#I would just like to say that I KNOW that there are scenes where Sam slices his arm but for some reason I couldn't find any

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Big News

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey!” You bounce up to the table. It’s funny how Bucky can look so intent. So gloomy in the midst of the bustling cafe. He sits up as he puts his phone down on the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got great news!” 

“Oh?” His brows lower, “well, you’re double sugar frappa-whatever is melting.” 

He points across the table as you sit and roll your eyes. 

“If you tried it, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. They are delicious!” You put your purse in your lap and take a long slurp through the straw. You pop your lips off and let out and ‘ahhhhh’. You smile at him as he gives you that look. 

“I don’t take sugar in my coffee and you barely take coffee in your sugar,” he drones. 

You giggle. He's always so grumpy about the smallest things. 

“News?” He prompts dully. 

“Right,” you wiggle in your seat. “I got you a date!” 

He twitches and tilts his head, “a date?” He gives you a cautious look and shifts in his seat. “Uh...” 

“Yes! This lawyer lady I know. I met her at a trivia night way back and added her on Insta. Well, I saw her post the other day and I was like how did I not think of this before?” 

“Lawyer?” He mutters. “I... you’re setting me up with a stranger?” 

“It’s a blind date. It’s fun. She’s really established and smart and beautiful. Oh my god, she posted this picture of her in a bikini—I could never wear something like that.” You get your phone out and he sighs. 

“Wait, why did you do that?” He grits. 

You look above the screen at him, “well, you said the other day that you get lonely. That’s why you have Alpine, right? And she’s so sweeeeet,” you drag out the word in adoration, “but you need someone you can talk to. Who can talk back.” 

“We talk,” he insists. 

“Yes, but we’re friends. You need someone your own age. Or closer to.” 

“Wait, how old is she?” He wonders. 

“Aha, you’re interested,” you point at him accusatorily. 

“I’m asking questions.” 

“Right, she’s... fifty something? She doesn’t look it. Like you. You don’t look... uh... 1917... carry the one...”  

“Stop that,” he demands. “I know how goddamn old I am.” 

“Ha, yeah, sorry, I...” you scroll through your Insta friends. “Here!” You turn the phone to him and beam a smile in his direction. He glances at it for a split second and shrugs. He sits back and drinks his coffee.

“I’m not really... in that scene,” he says. 

“You should get out there! I mean, you can’t bring Sam and Steve to dinner all the time. You need someone--” 

“Is this what it’s about? Because I showed up at the restaurant?” He asks. 

“No, it’s-- I’m being a friend. You two are so alike and she loves old movies and motorcycles. I could never! I'd fall off or not tie my helmet right,” you chuckle. 

“Dreamy,” he growls. 

“Bucky,” you whine back. “You gotta get out and have some fun.” 

“We have fun,” he counters. 

“We do and that’s awesome—Oh, okay, how about, I got an idea! A double date.” 

“A double—you have... a boyfriend?” He taps the porcelain cup with his metal fingertip. 

“Ha, no way. But I could find someone to come along. Just so you’re not alone. There’s a few guys at the restaurant I’m sure would go for a free meal or I mean I know other cute girls. I’m not picky.” 

He closes his eyes and a line forms between his brows. He pinches his nose and squares his shoulders. “Where the hell did you come up with the idea that I wanted to date?” 

“I...” you sit back and your smile falls. His blue eyes flick open as he drops his hand. The dimple in his cheek ticks. “I’m sorry, I thought it was—I was... trying to be a good friend.” 

He stares at you and the stone slowly eases from his jaw. He looks down and back up. He huffs. 

“I’m sorry, dreamy,” he says, “it’s just been a while for me. Not that I haven’t thought of it, you know? But I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head and glances around the cafe. “The last time I dance with a dame was a goddamn USO tour in 1945.” 

That hits you like a sixteen-wheeler. You didn’t know that. You didn’t think of it. He’s been in this world for a while and he’s handsome and a superhero! You just though he’d have lots of people interested. Charlize sure seemed excited when you asked. 

“And now you’re looking at me like I’m a loser because I haven’t kissed a gal in 80 years--” 

“No, you’re not a loser. If you are, then I am.” 

“Come on, you don’t gotta--” 

“Really. I never kissed anyone. Not lying.” 

He shakes his head and scoffs, “oh no, you’re not lying to make me feel better.” 

You put on your most sober face, “Bucky, I swear,” your cheeks burn and you put your hands on your neck. “I mean... it would be nice I’m sure but it just never came up.” He looks at you quietly. You squirm. “I know you can hear that I’m telling the truth.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he accepts at last. He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, “fine. If you’re going to suffer through it, I will too.” He looks away as his jaw tenses, “if you’re going to keep pulling that puppy dog face, one day, it’s gonna wear off.” 

“Yes! Bucky’s got a date! Bucky’s got a date!” You sing out of tune. 

“Stop,” he snarls and narrows his eyes at you. You wince and giggle.  

“Yay!” You put your hands up in a demure celebration and he tuts. 

“You’re so cheesy,” he sneers. 

“And you’re a party pooper. No moping on date night, got it?” You try to put on a stern face and he squints even harder. Finally, he cracks and gives a chuckle. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he sniffs. “You and tough, don’t go together.” 

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |2|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.

Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.

“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”

“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.

Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”

“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.

Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.

“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.

“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”

“And someone can verify this?”

“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”

“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”

“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”

“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”

“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”

Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.

“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”

“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”

“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”

Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.

“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.

Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.

Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.

“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”

Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.

“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”

“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.

“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online.”

“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.

“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.

“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”

Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.

“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.

“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”

“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.

“I haven’t.”

“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.

“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”

“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”

“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”

Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.

“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”

Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.

“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.

Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.

After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.

Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.

Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.

When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.

“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.

“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.

Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.

Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.

“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”

Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.

“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”

“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.

“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself

She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.

Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.

“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”

Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.

Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”

“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”

Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”

“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”

Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.

Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.

“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.

Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.

Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998

[sbd-laytall]

[quietwingsinthesky]

so because nick was able to almost raise lucifer from the empty, we really have to assume that anyone could do it. like all he had was some determination and a hammer, and he could have pulled it off. so. what im saying is that this leads us to assume that in-universe, dean just didnt feel like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[ectonurites]

SUPER DARK TIMES (2017) DIR. KEVIN PHILLIPS

[abutterflyobsession]

I pull out so many random facts about the making of Lord of the Rings that people usually respond with, 'how do you even know that?!'

oh, friend.

my brother, a most pretentious lotr fan, snatched up the extended edition hot off the shelf and for weeks it was the only thing on the tv all day long. I've seen every commentary, every special feature . . . twice. maybe more. I didn't have a choice.

[coldflasher]

also i will admit that barry being tricked into throwing a full-force lightning bolt at iris and hitting her with every single bit of the godlike strength he’s been building up all season was a really good twist. very reminiscent of gwen’s death in TASM, very poignant, had the potential to be really emotionally devastating plot... if they hadn’t done such a piss-poor job of building up to it. idk how they all fumbled this one so badly, like unanimously fucked up what should have been this massively devastating moment

like first of all, they spent half the season completely downplaying westallen’s relationship and iris’ importance as a whole. they have done her a HUGE fucking disservice this season, honestly. like we know how important she is. we saw literally just 2 seasons ago that when iris disappeared and was replaced, barry did not fucking rest until he had figured out how to get her back, to the point where he did some extremely deranged things in order to get her out of the mirrorverse. but in this season everyone was literally like “iris is missing? well she’ll turn up, i guess :/ ”

like i really liked the curious case of bartholomew allen, it was a really fun ep, but they were playing DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS while iris was trapped in some fucking alternate time loop dimension. i’m sorry, if you told barry that some future version of himself was playing D&D and getting his cheeks pinched by old ladies while iris was missing, he would hunt that version of himself down and punch him so fucking hard??

and it’s like okay, so the writing of the show these days is often Not Great. i have come to accept this as an unfortunate fact of life. but we can at least generally rely on the cast to deliver a good performance. they do the best they can with what they have, you know? and all credit to them for delivering some of this godawful material and actually pulling off a very good performance that almost makes you forget how much the writing sucks

except apparently now we can’t even trust them to do that because i just watched mr barry allen accidentally electrocute his own wife and not shed a SINGLE TEAR.

we know grant can act so why the FUCK did he not give it a bit more oomph in this scene. like. barry is fighting the negative forces, they have godlike power, so he is giving it all he’s got. and just as he hits the peak and throws all of this deadly lightning, at the moment it leaves his fingertips and he no longer has any control over it, iris appears in its path. there is literally nothing he can do to stop it, it’s too late, and he is powerless to do anything but look on in horror as iris takes the full force of what is maybe the most powerful blow the flash has ever dealt

and THIS is the reaction we get?

like sorry, i saw him get more upset over the fucking mug that joe broke in season 1. what the hell is this??

this is IRIS we’re talking about. when savitar killed her in season 3, barry was fucking screaming his throat raw, clinging to her, tears streaming down his face. take a look at these two scenes and tell me they are even REMOTELY comparable. i dare you

when savitar killed iris, barry was DESTROYED and that wasn’t even his fault. you’re telling me that he could deliver the death blow HIMSELF, shoot a bajillion bolts of lightning into her chest, and then not shed a single tear? grant gets paid too much money to phone it in like that, i’m sorry

[tossawary]

One of my personal nitpicks for historical fantasy is a lack of servants, staff, subordinates, and... idk... subjects? Like, their absence is not... a total dealbreaker for me, depending on the situations the characters are in and whether or not I can just assume that other people are there in the background... but so many of the protagonists in historical fantasy stuff are higher-ranking (very often royalty), and/or have busy jobs, and/or have enormous houses that would necessitate having at least part-time staff.

Like, girl, you should have a maid! WHERE is your chaperone?! WHO is driving this carriage?! Where are your footmen? Are you trying to imply that a WEALTHY DUCHESS is taking a CAB?! You know that you probably have tenants, right? Where is your steward?! Where is your lawyer? Your accountant?! (Like, yeah, you're not going to have your lawyer living in your house, but you HAVE one, right???)

Or, man, you're supposed to be a military commander and you don't even have a single secretary?! Where is your SQUIRE?! (In the spirit of historical fiction, I am jumping wildly across time periods with every sentence here.) Man, I know you aren't looking after your own boots. Where are your GUARDS?! Who set up this tent for you?! Who is looking after your horse?! Who is making and carrying the incredibly valuable maps people are recklessly stabbing daggers into?!

SOMEONE has to be scrubbing these floors and delivering the mail and cooking the meals and doing laundry, and they're probably all DIFFERENT people! My dentist has at least three different receptionists and we can't even get ONE for our court wizard here? A sorcerer's apprentice to take notes? Someone like Sherlock Holmes could get away with just having a housekeeper and taking taxis, sure, but your character is supposed to be a KING?! Why is he answering his own front door? He's going to get assassinated. His SERVANTS should have SERVANTS.

Like, yes, I understand that a lot of servants in certain places at certain times were supposed to make their labor invisible, but there have always been servants who still had to interact directly with the masters of the house?! Yeah, there are potentially really messy ethics here, class divisions are bullshit, but I don't think that completely ignoring the reality that humans have ALWAYS been doing work for other humans is better than just including some well-paid and well-treated servants and employees? Because a complete absence of them, especially where logically for the worldbuilding there MUST be servants (and probably exploited servants, or worse, for some particular worldbuilds to work), often makes me think that your main characters just don't care enough to notice the "lower class" people or know their names.

Also, even Frodo Baggins had a gardener and Samwise Gamgee might be the best damn character in the story?! Sam saved the world?! Servants are PEOPLE. Servants are often the funniest and most interesting characters, tbh, with the most to say about a society and its workings (yes, Discworld is a very good book series, highly recommend), and also the joke of some romantic scene being carefully orchestrated by a stage crew of servants frantically diving into bushes to stay out of sight never gets old to me. Teamwork makes the dream work!

I don't want to gatekeep historical fiction, especially not historical fantasy, because the worlds don't necessarily have to conform to our own and may have magic and characters are often in very unique circumstances, but... sometimes I pick up a story and it's like... "Author, please tell me that you know there is a difference between a butler and a valet?!"

[cryptidcasanova]

Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.  

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."  

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

[ectospacecadet]

-[Danny’s Powers]-

So we all know Danny’s got a lot of powers, but I feel like a lot of people underestimate how powerful he really is, let’s compare a scene from S1 to S2. Specifically “My Brother’s Keeper” and “Kindred Spirits”.

So Danny in the first clip is angry, so angry he amps up the power of his ghost ray mid-blast, this is just 4 episodes after he gets this power. He’s still learning to use it so this is probably as strong as he can make it currently.

In the 2nd clip Danny totally wipes out everything in a several foot radius, which is way stronger than what his ghost ray was in S1. I decided to do a quick bit of calculation just to see how far Danny shot that ghost ray.

See I initially thought “eh, maybe 30-40 feet” but nope, if Danny’s at least 5ft tall then that puts the blast radius somewhere between 65-70 feet, including the tail of the blast where it would just fade out. That’s with the ground in the way which adds friction, meaning the blast could go much further by possibly 40-50 feet if shot clear off the ground, maybe even further as that’s only scraping along the bottom section of the blast.

I also love Danny’s reaction to this, because even he’s like ‘whoa’ at what he just did, you can hear the panicked breaths in there too, he’s freaking out. This episode also takes place after TUE, so Danny being afraid of his power makes sense here. He’s hurt people with it before: his parents, Sam, Tucker, Valerie and Dash (though he wanted to do that).

Imagine if someone was within that blast range? They’d be more than dead, they’d be erased.

So after seeing that, yeah, I’d get out of there too. If someone saw Danny Phantom could do that in a public space with no evidence of a ghost attack where people are, who knows what they’d say about him in the media?

[dcxdpdabbles]

There are so many fics out there where Danny is either adopted by or the biological son of Bruce. In many of these he might have an existential crisis but other wise he is fine and happy to be part of the BatFam. Where are the ones where he fights against this just doesn't want to connect with Bruce of the rest of the family.

One: Bruce is a billionaire and Danny has had some bad experience with Vlad trying to adopt/get him as a son. So even if Bruce is one of "the good ones" Danny does't like billionaires.

Two: Danny for the most part grew up in a mostly normal family and home, with two Parents and a sibling. Most of the BatFam were only children and parents are dead or came from dysfunctional homes. I think Duke is the only one who really had a normal childhood.

Three: The Fenton family is pretty openly affectionate with each other and are pretty normal emotionally. Danny has a great relationship with all of them (Danny went evil in the timeline where they all died). Most of the Batfam is emotionally constipated.

Four: Danny is used to his boundaries being respected. I don't think that the Batfam is great at that. With Bruce needing to know everything, Tim's stalking tendencies, Barbra's hacking, just to name the obvious.

Danny knew that he was adopted into the Fentons. His parents had never hidden it from him, but they never treated him as anything besides their child.

He had come into their lives one day when one of Maddie's old high school friends had called, bawling that she had gotten pregnant and that her husband wasn't the father. He had discovered the truth and thrown her out, leaving her pregnant and alone on the streets of Gotham.

Maddie had been furious at the affair- she hated disloyalty- but had decided to help her only for the baby's sake.

She had driven over multiple state lines back to her home city to pick up the friend only to find out she had taken her life and left her newborn son to Maddie. While Maddie had been able to escape the hellhole that was Gotham, Rebecca never got the chance, not with her average intelligence.

In high school, the two were as close as sisters until Rebecca fell into the whisky bottles her father carelessly left around. She blossomed into a beautiful woman upon their graduation- more so than Maddie-, turning from a sweet homebody into someone who got into exclusive parties and powerful men.

Maddie had slowly drifted away from her, so far away at college, and Rebecca fell further and further into the party scene. It was a surprise that she settled down for marriage and Maddie truly believed that she had been happy with her husband.

That's why Danny was such a surprise. Maddie did not know who Danny's biological father was, but she did not care. Not after they placed the sobbing infant into her arms, and she realized that she was his mother now.

She immediately phoned Jack to tell him what had happened, and he told Jazz she was a big sister before the call ended. They told him the story about when he started to learn his colors. Not with her taking her life, of course; that was when Danny turned fourteen. This was only a few days before Danny revealed he was Phantom to them.

They were first shocked, but then they became supportive. Phantom now had two proud ghost hunters following him, shooting photos instead of guns.

It was embarrassing, but it was also nice of them.

And that was that. Danny is a Fenton, adopted, but a child of Maddie and Jack Fenton all the same.

He never gave his biological parents a thought. In fact, he all but forgot about them until Sam convinced him to take an ancestry test. He had allowed her to swipe his mouth, package his DNA, and send it off to see where his people came from, completely forgetting that he would not match with Jazz, who had done the same thing a month prior.

His results were shocking, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, Rebecca Silver had been in the system of DNA samples, and they had matched him to her alongside his biological father.

Bruce Wayne. Rebecca had an affair with Bruce Wayne, arguably one of the wealthiest men in the country, and they had sent him a message to let him know he matched with his son.

An eccentric billionaire has just been told that Danny was his. He knew that song and dance well, and it was never fun to dance to. Danny could only stare at the results with dread as Sam apologized profoundly.

"Maybe he won't see it." Tucker tried. "I mean, Wayne is probably so busy with rich people stuff he doesn't have time to even look at his emails. Especially ones that will come in spam since it's comersolized."

"Yeah, Maybe" Danny doesn't think he's that lucky.

A month later, the Fenton's home phone rings. His parents are working on a new invention on the dinning room table, Danny is stretched out in front of the TV watching a mindless cartoon and Jazz is crocheting in the love chair.

It's a typical Tuesday night where everyone is doing their own thing but close enough to each other that they can call it family time. Jazz is the closest to the house phone so she picks it up with a cheerful "Fenton house, this is Jasmine."

Her smile slowly slips away as all the blood drains from her face. Alarmed by her reaction, Danny sits up. "Jazz? What's wrong?"

His words have his parents' heads snapping up, zoning in on their daughter's rapidly growing destress. Yes, they get distracted often with their work, but the Fentons have always been loving parents.

They quickly spring into action.

"Jazzy-pants?" His dad says, walking up to her and taking the phone from her slack hand. He covers the speaking end of it, not paying attention to the call as his mom hugs his sister. "What's the matter?"

"It's... Bruce Wayne's lawyer," Jazz says faintly. "He's calling about Danny. He said that Mr. Wayne has been attempting to take Danny back and that they are going to take us to court soon."

The room goes dead quiet, and Danny snorts. "He can't do that without a letter or something. Come on Jazz, it's obviously a prank."

Someone at school likely found out and thought it would be funny to make "the biggest loser of Casper High" Danny Fenton, think a billionaire wanted him as a son. Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the A-listers.

He laughs to show how stupid this prank is, but neither of his parents joins him. Instead, his mother closes her eyes and whispers, "We received his court papers weeks ago. We've been trying to get a lawyer."

What.

She pushes Jazz into his dad's arms, where his sister is slowly panicking. His dad tries to soothe her as his mom opens the drawer under the TV, pulling out three orange envelopes. She looks remorseful as she hands them to Danny. "We didn't want you to worry. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. Vlad said he would help, but he wasn't sure what he could do against such a powerful man"

And there, in overly complicated terms, is clear as day. Bruce Wayne wanted full custody of Danny Fenton and was willing to take the Fentons to court to get it done.

The man- who has never so much as met Danny, much less have a right to say what happens to him- was accusing his parents of child abuse and child neglect! He not only was trying to take Danny away but Jazz as well!

Where did this man get the audacity!?

"I don't want to go with him!" He shouts rage, making his eyes glow green. "I don't even know him!"

"I know, sweetie. I won't let him take you" His mom says, yanking him into a protective hug, and he realizes that her shirt is getting wet with his tears. Tears that fall just like the woman who raised him. "Everything will be alright."

It won't be, he knows, but he won't tell her that. He just lets his mother hold him, and when his sister and father crash into the hug a second later, he holds them just as tight.

He's not sure how they will win against Bruce Wayne, but Danny will fight his biological father every step of the way. He will not be his son.

______________________________________________________________

Bruce stares at the photo of Danny Fenton- his son. His boy, whom he wasn't aware was alive until a month ago- and the reports from concerned teachers and whatever information Barbra could pull from his classmate's social media.

Dramatically dropping grades.

Clear signs of sleepless nights.

Flinches whenever his parents pull out "ghost hunting" gear.

Strange bruises and cuts along his arms and legs.

His small stature is no longer growing properly like his peers.

It all pointed to one thing. The Fentons were abusing his son and Bruce would bet the sister was suffering from the same treatment if her own grade dropping, sleepless eyes, and desperate race to adulthood were any indication.

Bruce laces his hands, resting his chin on them as the Batcomputer slowly flips through various reports being quickly dismissed by incompetent social workers who all claim it was Ghost Hunter related and not a cause for concern.

Those same social workers all seemed to have gotten quite generous donations from one Vlad Masters, a well-known family friend of the Fentons.

He hates corruption that allows children to be hurt, more so when it;'s his own children.

"When do we go retrieve Brother?" Damian asks, green eyes narrowing in rage as the reports scroll slowly. Ever since he found out Danny is a blood sibling, all Damian has been talking about is getting his elder brother home. "I am displeased with how long it's been, Father."

"Soon," Bruce promises, aware the rest of his children gather around him. They don't speak, but he feels their protective rage at what Danny has gone through, and he knows they will use every last bit of their training to get Danny home. "Either through the courts or in person. Danny will be with us come summer."

"Good," grunts Jason. "I'll have a little chat with his adoptive scumbags when we get him."

"I'll help," Dick tacks on.

"I'll make it look like an accident," Tim says, voice leveled but eyes blazing as the reports get to the neglect section. He has personal issues about that.

Bruce has never been so proud. "Court date is set for three weeks. They can't weasel their way out of it this time."

Don't worry son, he thinks to Danny, I'm going to save you.

[starry-bi-sky]

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

[incorrectbatfam]

If the batfam had tiktok what would they post? What would go the most viral?

Dick does duets where he remixes people who have bad takes. His most viewed one is turning Lex Luthor's corporate monologue into a dubstep track with beat drops every time Superman is mentioned. Equally popular is his mashup of Bruce's yawning with a Sam Smith song.

Jason makes cooking videos. The recipes are normal, but the voiceovers like, "today I'm making a realistic animal-themed vegan bento box 'cause I wanna torment my brother." His most popular video is of him shit-talking Batman while making a pot roast, but it gets deleted because he didn't say "unalive."

Tim does behind-the-scenes videos of his photoshoots where he makes it seem like a complex process with dimmed lights and glitter falling from a ceiling fan, then it cuts to a blurry iPhone pic of a pissed-off Jason with sparkly hair chasing him down a dark hallway.

Damian's is a mix of animal videos, art tutorials, Cheese Viking speedruns, and classical covers of anime intros. But his most popular one is recording his family's reaction to him saying the fuck-word for the first time. He also has a series where he asks people how babies are made to see whose response TikTok takes down first.

Duke posts subtle and wholesome pranks, like leaving Tooth Fairy money under the older batkids' pillows or gradually filling Kate's purse with Jolly Ranchers. His most popular series is when he slowly replaced Damian's furniture with increasingly smaller replicas until the 8th day when Damian finally notices.

Steph does a little bit of everything and often takes suggestions (re: dumb dares) from the comments. Her account started with her just sharing her favorite memes, but her most popular video is when she slept in a bathtub full of Mardi Gras necklaces after an audience poll.

Cass normally posts a mix of dance covers and sign language lessons, but occasionally there will be moments from her daily life that she captures at the right time. Her most viral video is at the grocery store when someone accidentally knocks a coconut onto the ground and she follows it as it rolls to the other end of the store.

Harper and Cullen do a lot of backyard science experiments where they take hypotheses from comments and test them out, like if they can cook steak with firecrackers or make a trampoline out of rubber bands. Their biggest project was turning an abandoned pool into a frog sanctuary.

Barbara keeps most of her daily videos private and her public ones are mainly book hauls, song recs, and computer tips. Her most popular video, even making news articles, is a video where she breaks down how planned obsolesce works and calling out big tech companies.

Bruce has a secret account that no one knows about. He doesn't post anything. He just lurks because he wants to be the first like and comment whenever his kids post.

[imauthicktic]

❤️‍🔥10

Sorry if this is a bit long, but maybe it could start something like this?

Y/N visits Sam at college with Optimus, who might've came with to harass Sam about helping like an alternative to the scene where they meet at the graveyard. Leo follows Sam out, probably harassing him about the website or whatnot, and basically just kinda stops like "You didn't tell me your sister was hot!" before running up ahead to hit on her, with Sam having his fifth mental breakdown of the day. Optimus isn't happy with Sam's dormmate, to say the least.

First request for the 1000+ follower event!!! Yippie!!!

Bayverse! Optimus Prime x fem!AFAB!human! Reader

OP in love with Sam's friend who is like an older sister of Sam is my favorite trope 😌💅🏻

Smut smut smut!!!

Warnings: size-difference! tried to keep this realistic so no penetrative sex. cock humping, clit stimulation. messy cum 🥴 Also cheesy flirtations from Leo

You were sitting inside Optimus who was in his semi-trailer form as you both waited for Sam to come out of his dorm building so you could surprise him. “You think he’ll be excited to see me, Optimus?” you ask softly, “I know it’s only been one day since he’s been here, but I was so upset I couldn’t help him move in,” you say with a small hint of guilt in your voice. 

“My dear sweet spark, Sam would be happy to see you,” Optimus said in his soothing deep voice in reassurance through his radio. You smile before affectionately rubbing your hand over his steering wheel. You open your mouth to say something when you see Sam walking out of the building with his roommate in tow. “Oh, look! He’s coming out!” you say happily as you scramble out of Optimus. 

“Sam!” You call out to him, effectively grabbing his attention. “Y/N?” Sam says happily as he sees you waving over to him with Optimus chilling behind you with his engine revving. Sam rushes over to pull you into a big hug as he lifts you slightly in his tight embrace. You can't help but giggle brightly as you wrap my arms around his neck tightly. “God, I’m the worst big sister ever-,” you start before you get rudely interrupted by Leo’s low wolf whistle making you pull back from the hug and look at him with a raised brow. “Damn, Sam! You didn’t tell me your sister was a babe,” Leo says as he pushes Sam to the side a bit as Leo grabs your hand to kiss your knuckles, “I’m Leo, Sam’s roommate, and hopefully your future husband,” Leo winks. Sam watches the scene unfold as he tries not to burst out laughing at the clear disgust on your face. Optimus is fuming at the scene knowing you're not exactly enjoying the flirt. Your brows raise in shock as you pull your hand away from him. “Charmed,” you say sarcastically as you wipe your knuckles on Sam’s shirt. You turn back to Sam, “Anyways, hon. My husband,” you pause to look at Leo as you lift your hand with your wedding band on it that you wear to fend off creepy men then look back at Sam, “wanted to talk to you. He said it was urgent. So, go get Bee and meet up with us,” you say in a more relaxed tone as you look at Sam. Sam can't help but chuckle lightly before realizing you're talking about Optimus and he let out a sigh. “Really? I can’t have one day?” Sam asks exasperated. “Nope!” you say as you pop the ‘p’, “And you know you can’t really say no to me and I’m not exactly asking,” you finish with a cheeky smile before walking over to Optimus and getting inside. “See you soon!” you say sweetly. 

“Wait! Here’s my number in case your husband doesn’t work out or if you want some spice in your life,” Leo says as he hands you a folded-up piece of paper and he blows you a kiss. Optimus’ engine revs loudly in annoyance at Leo’s insistence. You look at him incredulously and can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, “I genuinely don’t know where you get this confidence to go after a married woman, but I’m very much not interested, kid,” you scoff. “Leo, buddy. Trust me. Her husband is a god compared to you,” Sam adds as his hand pats Leo’s back as he guides him away from you. 

You crumple up the number and toss it aside as Optimus peels out of the parking lot. After a few minutes of driving at a fast speed and Optimus being oddly quiet, you decide to speak up. “My love?” you ask softly only to hear nothing but silence. You sigh softly, “You know you’re the best thing to happen to me right? That I’ll never get tired of you and that it’s always you on my mind right? The only one who gets me all hot and bothered,” you say reassuringly with a small giggle at your last statement as your hand caresses the dashboard in a soothing manner. “I know that. I’m not upset with you. Never with you, my sweet spark,” Optimus says with a soft sigh before pulling off to the side of the road and into a small forested area as he transformed into his humanoid form with you in his servos. 

He finds a tree and sits down with his back against it as he lifts you up to his face and carefully places kisses on your face and lips. “No one else could ever have you,” Optimus says as his spike is released and his other hand reaches under your dress to take off your panties only to realize you weren’t wearing any and he lets out a low rumbling growl. You smirk slightly, “I have to keep things interesting, Optimus,” you say teasingly. “My wife,” he says possessively and places you against his warmed-up spike making a shiver run down your spine. His voice and possessiveness were something you’d never dealt with before with him. Optimus was always so gentle and loving, but this… this was primal and rough. You begin to rock your hips lightly as your slick covers his spike making it easy for you to feel the ridges of his spike against your clit making you let out breathy moans. His servo wraps around your torso in a firm grip. “Primus, you’re mine,” Optimus groans out as he gently rocks his hips lightly to create more friction as you grind against his large spike. Your hands grip his spike as you let out a whine at the feeling of him, “I’m yours. N-no one else’s. I love you, I love you,” you whimper out desperately as your orgasm approaches. Transfluids start to leak from his tip and he pushes your hips down as he starts to apply more pressure to his length as he let out a deep moan from the feeling. Your juices have coated his spike as your thighs tighten and they become lubed up from your essence dripping down the sides of his spike. “‘M close, my love,” you gasp out as you continue to moan and whimper from the pleasure. “Optimus!” you cry out as your orgasm wracks through your body and your thighs squeeze around him. Optimus hasn’t stopped moving you against his spike as his hand moves down to hold your lower back and ass to continue the grinding. “Y-Y/N,” he groans loudly as he twitches and the transfluids shoot out from his spike in large spurts against his abdomen and breastplates. 

You watch the liquid shine against him and you bite your lip softly. “I… don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that,” you say lovingly before looking into his blue optics. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you… it’s quite sexy seeing you so- what’s the word,” you pause, “so deliciously possessive,” you finish with a smile and a small giggle. Optimus lets out a small chuckle as he raises his other servo to caress your cheek with the back of his finger. “I wasn’t too rough?” he asks softly with slight concern. “Your grip may have been too tight, but would I change that? Absolutely not. In fact, I like this rough side a bit,” you smile cutely, “it’s kinda, super, mega sexy,” you giggle brightly making Optimus laugh softly with you. “I love you with all of my spark and every inch of my being, Y/N,” Optimus says lovingly as he leans down a bit to rest his forehead against yours gently. Your hands go on either side of his face as you place soft kisses on his lips, nose, and forehead before resting your forehead back against his as you both close your eyes to breathe in the moment. “I adore you and every bit of me forever belongs to you. Mind, body, and soul. I love you,” you say in a soft whisper.

Bonus:

Sam turns to Bee at the place they were supposed to meet you and Optimus at. "Where are they?" Sam asks confused. Bee shrugs his shoulders and lifts his servos slightly, "Hell if I know," he says through multiple channel changes through his radio.

A/N: lmk what y'all thought about it!! comments appreciated ��🏻 tips are also appreciated, no matter how small 💞 much love and kisses to you all

[jobean12-blog]

Color Me Yours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Mob!Bucky)

Word Count: 984

Summary: Whether or not he's busy with his work he always has time for you and whatever you want.

Author's Note: I had written a story about coloring with Joel and I just love the idea of doing something so simple with our fave guys and then I thought Mob!Bucky would be so fun to color with. This is just a snapshot of a soft and fun domestic moment where our usual no bullshit boss is really and truly himself with his most favorite human ever- his wife. I also mention a scene in the movie Ghost from 1990 and I referenced this scene. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: It's fun and fluffy and sweet and silly and ends with a bit of spice bc I can't help myself, established relationship, coloring bc yay!

“There you are doll face.”

You walk into his office with a smile, your hands kept neatly hidden behind your back.

“What are you hiding?” he asks as he leans back in his leather chair, legs spread wide and smirk pulling at his lips.

“A book.”

You stop just in front of his large mahogany desk. You’re wearing nothing but a tank top and panties and your skin warms as his eyes sweep over you appreciatively.

“What are you reading now?”

“Not that kind of book.”

He raises a questioning brow.

“It’s a coloring book.”

With an easy push he swivels his chair to the side and pats his thigh invitingly.

“Come ‘ere doll. Let me see.”

You come around the desk and perch yourself on the thick muscle, watching his reaction as you reveal your coloring book and colored pencils.

He takes it from your hands and starts to flip through it, smiling the whole time.

“These are beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you.”

He carefully places your things on his desk and wraps you in his arms. You rest your head along his shoulder and slip your fingers into the open buttons of his collared shirt.

“If you’re not too busy now, will you color with me?”

Your head tilts up to meet his eyes and you find him gazing down at you softly.

“I’m never too busy for you doll face. You know that.”

He sits up and pulls the chair toward the desk, caging you in with his arms around your waist and his chest pressed to your back.

“The only rule is you have to stay in my lap while we do it.”

He whispers the words against your neck, gently kissing the spot before he pushes the strap of your tank top off your shoulder and continues pressing his lips along your skin.

“One more rule…you can’t distract me until we’ve done some coloring,” you breathe out. “You’re very distracting.”

“Fine. I’ll behave doll…for now.”

You turn your head and chase his lips, sliding your hand into his hair and gently scraping your nails along his scalp.

“Tease,” he growls playfully against your mouth.

With a coy smile you peck his lips one last time then ask, “did you see any particular picture that you want to color?”

“You pick,” he answers, keeping his face nestled in your neck.

“Let’s color this one.”

You point to a page and then start sifting through your colored pencils. He waits for you to pick one then does the same, deciding on a cerulean blue.

“Almost as pretty as your eyes,” you purr.

He kisses your cheek and let’s his nose run along the column of your throat, whispering his thanks.

“This is relaxing,” he murmurs.

“I agree. I was going to try painting next...”

“I’ll build you a space for you to do your art. Any kind you want.”

“Can we get a pottery wheel?”

“Of course,” he answers.

You turn to look at him, smiling brightly when you exclaim, “then we can make something together like Molly and Sam in Ghost!”

With a squeal you go back to coloring, unaware of Bucky’s confused expression.

“Molly and Sam?” he asks.

“YOU HAVEN’T SEEN GHOST?” you nearly shout, turning in his arms again. “We are watching it tonight.”

“Is it a scary movie…about a ghost?”

His question makes you roll your eyes and you poke him with a colored pencil.

“NO Buck. It’s a love story and they totally have sex after he distracts her while she’s making her pottery…”

“What are you implying doll?”

“Oh nothing,” you sing song. “I’m sure you’ll love the movie.”

 “I’m sure I will too.”

“You better…it’s so good.”

He lightly nibbles on your neck in response, causing you to squeal again.

“Nibbles laterrrrrrrr,” you half whine half giggle.

He relents but only after more soft kisses to any part of your bare skin he can reach.

As you go to choose a new color you pause to watch him, noting how his movements are precise and he stays within the lines, coloring each part of the picture with consistency.

“You’re really good at this,” you muse. “Have you been secretly coloring without me?”

He chuckles.

“Nah doll face, but you know I love to pay attention to every little detail.”

“Oh, that’s an understatement,” you giggle.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say cheekily.

He nuzzles your neck, knowing his scruffy jaw tickles your skin and it makes you wiggle and squirm in his hold.

“Buckyyyyy,” you gasp.

He finally stops to let you breathe, securing you in his lap again and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

His right hand holds the colored pencil and his left rests on your hip and as time continues to pass in comfortable silence his fingers begin to trace circles on your skin, slow and light.

“Done already?” you purr.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about doll.”

His tone is incredulous even as his hand dips lower and teases between your legs.

You try to stay focused on coloring the picture but his touch is far too distracting and you drop the pencil with a sigh and lean back.

“What about my coloring?” you whisper as your hands slide down and grip his thighs.

He pushes your legs apart and slides his finger over your silky panties.

“This is all your fault,” he murmurs. “You came in here wearing almost nothing…”

“My fault?” you breathe out. “This is why I can never get anything done…you and your hands…distracting!”

“You love it.”

“I do,” you gasp, rocking in his lap. “But you aren’t getting out of coloring…or the movie.”

He takes your earlobe between his teeth with a gentle tug, drawing soft little moans from your parted lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it baby doll. You know I’ll do anything you want.”

@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @littleseasiren @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife

[yinorathedragontamer]

how do you think the spn boys ( Sam, Dean, Cas) would separately react to a reader who needs reading glasses. like it's boring long ass research time and reader just pulls out their glasses and the boys are like '??? when was this'. I just think it would be very cute 😭🫶

a/n: OMG YES!! i love this request sm <3 though personally i dont have reading glasses, i tried to make this accurate, i hope this is good T.T i hope you enjoy!!

pairing: Sam, Dean, Cas (seperately) x gn!reader

Dean Winchester

it was just another ghost case, a vengefull spirit that's pissed off, so ofcourse, you had to figure out who this ghost was, when they died and where the remains were burried.

you were in a small town, the ghost was killing people with what they feared, so far, there were three victims, one was a woman who was scared of heights, she got pushed off a building. the second was a man who was scared of tight spaces, he got suffocated in a closet, and lastly there was a young girl that was scared of deep water, and she drowned in the deep side of a pool, all over the span of a month.

Sam offered to go get you three some proper lunch from the local store, so you and Dean have to do most of the research, or atleast make a start on it.

Dean is making himself comfortable on one of the two motel beds, with Sam's laptop for research.

you sit down next to him, with a book on vengefull spirits, because you mentioned something about how this spirit could be a different kind than usual.

Dean glances at you for a second, a small smile on his lips, but quickly, his expression changes to one of absolute surprise as you whip out a pair of glasses and put it on, opening your book, though in the corner of your eye you can see him looking at you.

"what?" you raise an eyebrow.

"you have reading glasses?" Dean asks in a surprised tone.

"yeah, obviously" you glance at him.

"got a problem with that?" "what? no, no ofcourse not" he replies, though he has a teasing smile on his face, which makes you roll your eyes. yeah, he was so gonna use this against you for teasing.

Sam Winchester

its been over an hour since Dean said he was gonna go and check out the scene once more with Cas, and you and Sam are still sitting there in a motel room.

Sam has been researching for the past 45 minutes, on his laptop. you two are quiet, save for the occasional typing from Sam.

you made yourself a cup of tea, before sitting down at the small table in the room, pulling a book. you also pull out your reading glasses, putting them on and adjusting them slightly before flipping your book open.

Sam, being so engrossed on his laptop, doesn't notice for about 20 minutes, untill he looks up to ask if you've found anything, but the words die on his tongue as he looks at you, focused and reading... with glasses? since when?

"uh... did you find anything yet?" he ask with slight hesitation. he doesn't want to mention the sudden glasses, because what if you take offense? or get embarrassed? he doesn't want that, the least he wants is feel like an absolute idiot.

"no" you respond with a sigh, putting your book down and sliding off your glasses to be ontop of your head, grabbing your now room temperature tea, though you know Sam, and you can see in his eyes that he's confused about the glasses.

"i've had them for years, though they make researching on a laptop even shittier, and usually i borrow yours for research, so i don't put them on. besides, they don't do much for anything else, and i usually inspect the items we find at a scene, so, don't feel bad you didn't notice them before" you explain, smiling a little to yourself when he lets out a silent, relieved sigh.

"okay, okay, so i'm not a terrible boyfriend for not knowing you had reading glasses, good to know" he says with a slight laugh at the end of his sentence.

"you look cute in them, they suit you"

Castiel

Dean and Sam left to get dinner, leaving you in the motel room alone to research some more, because why not.

you were peacefully reading some newspapers, checking for any details you might've missed. the glasses you were wearing sliding down every once in a while, so you adjust them to sit back up on your nose properly.

you suddenly hear the sound of wings fluttering, and low and behold, Cas is standing across from you, though instead of the usual greeting, you're met with silence as you two look at eachother, the angel tilting his head to the side as he usually does when he's curious about something.

"....hello [name]..." he finally says, his eyebrows furrowing subtly.

"i didn't know you needed reading glasses." he mentions rather bluntly, making you smile.

"yeah, i know. you haven't been around much lately during research" you see him furrow his brows even more.

"i... think i should've known." he mumbles.

"isn't it normal for someone to know those things about their partner?" he asks you.

"yeah, but its not a big deal if you simply haven't noticed, its just a pair of glasses i barely use, its nothing to feel bad about" you say reassuringly.