#double blind: tony

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

Oh man, okay so that Peter snatching ask, I feel like I neeeed more of that. How would Tony even explain Pyrite!Peter’s new situation to him? Would he even tell Pyrite Peter about DB!Peter? Aksdkfniend I don’t know if you want to go more into detail about this because it’s technically not a fic of yours so feel free to ignore this ask if this isn’t the direction you want to go with these, I’m just infinitely curious about the scenario written in that ask and figured it didn’t hurt to shoot my shot here, so to speak.

[[in reference to this ask and then this ask-- not only did it not hurt to shoot your shot, I wrote a whole-ass fic about it, lmao. CWs for abduction/long-term captivity, gentle noncon and general very 💖loving and tender💖 emotional abuse, and all of the psychological trauma that goes with it-- but there's a hopeful ending! (Also, daddykink, which I can apparently only tolerate if one of the characters in question hates it, lmao.)]]

This older Tony told him that he was picked because he's special, but Peter isn't stupid. In the brief glimpse he was allowed to see of the other Peters out there on that monitor, he noticed that most of them were older. Stronger. Actually special.

And he sees the way that this Tony looks at him. Peter wouldn't have noticed it before, probably, but it was the same expression that his brother wore when they were… together. Dark, heated, focused. Peter had loved the attention from his brother, but it scares him from this man. He's constantly on edge, waiting for the moment that petting hands or a tender kiss might slip somewhere unbearable, like being prepared will somehow give him a way to stop it.

He knows it won't, of course. He knows he can't.

He can't stop anything.

This Tony wants Peter to call him 'Dad.' Peter tries to protest, tries to say that he already has a dad, that it's strange when his own Tony is his brother instead. But Tony insists– says that he'll be a better father to Peter than Howard Stark ever was, that Peter doesn't need a brother when he has a father like Tony instead, that his brother was never any good to him anyway.

It makes Peter regret every single time he's ever complained about his dad and every single time he ever felt ignored by his brother, and he tells Tony that, that he loves his family even if they're not perfect and he misses his mom and that he wants to go home.

But this Tony doesn't care about his tears, and Peter is afraid of him, so Tony gets his way.

That's always how it goes. Peter cries, he begs, he asks to go home. When he's at his most desperate and selfish and awful, he asks for Tony to take someone else instead. And Tony holds him and pets him and coos and hums and murmurs that everything will be okay, and he just needs time to adjust, and that he's perfect. That Tony could never let him go.

Peter knows that he means it, and Tony never seems to realize that it only makes him cry harder. But in the end Peter always ends up leaning heavily into his arms, sniffling and exhausted and cried-out, so maybe it's his fault for sending mixed messages.

He does try to make the best of it, after all. He knows it makes him a coward, and that he should fight and scream and try to make this Tony's life hell until he does give Peter up, like rehoming a bad dog. But he can't, because he's not brave, so instead he sets the table and makes suggestions for dinner and smiles at Tony's jokes and picks out movies to watch from under the arm of this man who is not his father and not his brother but who he still calls 'Dad.'

"Good choice, baby," Tony says with a smile when Peter picks out Die Hard for movie night, and Peter hates the warm, pathetic glow of satisfaction that swells in his chest at the praise. But it's better than being scared, so Peter will take it, even if it makes him feel just as cheap and slimy as the actual sex.

It doesn't take long for that to start, though it's longer than Peter expects. A few weeks, maybe, though Peter's sense of time isn't great anymore. Tony had already slipped into his bed even as early as that first night, with the excuse of comforting Peter while he cried– "oh, sweetheart, don't cry, you'll be okay," he'd crooned, pressing kisses to Peter's hair while he flinched, "you'll love it here, you'll see,"– but then he never stopped, even once Peter stopped crying himself to sleep.

So one morning it happens, inevitable. Tony's wrist brushes too low when he's untangling himself from Peter as they wake, and Peter can't bite back his gasp at the pressure against his morning wood, and before he knows it there's a hand around him and lips against his neck and a warm, morning-rough voice muttering, "Let me take care of that for you, sweetheart."

Peter tries to stop it. He does. He does.

But when he gasps, "Dad, wait, please stop," Tony only murmurs, "Shh, relax, honey," and in the end it's like everything else.

Tony is always gentle with him. It's a strange contrast to his brother, who called him filthy things and teased him until he was so red he thought he might pass out and could be rough with him when Peter asked for it. Peter liked that, yeah, but he had always wished that his brother would kiss him sweetly and tell him he loved him, too.

It's disorienting to have those daydreams come to life in the form of this other, twisted version of his brother. Peter tries to close his eyes as Tony moves inside him and take what comfort he can in the soft touches and endless praise, and sometimes it works, and sometimes it puts a pit in his stomach to think he ever wanted this from his brother at all.

Even outside of bed, it messes with Peter's head the way that Tony's so nice. It makes it too easy to sink into the lie sometimes, when he's allowed to wander the familiar penthouse suite of Stark Tower instead of being locked in some basement, when Tony remembers all of his favorite treats and movies, when Tony spoils him rotten and tells him he's perfect and never, ever loses his patience.

(Even when Peter does. Even when Peter has one of his embarrassing episodes where he loses his mind and beats his fists against Tony's chest and scratches and bites until he tastes blood, Tony just holds him and sighs "I know, baby, I know," until Peter is spent. He never even raises his voice.

But he does cry sometimes. It makes Peter feel guilty, and then mad at himself for feeling guilty, and then he gets so confused that he just lets Tony bundle him away for a nap like he really is a tantruming five-year-old. Every time he wakes up he's mortified, but Tony never scolds him like he deserves. He's just sweet and gentle and forgiving, and he lets Peter sink right back into the comfort of the lie.)

Peter wonders if Tony was kind to the other Peter. He resents him sometimes, even though he knows it's not fair. It's not the other Peter's fault that he died, or that his dad is… like this. It's not the other Peter's fault that Tony picked Peter out of all the options. But even still, sometimes he thinks 'if you were still here, then I wouldn't be,' and there's some satisfaction in having someone to blame who he doesn't have to share a bed with.

But mostly– mostly he wonders about the other Peter's life. Sometimes Tony will cling to him and apologize over and over again like he can't hear Peter at all, and Peter wonders if he was mean to the other Peter while he was alive, or if he was sleeping with his actual son, too, or if he blames himself somehow for the way that he died. JARVIS won't tell him what happened, and he's too afraid to ask Tony.

But it wasn't a secret, he knows. Even if he can't find any mention of the original Peter Stark's death online, other people have to know about it, because none of Tony's employees can stand to look at him.

He wonders what they know. Do they think he's some kind of Frankenstein's monster? Do they know he's been kidnapped? Do they think he's just an uncanny lookalike, or do they know about the machine in Tony's personal lab?

(Or do they just know exactly how close their boss is to his son, Peter thinks sometimes, and it makes him want to never come out of his room.)

Or maybe they're just afraid that if they look, Tony will see something on their faces that he doesn't like, because–

He may always be gentle with Peter, but Tony is not a kind man.

He still rarely raises his voice. When he's angry with someone, his voice goes flat and ice-cold and the room gets so quiet it feels like even breathing would be too loud.

He always sends Peter out of the room before he kills someone. It's the only time anyone will look at him, their eyes wild and pleading for Peter to stay like that would save them, but by then it's Peter who can't bear to look.

Peter hates himself for the way that he shakes for hours afterward instead of doing something. He hates himself for the way that he crawls into Tony's lap once they get home, the way he tips his face up for a kiss, all so he can hear Tony say–

"I'm sorry, baby." Rough stubble prickling at Peter's temple, his cheek, his chin. "You know I would never hurt you, don't you? Never."

"I know," Peter whispers, and by the time they're done and Tony has made him come at least twice and told him again and again that he loves him, that he's perfect, that he's the only thing that matters, it will almost feel true.

(Peter thinks about the other Peters on that monitor, and how so many of them were strong and brave and stood up to people just like Tony, and he wonders how the other Peter died.)

He does save someone though, he thinks. Just once. He can't know for sure, because it's not one of the men that regularly comes to meet Tony at the tower, but he thinks maybe he helped.

The man is making excuses. He's in charge of one of Tony's projects, and he says that Tony gave him permission to take time off to take care of his mother after a surgery, and that's why the project is behind schedule. Tony doesn't remember and doesn't care and he gets angrier with every word out of the man's mouth, and eventually he stands, those silver tendrils exploding out of his suit to grapple the man down over his desk while he wails and pleads.

Tony takes a breath, and Peter knows he's going to tell Peter to leave the room, and he abruptly can't stand it.

"Daddy, don't," he says, the babyish word coming out in his desperate horror without him meaning to say it, and he hugs Tony around the waist like that means anything, like he can stop anything, like he's a version of himself that's actually strong.

Tony freezes, and for the length of what feels like a hundred rabbiting heartbeats Peter is terrified. He's never stood up to Tony in front of his men. He's barely stood up to him at all, and it never leads to anything anyway, and he suddenly doesn't know why he stuck himself out for this stranger who Tony is probably just going to kill anyway but this man has a family and Peter misses his mom so much he can barely breathe and he can't keep doing nothing he can't he can't he can't–

Tony turns gently in his grip, because Peter can't stop him, and Peter keeps his face buried against Tony's shoulder. He can still hear the sound of the man whimpering quietly from where he's pinned to the desk by Tony's tendrils, and he flinches when the weight of Tony's hand settles on his hair, gentle.

"Oh, sweetheart," Tony breathes, his voice strange– revelatory, tender, almost delighted. "Did Daddy scare you?"

The room is quiet. Peter is painfully aware of every other person listening– the guards by the door, the man on the desk, gasping in shaky breaths now instead of whimpering.

He can feel the weight of something important shifting, shifting, shifting when he nods his head, and the finality of something new settling into place when Tony wraps his arms around him.

"Get out," Tony says over his shoulder, and there's a clatter of noise as the man scrambles to the door. Tony adds, "You too," to the guards, and when the door clicks closed they're alone.

Peter shudders in Tony's arms, his body not able to reconcile the combination of relief and deep, primal fear coursing through his veins, and Tony clicks his tongue, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head.

"You really don't like coming to work with me, do you," he sighs, rubbing Peter's back. "I'm sorry, baby. You told me that, and I didn't listen."

He reaches to cup both sides of Peter's face, so Peter finally has to look up at him. He looks perfectly sweet, warm and fond and apologetic, and the contrast from his anger moments earlier is dizzying.

Tony strokes his thumbs tenderly over Peter's cheeks, and sighs one more time before he says, "All right, sweetie. If you promise that you'll be good, I'll let you stay in your room while I'm gone, okay? If that's really what you want."

It's so unexpected that it takes Peter a moment to understand that this is a compromise. Tony has never offered one before, and Peter had learned to stop asking a long time ago.

He rushes to gasp, "Yes– yes, please," and then, spontaneous and uncertain and thinking, adds, "Thank you, Daddy."

Tony smiles, and the chill it sends through Peter is anticipation just as much as disgust. Tony takes him upstairs to the penthouse then, and takes the entire rest of the day off work to make up for scaring him. It's almost nice, really, and if Peter doesn't like it when Tony tells him 'Daddy's got you' and 'that's right, let Daddy take care of you' in bed, it's still worth it, because–

The next day Peter gets to have four whole hours to himself until lunchtime, and then another four whole hours after that, and he can't remember the last time he didn't spend the whole day with Tony.

Things change after that.

Before, any protests Peter made would get shushed and brushed aside, Tony always gentle but never permissive. He would say that he knew best, that Peter would be okay, that Peter's way wouldn't work, and he would go on like Peter hadn't said anything at all. Requests were usually easier, Tony happy to bury Peter in gifts, but as for experiences– Tony's sense of what was too risky for Peter was broad and paranoid and stifling, and now–

It's shocking having a way to get Tony to listen to him, and Peter tries not to let it go to his head. He's careful. He doesn't ask for too much. He sprinkles in petty requests to throw off the scent of when he really, really wants something so it can't be used against him.

He acts like he really is all those dirty things his brother used to call him, and he bats his eyelashes and pouts and fawns, and he says "Daddy, please?" and "Can I, Daddy?" and "Daddy, I don't want to," and he gets what he wants.

But he knows just that won't be enough for what he really wants. Not by itself. He can't just stick out his bottom lip and simper his way into where he wants to go, so he'll need to add something else.

And Peter will give Tony this: for all that his obsession with his "son" is twisted and wrong, he really does seem to care more about making Peter come than himself. He always takes Peter in his mouth like it's a treat, but the first time Peter slides to his knees in front of him, he looks so shocked that it honestly seems like he hasn't even thought about it before.

"Petey," he says, ghosting his fingers over Peter's hair while Peter draws him out of his pants. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to, sweetie."

Peter knows it's part of why Tony is so sweet to him, but it irritates him sometimes when Tony acts like he actually buys the whole innocent lamb act, like he doesn't fuck Peter at least twice a day himself. Tony knows about Peter's brother, he knows Peter's done this before; Peter's even pretty sure it's part of why Tony picked him.

Peter takes a breath and pushes it all down, down, down, and he reaches for the part of himself that means it when he says, "I want to, Daddy."

He leans in, and if it's more bitter than he remembers– well, the aftermath is what's sweet.

It's hard to keep the request behind his teeth while Tony fawns over him after, showering him in kisses and praise and making him come so many times that Peter finally has to protest, "Daddy, no more," sluggish and sensitive and overheated.

But he wants Tony to think it's his idea, so he waits until finally, finally–

Tony chuckles and nuzzles in to kiss Peter's cheek, and he murmurs, "Okay, okay, baby. I just want to make you feel good after you were so good to me. What else can I do for you, hmm?"

Peter bites his lip and looks away, and it's not all playing shy. He's nervous, and he's really not sure how Tony is going to react, and if Tony squashes his hopes here– he can't think about that.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tony croons, pushing back Peter's sweaty curls and kissing his forehead. "You can tell me, Petey; I know you've got something in mind."

"Can I–" Peter hesitates, and he'd like to say he's playing it up, but the way his eyes go wide and desperate and shiny is all real. "Daddy, can I… can I please see the monitor again? Please? I want… I want to see Grandma."

He doesn't know if it's a step too far and too false to call her that. Maria Stark would be his grandmother if he was actually Tony's son, and he's trying to– give a show of good faith, that even if he's still thinking about his real family he's accepted the false reality that Tony's made for them. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits to find out, and–

Tony sucks in a breath, staring at Peter in shock for the second time that night, but this time his expression resolves into regret and apology.

"Honey," he says softly, and Peter wants to scream, "I don't know if that would be the best thing for you. I think it'll make you sad, sweetheart."

No, Peter wants to say, but contradicting Tony will just make him dig in his heels, so instead he says, "I-I know, I know it will, but that's okay. It'll make me happy, too. Like getting older, right?"

He throws it in, a last-minute ad-lib; Tony jokes all the time about how sad it makes him to see Peter get older even though he's glad that Peter's growing up so sweet. It's a hit– Tony smiles, rueful, and Peter presses his advantage. He links his arms behind Tony's neck, cuddling close, all entirely-real doe eyes and quivering lips when he asks, "Daddy, please let me. Please?"

Tony sighs, and he leans in to scatter kisses over Peter's face when he murmurs, "You're getting too sweet for me, baby. All right, if you're sure that's what you want."

Peter's heart soars, and when he pulls Tony into a kiss he doesn't even have to fake enjoying it.

They go the next day. Tony is still reluctant about it, but he doesn't try to back out, and so they make their way to his private lab after breakfast.

It hits Peter harder than he expected. He knew it would make him sad, but he was imagining his mother bright and vibrant and happy. He barely recognizes the haggard woman on the screen, grayer than he left her and exhausted with grief, and it makes him cry so hard he can barely breathe.

"I told you, sweetheart," Tony sighs, rubbing Peter's back and stroking his hair, but he doesn't try to rush him out of the room early. "This is too hard for you, baby."

"I'm okay," Peter forces out between tears, because he can't lose access to this. "I w-wanted this. I'm s-so happy to see her. Thank you, Daddy."

It's going to be hard to play at being cheerful the rest of the day, he knows, but he'll have to if he wants Tony to ever let him come back to this room. Because even despite his tears, he did get what he was actually after: he watched how Tony selected a universe from the massive, awe-inspiring constellation of choices, and he memorized the coordinates that Tony punched in to pull up his true home.

And if he's ever going to get an opportunity to use them, he needs to get back in that room.

He makes it work. He's extra-sweet all day long, enough to curb Tony's concerns about the effect of their field trip on his mood, and he keeps it up after that. He pulls Tony into kisses and buttons his shirts for him in the morning. He pushes Tony back to ride him after work, their hands clasped together between them. He gets on his knees, he wakes Tony in the morning with a warm hand or slick mouth, he waits for Tony at lunchtime wearing one of his dress shirts and nothing else.

He's afraid at first that Tony might be put off by his new boldness, or at least suspicious, but Tony swallows the bait whole. He seems delighted that Peter is finally settling into his new life, eager to believe that Peter really has just grown more comfortable and mature in their relationship over time, and he even starts to trust Peter more. It's not even something that Peter asks for, but a week or two into his change of attitude, Tony gives him permission to access the rest of the suite while Tony's at work.

And that's not Peter's goal, but it does have some potential.

He does get to go back to the private lab. Peter doesn't ask for it every time, or even every other time, but Tony doesn't even hesitate to say yes, now. Peter plays up his excitement of the idea of the multiverse and of Tony's genius for making the machine; he plays up his interest in the other Peters; he checks in on his family.

And he watches the way Tony uses the monitor. He examines the construction of the machine. He pays attention to what features Tony uses when he navigates the 'verse map, and more than that, he pays attention to what features Tony avoids ever using in front of him.

He figures out slowly that his first plan won't work. As far as he can glean, the machine isn't built to have a way to send people back, and he knows he's not smart enough to figure out how to build that feature. He's smart, but even though the year on the calendar isn't even a full two decades ahead of Peter's actual universe, the technology may as well be a century more advanced– if the machine can only pull people to this universe, he isn't going to fool himself that he can change that by himself.

But still, every time he's in that room, he watches, and he thinks. He watches how Tony grows less attentive to his every move, more complacent in the idea that Peter is happy with their life. He watches how every day Tony gets closer to giving him permission to go to the lab by himself– it's not like he can use the machine to leave, after all. He watches how JARVIS sometimes lets him get away with things for a beat longer than he should, if Peter can make it look enough like an accident.

And he still watches the other Peters on the monitor. The ones that are older. The ones that are geniuses. The ones that save their cities from men like Tony. The ones that save the world.

Peter's not strong. He's not brave. He's not special.

He can't stop anything.

But he thinks he knows who can.

#fic: double blind #fic: pyrite #pyrite: peter #double blind: tony #prompt: multiverse #multiverse: kidnapping au #fic response #ursa interlude: #this is quite possibly the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written #we are truly getting to CLAMP levels of masturbatory multiverse drama here but I love it #ANYWAY. UM. ENJOY?!

[workingbynyx]

hello baby I love your theme !! i saw you were doing jason todd x readers so i’m gonna shoot my shot OFC NO PRESSURE

so we all know bruce is rich so jason must be as well but WHAT IF reader also came from a rich powerful family of Gotham, I think they would maybe meet through a gala or something and Dick would joke to Jason about how he is drooling at the sight of reader IDK BABES IT’S UP TO YOU, i hope it inspires you <3

City of Stars — Jason Todd x F!Reader

↷ summary — what happens if one of the bat sons meet the striking heiress of another powerful family? ˎˊ˗

↷ pairing — jason todd x f!reader ˎˊ˗

↷ genre — romance, fluff, slight comedy and eventual angst ˎˊ˗

↷ warning/s — a few curse words here and there ˎˊ˗

↷ a/n — hey!! tysm for this prompt oml its the cutest, and ik its a bit of a cliché but reader is an heiress to stark industries here 😭 i figured it would be interesting since, contrary to popular belief, tony and bruce wouldn't get along so it offers the question what would happen if their children got together (tea 👀🍵) this isn't based on anything btw! so there might be some ooc instances. OH AND I'll probably make a part 2 of this soon if i get motivationekehwjd soooo i hope you enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗

— wayne manor, present day

bruce fixed yet another gala for the year, inviting multiple billionare ceos and business owners to the humble party. gotham city strived under the great care of his trusted partners even when crime and corruption still runs in the city. the bat took care of that of course, with the help of his sons and daughters who also attended the event in simple dresses and suits and ties tailored to their liking.

the gala had been going on for a few hours or so which eventually became boring enough for jason to take a few shots and drinks by the bar as he scanned the crowd with people in bejeweled clothes and shimmering jewelry that blinded him as the chandelier shined on them. "is all that really neccessary.." he mumbled to himself, taking a sip of his 3rd drink of the night. "yes it is, would you rather people come into sweats like you would?" dick suddenly chimed in as he walked up towards jason and leaned against the counter of the bar, asking for a drink of his choice.

"It wouldn't hurt to try next year" jason said with a stern look on his face, occassionally shooting up a short smile to people walking by. "if bruce allows it, i doubt he would. the man practically lives in a suit and tie" dick replied, "well, tough shit grayson. you might be forgetting being the rebel is sort of my thing" jason shot back with a smirk. "ah, my bad" grayson said with a chuckle as he sipped on champagne. "so, anyone caught your eye yet?" "If you mean spoiled little kids running around with chocolate smeared on their faces then yeah" jason sighed while dick suppressed a laugh. "c'mon man, there's at least gotta be someone" "dick, i didn't come here to look for 'someone' nor do i ever plan to"

and right when jason uttered those words with no remorse, he immediately swallowed them right back when he caught a glimpse of you in the crowd. the dark yellow dress you wore complimenting the red of his suit, its like a match made in gotham, as one would say. the man had to double take in your way when you slowly walked through the room with your father, tony stark. the man behind stark industries, one of the richest companies based in new york. jason knew they recently opened a branch within the city to make way for new advanced technology and scientific engineering. that was probably the reason why you're here from jason's assumption.

"i'd say otherwise" dick snuck up beside jason and whispered to taunt him, his eyes following the lady that caught his brother's attention. "..what?" the other finally said, snapping out of it. "you should go up to her instead of drooling over here, you look like a total loser dude" dick patted his shoulder which annoyed jason. "cut it out dick, i'm not going up to her" "why not?" "i have other things to tend to" "like?" "...shut up" "jason, this is your only shot. are you gonna waste it on brooding the whole night?" "i'm NOT taking any of your dating advice" "i didn't say you have to date her dipshit, what could a friendly conversation lead to?" "a can of worms, go figure" jason then started walking away from dick as soon as he sets the glass down on the counter.

"jay c'mon," dick caught up to him which released a frustrated groan from jason. "she seems like a nice woman" "you're really living up to your name right now, stop it" jason said through gritted teeth.

in other people's point of view, it looks like two grown men are silently arguing in the corner of the big hall which then caught your attention soon after. you wanted to get to know bruce's children after he warmly welcomed you and your family to gotham before they got down to talking business, it obviously lost your interest so you quietly excused yourself from the conversation to wander the mansion.

you stumbled upon one of his daughters and had a nice conversation, they didn't seem intimidating as they said they'd be— not until you went up to his sons. you mentally prepared yourself as you slowly walked over to the duo, straightening the slight wrinkles on your dress and patting down your necklace.

"uhm, hello there. i hope i'm not interrupting" you called out to them which caught their attention. dick and jason quickly arranged themselves to look presentable, even if they were just arguing seconds ago. "hey" jason said as he cleared his throat, to which you replied with a smile. "its a wonderful party, i see mr. wayne has good taste" you tried to sound polite as possible...was it even worth trying?

"yeah, definitely" dick nodded his head. "i'm richard by the way, richard grayson. but you can call me dick" "oh uhm, pardon?" "it's unusual, i know. but trust me its fine" you couldn't help but slightly giggle at his statement, he was quite the charm. jason, on the other hand, couldn't stand seeing the two of you almost get along. he had to do something if he wanted to win you over.

you then looked over to him in anticipation, "jason" he says. "jason todd" he added. "it's nice meeting you, i've heard..interesting things about you" you said as you reached out your hand for a shake as he returned the gesture. "mhm, that's..great i guess" he nodded. "well uhm, i just wanted to come over and say hi. if our dads are gonna work together i should probably get to know his children too as a courtesy" you said with a smile, talking to bruce's oldest sons was quite nerve wrecking to say the least. they were tall, fit, sharp and certainly attractive, they're also intelligent one might add.

"huh" jason blurted out. "i didn't know bruce and mr. stark had to work together" he said. "oh, mr. wayne didn't mention anything?" "he never does" he replied. "hmm, that's a bit odd.." "trust me, everything's odd when you're around him" you couldn't help but chuckle which took jason back a bit, seeing you find his 'joke' funny enough. it was...adorable.

"i'll take your word for it, jason" hearing you say his name was like hearing angels sing to him. he didn't even realize he was developing a crush on someone he just met at a random gala, that never happened before. it must be something about you that attracted jason a lot.

"oh and, do you know where to get some fresh air? all this business talk has been making me ill for the past hour" you asked, a bit embarrassed to say it in front of them. but they seem to get your pain. "I'll let my brother show you, he knows this place a lot more than i do" "wh— you literally live here" jason whispered loudly. "i'll see you around ms. stark, i look forward to working with you soon" and just like that, dick had left you and jason alone.

your eyes followed dick as he walked back into the crowd until he was no longer seen, your gaze returning back to jason who was just staring at you unconsciously. at some point, you found yourself admiring his features for a moment. his eyes that shined against the light, his ruffled hair that sat prettily on his forehead, and his prominent jawline. 'he's cute...i guess' you thought to yourself, not until he cleared his throat when the silence got too loud.

"sooo, shall i show you around or are you gonna keep staring at me?" he said which made you lift a brow. "staring at yo— weren't you the one staring at me first?" you argued, making jason laugh at your protest. "relax, i was kidding" he added, flicking his head towards the staircase for you to follow him. "y'know, for a sec i thought you were a royal of some sort" jason started as the both of you went up. "how so?" you asked. "i don't know, you look all elegant and..the way you speak" you chuckled at his remark. "should i be flattered or is that a bad thing?" "not at all" jason said, a short smile forming. "well, that's what my mother taught me. she didn't want me to be a 'smartmouth' like my dad. he's probably annoying mr. wayne by now because of it" "bruce has already been around smartmouths enough," he turned towards you, "exhibit a" then gestures to himself.

you couldn't help but chuckle at jason. "is that so?" you asked with an exaggerated tone. "i didn't take you for a smartmouth if i'm being honest, more quite the opposite really" "well you might've if we met under different circumstances" "maybe, maybe not" you looked up to him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, a slight smirk forming on his face.

as the two of you walk through the empty halls of the mansion, you both reach the huge balcony where the doors are wide open. the cold breeze seeping through the curtains which sent shivers down your spine. you tried to fight the chills around your skin, but it was evident to jason you were clearly freezing. he unbuttoned his blazer and wrapped it around your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze when you thanked him. "ahh, this is nice" you exhaled, relief washing over you when the distinct conversations are finally blocked. you stared into the dimmed city lights of gotham, poorly glistening from where you stood.

"it kinda is" jason added, his hands now both in his pockets as he admired the view...and you.

the longer you stared, the longer a thought began lingering. you cracked your head to the side to look at jason standing behind you, ushering him to come forward. "so uh, how long have you been here?" you started. "since birth, i'm pretty much stuck here" jason answered as he leaned against the railings. "but either way, gotham is my home afterall. i don't think i'll ever have the chance to leave this behind, even if i wanted to" there was a bit of sentiment behind his words, but you understood him. you were also pretty much stuck in one place before your father finally agreed to take you elsewhere, to finally let you handle things your own way when you came of age.

he was always protective over you which partially hindered you from living up to your true potential, but now that he's giving you a part of his legacy you have the chance to prove yourself.

"how was it like? y'know, growing up in a city like this" you followed up. "nothing to sugarcoat i'll tell you that, but uh...that's probably a story for another day" jason says, a quick glance to your direction. "another day?" "yeah another day" he said, studying your reaction. his eyes gleamed with hope, hoping that you'd understand where he's getting at. "are– are you saying—" "yes, ms. stark. i, jason todd, am hoping to see you another day"

your cheeks flushed pink, the heartfelt conversation suddenly turning into whatever this was. it was a pleasant surprise. "i— well, i don't see why i'd say no to that offer" you said with the brightest smile on your face. jason contained a smile however, letting his head fall down between his arms while he sighed in relief. that could've gone the wrong way. he tapped against the stone railing and brought his head back up, his cheeks also dusted pink. "a'ight so, when can i see you then?" he raised a brow.

"i'm in the city for the next few weeks, come visit at the flat two blocks away from the stark industries site. i'm at the third floor, second door to your right" jason took note of that mentally, making sure he got every detail down. "right," he nodded. "uhhh, how do they say this— so it's..a date?"

"it's a date, mr. todd"

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x f!reader #✎ ─ nyx fics ! #dceu

[softlymaximoff]

Canvas for your Art

18+ ONLY MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

— A/N: HAPPY BDAY RIABEAR @belovaskitkat

— Summary: when your girlfriend surprises you with new art supplies for your birthday, you waste no time in testing them out on your favourite canvas.

— Characters: Soft!dom goofy Kate, Sub!Fem!reader

— Warnings: fluff, D/s dynamics (K, r - respectively), light overstim, pet names, dumbification, light pet play, orgasm denial, lmk if i've forgotten anything else!

— Word Count: 2.85k

"Kaaaaate" you groaned as your girlfriend opened the blinds, allowing the golden flecks of light to seep through the room. It was your birthday today and the two of you had been so busy with missions and briefings that no one really had time to have a wind down and celebrate the 'Tony Way' of a birthday.

"Wakeup sleepy girl, it's your birthday" she sing-songed softly as she padded across the hardwood floor with ease. A disgruntled groan slipped your lips and you heard the archer chuckle. Mornings were not it, you made that very clear.

"Come on baby, I've got plans!" she sat by your starfished state and ran her fingers through your slightly curly hair. She rolled her eyes at the way your body melted further into the mattress before rolling you over and pressing feather like kisses along your forehead.

Quiet giggles escaped your lips at the sudden yet dotting action and you finally opened your eyes. "Morning angel" Kate whispered and kissed your lips gently. "Hi" you whispered out as you kissed her back and just stared at her.

"You look nice" you commented on her minimal makeup look for the day and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Nothing compared to you pretty girl" she commented right back and you blushed. "8:30 and I've already made your cheeks red" the avenger chuckled and got up from her spot, throwing a few clothing items your way.

You blushed even harder at the double meaning and huffed at the inuendo, "You're so silly Bishop" you pouted as you sat up, stretching your arms above your head. You heard a quiet 'biiiiiig stretch' next to you and it broke you out of your stretch, laughter taking over your body.

"Now you're even sillier what the heck baby!" you managed to wheeze out and slapped her arm lightly. "You stretched like Lucky! It was only appropriate! And watch those hands love" she defended and warned at the same time while the two of you got up started your morning routine. All Kate did was follow you around, occasionally dressing you up here and there and helping with your hair, but were you about to complain? Hell no.

"So what does my birthday girl want to do today? We can do presents tonight and do something this morning or during the day, or we can do them this morning and go out somewhere tonight" she played with your hands as her back was against your chest while you were sitting on the counter waiting for breakfast to cook.

"How about we do something this morning and presents tonight?" you mused and leant down, kissing the top of her head. She swayed gently between your legs and turned to look at you, "Grab your coat, were gonna go to the lake" she murmured after just looking at you with nothing but adoration in her eyes.

And so you did just that, you grabbed your coats, your shoes and Lucky. A couple of thorough room checks for safety and the two of you were on your way to the lake where you first met each other. The story was cute for you, completely ego bruising for your girlfriend.

"Lena look at them! They're so cute! OH please can we get one for the compound!" the archer was swooning over a cuddle puddle of baby ducklings and their mother roaming around the lake edge. "Kate Bishop for goodness sake! Leave the poor water chickens alone! They are paobably so sick and tired of everyone trying to steal them all day! My God Americans really are so weird, Mama Melina had pigs maybe we can play with those, theyre just...four legged muddy chickens?" the widow rolled her eyes at the commotion and fuss over these fluff balls and Kate gasped in horror.

"You take that back! I'm not weird! Pigs are ugly! At least these babies are so fluffy and cute and really just like you! Theyre short and fiesty and loud as hell but so so so cute and squishy!" Kate teased and squished the blondes cheeks. "Get off me you cytka" Yelena shrieked and swatted her hands away, groaning at the instant sensation on the apples of her cheeks.

"Your new nickname isn't Lena or Blondie anymore, its Ducky" Kate howled in laughter at the deadpan glare Yelena sent. "Count your days Katniss" she growled and lunged at her best friend, sending them both on the floor. Thw two got into a playfull tussle until something wet licked Kate's face. "Did you just LICK me?! Yelena! That was uncalled for you ass! Ew!" Kate spluttered dramatically and wiped her cheek like a maniac.

The way Yelena went to roll her eyes but remained quiet and adverted her eyes away from Kate, smirking at something behind her made the purple avenger spin around. "What?! That's so not fair!" the duo were staring at a brunette crouching at the lake's edge with a few stray ducklings at her feet. "They never come up to anyone!" Kate whispered in awe and Yelena saw something in her eyes.

She was a spy for gods sake, she knew how to read people. Kate wasnt looking at the lowkey insult from the animals, but towards you. The Duckling whisperer. She was mesmerized. Anyone could see it. "Go say hi you idiot" Yelena pushed the lovestruck archer a little in the direction and Kate froze up.

"I can't just go over there and say hi! Are you crazy?!" she panicked but the widow smirked instead. "Kate Bishop, do you not know how conversations work? And plus, I'm tired of hearing you complain about how 'Wanda said she's too old for me' 'Tasha and Maria sure seem like theyre fun, do you think they want a third' 'Wanda said she's fine with Vision, is that code for he's got no game' go and say hi or I will for you" Yelena shoved her a little harder this time and Kate went stumbling from her little safe space.

Now she was too close to you to go back to Yelena but too far to try and talk to you without yelling. With a big deep sigh, she stuck up her middle finger behind her where she heard the blonde chuckle and made her way over to you. She slowed a little when she heard your voice speak out onto the lake.

"Aw you're cute too, don't worry I'm not playing favourites, your siblings just like to steal my attention. I promise youre just as beautiful!" you spoke to these small creatures in the softest voice Kate had ever heard. Resting peacefully next to you was Mama duck, her little babies splashing in the water in front of her and running laps around you.

The closer Kate got to you the harder it was to not completely fumble. On the otherside of you was a little sketchbook, a few rough line drawings of the ducks and the lake adorned the slightly oat coloured page. Of course you were an artist! All the more reason for Kate to back out of this! You were so cool and soft spoken, she felt like you yourself belonged in an art museum. 'So beautiful' she thought.

With a final breath of encouragement, she sat down next to you gently as to not startle the ambience and you froze tentatively at the new body but what she said next made you at ease instantly. "They taste great with orange" was the only thing that made its way out of Kate's mouth and she was mortified. From then on, the lake was your favourite place to watch the archer and her scary blonde friend roam around in the early mornings of Spring.

A gentle tug on your belt loop drew your attention back to reality and you realised that 1, Lucky's leash was now in your girlfriend's hold not yours, who knows when the switch happened and 2, she brought you to the infamous spot. "How stupid" You heard her chuckle as the two of you sat down and got comfortable as Lucky went off-leash around the two of you. "It was cuteee, little baby Katie all shy and stumbly" you teased her but a playful (yet threatening) glare made you gulp.

"I still remember how beautiful you looked that day" Kate sighed in awe and pulled you close to her, your head falling on her shoulder. "Stop" you blushed and she kissed your head. "I still remember the way you would always look away when Yelena caught you staring at us" this time you actually whined at the memory. "She's scary! You can't blame me! Not when her sister is Black Widow, of course she'll scare me!" you huffed against her collarbone and she shuddered.

"Baby, Yelena isnt called Ducky for no reason! Tasha I can understand, but Lena? She's a fluff ball" Kate snickered and rolled her eyes at the obvious comparison. A small bark from Lucky broke the two out of your conversation and you couldn't believe your eyes as you sat up. A small family of ducks made their way over towards the lip of the lake and Lucky sniffed the bigger one before walking off with a happy smile, layig behind Kate in the shade.

"Hi little ones! G'mornin Mama and Papa duck" you whispered in awe as the family of 7 waddled towards your area, butts shaking off the water as the little ones followed Mama. "Still as soft as ever my angel girl" Kate murmured and pulled you in for a tender kiss. The two of you stayed in your little bubble for hours until Lucky was getting angsty and losing his concentration and ignoring commands from your girlfriend.

"Buhbye little quackpots" you smiled at the flock and they returned to their watery sanctum, one of the bigger ducks hanging around the area a little longer before following it's babies and paddling off.

A little while later and you found yourself sitting on the couch blindfolded waiting for your girlfriend to return to you. Lucky was asleep on the other sofa so there wasn't even a chance of him alerting her presence. Not a sound escaped your lips while you waited, you knew better than to disobey a command. A small shuffle to the left of you had you almost turning your head but once again, she told you to not to move and stay still.

You could feel her near you, you could head her, you could smell her perfume but nothing was said. The smirk on the archer's lips was growing with every passing second, you were always so good for her. her good little pet. She let a few more seconds pass before taking pity on you and places a few delicate things in your open hands.

She got you a palette, paint and brushes. The very paint set you had been eying for weeks. Every art store was out and you quite frankly had given up on ever finding a supplier that still had it. "Baby..." you spoke in disbelief, your face twisting from shock to awe in a matter of seconds. "Paint me" Kate grabbed your chin gently and it was only then did you notice that she was in nothing but lace panties and an oversized silky top.

You nodded dumbly scrambling to get up and grab a canvas from the art room but a gentle squeeze around your wrist stopped you. "Paint me" she spoke softly and lead your hand down to her thigh. When the two of you first started dating, Kate would always let you use her back as a canvas when you ran out at home. You nodded again and mumbled out 'water, going to need water' as you raced to the kitchen to grab a container for water and steadily walked over to the couch.

"Lie down" you gently pushed her so she was laying flat on her back and started organising your paint. "I miss your art" Kate said suddenly and you sighed a little, straddling her lap facing away from her to start on her thighs. "We both know how busy we get with work and stuff for me to actually start and finish something" you traced an outline of something and you felt your girlfriend's abs tighten underneath you. Guess she was enjoying this as much as you were.

"We need a year long vacation" she let out a humourus laugh underneath you and you had to focus so hard on the art currently forming on her leg. You hummed as you continued your painting, leaning forward occasionally for a colour or an area on her thigh and nearly jumped when gentle but deliberate hands placed themselves just under your butt.

"Kate- you're gonna make me lose focus" you warned quietly when her hands snuck into the leg holes, snapping your panties against the soft skin underneath. "That isn't my name, and you better not mess up, I wanna take a photo of it when it's done" she teased and her hands just started roaming as you tried to concentrate on her thigh.

You took a deep breath in when you realised you needed to reach for some paint again. 100% she was gonna do something while you were bent over. You mustered up all the strength you had and bent over, reaching for the paint and your hips stuttered as she ran a smooth finger over your panties, paying a little more attention to your clit.

"Please- you're gonna make me mess up" you whined when she kept her fingers where they were as you moved back to your spot atop her abs. "My good girl won't mess up, I know it, just ignore Daddy and make her thigh all pretty" Kate cooed from behind you as she slipped a finger inside your panties this time, only focusing on your little bundle of nerves.

Your hips involuntarily started grinding down on her stomach, desperate for more but a smack made them freeze instantly. "Stay still" she reprimanded and pushed that finger inside, adding another one with a smirk. You trapped your lip between your teeth and tried to continue on the painting but when she lazily circled your clit with her other hand you just about folded.

"Daddy- I can't- need more" you whimpered when she started curling them slowly. "No you don't, you need to finish your art. I told you I missed you doing it" she asnwered with fake sympathy and gently guided your hips towards her face, causing your brain to short circuit as she mumbled a 'down'. You complied easily and took a few shaky breaths in before making another attempt to paint her thigh, groaning when she used it to her advantage and slipped your panties and bottoms down to your thighs.

She removed her fingers and licked a bold stripe along your folds, sucking a particular harsh suck on your clit. "Mfhpm" you groaned as you fell into her non painted thigh. "Keep painting lovey" she mumbled against you and you whimpered and raised your hips to stop the stimulation. "Down" she commanded with much more authority this time and your hips stuttered as she pulled them onto her face. There was no way you were gonna finish this painting.

"Make it pretty baby, Daddy wants to show her friends how talted her baby is" Kate spoke lowly before pushing her tongue in your pussy, occasionally sucking. At one point you thought you were suffocating her with how hard you were pushing your hips into her face. No matter how much you tried to escape her torture, she kept you in your place and kept her pace steady. Your slick coated her lips and chin and she was still lazily eating you out. She didn't care.

"I'm n-nearly finished" you stuttered out as you reached over one more time for the final few stokes of the colour in use. Your girlfriend used that for one last opportunity to slide three fingers in and curl them on your sweet spot, completely catching you off guard. A low pornographic moan left your lips and she smirked at the sound. "You're lucky I didn't ask you do paint in silence" she hummed and took her fingers out as you finished her leg. "All done" you sat upright on her abs and looked over your shoulder.

She sat up (with you in her lap) and admired the art, a fond smile gracing her lips. "Just as beautiful as the artist" she turned you around to face her and stole your lips in a needy kiss. One of her hands snuck up towards your neck and she held your face gently before pushing it up so your neck was exposed. "Now let Daddy paint her canvas" she mumbled and started marking your neck in dark angry bruises. Safe to say, you both forgot about taking a photo of the painting and the couch had a colourful flower imprint on it the next day.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #kate x reader #kate bishop x female reader #belovaskitkat #riabear!

[khalixascorner]

im having a hard time finding sim!tony starker fics... any recommendations? thank u in advance!

Ok so I have a lot of recommendations lol.

If you enjoy dark (and I mean dark) SIM, then Basil has a ton of short fics. The whole collection is here.

Highlander_II writes a lot of canon aligned SIM, found here.

I also write a fair amount of SIM (all different flavors) if you want to just browse my profile (found here).

The Darkness in Me is a fun/dark two part where there's SIM, Tony, and Peter.

@authoressofdarkness has a lot I really like but the ones that come to mind for SIM both are WIPs.

Guide Me Safely to Shore is a soul mate story and Beauty and the Beast. Both feature a villainous Tony and hero Peter.

Baby Bats has a ton as well so just check their profile but mind the tags depending on your preference. @babybatscreationsv2 is a talented writer who writes across the spectrum of tags and genres.

@the-mad-starker and @graceful-starker have both written a few as well that are all really good so I'll just drop their profile links too. (hopefully the filter sort stayed on the link, but if not, just filter for superior iron man).

Mads. Gracie

@ursafootprints has one that's ongoing that I'm dying for the resolution. Mind the tags though because it's a dark incest fic. Double Blind

Late addition because I was rushing. Askmyknives also writes sim and you can find them here.

Ready is a hot little coffee shop AU one shot.

Devotion, absolution, desire is a really good dark smutty piece.

Blinding lights is a vampire soul mate AU that I adore.

Collared Innocence by StarkerKeyz is a super hot and also kinda cute soul mate story. I reread it regularly.

Anyways, if I forgot anyone, I'm sorry but these are some of what comes to mind!

#fic recs #starker #superior!iron man #sim tony

[puhpandas]

GGY Week Day 2: Comfort

Gregory has to deal with his injury from trapping the mimic and everything else that comes with the experience after dealing with GGY and the Pizzaplex. His injury also took away one of his only escapes. Hurray.

Gregory didnt even get to finish his long, drawn out miserable groan before Vanessa opens the door to his room and comes inside.

He's still doing it when she shuts the door behind her and makes her way to his bed. He doesn't look away from his phone, which he's holding in his lap, even when she approaches.

She wordlessly ducks her head to look at what's on his screen, and when she gets a look at it, that's finally when he finishes.

He frowns, miserably looking at his phone screen. "The Soccer team seems to be having a great time without me."

It had been an impulsive decision one day at school (after he managed to get enrolled again) to join the team after he'd seen a flyer. It had made so much sense at the time. Gregory loved running, (and was very fast for his age), was good at kicking, although for the wrong reasons, and was very tired of being stuck inside with plenty of opportunities to remember everything terrible that's ever happened to him with no breaks.

Ness had been proud of him, that he'd taken a leap like that. Gregory knows how much Vanessa struggles with social interaction after Vanny. Gregory... he was afraid to join the team at first, not because of social anxiety, but for a completely different reason. Rab kept entering his mind, because the last time he made friends...

He... he had been tired of sitting around being nothing but afraid, though. So he did it anyway, and ignored all anxiety digging a hole in his stomach about Rab to try and prove himself wrong.

And it worked. He loved soccer, was great for his team, at least his teammates thought so, and was great with the other kids.

Besides school itself, it's one of the only things he has that gets him out. Out of everything. The house, his head, his funk... Its something important to him. It's a hobby that doesn't have an ulterior motive, like robotics does. He does that because hes good at it, likes it just fine, but also because Freddy needs a guy good with robots to give him the scheduled maintenance he needs to stay functional, and Gregory would sooner jump off the catwalks in Monty Golf than leave Freddy without that.

But soccer... he doesnt have an adult reason to be there. Its fun. He has friends there after so long of having none out of fear and a way to put all of his skills he learned for the wrong reasons to good use. He feels normal there. Like everything with Rab and Tony and Ellis and his parents can be pushed to the back of his mind to just. Have fun. Be a kid.

And now, he's stuck in bed.

It's a little harder to see with how the sunlight from his open blinds glares on his screen, but he gets it clear as day. The team sent him a Snap just to update him on how they're doing while Gregory is away. It's a picture of them on the field, uniforms dirty and cheeks scraped and smiles on their faces. He can feel the adrenaline and good kind of exhaustion through the screen, having experienced it.

Vanessa doesnt respond for a second, just nodding grimly and patting him on the leg. "Sorry to hear that." She says, all formal like she does. Then, "Would some ice cream make you feel better?"

Normally, he'd light up, but he hasnt felt it like that in a while. He nods anyway, a small smile on his face. "Of course."

She goes to the kitchen to make them some. While shes gone, he keeps staring at the picture, feeling the will to get back on the field so strongly but unable to.

When she comes back, it's with two big bowls of ice cream, one scoop for her, and three for Gregory. She knows him well. He takes it from her, once again not looking away from his phone.

She sits next to him on his double bed (one that Vanessa for some reason already had on hand in his room that looked like it hadn't been touched in years) and makes herself comfortable. He leans his head against the wall, his hair brushing up against stray peeling corners of drawings he has hung up.

He sighs through his nose, taking a bite of ice cream and looking through his friends Snap stories. It's all different pictures and point of views of happy faces and the soccer game.

Vanessa hums, looking over his shoulder and working away at her own ice cream. She swallows, then, "Hows your leg?"

Gregory frowns, looking at it. "Fine." He says, but he knows he should give Vanessa a better answer. "Okay, its... its healing good. I try to keep still, but it's hard. Especially because its itching all the time."

"...It doesn't hurt?" Vanessa asks after a second. Gregory can hear the worry in her tone, even though shes trying to hide it. He doesnt blame her. They'd both had worries about its severity when it had still been fresh.

An image of the bloody mess the wound had first been when he got it flashes in his mind, and he shoves it down just as quick. "No." He tells her honestly. "I mean. Besides the sore part... it seems fine."

Vanessa deflates ever so slightly next to him. He knows its relief; Its been this way for the past multiple weeks. Probably months by now. She smiles, although her eyes still look tired, and reaches over to lightly ruffle his hair. "That's good." She says. "Means you'll be able to get back to the field pretty soon."

He nods, but his heart must've not been in it, because then Vanessa is scrutinizing him. He keeps looking at his phone, sighing again. His brows furrow, and every time he sees that picture of the whole team, any will he has to get back on the field with his friends is snuffed out as quick as it comes. It's like he has a flame he's desperately kindling to keep alive, and then someone comes over and dumps a bucket of water on it. Its upsetting.

"How are you doing?" She then asks, nudging him.

Gregory jolts slightly, finally putting his phone down. He stares into his bowl of melting ice cream. "Um..."

He trails off, and Vanessa picks it back up. "Would you want to get back on the field if you could right now?"

Gregory gets taken off guard, gaping at Vanessa for a moment. She hit the nail right on the head. He shouldn't be suprised, at this point. She knows him better than himself, and same with him to her.

He sighs. "...No."

Gregory isnt looking at Vanessa, but can hear her spoon scraping against her bowl. "Why not?"

Gregory doesn't respond right away, just thinking about everything. "It--" He cuts himself off. "I... I'm not feeling it."

Vanessa doesn't respond, so Gregory keeps going. "What happened... it was really bad." He says. "Even if I didn't have this stupid injury, I dont think I'd just be able to..."

"To keep going with life like nothing happened?" Vanessa finishes for him. "I get it, Gregory. Okay? It was just like that for me when I was first freed."

A small bit of pride swells inside Gregory at hearing Vanessa able to talk about it so easily. She doesnt even stutter anymore. It's still not as easy for him. He looks over at her. "It was?"

She nods. "You and Freddy had time to adjust and process. But I..." She trails off, looking like shes remembering every bit. "I just had to keep going so I could make us money. I had to go back to work pretty quickly, and I just... wasnt ready for a routine yet."

Gregory frowns, fidgeting with the strap of his watch. "That sucks."

Vanessa nods. "Yeah." She agrees. "What you went through, Gregory... it's not just something you can brush past."

Gregory sighs through his nose, resignation souring his insides. Against his will, he feels his eyes burn. He thought he was done with this whole getting traumatized and healing stuff. He just wants it to be over. "...I know."

"What I mean is that it's okay to take some time." Vanessa tells him, setting a hand on his arm. "You may not want to, but forcing yourself is even worse than taking time away." She says. "Processing something enough to move past it takes time."

Gregory nods wordlessly, remembering going through regaining his memories on top of dealing with the Pizzaplex. It was awful. He'd just managed to get himself to reconsider hobbies he'd barely remembered having before everything Rab came rushing back, and then he hadn't wanted to anymore, having a whole new can of worms to deal with. A worse one.

He furrows his brows, his shoulders drooping. He doesn't want to do that again. Everything was going so good. He thought they'd finally moved past it.

And then that thing had to rear its ugly head, and Gregory had to use himself as bait just to trap it in a dark hole in the basement.

His leg twitches involuntarily, and he winces at how bad it really is. He forgets it, sometimes. How even though its healing, there'd been worries of lasting damage. How Gregory had just made friends and used his talents of running and fighting to his advantage to join a sport (which eased his worried of falling out of practice as well) and that could have been fully ripped away if his leg decided to heal wrong. (He wouldnt be able to run away anymore.)

How it wasnt an easy wound to explain to the hospital. How it had been made by an eight foot tall monster with big claws and a grudge against him who'd managed to reach a bit too far into a vent a bit too long, too long for Gregory to make it out. How it'd been all his worst nightmares and the cause of everything horrible that's ever happened to him and his family in one big package with a pretty bow and it had bored into him with its red eyes and its limbs had been too long and it'd gotten ahold of his leg and dug its claws into his flesh and ripped and he was sure he was going to die--

He snaps out of it, just barely managing to realize he was spiraling before it happened. He breaths slowly, realizing it had started to get erratic. He fidgets with his watch strap, keeping his gaze away from Vanessa.

Vanessa saw. She clearly did, or she wouldn't be looking at him all worried like she is right now. She doesnt need to say anything. He knows that what just happened alone is proof that he needs to take time off to process. No matter how miserable it makes him that this is happening again when he'd just wanted to finally move on--

His body jerks, and to his horror, he can feel his throat close up and his eyes burn. He frowns deeply, trying to wipe at his face before any tears can fall. It's stupid. It's all stupid.

But before he can shove it completely down, Vanessa puts hers and his bowl onto his nightstand, and shifts her body. "None of that." She tells him, soft as silk. Before he can react, shes carefully gathering him in her arms in a hug.

Gregory tries really hard to not let that be the water that breaks the dam. He stubbornly, even though he doesnt move away from the hug, tries to keep the tears from spilling.

But eventually, it comes out.

He cries silently; that's always how it's been, but not motionlessly. His shoulders shake and jerk as tears slip past his eyelashes, and he hugs Vanessa back.

"I know it sucks." Vanessa tells him, not trying to baby him or shush him, because she knows he hates that. "That you have to keep going through this stuff over and over--" Her own voice gets choked up, and he can hear her swallow. "And I'm-- I'm sorry. But you cant let it get to you."

Gregory sniffs, nodding against her chest. He gets what she means. He cant let it get to him, as in he cant let that thing win. He cant let it ruin all that hes built for himself-- they've built for themselves because it's hard. It was hard before. It was really, really hard. Knowing that he killed all those people. That his parents are dead and his whole life was destroyed and his friend that he'd had to watch bond with not-him got killed thinking he was betrayed.

But he got past it. He got better and healed and was able to code without curling up into a ball and hyperventilating, and draw the nightmares he had to process them. It had taken time, but he was better.

He snakes an arm back to wipe at his eyes. This? Compared to Rab? This is nothing. That thing with its glowing eyes and its claws and its tunnel deep gashes in his leg that almost ruined something great in his life is nothing--

Okay, so maybe it isnt nothing. But its nothing he cant handle. Hes nothing if not stubborn, and he isnt going to let that thing take away something else. Scars or not.

"Thanks." Gregory mumbles into Vanessa's shirt. "I needed that."

"You'll get back onto the field someday." Vanessa tells him, a hand in his hair. "And your friends are gonna dogpile you when you return and you'll be able to run and score as many goals as you want."

Gregory nods, squeezing her tighter. "I'll just have to make tons of robots in robotics for now."

Vanessa chuckles, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, kid." She says. "Go on and pick up a fourth talent while you're at it, dont you."

The tears stop falling, and the tracks dry on his cheeks as he pushes against the hug, shoving at Vanessa playfully. "Its not my fault you're talentless. Don't be jealous."

She pushes back at him, careful of his healing lower half, a grin on her face. "Says the boy currently under the blanket I hand sewed for him."

Gregory laughs, shoving and pulling and pushing at Vanessa, and her back. He may not feel one hundred percent right now, but who knows how fast itll take him to heal. Theres nothing saying he wont be ready by the time his leg heals. Maybe he'll reach a new record.

Almost taking no effort, he shoves down the reminder of high scores and records being associated with Rab immediately. Even quicker, he moves past it.

ao3 link

#notes on the ao3 link! #pandas writes #my fics #gregory #vanessa #gregory fnaf #vanessa fnaf #oneshot #ggy week 2024

[celestialnxva]

Unexpected

Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: The Avengers never thought in a million years that anyone would put up with Stephen Strange, so naturally they’ll want answers as to why you happened to be his partner.

Warnings: typical-canon violence and some angst at the beginning, but don’t worry because it gets pretty lighthearted.

Timeline: post-endgame au where everyone lives.

WC: 3k+ words

A/n: the reader is a powerful witch btw. If you want information about the reader in MCU, read here.

dr. strange masterlist. | main masterlist.

Stephen was so incredibly tired. Anyone would feel like that if they spent five years fighting nonstop to defeat a giant purple alien threatening to destroy the universe. As much as he wanted to go to sleep, he still had to fight the endless amount of aliens that Thanos commanded.

When he looked around him, he watched in silent pride as many of his friends fought valiantly alongside him. Each person contributed to the battle in their own way, and from the way the battlefield looks, he could only assume that they were going to win this battle quite soon.

Yet, he was afraid, worried about Tony. Even though this is the only outcome in which they win this battle, Tony was going to have to sacrifice himself in order to defeat Thanos and his armies. His fears only doubled when he saw Captain Marvel fighting Thanos on her own. He could only watch helplessly as Tony slowly looked over towards where Stephen was preventing the ocean from flooding the battlefield. When they finally made eye contact, Stephen held up his finger, silently conveying to Tony that he was the key factor to winning this war. Understanding his message, the armored man quickly rushed over to where Thanos stood with his arm already inside Tony’s gauntlet. These events were all he had expected.

What he didn’t expect, however, was your sudden appearance beside him.

His heart dropped. You weren’t supposed to be here. He purposefully left you out of this battle so you could be safe, yet here you were, stubborn as ever to fight for the sake of the greater good. He watched as you worked with Tony in determination to take the stones away from Thanos. However, like the Time Stone prophesied, Tony was the one who ultimately wielded all five stones. And with just one snap, the world grew quiet.

While his eyes readjusted from the sudden blinding light that spread across the battlefield, he panicked. He could care less about the enemies around him dissolving into dust. He didn’t even care about the cheers of victory his comrades shouted towards him. No, he was frantically searching for you in the midst of the dead bodies around him because the last thing he saw before the bright light came was Thanos slamming you onto the ground repeatedly until you were unconscious.

His frantic eyes searched for you, his beloved, the only one who inspired him to push himself harder for five years straight, just so he could see you again. Now that it’s over, he might not even be able to hold you in his arms ever again. He tried not to distract himself from that depressing thought as he pushed his way through the crowd of Avengers. However, when he finally made it through, he wasn’t expecting you to not only be alive, but to also be strong enough to nurse Tony back to full health with your water magick. His eyes widened in shock. This was not something he foresaw in this outcome. Was this ending allowed?

Everyone talked amongst themselves while your watery hand hovered over Tony’s cheek and sealed the last of the cracks on his face. You smiled at him faintly, not wanting to show to anyone how absorbing the Infinity Stones’ powers inside Tony in order to heal him had almost killed you as well. But, magick always came with a price, and you of all people understood that. You lowered your hand and collapsed tiredly against the large, upturned rock while Tony stood up. A woman you assumed to be Tony’s wife ran up to him and cried onto his shoulder in relief as a wave of people made their way over to hug Tony in gratitude.

You didn’t blame them for not caring about your condition. They barely knew you, since Stephen refused to talk about you or even let you participate in this war, but you were just grateful that you were able to break Stephen’s protection spells and make it to the battlefield in time. You smiled at the thought of Stephen finally being back after five years without him. Though your thoughts were peaceful, your body was still struggling to process the foreign power coursing within you, so you needed to think quickly about where to transfer this power.

Stephen was too busy thinking inside his head about how on earth you ended up in an outcome that he did not foresee. From what he knew about the Mystic Arts, what you did was supposed to be impossible. But his thoughts dissipated away when he heard the sounds of your pained grunts on the ground. He looked down at you crawling over to where Tony’s fried gauntlet was while your hands radiated the bright colors of the Infinity Stones. He was too afraid to even touch or approach you because he still couldn’t believe the you were here, right in front of him.

After you took Tony’s gauntlet into your hand, you shakily slammed your hand onto the five stones, causing bright lightning to spark and the warbling sound of sheer power to resonate across the entire battlefield. Immediately, this got everyone’s attention, a mixture of curious and fearful eyes turning towards you with the hope that you would be able to survive too. When all the power was finally transferred back into the stones, everything stopped and you collapsed onto the ground with a series of terrible coughs of blood. Everyone around Stephen immediately rushed over to you, Steve already assigning tasks to the others on how to get you to the hospital as quickly as possible. This was Stephen’s last straw. Nobody was going to take you away from him any longer.

He impatiently shoved everyone out of his way, not caring anymore if he sounded too rude to everyone else. This was all about his partner and he was about to be the only one out of everyone who didn’t get his happy-ever-after. All he wanted to do was cry in frustration about your condition, but he had to stay strong for you.

When he finally shoved Steve out of the way, his breath hitched in the back of his throat when he saw you bloodied and weakened from what you just did. When your eyes finally made eye contact with your husband’s, you felt like your whole world fell apart and rebuilt itself back up all over again. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or if you wanted to slap him for being dead for five years.

“Stephen…” you trailed off, your eyes filled with the unspoken and raw emotion he knew you only had for him. Oh, how he missed staring into your beautiful eyes. Both of you didn’t care that you now had a crowd that was watching you two interact. But before you could hear him say anything back, your eyes blurred as your world suddenly went dark.

———

When you woke up, you had been informed by Rhodey that you were unconscious for four days now. You weren’t surprised, as those Infinity Stones really did drain you, but you knew you were going to be fine. When you asked about how your husband was doing, Rhodey only gave you a tired sigh and offered for you to come see him yourself. His offer only worried you more, so you accepted. He carefully set you into a wheelchair and took you to the living room, where you could see some of your friends awkwardly observing Stephen. You reached out to grab Rhodey’s hand and silently requested him to stand behind the door so you both could listen in on what the others were saying. He chuckled at your request but did as he was told. You two leaned in to listen.

“I’m not gonna lie here, Strange. I’ve never seen you so stressed out. Since when did you started caring about people?” You heard Tony say sarcastically to your husband. You suppressed a giggle at his words. “It’s none of your business, Stark,” your husband growled out. From his shaky, hoarse voice, you could tell that he’s been up for days in complete distress. Poor Stephen. The others protested to his words at the same time.

- “Why won’t you tell us??”

- “Is (y/n) really so horrible to the point where you can’t even tell us who they are to you?”

- “Why do you care about them so much?”

“Wait,” Steve cried out, immediately silencing the others. You heard him take a step forward. “Do you love (y/n), Strange?” he asked suspiciously. Everyone fell into a tense silence as they waited in anticipation for what Stephen had to say. You looked up at Rhodey and he knew it was your cue to go inside.

Before Stephen could say anything, you entered the silent room with Rhodey and it took everything within him not to cry out in relief. You looked as healthy as you could be. You saw how his eyes softened slightly towards you and you, in turn, smiled softly back at him. “Hi Stephen,” you said sweetly, causing the man to stutter in his arrogant stature. Just from one greeting from you, he was already melting like putty. He really missed you. He greeted you back, but he couldn’t hide from you the clear tension he had from holding back his feelings for you in front of the others. The other Avengers watched you interact with him suspiciously, Tony being the only one to be completely amused by this situation. He has waiting for a chance to make fun of Stephen and now was finally his chance.

“What were you all talking about?” you asked, feigning innocence. Rhodey snorted under his breath as he settled you next to where Stephen sat on the couch. Stephen’s hands twitched in his lap, desperately wishing to touch you. Steve coughed in embarrassment. “Uhh… nothing, (y/n). We were just talking about how we hoped that you would wake up soon and—“

“Wait, I thought we were talking about the wizard man having a crush on Mx. (Y/n)?” Thor asked innocently. (Was it innocent, though? Nobody would ever know). Everyone grew silent and felt the wrath of Stephen’s glare before they all looked at you sheepishly. You blinked a few times at Thor’s blunt words while Stephen tried to explain himself.

“W-well, uh. You see… (Y/n)—“

You leaned back in your wheelchair and chuckled at your husband.

“You have a crush on me, Stephen?” you gasped lightly, amusement sparkling in your eyes. He was about to utter more grumpy protests until your bandaged hand reached out to caress his cheek. All previous stress and anger melted away the moment he felt your skin against his and his eyes shone bright with unyielding love and adoration for you. He couldn’t hide his affection for you any longer. He turned his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand with all the tenderness that he could muster up for you. “I should hope that our wedding vows would be enough for you to figure out that answer, Mx. Strange,” he shyly replied back. He was practically gushing from one sentence and a simple cheek caress from you. Though it was humorous to hide your marriage for so long from everyone else, you were relieved to finally be able to show your affections for him in public.

Meanwhile, everyone was shocked beyond belief.

“Okayyyy, pause on the romcom scene,” Tony stated while everyone was murmuring in confusion. You chuckled and looked at the others. You felt Strange tense up again, so you gestured for him to come to you. He smiled gratefully and simply wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your neck. He could hear Tony’s disgusted groans and Peter and Thor’s ‘awww’s’ but he just couldn’t care anymore. You were finally in his arms again.

Tony crossed his arms. “So let me get this straight. Since the time I knew Strange and you, you guys have been hiding the fact that you two were married? Why?” You shrugged nonchalantly while you slowly rubbed your husband’s back. “Many people wanted him dead and many people wanted me dead. If word got out that we were each other’s weaknesses, all of our enemies would have a field day,” you mused. Your husband sat up properly and turned to glare at everyone. “Exactly. And if Thanos was your first rodeo with intergalactic, powerful beings that want to destroy the universe, think about how all of our enemies want do the exact same thing, or worse— destroy the multiverse,” he boasted grumpily. You hummed and pat his back lovingly. He wasn’t going to get away with being arrogant in front of you this time. “That, and this stubborn man here wants every one of you to think that he has no weaknesses because he wants to be superior to everyone! Isn’t that right, darling?” You cooed innocently while pinching his cheek.

Everyone just stood there stunned as they watched you exchange loving coos to a man who they thought was unreachable, and watched as said man grumbled and pouted when you doted on him. Witnessing this was a bit of a whiplash for them, they had to admit. They stayed silent for what felt like a very long time before one of them spoke up. 

“Um, Mx. Strange?” Peter called out timidly. You stopped your attacks towards Stephen and looked back at the young Avenger. “Yes, Peter Parker?” He smiled back at you nervously before shuffling his feet. He was probably going to get in trouble for this question, but he really had to know. He looked at Tony before looking back at you. “Is Doctor Strange like really soft like a teddy bear or is he always really mean to everyone?” he blurted out quickly before mimicking gluing his mouth shout. Everyone burst into laughter, Tony’s laugh being particularly heard in the room. Peter started apologizing profusely to everyone in the room while Thor used this outburst as a cue for him to walk up to you. He knelt down in front of you and took your hand into his own. “I would only hope that your husband is treating you like you are royalty, for it is the duty of a husband to make sure that a beautiful creature such as yourself is treated as such,” he said smoothly to you before leaning down to kiss the back of your hand in reverence. You choked at his action and stuttered out a series of compliments back towards the god, as you weren’t exactly sure how to process the fact that an actual god is giving you such high compliments. 

That, and with how jealous you could see Stephen getting from the corner of your eye, you couldn’t help but selfishly indulge a little in the compliments Thor gave you. 

While you simply watched the god kiss your hand, you decided to answer Peter’s question. “Since my husband is in the room right now, I would rather not answer that question, as I would actually like to be able to sleep in the same bed as him tonight,” you joked lightheartedly. Looking down at the man before you, you slowly slipped your hand from his gasp and pat his cheek. Thor took the hint, stood up, and walked back to his place behind the couch. Stephen immediately grabbed onto the hand Thor was kissing earlier and started to rub it, as if he was actually trying to scrub off Thor’s kisses. You turned your head to stare at him in confusion, but he only leaned in to kiss your lips in a brief, but passionate kiss. Stephen pulled away and glared at everyone. “I’ll have you know that our marriage and relationship is none of your guys’ business. This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you guys about our relationship,” he growled out irritatedly. In response, you hushed him, patting his hand to calm him down. To everyone in the room, it was like you were the sun itself and Stephen was as icy and dark as the moon was. You two were opposites, through and through. 

Rhodey walked back into the room and handed you a glass of water and you took it gratefully. He sat down next to Tony while you sipped your water. “So wizard,” Tony started, already receiving a frown from your husband. “How’s it like to be in a relationship with someone who is better at magic than you?” he challenged, wishing to relish Stephen’s embarrassment for just a while longer. Stephen grew furious when Tony spoke up, but when he finally processed his question, he calmed down. Instead of lashing out, he grew smug. “Actually, it’s amazing. (Y/n) is the most powerful witch I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and it’s almost unbelievable that I get to call them mine.” As if to emphasize his point, he leaned down to kiss your hand tenderly before he looked back up at you. “They are mine...”

He looked at you like you held his entire world in your hands. He trusted you with his life, just as much as you trusted your life with his. Despite how different you two were, you two were always a team. It had taken you too many years to get to the stable marriage you both now enjoyed, and all those years of hardship and heartbreak was worth enduring when you got to feel his lips against your skin and hands intertwined with yours. You were his and he was yours. No one and nothing else mattered, as long as you two were together.

You heard someone clear their throat and you both turned to where Steve sat, his own face red from the situation he had gotten himself into. “Well, I guess we should leave you both to it, then?” He declared. The rest of the Avengers grumbled and proceeded to leave the room after Steve indirectly told them to leave you both alone, for now.

When all of them left the room, Stephen finally let out a sigh of relief that he had been holding in since he saw you. He immediately pulled you into a loving embrace, clinging onto you as if you were about to flutter away from him at any moment. “Finally, alone time,” he grumbled against your skin. Lovingly, you pet his hair, making sure he felt all the love you had to give him in your embrace. You were content in staying like this for the rest of the night, but of course, your stubborn husband had other plans in mind.

When he thought you were surely about to fall asleep in his arms, he started kissing down your neck, causing you to groan out in protest. “Noooooo,” you whined out teasingly, trying to tug yourself away from him. He, of course, refused to let this go and excitedly stood up to grip onto your wheelchair handles. “Come on, darling. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he said cheekily before speeding down the hallway towards the golden portal at the end of the hall. You laughed happily and gripped onto the handle bars tightly, your wedding ring glinting brighter than before. Though he will always be an arrogant man to everyone he meets, he is your arrogant man, and you wouldn’t have it any other way; avengers or enemies be damned.

#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #dr strange #dr strange x reader #multiverse of madness #avengers endgame #avengers infinity war #doctor strange #marvel #doctor strange x reader #oneshot #fanfic #writing #avengers x reader

[ursafootprints]

Title: double-blind Wordcount: 5,653 Rating: E Work Tags: Noncon, Starkercest, Villain/SIM Tony, Identity Porn, mind alllll the tags on this one when you click through friends

"Getting my guys arrested is one thing. Destroying my things is one thing," Tony said, and he didn't reach out for Peter's mask. He just watched, almost bored, as the tendrils of his suit wrapped themselves even tighter around Peter's limbs and Peter whimpered with the agonizing pressure. "But breaking into my home? My family home, that I share with my son?" Peter's heart felt like it stopped as his dad's expression twisted into a snarl, and he yelped with panic and pain alike as the tendrils roughly dragged him around on the carpet until he was splayed at his dad's knees. "That, I'm going to have to hurt you for." When Peter Stark starts to suspect that his dad might be at the helm of the crime ring he's secretly investigating as Spider-man, his decision not to confront Tony directly spirals into major consequences for the both of them.

#starker #starkercest #my fic #nff

[testingthewatersss]

I never lost him Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort ft. Steve Rodgers. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 4 2960 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Post TWS Steve realises that he's not the only one looking for Sargent Barnes. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

It turns out, Bucky has cooked.

When Y/N turns up outside the safe house, hiding from the rain under the door frame, it’s already getting dark.

She knocks three times, and hears the chain being slid across a second before the door opens just wide enough, for her to see his face, smiling shyly in the crack.

“Hey, doll” he murmurs, ushering her inside;

She wastes no time in throwing her soaked leather jacket to the floor, pulling her hair down from the pony tail it’s been in for most of the afternoon.

When she looks up again, she sees him stood, watching her nervously from his position.

“Sweetheart” she coos, reaching over to hold his hands, “What’s that face for?”

The pout he’s wearing is blatant. He tries to mask it by faking a tight lipped smile.

Metal fingers curl around her own, he shifts a little, trying to coax her into a hug.

“Missed you today” is what he manages to whisper into her hair, when she finally takes the hint, and shuffles into his chest, “I…I made dinner, I-I’m not sure if it’s edible yet, but uh- I tried.”

Y/N can feel his heart hammering, his pulse is racing. She presses her lips against his throat, kissing it gently.

He gulps, eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine” she tells him quietly, “and if it isn’t- we’ll order in”

He chuckles silently, nuzzling into her the best he can.

She can smell adrenaline on his skin, she can sense the anxiousness in his posture.

It’s heart wrenching.

“What’s the matter?” she murmurs, pulling back to consider him properly, “Huh, Buck? What’s gotten you so upset today?”

Her palms are hot on his cheeks now, even though he doesn’t remember letting them go.

“…I…” he begins, “I… just, I’ve missed you…”

That’s the same answer as the one he’d given her before, but it sounds different some how. It sounds sadder, and all she can think to do is lean up to kiss him.

He whimpers against her lips, holding her against him for as long as he can, earnestly relishing in the affection.

“‘m here now” she says, “‘m not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

Bucky feels himself nodding, brain still half in a daze from the contact.

The meal he’s made is edible.

It’s pasta, with a sauce he’d found the recipe for in the back of one of Y/N’s magazines.

They hadn’t had any double cream, so he’d used half and half, and he’d never heard of the cheese they’d suggested, so he’d left that out all together.

“It’s good” Y/N beams, “It’s really good, Buck”

He blushes down at her- she’s half in his lap, his arm is draped around her waist as he picks at his own plate with absolute disinterest.

It’s her he’s focused on, the weight of her is grounding, she’s warm and real and lovely.

He’d never eat again, if it meant she’d stay by his side.

She doesn’t want that, though, he knows she worries about him, so he feeds himself mechanically, whilst letting his gaze linger on her face.

The radio is playing a soft song he doesn’t recognise, and the hazy light that had been coming through the cracks in the blinds is gone completely, meaning its only the one, orange desk lamp illuminating the space.

Once the plates are washed and dried, and she’s back, curled up against his chest, she decides to broach the subject she’s been waiting to bring up;

“I spoke to Steve today”

He tenses a little, but his fingers continue trailing up, and down her arm.

“I should hope so, doll” he jokes, “since you’re livin’ with the guy”

“You know what I mean” she jests, shifting a little so they’re face to face, “I told you earlier, he read the file, and the letter.”

He sighs, letting his eyes close for a second as his brow falls against hers.

“He’s not upset with you” she tells him, “He knows it wasn’t your fault”

Bucky feels himself grimace. He wants to argue but knows rehashing everything would be pointless.

“and” Y/N continues, “I spoke to Tony- about you coming back with me.”

She watches him freeze. The shift in him is instant, even in the poor lighting.

He stammers out an “I can’t” before stealing his jaw, nostrils flaring as he sucks in deep breathes through his nose, to try and stop himself from hyperventilating.

“Bucky-”

“I-I-I, oh, oh god-”

“Stop” she insists, reaching up to stroke his cheeks, “please don’t panic”

He’s way past panicking.

He can barely think, anymore.

His lip quivers, he grits his teeth, and screws his eyes shut for a second, before he blinks them open, wide and petrified as he looks at her.

Her chest aches.

“….I can’t keep leavin’ you here, sweetheart…”

Her voice is almost a purr, her fingers are still tracing his face

“….and it’s safer, it’s so much safer at the tower…”

Bucky is still watching her like a wounded stray. He’s totally torn between wanting to cower in a corner, and wanting to hold her tighter, and beg her never to leave him alone again.

“…I promise, baby, it’ll be okay, everything’s alright-”

“-Y-you’re brother—and- and, Steve and, the- the others I- I don't think-”

“My brother” she soothes, her thumb brushing over his chin, “has a hot temper, but he gets it now, Buck and Steve, loves you, he just wants you safe-”

His head shakes a fraction, as if too fight off the temptation her words are breading in his core.

There isn’t anything he wants more than to believe that he could stand a chance at being safe, and happy with her, without having to dread the moment she has to go, and leave him alone in world he barely understands.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me this is working for you.”

Her voice snaps him back to reality, the room that’s so familiar seems to melt away, and suddenly, all Bucky can see is Y/N, the woman he loves so desperately.

He wants to assure her that he’s okay. That he’s coping on his own, with her visiting whenever they have time.

He thinks, she’d be proud of him, if that was true, and that’s all he wants, but it’s not, it’s not true at all, so the words won’t come. He just blinks at her, and feels tears filling his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart-” Y/N soothes, seeing his devastation increasing so rapidly, “-You’re alright-”

“I’m sorry” he whispers, voice cracking, “I-I’m s-sorry”

Her head shakes, she guides him in for a hug, letting her hands slip around to his back a split second before it starts to heave.

It’s almost instant, Bucky suddenly feels like a such disappointment- Being unable to convince her of his well-being has made him so hyper aware of his real, glaring fear that she’s going to see him the way he sees himself, as something that’s broken, that’s been used and discarded.

He really is sorry. He feels like such a burden that he can take it, he tries to apologise again, but he knows he’s not actually speaking out-loud.

That only intensifies his need to plead for forgiveness, his mouth is bone dry- the plates in his arms fold down with metallic grating, moan.

“You haven’t done anythin’ wrong” Y/N tells him, knowing he needs to hear it, “You don’t have to be sorry, baby, I promise, it’s okay-”

He starts to sob, burying his nose in her neck, clinging to her shirt like a child.

She’s telling him it’s okay. The idea of her abandoning him is intolerable. She’s the only thing making it anywhere close to okay.

“I know your scared-”

“I-I don’t-I-I can’t be on m-my own a-anymore-I- I- I can’t- it-it’s-too, too much-don’t- god, please-doll, p-please don’t leave me-”

The confession and request come quickly, before he can swallow them down-

It sickens him to hear it, to hear himself gushing like that, along side fractured whimpers.

“I know it’s too much” Y/N agrees, still stroking across the back of his ribs, “I know it is, I’m not goin’ anywhere, I promise, take some deep breathes for me, okay? I’m not leaving you here, again.”

He clutches her tighter. Nodding to try and convince himself that she means what she’s saying.

She won’t leave me, She won’t leave me, She won’t leave me, She won’t leave me.

Those words loop around his head like a prayer, they fight against the bitter sting of fear that’s made it’s home in his chest.

His lungs hurt, he’s gasping and choking on air, but she’s asked him to try and breathe deeply, and so he does, he does his best not to splutter too much on the exhale.

“I love you” he cries, needing her to know, “I -l-love you, I- I’m sorry-I- I’m sorry I’m like this- I-I’m tryin’- I’m tryin’ to b-breathe-”

Her head shakes, she hushes him and tells him that she loves him too, that she knows how hard it is for him, right now.

“I-I’ll try- w- with you” he stammers, “I-I’ll do-what-whatever you want”

Her lips meet his tearstained cheek. She shakes her head again.

“We’ll talk about it when you’re feelin’ better” she murmurs, “We have options, it’s not just my choice”

Bucky sniffs bravely, pulling back from the safe space he’s found in the crook of Y/N’s neck.

His eyes are blood-shot, lashes wet, a tear rolls off his nose, even more stream down his cheeks in uneven rivets.

“Hey, handsome” she coos, running her hands across from the nape of his neck, so that she can start to clean his face with her palms, “shall we get you some water?”

The shake of his head is slow, he sniffles again, gulping.

“I…I- love you”

Even with the waiver in his voice, Y/N can’t help but smile as leans in, kissing his brow.

It’s warm, he leans into the contact.

“I love you too” she promises, using her sleeve to swipe under his eyes, “That’s why, I think we should talk about this another time.”

He shakes his head, and she can’t help but sigh.

Despite his emotional condition she knows he’s too stubborn to leave this undecided, she knows he won’t settle until they’ve gotten a plan in place.

She can’t blame him really, anxiety is something he has enough of already, without any unanswered questions nagging at his mind.

“‘m not gonna’- gonna- feel any better-‘bout it tomorrow- it-it’s always- it’s always gonna make-make me-“

“Alright” Y/N concedes, “Alright, let’s talk options.”

He nods, taking deliberately controlled breathes.

“I’m not leaving here on your own anymore-” she tells him, “- so, that’s off the table”

A tear falls from his lashes as he blinks. The urge to apologise again is almost intolerable, he feels totally responsible for their having to be options at all.

“I can move back in here” Y/N adds next, “or, we could find our own place, somewhere new-”

Instantly, he shakes his head again;

“I- I can’t take- take you away from your brother like-like that- I- can’t be the reason he loses y-you too-”

“I’m a grown woman” she replies calmly, “and he’s not losing me, just because I stop living in the same house, just like you don’t lose me, when I’m not spending the night.”

She leans in, her palms drift down to his jaw and she rubs her nose against his, knowing he needs the affection to stay grounded.

He does need it. He feels his fingers furling against her hips, even though he doesn’t remember placing them there.

“I-I don’t-I don’t want you to m-move for me” he whispers, “I k-know you work from the labs there- I-I know- how important it- it is for you to be there”

“You-” she says,”-are important to me.”

He feels his cheeks prickling, he’s sure that if he wasn’t already flushed, he’d be blushing.

“I’m just scared- Y/N/N-“ he hears himself say, “-I know it-it makes sense, me- me comin’ back with you, but- there- there are so many people, there-and I- I- did- I did so many things the-they all-”

“Every single person in that building knows you didn’t mean to do anything.”

Bucky's gaze drops again, he looks small, she thinks, he looks lost and vulnerable.

She swipes her thumbs up over his cheek bones, trying to coax it back to her;

“I didn’t mean too” he agrees quietly, before blinking back at her, “but I did, I did do it, Y/N- I- I killed all those people, y-youre parents and-I-I- shot Natasha, and I- I made Steve-“

“Stop”

He does stop. His words die in his throat.

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart” she soothes, feeling his neck start to droop, “I know it hurts, I know it feels like it was, but I promise you- it wasn’t.”

She takes his silence as a victory.

“Is Tony, who you’re most worried about?”

Surprisingly, she believes him, when he whispers out a “No”

“‘m not worried ‘bout him” he continues, “he, he can hate me all h-he want’s I-I don’t- don’t blame him, a-and I- I-I think if he w-wanted me dead- he’d have killed me already-”

“he doesn’t want you dead”

“He should.”

“Well” she sighs, “he doesn’t, and it wouldn’t matter, even if he did, because contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t get everything he wants.”

Bucky forces a tight lipped smile, and feels his head throbbing.

“Baby, what is it that’s gotten you so worked up about this? Yesterday, you said you just wanted Steve to be sure about you comin’ in”

“I know” he agrees, guilty again, “I just-I- I didn’t know h-how-I-I’d feel w-when I- when I knew he’d read th-that file”

“I did tell ya’ that awful was probably the most likely”

That makes him scoff, sad but agreeing.

She had warned him, she’d sat with him and explained how terrible it was going to be for him to know that his oldest friend knew the details in those papers, even if they were far from comprehensive.

“and the letter could’ve been less emotive”

He actually manages to roll his eyes at that, which makes a small smile creep across her lips.

“Y-you said he was okay?”

“He’s fine” she affirms, “He’s worried about you, Buck- that’s all- he just wants to know you’re alright”

“He wants to see me” he counters, “that’s why he’s been’ makin’ Romanoff help him track me for the past 4 months”

“Well, I think he’d like to see you, yes” she agrees, “but he’s promised to be patient, I could smuggle you into the room and I’d trust him to stay away-”

“That’d be cruel- kids got no self control, he’d go mad tryin’ to keep that promise”

There’s a jovial lilt to his voice that she loves, she pecks a kiss to his cheek, and is pleased to feel that they’re not nearly as hot as they were a few moments before.

“Then you let him see you” she suggests, “he knows you need space, I really think once he sees you, Buck- When he realises you’re alright, he’ll be better about not bein’ so mother-hen-”

“You don’t know him like I do” he says, “He’s real loyal-he’s- he feels so responsible-“

“You’re both as bad as each other”

He looks at her, considerate, but quiet.

“I don’t know where you both got this obsession with holdin’ yourselves’ accountable for things’ you had no control over- Nothing that happened after you fell was your fault, and I don’t even know where to start on his feelin’ guilty’ bout it all”

Y/N runs a hand through her hair, when she’s finished speaking. She returns it to it’s previous spot agains’t cheek. He turns to kiss at her fingers.

She curls her thumb over his lips, letting him nuzzle into her wrist.

“I’ll- I’ll try- I’ll try it out”

Her head tilts when she catches his words.

“I- I’ll try, at the tower, doll but- but if it’s too much-”

“then we’ll figure somethin’ else out.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

The promise she makes comes easy. It’s clear he’s been drained by the entire interaction. The hollows under his eyes are dark, and deeper than they’ve been in a while.

“Baby, did you sleep at all last night?”

He squints at her, before shaking his head, nose tickling her palm.

Her brow furrows, concern shining behind the brown eyes she shares with her brother.

She knows he didn’t get more than a few hours the day before; when she thinks back, that must mean it’s been at least a week since he’s gotten a decent nights rest.

“Well that makes our next decision a hell of a lot easier than the last one”

He looks at her, expression muddled.

“We’re gettin’ an early night”

Y/N isn’t sure wether it’s relief or reluctance that creeps onto his face, but with his hair hanging half in front of his eyes, it’s hard for her to tell.

So, she cards it back, rubbing his temple with her thumb.

“You’re exhausted” she notes quietly, “we’ve eaten, we’ve cleaned up, there isn’t anythin’ else we need to talk about, other than how much better you’re gettin’ a cookin’”

He scoffs again, and reaches up to tangle their fingers together.

The pair manage to sleep relatively well. Bucky drifts off quickly, and even though his unconsciousness is very, very fragile, when he does startle himself awake during the night, he finds Y/N’s arms still looped around him, and he’s able to bury his face against her chest, and lull himself back to sleep.

1 | 2 | 3 | x | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #fluff #x reader #drabble #series #BBneverlosthim #angst

[fandomfanservice]

Yes I have been watching all this time 🫣😉☺️🫢😳 but Last Twilight and The Sign kind of consumed my being.

Aaanyway here we go…

Pit Babe Fandom, how are we doing?

How about a beautiful round of applause for no Ep11 curse aka P.A.I.N or Ep12 Fake out, it was just a few twists, turns and reveals.

(Mild spoilers below….)

The identity reveal for the fans was obvious, sorry but still lovely.

The reunion and return reveal for Babe, I may or may not have actually stood up and cheered (can’t wait for next week when Babe & Charlie “talk”, I wonder how they will resolve this?!! 🫣😉🫣) …

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️Mooooooving on, the team up, heist and double crossing but not was fun.

However was it just me screaming instructions at Alan like: “What about the kids Alan??”. “There is 2 of you, 2 of them, they are tiny, you can LITERALLY carry them out Alan!”. “Alan, my guy, save the damn kids, come on, like isn’t that the point of this?!” 😂😂

Alan (doesn’t even blink or look beyond his target): Simply gets what he came for, like I got my Jeff nothing else matters, nothing else to see here.

My guy is down so bad, I can’t🥰. But it doesn’t stop there, what’s worse is once Alan arrived Jeff seemed to get the same blind spot. Like seriously, stay on mission gents, go back into the love bubble after🫣😂🫣😂🫣☠️🫣☠️🫣😂😂

Sooooo, let’s be honest, am I the only fan who really felt for Kenta this week? I would like him to be redeemed and taken care of after all that but I also still want him to get punched repeatedly.

Lastly because I need to let it out, I am not a violent person by nature, but Tony and Winner (awkward cause he is the biggest loser!!!!) pretty much need to be sent to the same circle of hell and Chooper’s dad from Never Let Me Go. Can’t stand any of these mother*uckers!

Still not sure about this delulu inducing show (big plot holes, even for me) but I will be back next week cause you know

#thai boys love #thai bl #saturdaysgirl #pit babe charlie #pit babe #pit babe bl #pit babe the series #pavelpooh #pavel phoom #poohpavel #pooh krittin #bl shows #bl drama #bl series #neverletmegotheseries #never let me go the series #never let me go

[phoenixlionme]

Fictional Characters that Exude Disabilityexcellence

Toph Beifong - Blind

Teo (ATLA) - Paraplegic; wheelchair user

Korra (TLOK) - PTSD

Mirabel Madrigal (Encanto) - wears glasses; her being the giftless one among her family has been compared to that of a disabled child in an able-bodied family

Bruno Madrigal (Encanto) - confirmed to have OCD

George Bailey (It’s a Wonderful Life) - partial deafness

Milo Thatch (Atlantis the Lost Empire) - wears glasses

Izumi Curtis (FMAB) - chronic illness; missing limbs

Edward Elric (FMAB) - for most of the series, he was a double amputee (missing an arm and a leg) by the end of the series, he regained his arm but not his leg. As such, he started off as a double amputee but is now a single amputee

Lan Fan (FMAB) - arm amputee with prosthetic

Sterling Archer (Archer) - breast cancer (remission); tinnitus; implied to be autistic

Jack Russell (Bluey) - ADHD

Barbara Gordon (DC Comics) - paraplegic; wheelchair user

Victor Stone  (DC Comics) - multiple amputee

Hiccup Haddock and Toothless (HTTYD franchise) - both are amputees (Hiccup his foot; Toothless his tail) and both use prosthetics

Chimi the Skull Warrior (Maya and the Three) - albino

Rico the Rooster Wizard (Maya and the Three - stutter

Ororo Munroe (Marvel Comics) - claustrophobia

Professor Charles Xavier (Marvel Comics) - paraplegic; wheelchair user

Matt Murdock (Marvel Comics) - blind; uses mobility aid

Adam Evans (DC Comics) - dyslexia

Natsume (Deca-Dence) - arm amputee; uses prosthetic

Kitty Softpaws (Shrek/Puss in Boots franchise) - declawed

Daphne Paloma Vasquez  (Switched at Birth) - deaf

Garrett (Quest for Camelot) - blind

Sunny Nwazue (Akata Witch trilogy) - albino

Charlotte Webber (Marvel Comics) - Ehlers-Danlos syndrome; uses mobility aids (wheelchair and crutches)

Amaya (The Dragon Prince) - deaf

Alinta aka Bolt (DC Comics) - double leg amputee; uses prosthetics

Mia Dearden (DC Comics) - HIV positive

Tony Stark (Marvel Comics) - heart condition; recovering alcoholic; PTSD, trauma

Jessica Jones (Marvel Comics) - alcoholism, PTSD, depression

Alicia Masters (Marvel Comics) - blind

Irene Adler (Marvel Comics) - blind

Tim Drake (DC Comics) - asplenia (missing spleen)

Kate Kane (DC Comics) - PTSD, recovering alcoholic

Cassandra Cain (DC Comics) - autistic spectrum, mute, dyslexic

Roy Harper aka Red Arrow (DC Comics) - arm amputee, uses prosthetic; recovering drug addict

Nick Fury (Marvel Comics) - partial blindness

Clint Barton (Marvel Comics) - deaf; uses hearing aids

Maya Lopez (Marvel Comics) - deaf

#multimedia #lists #disabilityexcellence #representation matters #fav #expy idea #neurodivergentexcellence #exude excellence

[fotibrit]

"EDITH (Even Death Isn't Too Heavy)"

In a fit of boredom, I wrote the first chapter of this prompt. Please let me know if its worth continuing writing this one :)) (1700 words below the "continue reading" , youve been warned !!)

When Tony died, everything was supposed to stand still. The grass, somehow, would sense the shift and would freeze over to pay respect. The clouds shouldn’t show their face at all, unless to rain on the horrible, horrible world that now stopped turning in the wake of such a tragedy. 

Everything was supposed to stand still. The world should stop. 

But it doesn't. It seemed everything moved at double-speed, with Mister Stark gone. Of course, there was a world to clean up. Half the people on Earth had appeared in thin air, and entire cities needed to be turned into hospitals. Mass confusion reigned. Everyone turned to the avengers for answers, and nobody noticed the body of the man who had saved the world, whisked away in a black bag. 

That's all he was. A body in a bag. Everything, everything that Tony Stark ever was and ever would be, was within that bag. The bag that Peter would never see again. 

There were parties. Spider-Man was asked to a dinner at city hall, a “Celebration of Life Revived”. They asked, should he accept, that he give a speech. The city missed the vigilante, he was told. People were concerned, not having seen the web-slinger soaring through the skies after the battle. They wanted to see him, admire him, thank him for everyone he had saved. 

They even offered transportation.

There was no need. He couldn’t attend. He would be at a lake house, on the outskirts of New York. He had a funeral to attend. The “Life Revived” would have to make do without him. 

Peter tried to avoid anything to do with Tony Stark for the months after his death. He was tired, far too tired to deal with the fallout of his mentor's death. There was paperwork to be sorted, meetings with SHIELD, interviews requested, and there was the small issue of Tony’s workshops. Nobody wanted to step foot in any of them, let alone clean them up. This wouldn’t be an issue. They could stay, collect dust, become an ancient artefact. Peter was willing to turn a blind eye, forget that the rooms ever existed, distract his mind as every crumbled up bag of chips on the lab floor became a relic of a better world in which Tony Stark lived.

It doesn't matter. See if Peter cares. It's not like anyone would use Tony’s lab again. Tony’s dead. 

Dead, and never coming back. His voice fades from Peter’s memory as Peter stands, frozen, in front of the lab door. 

Unfortunately, Peter may not care if Tony’s workshop turns to dust, but SHIELD certainly does, and nobody has the energy to fight that battle with them at the moment. Valuable work needed to be preserved, some things needed to be guarded under lock and key, a few things would go to a museum, per Tony’s will.

So, Pepper asked Peter to clean it out. “Just glance over everything. See if anything stands out. God knows I don’t understand his little language, but if he wrote ‘weapon’ in big red letters on anything, burn it before SHIELD sees it, yeah? Or translate it to ‘high tech prosthesis’. He would have loved that.” 

Peter was the only one for the job. There had been a few days in which everyone panicked, thinking nobody would be able to preserve Tony’s work. He had insisted on using his personal language in his notes, a language Peter privately dubbed “Teaspool” after failing to find a way to pronounce “TSPL” (or, Tony Stark’s Private Language”). Even some of Tony’s codes used symbols known only to Tony’s brain and computer. 

And Peters. Tony had taught Peter Teaspool. This fact had been private for years, with Tony preferring to keep the depths to which he trusted the boy private, and the boy following his mentor’s lead and keeping quiet. When it was first discovered that much of Tony’s work was unreadable to an English speaker, Peter had debated revealing his ability to understand the language. He ultimately decided that he wouldn’t reveal himself, he would maintain his last secret with his late mentor, but Morgan had other ideas. 

She showed up at his bedside one day. He was always in bed. Peter Parker, drowning in grief and blankets, was very easy to find. 

“Mommy is crying because she can’t read Daddy’s books. Can you read them to her?”

Peter agreed to step foot in the lab, but not much else. It’s true that he learned to read Teaspool over the years, but that doesn't mean he’s willing to spend months translating everything for SHIELD. 

He’s not sure he’s even willing to spend minutes. 

The door handle is cold, far colder than it ever was when Stark was alive, or at least it seemed as much to Peter. That might, in retrospect, have something to do with the fact that Peter had laid in bed, warm and comfortable and utterly numb to the world, for the last few weeks. Everything felt colder. 

He wouldn’t wait to go back to bed. 

The room was cold too, and creepily silent. Completely devoid of the whirring, the music, the laughter and called out nicknames that typically greeted Peter when he walked through this door. 

That nickname would never come again. He had already had his last. It wasn’t enough. 

“FRIDAY?” Peter spoke into the silence, more for his own comfort than a pressing need for the AI. He needed to know someone else, even a robot, was somewhere closeby. His voice cracked from misuse. It wasn’t that Mister Stark’s death had caused him to go mute. It was more like that very things were worth speaking for, in a world devoid of his father figure. 

Speaking only made his life better. Peter didn’t need his life to be better. He needed his life to not be his own. 

“Hello, Peter.” The AI responded. Even she sounded cold. Everything was cold, now. 

“Can you… play music? Anything? Please?” The room was haunted. Peter was sure of it. He had known it back when he frequented this lab for the express purpose of bothering Mister Stark while he worked. The lab was haunted by the spirits of projects that Mister Stark forgot about, Peter used to say. The half-built gadgets lined the walls, staring at the pair of humans working on another gadget, which would (in turn) be dejected as well. “This lab is a haunted graveyard. I’m surprised the electricity hasn’t revolted against you!”

Mister Stark had laughed, back then. If only Peter had known how right he would be. It wasn’t electricity, per se, that killed Stark, but Doctor Strange said it was the magical equivalent. It looked like sparks had coursed through the mechanics veins as he lied, waiting for death. 

The machines won in the end. 

Music started playing. Classical. Something happy. Far too happy, for this room. Still, it was better than nothing. 

Peter’s bare feet wandered over to the main table of the lab. He typically wore lab-appropriate footwear in this room, but then again, it’s not a lab anymore. It's a graveyard. 

The table was piled with papers, no clear signs of an organisational system presenting themselves. Blueprints for designs that could change the world were filed with Peter’s own chemistry homework, all filed right on top of the desk in a haphazard pile. 

This should be fun. 

It felt wrong, somehow, to sit in the chair that was right next to the desk. Mister Stark was probably the last one to sit on it. Who was Peter to take that away from the universe? He dragged over another chair and began rooting through the pages. 

—--------

Peter almost didn’t check the desk drawers. Tony never used them for anything more than snacks, and he didn’t know if he could bear finding a half- finished snack in there, knowing the inventor had opened it and would never finish the bag. Such a small thing, but the pressure in Peter’s chest had been building ever since he first started translating Tony’s handwriting, and he couldn’t take anything more. 

But he checked anyway. Maybe part of him wanted to break. And break he certainly did. 

A notebook. Bound in leather, stamped in the bottom left corner with Tony’s initials, a well used notebook had been pushed all the way to the back of the otherwise empty drawer. It was filled with a mix of english and symbols, and before Peter could start to translate, the english section caught his eye. 

It was a diary. Or at least, a personal journal. The small english section described Tony’s difficulty with keeping “Mark Two” a secret from “Obie”, and was dated 2009. 

As Peter flipped through the almost-full journal, the handwriting became more and more illegible, and more of the man's personal language took over the pages, until Peter hit the back cover. 

So it started in 2009. Peter flipped to the last page, intending to find out exactly when Tony had given up on the journal, only to see his own name staring back at him from the last entry. 

Or at least, it might as well be his name at this point. 

“TO ROO” it said, in big bold english letters on the top of the page. 

The following paragraph was written in the messiest handwriting yet, and in Teaspool. As such, it took over twenty minutes to decipher, and another twenty for Peter to read through the tears and disbelief.

Because what it was saying…

It couldn’t be.

“TO ROO

The wizard says there's only one option, so I’m in a corner here. I’m working on it, kid, but it’s looking like you will have to wait a while to see me after we get you back. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Just stay strong. I’ll be back soon. I can’t wait to see you again, kiddo. Trust me. I'll have to push through worlds to see you again, but even death isn’t too heavy. 

P.S. Don't show the others. If they knew, I would be stuck. Keep it quiet. Wait for me.”

Three hours after Peter entered the lab, Morgan came looking for her brother at the request of her mom. Peter, notebook clutched in hand, murmured the phrase “even death isn’t too heavy” as he was led back to his bed.

#irondad and spiderson #peter parker #marvel mcu #avengers #iron man #tony stark #irondad #spider man #spiderson #the summary of one of my wips

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

Because I think these were so fun in the other ones, now that you’re done double blind I gotta ask the multiverse question: YNYD Tony/Peter and WL Tony/Peter meeting/learning about DB Tony/Peter and their thoughts (horror? Probably horror) 😬

[[🐻ursa interlude🐻

...sometimes you think of a joke that just 100% works better visually than written out so you have to whip out your utterly nonexistent artistic skills to answer an ask]]

[[ID: YNYD!Tony and YNYD!, WL!, and DB!Peter are out on a walk, and all of the Peters are holding ice cream cones. YNYD!Peter is chatting with DB!Peter with an expression of forced cheer. DB!Peter is holding onto YNYD!Peter's arm and listening quietly, looking exhausted. Behind them, YNYD!Tony looks irritated and has a hand on WL!Peter's shoulder, while WL!Peter looks behind himself with worry-- in the background is Avengers Tower, active with the sounds of distant fighting.]]

[[ID: WL!Tony and DB!Tony are leaning against each other back-to-back, and both look battered and bruised from their recent fight. They're both wearing expressions of rueful fondness, and WL!Tony is saying, "And then one time Peter..."]]

[[TO ELABORATE:

YNYD!Tony would be very unimpressed even by cured!Tony because wow was that ever shitty decision-making to ever take Extremis in the first place, and ofc it goes without saying that he would be horrified for DB!Peter. He would be utterly baffled by being the least fucked-up Tony of the bunch.

YNYD!Peter would be more understanding of/sympathetic to cured!Tony, but also primarily concerned with making sure DB!Peter was okay. He would def be open to talking to DB!Peter about sexual trauma/recovery if that was something DB!Peter was open to. If it was at all possible in whatever multiverse AU this takes place in, he would also suggest that the DBs could just… universe-hop to get away from the issues of their original universe, and offer to help them figure out how.

WL!Peter would feel… incredibly awkward… about some of the parallels with the DB universe… to the point of not knowing how to interact with either of them… He would be very sympathetic and horrified and worried for them both, but more preoccupied with the fact that:

WL!Tony and DB!Tony would ABSOLUTELY throw each other's various parenting failures in each other's faces and ultimately also throw hands. Nothing like beating up a vicarious physical manifestation of your guilt about being a bad dad, right??? …But it would actually be pretty cathartic and they would also be able to find some solace in having someone to talk to who really understood their guilt from a perspective of having also made awful mistakes.

DB thoughts on the YNYDs coming in another ask!]]

#fic: ynyd #fic: double blind #fic: wicked love #double blind: tony #double blind: peter #ynyd: peter #ynyd: tony #wicked love: tony #wicked love: peter #prompt: multiverse #meta #ursa interlude: #forgive my scribbles but listen. listen. I couldn't get the scenario out of my head lmao

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I don’t want to be callous, but it’s funny to me how these people won’t stop gnashing their teeth over the people of Westview, yet are happy to turn a blind eye to the actual trillions of people Tony has indirectly killed.

Okay so, I have a question.

These people usually claim Stark is not to blame for Ultron because Wanda got in his head and "she made him do it". That, according to them, is enough argument to say Ultron is not his fault. But these same people choose to blame Wanda for everything that happens in MoM despite the fact that the Darkhold had corrupted her and got a hold of her.

Make it make sense?

It's honestly mind-blowing that what Stark does is justified by "intention", but Wanda's trauma is enough to condemn her and whether or not she knew what she was doing is irrelevant. What a double standard. So, Stark had PTSD? So did the others! Are they seriously telling me Wanda doesn't? A little girl who had to watch her parents be murdered, who had to stay in her apartment thinking a missile would go off any second and kill her and her brother, who lived her childhood as an orphan and saw the way her country had been almost destroyed by foreign forces... she doesn't have PTSD?

Hell, why is Stark losing his parents at 21 such a devastating thing for him but Wanda losing hers when she was a kid (and witnessing the whole thing!) isn't? **

Stark had absolute narrative protection and his victims were never part of the story. The only one we actually see is that mother in CW but the narrative automatically makes Stark sympathetic and turns the discussion over to the rest of the team right away. In fact, what scenes follow suit after this mother blames Stark? A news anchor talking about the deaths in Lagos and blaming Wanda + Wanda blaming herself. Way to sway Stark's responsibility! And of course the next time we see him he's talking about an American kid's death, we're led to believe he cares about casualties even though he's not taking responsibility for all the shit he's done.

Oh well, he says Ultron was his fault to Steve later on. I'll grant them that. He says that while being extremely manipulative to Steve and dehumanizing Wanda by calling her a weapon of mass destruction. Gotta love it.

** Just want to make clear I'm not comparing traumas here. Stark's is valid and so is Wanda's. I just hate when people cherry-pick who can be allowed to have a problem and who can't. Steve, Nat, Sam, Bucky, Bruce... they all had issues like this. Stark's problem was that he was never allowed to learn and get better. He doubled down and the narrative protected him even when he was wrong. Or rather, especially when he was wrong.

#anti tony stark #wanda maximoff

[black-feather-fiction]

So basically what happened:

The world: you're carrying a curse fated to kill your brother and destroy the only home you've ever known

Loki: A curse? What curse, I don't see a curse? I see a child.

The world: ???? Are you high? That's a c-

Loki: a baby. My baby in fact.

The world: It's not a-

Loki, elbowing Thor: Do you see a curse Thor?

Thor, doubled over in pain: nope, not a curse, that's my beloved sibling's beloved nibling

The world: No! Are you blind!!

Loki @Avengers: Perhaps you see a curse?

The avengers: nope, no, nuh-uh

Nick Fury: I don't know the hell yall are on, but that's a motherfuckin-

Tony, muffling Nick's mouth with his hand and slowly dragging him away: shshshsh that's a goddamn baby alright

Am I right or am I right?

You're 100% right!

[alexlesuagz]

Criminal Case fanfic ideas (because IDK, I’m bored)

[Possible spoilers for all 8 seasons]

{S5} Prequelfic where Amir realizes he’s gay and confides in Rupert about it.

{S5} Rupert having an ace awakening (because yes, I headcanon him as ace) and being extremely confused about his feelings, so he confides in Amir about it. (No seggs, only tea, amirite)

{S3} [TW: SA] Jack finally gaining the courage to tell Lars about Lavinia DeBrils SA’ing him.

{S1} How Chad Whickman and Rose Cassidy first met (because goddamnit, they deserved better).

{S1} AU where Chad managed to calm Joe Stern down, not die, and get the job.

{S2} [TW: Abuse] A day in the life of Duncan Young, living with his mother and sister and having to deal with her emotional abuse.

{S1} Adam Bentley talking with his foster brother at his grave.

{S1} The aftermath of Julian Ramis’s arrest from the perspective of Julian’s parents.

{S2} [TW: Homophobia] The end of Zack and Becky’s friendship.

{S5} James Savage first meets Carter Hayes.

{S4} How Timmy and Bridget Baker first became friends.

{S5} [TW: Implied Sewerslide] Rene Narcisse’s words almost push Julian over the edge until the player and Gabriel show up.

{S2} [TW: Murder] A young Yann Toussaint has an argument with his parents and storms off. That would end up being the biggest mistake of his life.

{S5} Jones accidentally stumbles upon Zoe suddenly using telekinesis.

{S2} [TW: Cults, PTSD, and Implied Abuse] Not even Russell is safe from flashbacks, and surprisingly, the one who helps him out of a PTSD-induced panic attack is Frank.

{S4} The events of Vittorio Cappechi’s murder from Seamus’s point of view.

{S6} One of Amy’s therapy sessions with Marina following Nebet’s betrayal.

{S6} Sirius wonders why Orlando constantly ignores him, so he decides to ask. It doesn’t really go well.

{S6} Sequelfic(?) where Tony meets the player during S1 and tries to recall why they seem so familiar.

{S3} Baxter Fraser goes to therapy.

{S3} AU where Obaasan (IDK how to spell it, sorry) is found dead and Tsukada Hiroshi is alive because he killed her.

{S7} An apology note Dolores wrote to Gwen before her demise.

{S7} Inspired by @katrinahood , a crackshipfic between James Savage and Sam Ellis.

{S5} Crackshipfic between brunette bastard Louis Leroux and Joe Warren.

{S8} Jones and the player bond and catch up after 3 years.

{S8} Hugo Mercier giving love advice to Carrie.

{S5} Jones copes with Tony Marconi’s death.

{S8} Hugo and Jones bond over similar experiences.

{S5} [TW: Sewerslide] Gabriel and Jones talk after Jones’s attempt.

{S2} One of Jupiter’s letters to Russell, apologizing for being a shit dad.

{S5} Jones, Zoe, Alex and Cathy have a double date.

{S7} Larry Zarus goes on a car ride with his friend and business partner, Bernie. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in a coffin. His own coffin.

{S4} Charlie reveals that he can’t slow dance for the life of him. Maddie decides to teach him.

{S2} [TW: Abuse] Frank confronts Miriam Young about her shit parenting.

{S2} [TW: Abuse] Duncan confronts his mother about her shit parenting. It goes as well as you’d expect.

{S2} [TW: Abuse and Death] The day the Young siblings’ father died was a hellish day indeed.

{S5} [TW: Underage Drug Use] Julian and Vicki smoke weed together and have a chat about life.

{S7} Dolores tries to figure out a way to apologize to Gwen.

{S7} Arthur Darkwood never really enjoyed the small things in life, and he never noticed until he spent time with the Supernatural Hunters.

{S5} Jones is lowkey kinda lonely, so Ramirez decides to set him up on a blind date to cheer him up. Unbeknownst to Ramirez, Jones’ blind date was one of his old college acquaintances — Zoe Kusama.

{S6} The “Altered Present” Arc, but Lars is in it for some reason.

{S7} Zander Stark and Danny Kwame were queerplatonic bros, change my mind— (I hc Zander as bisexual and Danny as omniromantic asexual)

{S8} Cody reminisces on his failed relationship with Eleanora.

{S8} Prequelfic where Jean-Phillipe slow dances with Marguerite.

{S5} After skipping the trial of Rosamund Wilcox, Julian runs into Chelsea Bloom and they have a chat.

{S7} Human AU where Arthur and Reggie decide to have some “brother bonding time”, so they go to a local art museum. Things don’t go well.

{S4} Seamus makes eye contact with Giulietta at Mr. Alastor’s party.

{S2} A series of noteworthy recorded conversations between Bobby Prince and his therapist over the span of a year.

{S3} 5 times Jonah tries to smile and the first time Marina makes him smile.

{S3} [TW: Kidnapping, Torture, and PTSD] Elliot claims that he’s moved on past the whole “Anbu Devanesan” thing. He has not.

{S6} Serap and Roxelana’s love story, starting from their first meet.

{S6} Noah Lowe gets some advice from Ian Devine about love and life and shit (also, Noah lives in this fanfic concept, because bro deserves better).

{S7} AU where Rathimael lives, Arthur lives, and they live a peaceful life together in a small lakeside cottage on the outskirts of Michigan.

{S2} “What happened to the Francis I loved and cared about deeply?!” “He’s dead, and I killed him a long time ago.”

{S2} Bobby Prince’s last thoughts were about the idyllic life he would live with Amy via the virtual reality. (This was inspired by Bojack Horseman btw) (No I do not like Bobby Prince)

{S5} [TW: Attempted Murder] AU where Zoe survives Louis’s attempt on her life.

{S3} [TW: Implied Abuse] Michelle Zuria’s traumatic childhood at the hands of her nanny.

{S5} [TW: Sewerslide] AU where Jones decides to go home after Leroux is arrested, and the player decides to accompany him. Possible alternate endings available.

{S7} Fabien de la Mort chills out and asks Gwen for advice on how to properly swoon a certain someone (*cough*, Luke Fernandez, *cough cough*)

{S7} [TW: Murder] Ruth Wu’s final moments were in utter agony. (Deserved tbh)

{S4} [TW: Murder] Elias Willingham pays local pimp Kristopher Bauer for information about his missing daughter. Like many moments in the Criminal Case universe, things do not end well.

{S7} AU where Arthur Darkwood survives the events of S7 and decides to join the Supernatural Hunters.

{S2} Anjulie Cruz breaks up with Bobby and remembers all the red flags he showed while they were dating.

{S1} AU for “The Rorscach Reaper” where Ramirez arrives just in time to arrest Tess — but too late to save the player.

{S5} Canon divergence after Zoe’s arrest when Jones confronts Marconi and breaks down. Marconi talks him out of doing anything foolish and the two of them just talk while lying down on the grass.

{S7} Arthur never really had a family (besides Reggie, but we don’t talk about Reggie) due to being a demon. One of the Supernatural Hunters (probably Hope Newman) makes an offhand comment about how he’s family to them. (Bro deserved better imo)

{S5} [TW: Attempted Murder] AU where Nathan manages to regain consciousness just before Kit pulls out the snake.

{S6} Series of transcripts from Marina’s therapy sessions with different Criminal Case characters, including Jack, Amy, Jones, Chief Arrow, and Arthur Darkwood.

{S5} Prequelfic where Joe Warren meets his new college roommate, Louis Leroux.

{S2} After the events of “Once Upon a Crime”, Frank decides to call his daughter to tell her what happened.

{S5} [TW: Sewerslide] Either Alex, Grace, or Ramirez get the call about Jones’ attempt on his own life.

(I’m perfectly fine with y’all using these, just please ask first and credit me!)

#criminal case #criminal case grimsborough #criminal case pacific bay #criminal case save the world #criminal case mysteries of the past #criminal case the conspiracy #criminal case travel in time #criminal case supernatural investigations #criminal case city of romance #david jeremiah jones

[liaromancewriter]

Valentine Memories

Premise: When Alan finds a box of childhood memorabilia, Cassie teases Ethan about his romantic past.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: General. Fluff. Words: 1,625

A/N: This is based on an ask I received from @jerzwriter. Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge To Be prompt "XOXO"; @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompt "Be my valentine"; @choices-february2023, Day 14 prompt "Valentine's Day"; @choicesficwriterscreations Valentine's Day event.

It was a bright blue winter day with freshly fallen snow dotting the flat green landscape around Interstate 90. They left Boston late enough to avoid the weekend crowds heading off to ski lodges in the vicinity but early enough to make a day of it in Providence.

When the car turned toward I-95, the south-easterly sun’s harsh rays bounced off the windshield. Briefly blinded, Cassie Valentine pulled the visor down and silently cursed.

She meant to grab her sunglasses before leaving the apartment, but she’d overslept and had been in a rush. The last thing she wanted was for Ethan to give her a look that implied he hadn’t truly expected her to be ready on time.

The delectable Dr. Ramsey could be a real troll on occasion.

“Here.”

Cassie looked over to see Ethan holding out a pair of sunglasses with dark plastic lenses. His own were parked on the bridge of his nose, hiding his laser-blue eyes. So she wondered where these had come from. She arched one brow as she put them on, relieved when her eyes no longer squinted against the sun.

“You never seem to have a pair on you when you need them,” he explained, reading her thoughts perfectly. “I picked up a couple of cheap drugstore ones to keep in the car.”

Annoyed at his superior tone, Cassie harrumphed and folded her arms, only to unfold them seconds later as she chuckled at the implication. This wasn’t the first time she’d forgotten her glasses, so she really couldn’t blame Ethan.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” She shook her head in amusement.

“Top of the class, Valentine,” he drawled.

Cassie rolled her eyes and turned up the volume instead, singing along to the chorus of The Black Keys’ Wild Child.

They drove in companionable silence towards his childhood home for Ethan’s monthly visit to see his father. Cassie had insisted on coming even though she had made plans to go couch shopping with Bryce. Her friend understood the last-minute notice.

The more their relationship progressed, the more she was determined to make Ethan stop compartmentalizing their lives. Visiting Alan was an important part, especially since Ethan was heartily welcomed into her own family.

As they neared Providence, Ethan exited the interstate and joined traffic winding through the city streets. The scenery outside gradually changed from gentrified neighborhoods to middle-class subdivisions until he turned down a familiar road.

This part of town was older, the streets lined with modest houses, all a bit worse for wear, snow covering pitched roofs and small yards. Cassie spied four young boys in a small park up ahead, throwing snowballs at each other, their laughter ringing through the air.

“Did you ever do that?” she asked, tilting her head to indicate the boys.

Ethan followed her gaze, and his face softened in nostalgia. “As much as possible. You can’t live in New England and not have snowball fights.”

As they neared his father’s house, he slowed the car and parked along the curb.

“My friends and I would pray for a snow day,” Ethan continued, switching off the ignition, his eyes still on the boys. “And when we got one, we spent all day outside building a snow fort and engaging in all-out war. We had complicated hand signals and code words, the whole shebang.”

“Max and I always save the first snowball fight for Tony. Team Double Trouble, you know.” She grinned wickedly. “If he can beat us, he can join a twin activity. Otherwise, it’s Twin Time, Butt Out.”

She laughed in recollection as they exited the car. “Tony hasn’t managed to beat us yet, much to his chagrin.”

Alan must have been watching out for them. Cassie saw him come outside on the porch, rubbing his arms against the cold temperatures. Ethan walked around the front of the car to join her on the sidewalk, taking her hand in his.

“Welcome, welcome,” Alan greeted as they walked up the short steps.

Father and son hugged briefly while Cassie took Alan’s outstretched hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s get out of the cold,” Alan said, waving his hand to have her precede him, with Ethan bringing up the rear. “Had a feeling you’d be near, so I put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

Cassie and Ethan took off their winter boots inside the door, hung up their winter coats in the hallway closet and joined Alan in the living room.

The scent of brewed coffee and lemon furniture polish hung in the air, making Cassie’s nose twitch in appreciation. The furniture was old but well cared for, and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere.

She always liked how Ethan’s place was neat and tidy. It looked like this was another trait he had inherited from his father.

Soon they were enjoying their coffee and cookies. Alan caught them up on his happenings, and they did the same. When the talk turned to Ethan’s relatives, Cassie leaned her head on Ethan’s shoulder and settled in to enjoy this glimpse into his life.

A short while later, Alan got up from his seat, reached behind the armchair and lifted a cardboard box off the floor. Ethan’s name was scrawled on the outside in black marker.

“I was cleaning out the attic and came upon this box of your old stuff,” he said, setting the box down on the coffee table. “Thought you might want to go through it, son, and see if there’s anything you want to take back to Boston.”

Brows furrowed, Ethan lifted the flaps slowly. “I’m sure it’s nothing worth keeping.”

“Not so fast, babe,” Cassie cut in, reaching in to grab a thick folder. “Ethan’s report cards, grades one to three,” she read out loud. “Pay dirt.”

Ethan tried to grab the folder, but she simply moved her hand out of reach. She quickly scanned a couple of report cards and nodded in confirmation. She looked over the top of the folder, her green eyes sparkling with laughter.

“Gold stars? Not surprising,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. “But it says here, ‘Highly intelligent. Needs to think before speaking.’”

“It does not say that,” he protested, swallowing back the rest when she shoved the report card in front of his face, the words clearly written in red pen. “Oh.”

“Never had to worry about his grades,” Alan told Cassie, smiling as his eyes tracked between her and Ethan. “However, I can’t tell you how many parent-teacher meetings ended with, ‘Mr. Ramsey, your son is a gifted student, but he needs to learn to show more respect to his fellow classmates and teachers.’”

Alan mimicked the last, making Ethan utter “Christ!” under his breath and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah…,” Cassie mused, tapping one finger against her lips as she watched Ethan with a considering look. “That sounds about right. He might be Chief Ramsey now, but his people skills haven’t improved.”

Alan winked conspiratorially at Cassie and picked up the tray with their used coffee cups and plates to carry into the kitchen.

Ethan snatched the file out of her hands and shoved it back inside the box a little too forcefully, causing a thick paper pink card to pop up from the folds. He groaned when Cassie’s eyes lit up, and she tugged the card out before he could stop her.

“Did you make this Valentine’s Day card in class?” Cassie teased, turning the card over, glitter shimmering on her fingertips. “How come you never made me one?”

“You don’t celebrate the thing, remember?” he said, shoving his fingers through his hair. “Certainly makes my life easier, having a girlfriend that doesn’t want the fuss or muss.”

“Au contraire, Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie scoffed, flipping the card open. “I expect both the fuss and muss, just not on the Day That Shall Remain Nameless. You have three hundred and sixty-four days—three sixty-five during a Leap Year—to spoil me rotten.”

She guffawed when she read the message inscribed in purple pen, more glittery hearts sprinkled inside. “Dear Ethan. Please be my valentine. I heart you. So much. XOXO. Melanie.”

Cassie looked up from the card and shared a teasing glance with Alan, who walked back into the room and sat down in the armchair.

She schooled her features and threw Ethan a disgruntled look. “You’ve been holding out on me, babe. Who’s this floozy Melanie? And why does she think she can put the moves on my man?”

“The hell if I know,” Ethan growled. “I don’t even know what grade this is from.”

Cassie examined the card. “Based on the style, glitter usage and mix of cursive and block writing, third or fourth grade would be my guess.”

“Another thing Ethan was never short of,” Alan added, nodding sagely, chin propped on the heel of his hand. “The stories I could tell you about girls dropping by the house, calling at all hours, trying to get his attention. There are probably a few Valentine’s Day cards tucked inside that box. ”

“Not helping, Dad.” Agitated, Ethan shoved off the couch and towered over her, hands on his hips. “And what the hell, Cassie? I didn’t even know you then!”

Ethan knew he’d just been had when Cassie and his dad shared a look and then burst into laughter. She clutched her belly and doubled over, her body shaking with mirth, gasping for air with tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

Ethan did the only thing he could think of to shut her up. He tugged her off the couch and into his arms, framed her face between his hands, and kissed the laughter away.

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

All Fics & Edits: @a-crepusculo @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @takemyopenheart @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey

#ethan ramsey #open heart #choices open heart #ethan ramsey x mc #writers on tumblr #choices fic writers creations #cfwc valentines 2023 #open heart fanfics #choices fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #choicesfebruary2023