay out of Rugan's way.

Amnos shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like she knows the local gangs, we haven’t seen her make contact with anyone. She’s just been reading books when she’s not harassing the locals.”

“Suppose we should pay this little interloper a visit then. We can’t have just anyone trading on my good name.” He smiled shark-like.

+++++

The Cutlass was one of the busier inns. In the city’s heyday it had been a sight to behold. Still turned a profit as it was, but much like Luskan it’s glory days were long past. The timbers were old and rotted, and its windows were made of thin sheets of animal horn rather than glass.

A nervous silence had fallen over the taproom when Rugan and Amnos entered and he felt a smile play at the corner of his mouth. There was power there, in being feared. Rugan’s exploits against the other guilds had been cutthroat and his reputation well earned. He had little interest in the common folk though. These customers had no reason to fear him as long as they didn’t cross him, but there was no need to tell them that.

He nodded at Amnos to wait for him down here before ascending the stairs to the inn’s rooms. The girl had been under watch for a few days now and his men had informed him of which room was hers. He knocked at the door. Whatever this little noble wanted, he'd be sure to send them packing.

The door swung open and there she stood. Little was right, she barely came up to his chest. But gods, she was beautiful. With soft raven waves cascading past her shoulders, a small but perky bust and a delicate waist that was begging to be grasped.

“Heard you've been asking around about Clearlight, lass.”

It was meant to be intimidating, well, just a touch to start. In her excitement the girl didn't seem to notice. She clasped her hands together under her chin and looked at him with wide eyes.

“You know about the Clearlight temple?” The delight in her voice was unmasked. Her eyes were sparkling, and they were lovely too, framed by thick dark lashes.

The girl’s reaction was the exact opposite of what he had intended, and he felt himself swallow unexpectedly. She grasped his hand in both of hers.

“Oh, do please come in!” She began pulling him into the room without waiting for a reply. Rugan allowed this, but not without some trepidation. Was this a trap set by a rival faction?

“I'd love to hear your opinion on the maps. It took a while to piece them together.” She ushered him towards a table that looked like the victim of a mad cartographer. Several maps were scattered over its surface, weighted down with pebbles. He could see underneath was a larger sheet that had connections between these disparate pieces drawn in.

“Now, no one source had all the sections of the undercity of course. What information we have on Netheril and Illusk is fragmented at best. But based on the complete diagrams from various other Netherese ruins we know that the general floorplan of a Netherese vault house follows a distinct pattern…” The girl had taken a seat at the table and continued to chatter on, but she had lost him a while ago. He sat down in the opposite chair, scrutinising her as she spoke. 

A thin braid encircled the crown of her head, adding a touch of order to the chaos that was her hair. Her blouse looked to be of a fine cotton, with ruffled trim along a neckline that dipped deliciously low. He admired how the swell of her breasts peaked out from beneath her top. It was cinched under her bust by a green velvet jacquard corset, laced up the front. Her pants were tan leather, they looked smooth and barely worn. Amnos had been right, entirely too posh to be a recruit. Some noble out of Baldur’s Gate or Waterdeep mayhaps?

“I keep asking about the temple but no one seems to want to talk about it. You'd think it was dedicated to Beshaba rather than Tymora with how skittish the locals have been.”

“People can be a bit superstitious here in Luskan,” he offered, inwardly grinning at his good fortune. 

She was a complete and utter fool. For all her research she had neglected to look into the local criminal organisations before coming to Luskan. Of course she didn't know that the Coin Spinners had taken the temple as their base, and that he had taken its name for his own.

“Ah, forgive my manners. I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Isolde.” She held out her hand for him to shake.

“Rugan.” He replied, taking her hand and raising it to place a kiss upon it.

She was taken aback, eyes wide with surprise.

‘Didn't think a guttersnipe like me knew how to address a noble lady, did ya?’ Rugan was both rankled by the thought and smug that he had proved her wrong. 

He noticed a blush creep over her cheeks and how she seemed to be appraising him now as if noticing him for the first time. He felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. No, it was more than surprise, she was flattered.

“P-pleased to meet you,” she managed to eke out.

“Indeed.”

Then, just as quickly, it seemed his hold on her was broken by a sudden recollection.

“Ah I almost forgot! The onion skin!”

“Onion skin?” 

But she was already out of her seat and rooting through her pack. She returned with a roll of paper that when unfurled was semi translucent. He supposed it did resemble the skin of an onion.

Carefully she placed it overtop the other maps, pinning it down based on some landmarks only she perceived. There was a map on the onion skin he realised. Tymora’s tits, this was—

“It's the blueprint for Tymora’s temple. The clerics in Waterdeep let me take a look at their copy. Took a bit of maths to get it to scale with the others but luckily the walls are mostly square. Mind you, this is from when it was built in the 1370s, there's no way to tell what it looks like now over a hundred years later. At least not short of going in yourself.”

Now this was something. It galled him to think that a map of the hideout had just been floating around in some Waterdeep temple for any preening noble to come have a little look-see.

“And these markings here?” He gestured to the map, careful to keep his tone neutral.

There were four circles and three crosses marked on the onion skin which lined up with structures on the maps below. He already had a sneaking suspicion what they were based on their locations.

“Passages down to Illusk. The circles are confirmed, cross-referenced with some old journal entries of a priestess I found in Candlekeep library.” 

She was correct, two were caved in, but the remaining pair the Coin Spinners had heavily trapped and kept watch over. Never knew what manner of sneak or beast would come up from the undercity.

“And the crosses are unconfirmed?”

“Right, I couldn't find any historical records that mention them specifically, but based on the fact that the first four correspond with the Netherese designs, I think it's safe to assume there would be a temple counterpart for the remaining three. Two of them are connected to a hidden inner chamber while the third connects to the high priest’s chambers, which would explain why they weren't widely known. I mean, it's just a hunch, but I'm fairly confident.”

She looked proud, and he supposed she had reason to be, having found three unguarded entrances to slip into his lair.

“Why would the temple builders create passages, and not just loot the undercity?”

“They may have already looted it or attempted to. But I suspect the temple's location would be particularly auspicious, sitting on top of a coin house. The number of passages also suggests this—seven was considered lucky in many human cultures.” She mused.

There was a sharp whistle and they both started from their chairs.

“Shit, the kettle.” She hurried over to the opposite table where a ceramic kettle bedecked with runes was steaming. Nobles and their magic toys.

“Would you like some tea?” She called over her shoulder.

“Oh, aye.”

Rugan took the opportunity to consider his next steps. He had come here expecting an upstart wanting to buy their way into the guild, or perhaps some imposter trading on his name. Either one he would've cowed or killed, depending on how much he disliked them. He was certainly prepared to dislike some preening noble.

But, technically she was innocent of any crime outside general nosiness. If anything it was his good luck that he had found her before some rival did. He could just take the map but that left the girl as a loose end. 

Rugan watched as she prepared two cups of tea. Killing her would be easy enough, but it would be simpler to find the entrances with her know-how.

‘Besides,’ he thought, as she tucked her hair behind her ear revealing more of her slender neck, ‘Noble or not, it would be a crime to remove such a pretty thing from the world.’

She returned with the two cups, and he noted she had left two sugar cubes on his saucer. Sugar had been a luxury in Luskan of late, seemed like more and more things were luxuries nowadays.

“My thanks.” He accepted the cup politely and dropped both cubes in before stirring. “You bring all this with you from Waterdeep?”

“Yes, that's right. Generally prefer to travel light but the merchants I know in the city were of the consensus that it’s a bit harder to get supplied in Luskan, and in any case it was just the one boat up.” She took the seat beside him and sipped at her tea.

“Not too long of a trip I hope?”

“A little more than half a tenday by galley. Not long at all.”

He nodded and took a deep draught of the tea. Rugan was no deckhand, but you don’t grow up in the city of sails without learning a thing or two about ships. A galley was one of the fastest and most expensive ships to book passage on, just one way may have run her fourty or fifty gold pieces. Definitely moneyed, maybe a merchant family out of Waterdeep? She might fetch a nice ransom. No servants though, at least none that Amnos had observed. This wasn’t entirely unusual with tourists who thought part of the fun was ‘roughing it’ . Especially if they were stingy tourists.

“I’m being rude again, I’ve forgotten to ask about your interest in the temple.” And she really did look sorry.

“Well I live there for one.”

“Live there!” She straightened in her chair. “But the clerics in Waterdeep, they said the clergy has long since abandoned Clearlight temple.”

“We’re not really associated with the Waterdeep branch. None of the large organisations have any interest in Luskan since the Spellplague. You could say we’re a bit esoteric compared to most Tymorans.” Rugan didn’t consider himself a particularly good liar, but the girl hadn’t seemed to have noticed.

She was leaning in close now, barely containing her excitement. “So you’ve been inside? You’ve seen the passageways?” He could smell her hair now, it was like jasmine and orange peels.

“Aye lass, some of them. Most are collapsed but those new ones on your map I haven’t seen before. Could be worth an investigation.” The girl was almost leaping out of her chair, this was too easy.

“Would you permit me to come look?” Her voice had already been high but it seemingly shifted a whole octave up now. “I promise not to disturb anything, and of course there would be a split of anything found down there.”

He let his features fall into a charming smile. “Well, if you're promising.” Of course the split would be highly in his favour, if he let her keep anything at all. Unlikely.

It was his lucky day, Tymora be praised. He was going to secure the fortress, possibly a payday and—he let his gaze linger on her a moment—a bit of company if he played his cards right.

She must have noticed his stare, noticed how close they were because her cheeks were reddening and it seemed like her breath was caught in her throat.

“Are you a treasure hunter, then?” Her cup was no longer steady in her hand and he gently took it from her, placing it on the table.

“N-no, just a student. I've been writing my graduation thesis on Illusk.”

“And the treasures they left behind?” He leaned in closer as well so they were mere inches apart. 

“It's the records I'm interested in.” Her voice was quieter now, it had a breathy quality to it.

“Not the coin?” She merely shook her head and he reached forward to palm her cheek. When she didn't protest, Rugan felt confident in his approach. She was younger than him, not by much, but enough that combined with a sheltered upbringing she was likely inexperienced in these things.

“Seems to me, if we're going to be working together we should get to know one another a little better. Don't you agree?”

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