#*slam dunks this into some aus* | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amethystarachnid · 4 months ago

Note

Please, please, I need to ask you for a part 2 of Snowy Love now... they had a little boy, an exact copy of Tony, and of course, his name is Anthony Edward Stark Jr. 🥰 and just as Tony promised, they are going back to the same place with their baby boy now 🥰 Tony is the best hubs and dad, always so soft and protective... one night, as they observe their beautiful baby boy sleeping so peacefully, Tony will tell her that he wants another one, and they decide to have another baby 🥰 if you want you can spicy things up too, thank you 😘

I love the idea of Tony and reader having a special place like this to go 🥰

SNOWY LOVE - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff, a tiny tiny spicy scene

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ Summary: after your son, Edward, comes in the world your little Alps getaway get more interesting, so interesting that you and Tony decide you wouldn't mind another baby Stark.

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of birth, a little spicy scene

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The weeks leading up to your due date are a mix of excitement, nerves, and more than a few late-night talks about the baby’s name. You’d both been bouncing ideas around since the second trimester, but nothing had fully clicked for both of you. Then, one evening, Tony hit you with a proposition that he was sure would be a “slam dunk.”

“What if…” Tony begins, giving you his best salesman smile, “we make him a junior?”

You nearly choke on the sip of water you’re drinking. “Junior?”

“Think about it.” He leans forward, eyebrows raised, already envisioning it. “Anthony Edward Stark Junior. Our little legacy. Our kid gets a great name, I get a mini-me, and you get to say, ‘I’m married to Tony Stark Senior.’ Everybody wins.”

You stare at him, trying to process. “Tony, I don’t know… A junior? I feel like it’s setting up some pretty big expectations.”

He tilts his head, giving you a puppy-dog look. “What if we just call him Edward, though? Classic, timeless, elegant… just like his mom.”

You narrow your eyes, both charmed and trying not to roll your eyes. “You’re really playing the flattery angle here.”

Tony grins. “Is it working?”

“Fine,” you sigh with a smirk. “But I’m calling him Edward. You don’t get to sneak in any nicknames like ‘Tiny Tony’ or ‘Starky’ or anything weird, got it?”

He beams. “Deal. Edward it is.”

On the big day, when the contractions start, Tony morphs into a chaotic mix of superhero and headless chicken. The moment you tell him, he’s grabbing his jacket, his tablet, and two power banks (just in case, he insists). He practically hustles you out the door, giving the driver a set of instructions that makes it sound like you’re about to pull off an international heist rather than have a baby.

In the delivery room, Tony is trying his best to be calm and supportive, but his nerves start showing the minute you go into active labor.

“Alright, babe, you’ve got this,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Just… breathe! And maybe, uh, try some meditation?”

You give him a look that could melt his Iron Man suit. “Oh, really? Breathe? How insightful. Maybe I should just think calming thoughts while this tiny human makes his dramatic entrance, Tony.”

He swallows, wide-eyed, clearly realizing he’s treading dangerous ground. “Right. Just, you know, ignore me. I’m here. Quietly. Totally quiet.”

But every time a contraction hits, he’s there, full of commentary and ideas, most of which involve technology he wishes he could be using. “You know, I could invent a pressure reducer—some kind of… I don’t know, anti-gravity cradle? That way, all the pressure is off you—”

“Tony!” you gasp between contractions, managing to laugh despite the pain. “Focus, please. No inventions right now.”

Finally, after what feels like hours of huffing, puffing, and a whole range of Tony’s attempts at encouragement (that occasionally backfire), you hear the first cries of your son. The room goes still, and Tony’s hand grips yours a little tighter, his face softening with awe as the doctor holds up your baby boy, all squirmy and red-faced.

You’re exhausted but overwhelmed with joy as they place him on your chest. The little guy blinks up at you, and as you look down, you’re struck by how much he already looks like his dad. From the dark hair to the tiny furrow in his brow, he’s unmistakably Tony’s son.

Tony’s voice breaks the silence, soft and filled with wonder. “Oh, look at him… He’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, stroking your finger over his tiny hand. “He really is.”

After a few moments, Tony leans over, whispering so only you and the baby can hear. “Hey, Edward. Welcome to the team, little guy.”

You laugh softly, glancing up at Tony with a smirk. “I suppose we’ll let you keep the ‘Anthony Edward Junior’ for the birth certificate.”

Tony grins, looking a little misty-eyed. “And we’ll call him Edward. Just like we said.”

The baby shifts in your arms, yawning with a seriousness that makes you and Tony both laugh. “Look at that,” Tony says, chuckling, “he’s already judging us. He’s got the Stark stare down.”

“Oh, he’s definitely yours,” you say, tracing his tiny nose. “There’s no denying it.”

As the nurse takes Edward for his check-up, Tony stays close, keeping one eye on the baby and one on you, as if he can’t decide who needs more protection. At one point, Edward lets out a small cry, and Tony practically jumps out of his seat, only to be gently waved back by the nurse.

“Alright, alright, kiddo’s tough,” Tony mutters to himself, trying to act casual. Then, under his breath, he adds, “I’d better teach him about building armor for all life’s tough moments. Soon as he can walk.”

You smile, shaking your head. “Not just yet, Tony.”

“Fine. Maybe in a few years.” He smiles down at you, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “You did amazing, by the way. Both of you.”

Later, as you’re resting in the quiet room, Edward nestled in your arms, Tony sits by your side, his gaze fixed on the little bundle between you. He reaches over, brushing a hand over Edward’s dark hair.

“I have a feeling this little guy’s going to keep us on our toes,” he says, his voice warm with anticipation.

You chuckle. “I think he’s going to be just like his dad. Confident, a little dramatic, always ready for an adventure.”

Tony grins. “Then he’s got some pretty big shoes to fill. But don’t worry, kid.” He leans close to Edward, whispering, “You’ve got a head start. You’ve got the best mom in the world.”

Your heart swells, and you glance over at Tony, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude. “And the best dad.”

He reaches for your hand, holding it tight. “Here’s to the new adventure, Mrs. Stark. Alps trips, tiny skis, and all.”

And as Edward settles back down in your arms, his little hand wrapped around Tony’s pinky, you know you wouldn’t trade this moment, this family, for anything in the world.

November brings a fresh blanket of snow over the Alps, and true to his word, Tony whisks you and baby Edward back to the chalet for your first family trip as a trio. But this time, Tony has leveled up his promise a little bit.

“Alright, brace yourself,” he says with a smirk as the three of you arrive at the chalet’s entrance.

“Tony, what did you do?” you ask, eyeing him with playful suspicion.

He opens the door with a flourish. “Meet the new and improved chalet,” he declares as you step inside and notice everything from the original cozy stone walls to the carved wooden beams… looking the exact same as they had before. It’s still the chalet you remember, but now, as you glance around, you notice subtle but elegant upgrades: a sleeker kitchen, plush couches, perfectly arranged warm lighting, and something tells you Tony’s fingerprints are on each and every detail.

“JARVIS?” you call out, testing your theory.

“Yes, Mrs. Stark,” JARVIS replies smoothly, his voice filling the room. “I am here to assist you with anything you need during your stay.”

You look at Tony, arching an eyebrow. “You put JARVIS in the chalet?”

Tony grins. “What’s a chalet without a little Stark-level luxury? Besides, he’s got the heat, lights, baby-monitoring, and full security on lock. Plus, the moment Edward gets fussy, he’s going to give us gentle background white noise. Like having a top-notch babysitter that we don’t have to pay.”

You laugh, holding baby Edward closer to you. “Only you would find a way to make a rustic mountain getaway smart-tech enabled.”

Edward blinks up at the sound of JARVIS, his big brown eyes going wide. Tony leans over, stroking Edward’s tiny head with a grin. “See, kiddo? We’ve got all the comforts of home—just with a better view.”

Of course, while the chalet is all set up and the vacation is planned to perfection, the reality of bringing a seven-month-old to the Alps sets in quickly. For one thing, Edward seems endlessly fascinated with everything in sight—the crackling fire, the pinecone decorations, the view outside—but especially, he loves testing his new babbling skills at full volume whenever you’re trying to enjoy a quiet moment by the fireplace. And when it comes time to bundle him up in his little winter gear for some snow time, things get complicated fast.

Tony holds up the puffy snowsuit, squinting at it like it’s a complex piece of machinery. “Okay, so we just… put him in here? I don’t think he’ll fit. Are you sure this is his size?”

You stifle a laugh. “Yes, Tony. Babies’ clothes just tend to look a little oversized. Trust me, he’ll fit.”

After a few minutes of wrestling with the baby-sized marshmallow suit, Edward is all bundled up, looking a little like a tiny, slightly disgruntled snowman, his cheeks poking out from the snug hood.

“Well, look at you!” Tony coos, chuckling as he lifts Edward up. “You’re ready to brave Everest.” He leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Just don’t expect us to climb it anytime soon, okay?”

You take a few steps outside, holding Edward’s tiny mittened hand, and Tony follows with a knowing smile. “Alright, team, it’s time to introduce the little guy to snow. First snowball?” he asks, already forming a little powdery ball.

“Nothing too rough, Stark,” you say with a laugh. But before you know it, Tony tosses a soft, fluffy snowball—more like a gentle powder puff—onto Edward’s lap.

Edward stares at the snowball with a very serious expression, reaching out to poke at it. His face lights up as his tiny mitten sinks into the snow, and he looks up at you, babbling excitedly.

“See?” Tony says, grinning. “Total natural. And he hasn’t even tried sledding yet!”

You and Tony spend the morning showing Edward the snow-covered world, taking him out to a little sled where he sits on your lap, squealing in delight as Tony gently pulls the sled along. Every now and then, he looks up at you with pure joy, and your heart just melts.

Later that evening, after you’ve managed to get Edward fed and snuggled into bed (which was an ordeal in itself, as he spent half the time grabbing at your hair and Tony’s glasses), you sit by the fireplace, wrapped in one of the soft blankets Tony stocked up on. Tony finally joins you after setting up a baby monitor with JARVIS’s help, plopping down on the couch beside you with a tired but satisfied smile.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “Well, we survived the first day. Barely.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s different with a baby, isn’t it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he says, looking over at the baby monitor and grinning as he sees Edward sleeping peacefully. “But it’s kind of the best thing ever.”

You smile, thinking of all the little moments from the day—Edward’s excitement over the snow, his curious little face peeking out from the snowsuit, the way he’d babbled at the mountains like he was having a full conversation with them. “It really is.”

Tony’s hand drifts to your shoulder, and he kisses the top of your head. “Remember what I promised you? Yearly trips to the Alps, no matter what.”

You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth and the soft crackling of the fire. “And you’ve outdone yourself, Mr. Stark. This chalet is perfect.”

“Well, only the best for you and our little snow adventurer.” He chuckles, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “I can’t wait until he’s old enough to really take on the slopes. I’ll teach him everything I know.”

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “Oh, so he’ll be an expert on the bunny slopes?”

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me! I did those bunny slopes with you for safety reasons.”

You grin, nudging him playfully. “Sure, sure.”

For the rest of the night, you both fall into comfortable conversation, talking about your favorite parts of the trip and laughing over Edward’s tiny adventures of the day. And even though there’s a new level of exhaustion that comes with traveling as parents, there’s also a new kind of joy, too—the kind that fills your heart in ways you never could have imagined.

As you settle in beside Tony, his arm around you and the fire casting warm shadows across the room, you feel it—the deep contentment of being right where you’re meant to be. You have each other, a beautiful family, and all the memories waiting to be made on snowy Alps trips just like this one.

The next morning, you and Tony have a grand plan: to get a family photo in the snow with the Alps as a backdrop. You picture a sweet little scene—Edward bundled up, the mountains glistening in the background, and you and Tony looking like that perfect, smiling family on a holiday card. But getting a baby and two semi-coordinated adults to cooperate for a “simple” photo quickly becomes its own comedy of errors.

First, there’s the task of getting Edward back into his snowsuit, which he’s now decided he hates. He’s wiggling, giggling, and pulling at the hood the entire time, giving Tony a run for his money as he tries to zip up the tiny suit.

“Alright, Edward, c’mon,” Tony pleads, one hand struggling with the zipper while Edward bats at his dad’s face with a mittened hand. “Just work with me here, buddy. Think of the memories.”

Edward lets out a little squeal that sounds suspiciously like laughter, and you can’t help but giggle as Tony finally manages to get the zipper all the way up.

“There we go!” Tony cheers, looking immensely proud, like he’s just invented a new suit himself.

With the baby finally bundled, you two tackle the next challenge: finding a spot outside where the snow isn’t too deep. Tony scouts ahead, and with JARVIS chiming in via earpiece to give him topographical tips, you both make your way to the perfect spot, nestled near a tall pine tree with a breathtaking view of the snow-capped Alps in the background.

Tony positions his phone on a nearby rock, sets the timer, and then hurries back to join you and Edward. But as he leans in, trying to hold Edward steady, his hand slips, and suddenly he’s teetering backward, flailing as he tries to catch his balance on the icy snow.

“Oh no—!” you gasp, holding Edward securely as Tony lets out a string of surprised curses and lands straight in a snowbank, his legs flopping over the edge like a giant starfish.

The phone’s camera timer goes off with a cheery click. The result? A perfectly crisp shot of you holding Edward, smiling serenely while Tony lies in the background, half-buried in snow, looking thoroughly betrayed by gravity.

You’re laughing so hard that Edward starts to giggle too, a bubbly little laugh that only makes the whole situation even funnier. Tony sits up, looking bemused but amused, his face pink from the cold. “Okay, that’s… that’s one for the family album.”

You grin, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “It’s a classic already.”

Not one to let the snow get the best of him, Tony gets up with determination, brushing the snow off with dramatic flair. “Alright, no one messes with a Stark like that. We’re getting this shot, and it’s going to be flawless.”

On attempt number two, Tony positions the phone on a steadier surface, checks the snow for any hidden ice, and rejoins you, looping an arm around your shoulder as you all face the camera with bright smiles.

Just as the timer ticks down, Edward reaches up, grabbing Tony’s nose with an impressive grip for a seven-month-old. The photo snaps just as Tony lets out a squawk of surprise, his expression halfway between amusement and “I’ve been captured by my own child.” The result is another photo that, while completely unscripted, somehow captures everything you love about this little family adventure.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Tony laughs, taking a look at the new photo. “Apparently, we’re destined for candid shots only.”

You shrug, kissing Edward’s chubby little cheek. “Maybe that’s even better. We’re a chaotic family, Tony—why pretend otherwise?”

As you all make your way back to the chalet, Tony leans in, whispering, “Just so you know, I’m sending both of those pictures to Happy for our holiday card options. Let him decide which one says ‘Stark Family Adventure’ the best.”

Later, cozy by the fire with Edward dozing in his crib nearby, you and Tony swipe through the day’s photos, laughing over each and every attempt. The best shots—the ones where you’re all genuinely laughing, snow in your hair and mismatched expressions—are far from perfect, but they’re filled with real joy. And as you snuggle close, you know this will be the kind of memory you’ll treasure forever, a perfectly imperfect adventure in the Alps with the people you love most.

Three years later, you’re back at the chalet for your annual Alps getaway, and it’s no surprise that Edward is now an unstoppable force. At three years old, he’s practically a mirror image of Tony—a toddler with boundless energy, unfiltered curiosity, and a confidence level that has you equal parts impressed and on high alert.

“Okay, buddy,” Tony says, crouching down to zip up Edward’s puffy little parka. “Remember the rules for today. One, no climbing any trees. Two, no running past—”

“Got it!” Edward chirps, promptly bouncing up and bolting out the door, his tiny boots pattering across the snow.

You laugh, throwing Tony a knowing look as he sighs. “He’s got the Stark attention span, too,” you say.

Tony smirks. “Only the best traits, right?”

Outside, Edward has already discovered a stick and is poking it into the snow, chattering away to himself like he’s narrating his own discovery channel show. As you watch, he picks up a pine cone and waves it over his head like it’s a prized artifact.

“Look, Daddy!” he calls, holding up the pine cone with immense pride. “I found treasure!”

Tony, trying to keep up with Edward’s imaginative pace, kneels beside him, inspecting the pine cone with all the gravitas of a museum curator. “Ah, yes. A rare alpine pine cone. I’d say that’s worth at least ten points.”

“Ten points!” Edward exclaims, his face lighting up with joy.

You watch the two of them, warmth filling your chest. They’re a perfectly matched pair: Tony, the ever-encouraging, slightly mischievous dad, and Edward, who treats every rock, snowflake, and icicle as if it’s the most magical thing he’s ever seen.

Before long, Tony has convinced Edward that a snowball fight is in order. The two of them square off, and it’s a comical sight—Tony with his practiced aim and Edward with his… well, enthusiastic but chaotic form of defense, which mostly involves flinging snow in every possible direction.

You try to sit back and watch, but before you know it, Edward has roped you in. “Mommy! Help me!” he calls, his tiny face flushed with excitement.

“Oh, you’re going down, Stark!” you call, laughing as you crouch beside Edward, forming snowballs as fast as he can toss them.

Tony’s attempts at pretending to be defeated are the funniest part of it all. He stumbles around dramatically, flinging snow in the air and making ridiculous sound effects every time Edward hits him with a snowball. Edward laughs so hard he nearly tumbles backward, and his laughter is contagious, echoing through the snowy landscape around you.

After an hour of snowy chaos, you all retreat back inside, red-cheeked and chilled but perfectly happy. You wrap Edward in a cozy blanket, and he nestles up beside you on the couch, his head resting against your shoulder, still babbling about his “great snow victory.”

Tony sits on your other side, wrapping an arm around you both. “You think he’s going to be this wild every year?”

You smile, brushing a stray bit of snow out of Edward’s hair. “If he’s anything like you? Definitely.”

Tony laughs, his eyes softening as he looks down at Edward, who’s drifting off in the comfort of your arms. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And in that moment, in the warmth of the chalet with your little family bundled together, you can’t imagine a better tradition. The mountains, the snow, and these beautiful, hilarious memories—they’re your family’s own perfect kind of magic.

After a long day of helping a highly enthusiastic but wildly unpredictable Edward navigate the beginner slopes, you and Tony are both thoroughly exhausted. Getting Edward to sleep has been an adventure on its own—he insisted on wearing his snow hat to bed, hugging his newfound pine cone “treasure” like a beloved teddy bear. But at last, he’s tucked under the cozy blankets, his soft snores filling the room as he finally rests.

You and Tony stand in the doorway, watching him with a mix of adoration and relief. Tony wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both gaze at your son.

“Out like a light,” Tony murmurs softly, a trace of awe in his voice. “Gotta hand it to the Alps—only place that can actually wear this little guy out.”

You chuckle, leaning back into his embrace. “Only took skiing lessons, a snowball fight, and an epic bedtime negotiation to get him here.”

Tony smirks. “Can you blame him? Kid knows what he wants.” He drops a light kiss on your shoulder, his voice turning playfully suggestive. “Wonder where he gets that from?”

You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Pretty sure that’s all you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony pulls you closer, pressing his lips near your ear. “I think you underestimate just how… persuasive you can be, Mrs. Stark.”

You laugh softly, feeling the blush rise in your cheeks as Tony’s hands slip around your waist. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

He feigns innocence. “Just stating the facts. And for the record, I’m pretty persuasive too. I mean, look at this kid.” He nods toward Edward’s sleeping form. “That’s a whole collaboration project right there. A masterpiece, if I do say so myself.”

You shake your head, trying to keep a straight face. But then, as you glance back at Edward, all tucked up in his little cocoon of blankets, the thought slips out of you before you can catch it: “I wouldn’t mind adding to the… collection.”

Tony goes still, and you feel his arms tighten around you, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “Oh, really?”

You blush, nudging him with your elbow, but you don’t deny it. “Maybe…”

“Maybe, she says,” he murmurs, amusement dancing in his tone as he steps back, just enough to turn you around and face him. His eyes are sparkling with a familiar mischief, and you know exactly where this is going. “Well, Mrs. Stark, I don’t believe in wasting time.”

Without another word, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you down the hall to your room with a determined grin. He pauses only to nudge the door shut with his foot and click the lock, just in case Edward decides to wander in on his way to a midnight snack.

The next morning, you both shuffle into the kitchen, happily disheveled but somewhat groggy after last night’s, uh, activities. Tony pours you both coffee while you tackle the task of assembling breakfast for the family, the scent of coffee filling the chalet. Just as you finish plating the pancakes, you hear the pitter-patter of small feet racing down the hall.

Edward appears in the doorway, all tousled bedhead and wide, curious eyes. He grins, hopping up into his chair with more energy than either of you can muster, and starts digging into his breakfast.

“Did you sleep well, buddy?” you ask, trying to keep the knowing smile off your face as Tony gives you a wink over his coffee mug.

“Yeah, I did,” Edward says, then tilts his head in thought. “Except for the weird noises.”

Your fork pauses mid-air. Tony freezes, eyebrows raising slightly as he trades a look with you.

“Oh? What kind of noises, honey?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light and innocent.

Edward scrunches his face, deep in toddler-level contemplation. “I dunno… kind of like ‘thump thump’ and then like… a squeaky sound?” He shrugs, perfectly unaware of the red hue creeping up both your faces. “I thought it was maybe animals outside. Like a bear!”

Tony chokes a little on his coffee, quickly composing himself as he nods, very seriously. “You know what? That’s exactly what it was. Just some… mountain animals. Bears, probably. Or… squirrels. Could’ve been squirrels too, I’d bet.”

Edward looks skeptical. “Squirrels? Squirrels go ‘squeak squeak’?”

You nod, putting on your best parental poker face. “Oh, absolutely. These Alps squirrels are, uh, very vocal.”

“And super fast,” Tony adds, trying to keep a straight face. “They must’ve just been scurrying around outside.”

Satisfied with this explanation, Edward returns to his breakfast, the mystery solved in his mind. But Tony can’t help himself—he sneaks a hand over, giving your knee a quick squeeze and winking at you over his mug, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips as he whispers, “Squirrels, huh?”

You bite back a laugh, nudging him with your foot under the table. “Keep it up, Stark, and you’ll be explaining squirrel noises for years to come.”

And as Edward chatters away about his plans for another day of snowy adventures, you and Tony share a quiet smile, thinking about how this mountain hideaway has become even more special to your family—memories made in the snow, and, apparently, memories made with a little help from the “squirrels.”

It’s a crisp spring afternoon in New York, and you’re back at Stark Tower, watching Edward chase his toy cars around the living room with endless energy. You can’t help smiling as he zooms his favorite red race car across the floor, making all the appropriate “vroom” noises, blissfully unaware that his whole world is about to change. You’ve just returned from the doctor, and the news you have to share with Tony feels like a small, joyful secret waiting to burst.

After waiting for the right moment all afternoon, you find Tony tinkering in his workshop. He’s bent over some project, half of his attention on JARVIS narrating stock reports, but as soon as he sees you standing in the doorway, he brightens up and sets down his tools.

“Hey, gorgeous. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He smirks, reaching for your hand and pulling you close.

“Well, I thought you might want a break,” you say, feeling the excitement bubble in your chest. “I actually have… some pretty big news.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow arches, his interest clearly piqued as he looks at you with that familiar Stark sparkle. “Do tell.”

Taking a deep breath, you let the words tumble out. “Tony, I’m pregnant.”

For a split second, there’s only silence as he processes what you’ve said. And then his face lights up with a joy so pure it makes your heart swell.

“You’re serious?” he whispers, almost as if he can’t believe it.

You nod, your smile growing wider. “We’re having another baby, Tony.”

His response is immediate; he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close, and you feel the warmth of his kiss on your forehead as he lets out a small, breathless laugh. “Another baby… wow. I’m gonna have two little Starks running around?” He pulls back to look at you, his hands on your shoulders, his gaze soft and a little awed. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Well, thank you,” you laugh. “But this is all teamwork.”

“Oh, believe me,” he says, his expression growing playfully mischievous, “I remember the teamwork.”

You give him a light smack on the chest, rolling your eyes. “Focus, Stark. We have another little person to tell the news to, remember?”

Tony’s eyes widen, glancing toward the hallway where Edward’s little voice can be heard playing. “Oh, you mean the future big brother. How do you think he’ll take it?”

“Honestly?” You shrug. “No idea. But I think he’ll be excited… once he gets past any confusion.”

Tony grins, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of telling Edward. “Let’s do it.”

You both head to the living room, where Edward is still entirely focused on his toy car, making it zoom up the arm of the couch and fly through the air before landing it perfectly on the carpet. At three and a half years old, he’s the spitting image of his father: curious, energetic, and already a little charmer. When he sees you and Tony approaching, he stops mid-vroom, looking up with big, curious eyes.

“Hey, big guy,” Tony says, crouching down to Edward’s level. “Mommy and I have some special news for you.”

Edward’s eyes light up with interest. “News?”

You smile, sitting down next to him. “Yes, honey. You’re going to be a big brother.”

Edward’s little face scrunches up in confusion. “Big… brother?”

“Yes,” you say, glancing at Tony for support. “That means Mommy has a baby in her belly, and when it’s ready, you’ll have a little brother or sister.”

Edward’s eyes widen even more, and he stares at your stomach, looking half-confused, half-impressed. “Mommy ate a baby?”

Tony immediately bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too. You shake your head, gently taking Edward’s little hand and placing it on your belly. “No, honey, Mommy didn’t eat a baby. The baby is growing in here. And in a few months, you’re going to have a little sibling.”

Edward’s hand stays on your belly, his face absolutely serious as he contemplates this information. “So… the baby is just there?” He presses a bit, as if expecting to feel something.

Tony chimes in, his voice warm. “Yep. Just there, buddy. Growing a little more every day.”

Edward’s face slowly shifts from confusion to excitement, his smile growing as he processes what it means. “I’m going to have a baby to play with?”

“Exactly,” you say, brushing his hair out of his face. “You’re going to be a big brother. And that means you get to help take care of the baby, teach them new things, and, when they’re big enough, play together.”

Edward’s grin is so wide now that it practically glows. “I’m gonna be a big brother!” He pauses, squinting up at Tony. “Like… like how Daddy is in charge of everyone?”

Tony grins, clearly enjoying this line of thought. “Well, not exactly. You’ll be a big brother, which means you’ll get to show the baby how to do all the fun stuff, like building towers and—”

“And playing cars!” Edward finishes with enthusiasm. “I’m gonna teach them everything!”

You exchange a tender smile with Tony, watching as Edward begins to babble on about all the things he’ll show his little sibling, his excitement growing with each idea. You can see Tony’s eyes soften as he watches Edward, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Edward scrambles off the couch and stands right in front of your belly, crossing his arms with determination. “Baby, you have to come out soon so I can show you everything, okay?”

You chuckle, running a hand through his messy hair. “It’ll be a few more months, sweetheart, but the baby will hear you.”

Edward nods seriously, placing both hands on your stomach as if he’s already the most devoted big brother. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry. I’m gonna be here to teach you all the important stuff.”

Tony chuckles, pulling you close with an arm around your shoulder. “I think this baby has a pretty awesome big brother waiting for them.”

Edward looks up at both of you, his face filled with pure, innocent excitement. “Is the baby going to look like me?”

“Maybe!” you say, smiling at his curiosity. “Or maybe the baby will look like Daddy.”

“Or you!” Tony adds, squeezing your shoulder. “But one thing’s for sure, they’re going to be very lucky to have you as their big brother.”

Edward beams, his eyes bright with pride. Then he suddenly looks thoughtful. “Does that mean I get to be in charge of them? Like when they don’t want to play?”

You and Tony share a glance, stifling laughter. “Well, being a big brother means you’re a helper,” you say. “And that means being patient and kind.”

Edward thinks about this, nodding slowly. “I can do that,” he says seriously. “I’m going to be the best big brother ever.”

With that, he dashes back to his toy cars, already chatting to them about his new sibling as if they, too, need to know the news. You and Tony watch him with affection, sharing a moment of pure contentment.

“Not bad, huh?” Tony murmurs, his hand slipping around your waist as he pulls you close.

“Not bad at all,” you reply, leaning into him. “I think he’s going to be amazing.”

Tony chuckles, his gaze softening as he watches Edward play. “You know, if he’s anything like me, that baby is going to have a lot of excitement to look forward to.”

“Let’s just hope they balance each other out,” you laugh. “Otherwise, I think I’ll have my hands full.”

Tony gives you a teasing smile. “I think you already do, Mrs. Stark.”

The snow has blanketed the Italian Alps in a serene white hush, and you can’t help but smile as you look out the chalet window, feeling at peace even with the slight ache in your lower back. You’re nine months pregnant, and the baby could come any day now, but you wouldn’t have missed this trip for the world—not when it’s become such a special tradition for your family. You’d made sure Tony understood that before you left. Despite his protests, he finally agreed. But only under the condition that you’d “take it easy” and let him handle absolutely everything.

The chalet has become even more luxurious, thanks to Tony’s constant upgrades and “adjustments.” And though it’s outfitted with everything you could possibly need, from a medical suite to Jarvis-powered heating control, Tony is still on edge. You feel his watchful gaze follow you even as you wander just a few steps around the cozy living room. Even more surprising, Edward seems just as watchful, hovering nearby with a little furrowed brow that mimics his father’s.

“Mama, you need more water?” he asks for the third time in an hour, holding up a glass in his little mittened hand, though he looks a bit wobbly carrying it.

You smile, reaching down to take it. “Thank you, sweetie. You know, I think I’m good for now.”

He looks relieved, climbing up onto the couch beside you and cuddling into your side, immediately leaning down to put his face near your belly. It’s become his favorite spot, his “sister perch,” as he calls it. “Hi, baby Mia,” he whispers, his breath tickling your belly. “I got Mama water like you need. But you gotta wait a little bit, okay? ‘Cause you’re supposed to come after Christmas.”

You giggle, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “I think she’s listening, Eddie.”

Tony walks in from the kitchen with his own cup of coffee and grins, watching the two of you with unmistakable fondness. He’s got his eye on Edward, who’s started this protective routine almost as if on cue. You’ve noticed that ever since you arrived, Edward has been watching you with extra concern, following you room to room with a serious expression that makes him look adorably like a miniature version of Tony.

“Keeping an eye on Mama, huh?” Tony asks, dropping into the armchair beside you. He catches Edward’s eye and gives him a wink, which Edward dutifully returns with a nod.

“Daddy said I gotta be extra good and make sure you and Mia are okay,” Edward explains seriously, his hand now gently patting your belly. “Because if she comes early, it’s up to me to keep you safe too.”

You glance over at Tony, arching a brow. “So, you’ve enlisted a tiny helper?”

Tony smirks, leaning back in his chair with a mock-casual expression. “Well, let’s just say I figured another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone as stubborn as you, Mrs. Stark, insisting on a nine-month-pregnant trip to the Alps.”

You roll your eyes, stifling a laugh. “Oh, so now I’m the stubborn one?”

He just grins, leaning forward to gently place his hand beside Edward’s, rubbing soothing circles across your belly. “Mia, just for the record, we’d prefer it if you’d wait a little longer to make your debut, okay? Let’s give Mommy a couple more quiet nights.”

Edward chimes in, “Yeah, you stay in there, Mia!” He lowers his voice to a loud whisper, as though she might be eavesdropping. “Daddy says it’s cozy and warm in there.”

Watching Tony and Edward both focused so intently on you and the baby makes you feel an overwhelming rush of affection. Tony may be playfully aloof at times, but you know how protective he is, and seeing Edward’s instinct to care for you just as much—it’s almost too much for your heart to handle.

Over the next few days, their vigilance only increases. Edward insists on helping with every little task, from picking up anything you drop to insisting you don’t leave the couch without him.

One afternoon, you’re sitting near the fire, Tony stretched out beside you with Edward nestled between you both. Edward has his hand on your belly, his little face serious as he leans over, “talking” to Mia about all the things he’ll show her once she’s born. You glance over at Tony, who’s pretending to read a book but has a smile on his face, clearly listening in.

“Yeah, and I’ll show you the big mountain,” Edward whispers to your belly. “And all the squirrels! But you gotta wait a little ‘cause you’re too tiny now.”

“Big brother’s got it all figured out, huh?” you murmur, looking over at Tony.

Tony gives a soft laugh. “He’s thorough, what can I say?”

When evening falls, you sit with Tony as Edward helps him prepare dinner in the kitchen. Tony’s pretending not to notice that Edward is sneaking more carrot slices than he’s putting in the salad, and you’re listening to their banter with a smile. Just as Tony finishes the final stir, he glances over at you, his eyes brightening.

“Alright, gorgeous, dinner’s served.” He and Edward bring everything over to the table, setting it up with an odd mix of finesse and excitement. Edward clambers into his chair, looking proudly at the setup.

As you all dig in, Edward turns to you, as serious as ever. “Mama, do you think Mia can eat with us next year?”

You chuckle, nodding. “I think she’ll be joining us for a lot of meals, honey. And you can help show her how everything works.”

“I’m good at showing stuff,” Edward says, sounding very grown-up. He stabs his fork into his food, then pauses to look at you. “Mommy, is Mia gonna need to wait for food like me?”

“Maybe at first,” you say, glancing at Tony as you add, “But she’ll have a big brother who can teach her all about snacks.”

Tony nods seriously, reaching over to give Edward a high-five. “That’s right, buddy. You’ll have to show her all the important stuff—especially the snacks.”

Edward beams, looking very pleased with himself. Dinner continues in this cozy, easy rhythm, filled with little jokes and laughter, until you find yourself feeling so relaxed you almost forget how close you are to your due date.

Late that night, after Edward is tucked in, you and Tony settle into bed, and he wraps his arms around you from behind, his hand resting instinctively on your belly. You sigh, leaning into his warmth, grateful for the peace and quiet.

“Think she’s getting cozy in there?” Tony murmurs, rubbing small circles on your belly.

“She seems content,” you whisper back, smiling. “But then again, so am I.”

A comfortable silence falls between you as Tony presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I can’t believe we’re going to have two little ones soon.”

You chuckle. “And you doubted our Alps trip.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Hey, better safe than sorry. If I had my way, we’d be back in New York near the best hospital in the state.”

“Relax,” you say, lacing your fingers through his. “We’ve got everything we need right here.”

And as you lie there, cradled in Tony’s arms with the baby softly moving beneath your hand, you feel a deep, calm certainty—no matter where you are, as long as your family is by your side, everything will be exactly as it should be.

The evening is peaceful as you sit by the fireplace in the chalet, warming up after a full day spent playing in the snow. Tony’s got an arm around your shoulders, holding you close, while Edward is curled up on the rug in front of you, arranging his toys with focused concentration. You’re enjoying the rare calm, your hand resting on your belly, feeling the little nudges and kicks that Mia has made her daily ritual.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp, intense pressure low in your abdomen—a sensation that makes you gasp, your hand gripping Tony’s arm on instinct.

“Hey, you okay?” Tony looks at you, his brow furrowing in concern. Edward glances up too, his toy race car frozen mid-drive as he watches you with wide eyes.

“Um… I think…” Another wave hits you, stronger this time, making you tense. You can’t help but wince as a rush of pain makes it clear exactly what’s happening. “Tony, I think it’s time.”

“Time? Time for—oh!” Tony’s face goes through a series of rapid changes, from confusion to realization to full-blown panic. “Time! Okay, okay. That’s fine. We knew this was coming. I’ve got this.” But his eyes are wide, and his hands are already shaking as he reaches for his phone, practically tossing it out of his pocket in his haste.

Edward’s face scrunches up with worry. “Mama, are you okay? Is Mia coming now?”

You manage a reassuring smile for him, though it’s strained. “Yes, sweetheart. Mia’s on her way.”

Edward’s little mouth forms a perfect “O” as he stands there, frozen with his toy car clutched in his hand. “But she’s not supposed to come yet!” He looks to Tony for confirmation, a touch of panic in his voice. “Daddy, she’s coming early!”

“Uh, yeah, she sure is, buddy,” Tony mutters, trying to steady himself as he dials for the hospital. But when the call goes unanswered, he swears softly under his breath, his face paling. “Right. Nearest hospital it is. I’ve got this. Totally got this. Y/N, do you need a bag? Should I carry you?”

You laugh—well, as much as you can while clutching your belly. “Tony, just help me to the car. And grab the bag we packed in the bedroom. It’s all set.”

He nods, snapping into action as he wraps an arm around you, helping you up as gently as he can. Edward trails closely, his eyes fixed on you, looking like he’s ready to burst into tears. “Mama, is it going to hurt a lot?”

You nod, managing a comforting smile. “It’s going to be okay, Eddie. But yes, sometimes it does hurt a bit.”

With a nod, he straightens up, puffing out his little chest as if he’s trying to be brave for you. “I’ll protect you, Mama,” he says with a firmness that makes Tony’s mouth twitch, though he’s too frantic to fully appreciate the cuteness of it.

Tony helps you out to the car, keeping an arm firmly around you while Edward scrambles into his seat in the back, buckling himself with serious focus. He’s quiet as he watches Tony settle you in, his gaze darting between the two of you.

“Okay, everyone’s in. We’re good. We’re going to the hospital,” Tony announces, gripping the wheel and peeling out of the driveway with more speed than finesse.

The drive is quiet, save for Tony’s constant mutterings and reassurances. “Almost there, babe. Hang on. We’ve got this.”

Edward, still wide-eyed and silent, keeps glancing from Tony to you, his little hands clasped in his lap. Finally, he leans forward and says softly, “Daddy, is Mia going to come soon?”

Tony gives him a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror. “Pretty soon, buddy. But she’s going to be just fine, and so is Mommy.”

A few minutes later, the hospital comes into view. Tony whips into the parking lot, barely managing to park the car before he’s jumping out, rushing around to help you. The nurses spot the three of you, and within moments, you’re whisked into the maternity ward with Tony by your side, Edward clinging tightly to his other hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Tony looks at Edward, his expression softening. “Okay, Eddie, I think it’s time for you to hang out with the nurses while we bring Mia into the world, alright?”

Edward’s eyes are filled with worry as he looks up at you, his little brow furrowed. “Are you sure, Daddy? Maybe I should help.”

You reach out and give his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling through the pain. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll see you soon.”

Reluctantly, he nods and lets go, and a nurse leads him to the waiting room, promising him hot chocolate. Once he’s settled, you let yourself focus fully on the task at hand, breathing deeply as another wave of contractions hits.

Hours later, as dawn breaks over the mountains, you’re finally holding a tiny, pink-cheeked bundle in your arms. Mia is here, and she’s perfect, with soft wisps of dark hair and the tiniest little nose. Tony looks at her with an expression you haven’t seen before, a mixture of awe, wonder, and pure love.

“She’s… wow,” he murmurs, his voice choked. He reaches out, his finger stroking her soft cheek. “She’s here. She’s finally here.”

You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks as you watch him. “She is. And she’s beautiful.”

Just then, there’s a knock on the door, and a nurse steps in with Edward, who’s clutching a small, stuffed bear that he insists is for Mia. He’s a little hesitant, staring at the tiny bundle in your arms with wide, curious eyes.

“Eddie, come meet your sister,” Tony says, beckoning him over with a soft smile.

Edward steps forward slowly, his eyes fixed on Mia with fascination. He gently sets the bear down beside her and looks up at you, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is that really her?”

“Yes, sweetie,” you murmur, shifting Mia just enough so Edward can see her more clearly. “This is Mia. Your baby sister.”

Edward’s face lights up as he takes it in. He reaches out tentatively, gently touching her tiny hand. “Hi, Mia. I’m your big brother,” he whispers, looking awed. Then he glances up at you and Tony, his voice growing more confident. “I’ll take care of you, Mia. Just like I promised.”

Tony chuckles, ruffling Edward’s hair. “That’s right, bud. You’re the best big brother she could ask for.”

Once you’re back at the chalet, it’s as if the whole place is holding its breath for Mia. Even the snowfall outside seems to have softened, the sky a soft pink and blue haze as the sun rises over the Alps. Tony helps you get settled on the couch, Mia tucked warmly in your arms. Edward is right beside you, eyes wide and sparkling as he stares at his sister, still in awe of the tiny new family member.

“Mommy, can I…?” He trails off, looking up at you with hopeful eyes.

Tony clears his throat, immediately stepping in. “Can you what, buddy?”

Edward meets Tony’s gaze with a bold determination. “Can I hold her?”

Tony opens his mouth, looking unsure. It’s clear he’s struggling, torn between letting Edward’s eager big-brother heart grow and the sheer terror of seeing his three-year-old son anywhere near such a delicate little bundle. You give Tony’s hand a reassuring squeeze, then smile softly at Edward.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. We’ll help you,” you say, and Tony shoots you a look that is part admiration and part mild panic.

With care and precision that would make any parent proud, you and Tony arrange Edward on the large bed, surrounding him with a fortress of pillows. He sits cross-legged, his little hands clasped in his lap, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him.

“Alright, Edward, remember—very, very gentle,” Tony instructs, his voice a little shaky as he settles Mia in Edward’s lap. The look on his face says he’s ready to leap in at any second.

Edward nods with the utmost sincerity, keeping his hands steady as he holds Mia, his tiny fingers brushing over her soft blanket. He gazes down at her with awe, and Mia, as if she already knows her brother, blinks up at him, her eyes round and calm.

“Hi, Mia,” he whispers, his voice almost reverent. “It’s me, Edward. I’m your big brother.”

Tony, standing a mere inch away, watches like a hawk, his eyes locked on Edward’s every move. If there were any way for him to be closer without actually holding Mia himself, he’d probably do it. You catch him clenching and unclenching his fists, clearly debating if he should interfere, even though Edward is doing perfectly well.

You chuckle softly, nudging Tony’s shoulder. “Breathe. He’s got this.”

“Breathe?” Tony whispers back, glancing at you like you’ve suggested he let Edward juggle china plates. “Babe, our son is three. Mia’s barely a week old. This is like… a recipe for chaos.”

“But look,” you murmur, smiling as you take in the sight before you.

Edward leans down slightly, his face inches from Mia’s, his little voice filled with wonder. “You’re so small, Mia. But I’ll help you get big. Just like me.”

You feel your heart melt, watching your son speak to Mia with the wisdom and warmth of someone far beyond his years. Mia, sensing something special, gives a little yawn, her face scrunching up before she settles comfortably in Edward’s lap.

Tony’s shoulders ease just a fraction, and he shakes his head with a small smile. “Alright, you’re right. He’s got this.”

After a few moments, Edward looks up at Tony with a mix of pride and excitement. “Daddy, she’s not crying!”

Tony laughs, reaching out to ruffle Edward’s hair. “She’s not crying because she likes you, buddy. You’re already doing an amazing job.”

Edward beams, sitting up a little taller. “Yeah, I think she does like me. I’ve been practicing, Daddy. With my teddy bear, remember?”

Tony chuckles, nodding. “All that practice paid off, didn’t it?”

Satisfied that Edward has everything under control, you settle back, letting yourself enjoy this peaceful moment. It’s incredible to see Tony’s eyes soften with such pride as he watches Edward. When Mia stretches a tiny hand and accidentally grabs one of Edward’s fingers, Edward lets out a little squeak of excitement.

“She’s so strong!” he says, looking up at Tony. “Look, Daddy! She’s already holding my finger!”

Tony’s grin widens, and he’s now fully invested, crouching beside the bed to get a better look. “She’s a Stark, all right. Strong from day one.”

You share a knowing smile with Tony. Somehow, it feels like the chalet, with its vintage wood and cozy, fire-lit rooms, has truly become your family’s haven. This yearly trip has become more than just a tradition—it’s a ritual of love and connection, a reminder of the life you and Tony have built together.

When Edward finally looks up, he gives Mia one last gentle hug before releasing her back into your arms. “Mommy, can I hold her again tomorrow?”

You smile, nodding. “Of course, Eddie. She’ll need all the big-brother cuddles she can get.”

“Deal,” he says with a grin, hugging his knees to his chest, his excitement making his little feet wiggle.

Later, when Edward’s sound asleep and Mia is curled up beside you, Tony wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The fire crackles softly, casting a warm glow around the room, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“So, another perfect day?” he murmurs.

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “Perfect in every way.”

I love family man Tony so much you guys can't even understand

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no-psi-nan · 7 months ago

Text

Now that I've been thinking about Kusuke more, I think I can better articulate what makes Kusuke different from Makoto.

My latest understanding is that while Makoto doesn't think he's doing anything wrong and wants to escalate his involvement with his sister, there's a lot of evidence that Kusuke is actually trying to END his weird fascination with his brother and shift to a normal sibling relationship.

To support this theory, I'm gonna roughly describe Kusuke's appearances / timeline and what I think his motivations were.

Obviously this all starts when Kusuo is born. Pretty normal sibling rivalry for a while, though it escalates as they both get older and stronger and their parents don't stop them.

Kusuke creates the limiters. One limiter was supposed to stop Saiki's powers while inserted, and the other one was to keep Kusuo hostage for their games. I believe Kusuke thought that by suppressing Kusuo's powers, he could establish the "proper" hierarchy of older brother beating younger brother. But it wouldn't be a complete win for him without beating Saiki at full power, so the second limiter ensures Saiki will still compete with him. Kusuke's trying to get better at games and fighting, so he's thinking that if he can beat Kusuo with the limiter in, then he just has to train until he can beat Kusuo with the limiter out.

Up till this point, there's no evidence that there was any sexual component going on. And conveniently, right as he would be hitting puberty, Kusuke high-tailed it to Cambridge. At this time he still thought that by working with other scientists, they could figure out how to completely remove Kusuo's powers.

After that, Kusuke doesn't make an appearance until Kusuo goes to him about the broken limiter. He's left cameras all over the Saiki house which is bizarre and wrong, but to be slightly fair to him, he grew up without any privacy due to Telepathy, so it kinda makes sense. And technically if something went wrong with Kusuo, Kusuke is the only person who could help, so it would make sense that he should keep an eye on things. Still fucked, but he's not exactly an ethical guy overall.

Once Kusuo needs his help, Kusuke tests to see if he can finally beat Kusuo conclusively. He hasn't done this since he left Japan, and it's actually entirely possible that this is the first time that he ever reacted like that to a loss. Still, despite apparently having the best time of his life, he's annoyed enough by the next morning to bully Nendo and Kaido for no reason. Perhaps he realized that his excitement was messed up??

After this, Kusuke doesn't show up again for a while, except to warn Kusuo and their parents that there was a defective part in the limiter. The fact that Kusuo accidentally screwed up the past and met the WWIII AU Dr. Kusuke isn't technically Kusuke's fault and was definitely not his intention.

Almost every single Kusuke appearance after this point is directly related to The Final Game, in which Kusuke will defeat Kusuo in a super epic battle and then cement his dominance forever (and destroy the rivalry / humiliation kink potential) by slam-dunking the power deleter into Kusuo's brain.

Kusuke's next appearance is scamming his grandpa. Not very nice, but I think he was actually testing how much his grandpa loves him before moving in with his grandparents and launching his "elderly robot gang" plan of attack on Kusuo. Notice that his grandmother, who Kusuke likes better and brings gifts for, doesn't get put in a robot suit later on, she gets eternal youth like she wanted (well, at least Kusuke's best shot at it). But Grandpa was definitely going to be used against Kusuo as a hostage and to Kusuke it's justified because his Grandpa doesn't love him.

The elderly robot gang plan is revealed and fails, so Kusuke has to think of some other way to defeat Kusuo in a super cool matter.

In the next new year's chapter, both Kusuke and Teruhashi show up at the Saiki household. It's not clear why Kusuke showed up (perhaps he just wanted to hang out with his family and mess with Kuniharu), but he does seem to test whether Teruhashi could be good hostage material - the grandpa plan failed and we know he later recruits Toritsuka. Luckily for Teruhashi, she's able to prove that she is NOT to be messed with, so that's another angle that's been shut down.

Next Kusuke sends the birthday bomb trials. This is explicitly to measure Kusuo's strength as Kusuke comes up with the perfect counter weapons. He's not trying to kill Kusuo after all, and later he actually gets nervous that the cat tank blast might be too powerful.

Then there's the KochiKame parody chapter, where Kusuke has a little fun getting Kuniharu his job back. No attempts to mess with Kusuo in this one and they interact super normally.

Then Warp the robot cat debuts. Since roboticizing humans didn't work for him, it seems Kusuke is going all-in on developing robots with as much functionality stuffed into them as possible. While Warp also serves as a gift for Kurumi, I think its also a step towards developing Kusuomega.

Ok there's also a chapter where Kusuke tries to get his grandma to divorce his grandpa. Just Kusuke being an asshole lol.

Kusuomega appears!! Since Kusuke's original plan was to throw a bunch of robot old people at Kusuo, it makes sense to test whether throwing a bunch of normal robots at Kusuo would work. Yeah, making Kusuomega lick his shoes is fucking bizarre and making him "fully featured" is also messed up. But Kusuke does also have to prove that he's willing and able to make Kusuomega do freaky shit at Kusuo's school to "properly motivate" Kusuo to fight back at full power. Kusuke puts a lot of effort into ensuring Kusuo doesn't half-ass their games and fights, going all the way back to the installation of the limiters.

Kusuomega was easily defeated, but instead of making more robots, Kusuke realizes he can use Toritsuka as both a weapon and a hostage. He immediately gets to work on that.

Then the cat tank arc, The Final Game. Kusuke was going to win Once And For All.

Except he didn't. Still, he gives Kusuo the option of whether to use the power deleter or not, without the leverage of publicizing his powers. Kusuke has accepted that he can't beat Kusuo, and that he's never going to get another chance to beat him full strength, because he knows Kusuo is going to use that power deleter. This is the ultimate sacrifice for Kusuke, since Kusuo's powers are his one interest and passion in life.

From then on, Kusuke is completely cooperative, helping Kusuo with the volcano problem and giving him genuine advice in trying to prevent his powers from returning. Naturally he gets a little excited at the prospect that Kusuo's powers might be back, but he does respect Kusuo's attempts to deny them back out of existence, setting up Kuniharu to fight the meteor instead of insisting Kusuo do it, even if this might mean they all die.

So in summary, it seems like:

Normal sibling rivalry -> limiters to try to end sibling rivalry -> escape to England -> Kusuo shows up so Kusuke tries to beat him for the first time in years and gets off on the loss -> Kusuke works towards a final conclusive game where he can win and then delete Kusuo's powers

While Kusuke justifies it as older siblings should always be superior to younger siblings, he clearly senses there's something wrong about their dynamic and he works hard to "fix" it in the only way he knows how: with an overwhelming win. And when even his biggest efforts fail, he accepts that he'll never win this way and lets go of their rivalry, shifting into a more normal sibling relationship. And Kusuo recognizes that and even seeks his help with the volcano for the first time.

So while their situation is definitely fucked for most of the series and Kusuke definitely did pretty much everything wrong... Things aren't QUITE as bad as they seem and it looks like the "bro-con" issue is gone by the end of canon.

Which sets Kusuke pretty far from Makoto, imo, who never recognizes for a second that his attraction is problematic and that even if that wasn't his sister, he should never treat another person that way.

Anyways, I figured it might be helpful to explain my thinking on Kusuke in more detail like this, so hopefully this was interesting and makes sense!

#nopsi meta #kusuke saiki #saiki kuusuke #OK I'm done talking about Kusuke for a while. it's time to get back into Akechi zone 🗨️💬🗯️🗨️💬💭

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daisynik7 · 1 year ago

Note

“Into you” by Fabolous for Connie Springer- smut + fluff

(S4 connie ofc)

Into You

I think you’re truly something special, just what my dreams are really made of

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: super fluffy, kinda cheesy, college au, modern day au, lots of basketball terms (applies specifically to NCAA and NBA), explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), implied creampie

Summary: You and Connie Springer have been close since childhood, growing up as next-door neighbors and best friends. The bond the two of you share is undeniable, but you’ve never been able to admit how deep your feelings are, either to yourself or to him. You continue to support him as his friend while he pursues his career as a basketball player, trying to get drafted into the NBA. Though the journey has its ups and downs, one thing is for certain: The two of you will always have each other, forever and ever.

Author’s Notes: Hi anon! Thanks so much for requesting this song for the y2k karaoke party because it’s one of my FAVORITES! It really gives me Love & Basketball vibes, another favorite of mine that also happens to be a classic in the y2k era. This little fic is very loosely based off of that, so I hope you enjoy! Also, all the basketball/NBA tidbits are mostly from being with my boyfriend, who is a huge NBA fan, so yeah, sorry if any details are inaccurate lol. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! MDNI banner credit to @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (Slam Dunk manga).

“You have to pinky promise, okay?” Connie sticks his tiny finger out, wiggling it in front of your face, sucking on his cherry-flavored lollipop, lips and tongue-stained red. You’re both five years old, sitting cross-legged in the front of his yard, taking a break from playing hide-and-seek.

“What am I pinky promising?” you ask, voice squeaky and curious.

“That we’ll be best friends forever and ever! No matter what!” he exclaims, beaming at you with his eyes wide, twinkling earnestly.

You only need to think for a few seconds before you’re hooking your pinky with his, committing to this promise for the rest of your lives.

~~~

Ten years later, Connie makes it on the varsity basketball team in your high school. It’s rare for a freshman to make it to varsity at Ragako; the coaches must have seen that spark in him that you and his family have witnessed since he started playing at ten-years-old. You used to shoot around with him out in his driveway, where his father set up a little hoop. Eventually, the little one got upgraded to a real one, where the height was adjusted appropriately as Connie grew. You became his practice partner, no longer able to compete with him. Instead, you passed him the ball, watching in awe as he made shot after shot, sometimes deep from the street. He’d pick you up and spin you around, the two of you cheering together, impressed by his skills.

Year after year, he only improved. The way he handled the ball, expertly dribbling it between his legs, behind his back, one-handed, without looking. Or the way his feet gracefully shuffled along the court, the distinct squeak from his shoes echoing off the walls as you watch him on the bleachers, playing three-on-three against some of his buddies at the gym. One time, his friend Jean teases you. “You know, you should stop hanging around here or else people might think you’re his groupie.”

Before you can think of a smart comeback, Connie interjects, shoving Jean hard in the arm. “Hey! Leave her alone. I want her here. I only play like this when she’s around. And she’s not a groupie. She’s my best friend.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the exit while Jean sputters apologies that go ignored. “Sorry about that,” he whispers to you. “Jean is an asshole. I want you around, got it? Forever and ever.”

You smile, leaning into him. “Forever and ever.”

~~~

It’s at the championship game during senior year that you realize that you’re in love with Connie.

Scouts have already contacted him about full-ride scholarships to university, recruiting him for their team. He’s the most celebrated point-guard in your school’s history, his average points and assists per game breaking records. Ever since he joined, your school has made it in the final round each year, last year resulting in a win, this year leading to a second.

With seconds left on the shot clock, tie game, Ragako with possession, Connie makes his move. He inbounds the ball to his teammate, quickly taking position at the right wing, his sweet spot. As quickly as it leaves his hands, the ball is passed back to him. He shoots it, and as it flies out from his fingers into the air, the buzzer rings, and he makes it. The crowd goes wild; one side of the bleachers erupting into a frenzy, jumping up and down with excitement. Connie’s parents hug each other first, then surround you in their arms, elated. You don’t expect him to celebrate the win with you, not with his entire team huddling around him, splashing water on his head, cheering his name. Not with all the cheerleaders and fans gravitating toward him, eager to be in the presence of a sure-to-be star in the making. So, it surprises you when you see him maneuver his way through the crowd, heading straight towards you. He pounces on you, giving you the biggest, sweatiest hug with tears streaming down his face. It’s a split second where the surrounding noise goes blank and it’s just the two of you there, basking in each other’s warmth. Soon, his parents join you, also crying happily, and it’s in this moment that you realize this is where you want to be: with him. Forever and ever.

~~~

It's no surprise that the two of you attend the same college together. Most people will see it as you following him, but in actuality, Connie agrees to go wherever you go. Lucky for you both, your top choice is a D1 university where he’s offered a scholarship to play for their basketball team. It works out perfectly, as if it were meant to be.

He’s busy from the get-go, practicing every day until the season starts in November. You become preoccupied with classes, and naturally, the two of you travel your different paths, meeting in the middle whenever you can. When the season official starts, you attend all his home games, cheering for him from the sidelines surrounded by the other students also chanting his name. Weeknights, he’s often too tired to hang out, retreating to his dorm room to fall asleep, only to repeat his busy schedule again the next day. He grows close with his teammates, spending most of his time with them instead of you, which is to be expected. After all, you and Connie are just friends. Sure, you’re completely and madly in love with him, but he’ll never know that. So, you watch from afar as he pursues his career without you in the way. It’s the way it has to be.

By the time spring semester rolls around, you and Connie barely see each other. You’ll still text, sometimes video chat or talk on the phone. He mostly vents to you about teammates or coaches that have gotten on his nerves that day. He’ll catch you up on the other schools they’ve defeated or the ones that they’ve lost to. Your school’s record is quite good thanks to Connie, who’s only gotten better since high school. If they continue at this rate, they will win the conference tournament, meaning a trip to March Madness, the most prestigious competition in college basketball. Most importantly, it’s one step closer to the NBA.

As expected, the team does win the conference tournament. That night, the entire campus is lively with students buzzing in school spirit, ready to party the rest of the weekend. All you think about is calling Connie to congratulate him, hear his voice and tell him that you’re so proud of him. You debate with yourself for nearly fifteen minutes, staring at his name on your screen, fingers so close to dialing his number. You decide not to go through with it, certain that he’s too busy with his team, too busy with his fans. He’s not thinking about you, not when his whole world is about to change. And you can’t blame him; you’re just friends, and this is the way it has to be.

The following night, your school organizes an impromptu homecoming for the basketball team, welcoming them as they arrive on the bus, fresh from their championship win. They have a couple days of rest before they leave for the NCAA tournament, but you’re sure they’ll be busy with press and practice until then. You’re not there to greet them when they step off the bus; instead, you’re sulking in your room, buried under the covers, feeling sorry for yourself for ever falling in love with Connie Springer. It’s a sad, pathetic sight, but at least you’re alone for the weekend to do it while your roommate is out visiting her boyfriend out of town.

You’re surprised to see Connie’s name flash on your phone a few hours later. You let it ring twice before answering. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he asks. There’s shuffling in the background, as if he’s walking outside.

“I’m in my room.”

“I’m coming over now.” He hangs up, not giving you any time to respond. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

When you open the door to let him in, he wraps his arms around you in a snug embrace. “I missed you.” He pulls off to hold you by the arms, glaring. “Why didn’t you greet me off the bus?”

“I…” you start, unsure how to respond.

“I was looking for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“I was studying in the library.” This might be the first time you’ve ever lied to him. You feel guilty and gross.

“Oh,” he says sadly, still staring at you.

“Congratulations, by the way. It was an amazing win.” You give him a weak smile, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. You don’t even know why you’re crying; Connie did nothing wrong. You’re letting your emotions get the best of you, and you can’t help but crumble in front of the only person who knows you better than you know yourself.

“I don’t care about that right now. I care about you. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Connie, I promise.”

“Don’t promise me shit like that. I know you’re upset. Tell me. Please.” His eyes search yours, desperate for an answer.

You look at his feet, fixating on his shoes, scuffed on the sides from playing. Tears start to drop from your face and on the carpet. “I just…I missed you too. I miss you, Connie. I…I love you.” The confession slips from your mouth in a sniffle, and you’re so upset with yourself for letting it slide in this crucial moment. Neither of you needs the drama of your unrequited love right now. Not you, knowing he’ll be leaving again soon, and especially not him, who has bigger and better things to focus on.

He gapes at you, stuttering, “You love me?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“Like, love love? Or love like a friend?”

You’re tempted to lie, just to make it easier. But you owe it to Connie to be honest with him. “Love love.”

His mouth is open, eyes bugging out, completely shocked by your admission. Before he can respond, you add, “I’m sorry, Connie. I shouldn’t have told you this right before the tournament, but…I don’t know. It just came out. I’m sorry.”

He stammers, “You’re sorry? This is the best fucking thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” He breaks into a smile, laughing hysterically, an even more bizarre reaction.

You cross your arms, getting impatient with his ridiculous behavior, eventually grabbing his shoulders to shake him out of his fit. “Connie, what the hell?!”

He wipes his eyes, crying from giggling, beaming at you. “I’ve been in love with since we were kids. Been dreaming of hearing you say that since we were five-years-old.” He hugs you tightly, nuzzling his nose to the top of your head. “I love you and I want to be with you. Forever and ever, right?”

You nestle into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you missed since he’s been gone. “Forever and ever.”

~~~

The two of you spend the night together, making love for the first time. His lips are soft against yours, and you smile into his kiss, remembering the day you pinky promised that you’ll be best friends forever and ever, no matter what. His lips were stained red with cherry-flavored candy, looking sickly sweet as he smiled at you. And as you kiss him now, he tastes just as sweet as you imagined he’d be after all these years.

You kiss him sloppy as you ride his lap, his cock buried deep in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He moans your name into your mouth as he laps at the saliva collecting on your tongue, slurping your spit, swallowing it thickly. “Fuck,” he groans, hands gripped to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thighs. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long, baby. So long.”

“Me too,” you whisper, starting to bounce on him, close to your climax.

“What would you think about? Tell me,” he demands, thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing it raw.

You whine from his touch, increasing your pace, resting your head on his shoulder. “You and me, just like this,” you huff, short of breath.

“Yeah? You thought about me deep inside you, huh? Fucking this sweet pussy until you come all over my cock, huh?” He thrusts up into you, grip tightening, fingers digging into your flesh. He’s close too, you can feel it.

You moan into his skin, sweat beading on your forehead, throwing your ass back against him in tandem with each pump of his cock. A few more strokes and the two of you come together, the mess spilling onto the sheets as soon as he pulls out.

He wipes you down with tissues and baby wipes you have handy on your bedside drawer. As soon as you’re both clean, he cradles you in his arms, spooning you from behind.

“I know this is going to sound super cheesy, but I truly feel like a winner now,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck.

You chuckle, squeezing his hand in yours. “Wait until you win March Madness. Then you’ll really be a champ.”

“Even if I lose, I’ll still have you. And that’s been my dream all this time.”

You shift your body to face him, gazing into his eyes. “I thought your dream was to make it into the NBA?”

He smiles, booping you on the nose. “It’s part of the dream, sure. But I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now if it wasn’t for you. You kept me going all these years. Knowing you were always on my side gave me the strength I needed to get here. As long as I have you, I’ll be living the dream.” He kisses you on the forehead. “I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.”

“Forever and ever?”

“Forever and ever.”

~~~

In an upset, your school loses in the Final Four. It’s the furthest they’ve gotten in university history, and a large part of that is due to Connie and his extraordinary performance as their point guard. His efforts do not go unnoticed; his coaches and many prospective agents have contacted him, encouraging him to apply for the NBA draft.

June of the same year, Connie Springer is drafted tenth in the first round and you’re sitting right beside him with his parents, cheering for him. Just as you have throughout all these years, and just as you will for the rest of your lives. Forever and ever.

#connie springer #connie springer smut #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #Connie springer fluff #connie smut #connie x reader #Connie x you #aot smut #aot fluff #attack on titan fluff #attack on titan smut #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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fyeahaudiodrama · 8 months ago

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Happy @podcastgirlsweek to all who celebrate! While I haven't had the time to properly work on fics (and probably won't this week because oops, hurt my hands yesterday) I still wanted to take the time to highlight some favorite podcast girlies along with everyone else!

The prompt for Monday is highlighting podcasts with women in the leading roles, so here's a few of mine (and hopefully, some new ones of yours if you don't know them yet):

Back Again, Back Again: Ilyaas, you absolutely fantastic disaster of a fantasy ace, never stop trying.

Breathing Space: While the show is anthology with a rotating cast, some of my favorites from across its run include:

Evie Yuriskin

Amity Archer

Any characters who were introduced one episode and then started referring to each other as "my wife" by the end or by their next appearance

Camlann: Some apocalypse survivors interpret dangerous dreams about dark magic to cope. Some knit sweaters. Both are valid and should kiss.

City of Ghosts: Featuring the grungy, disgruntled, tormented-by-visions LADY detective of your dreams.

Desperado: Take note - give your ladies knives. And god powers. And witchcraft. And a sniper rifle, for good measure.

Do You Copy?: I think [REDACTED] deserves three weeks of paid vacation

Fawx & Stallion: Madge Stallion is THE moment. She's six feet tall. She can't stop making innuendos. She's not your fucking Mrs. Hudson (although, she is - no, I shan't say).

Hi Nay: Mari & Laura are my everything - the loving and self-sacrificing hero and the newfound friend who chooses to stand by her side (fire axe and all).

Inn Between: Oh, my Inn Between girlies, where do I start? Fina and Betty, the OGs and life partners that even death couldn't stall? Rosie and Zara, the new best pals who chose to stay together? Phoebe, just one step at a time learning what she deserves and what she doesn't? All impeccable, A+.

It Makes A Sound: Any show focused on music is going to be a slam dunk for me, but Deirdre's quest to reclaim her memories as well as those that tied her to her mother is so damn real and compelling.

The Kingmaker Histories: No female character in this show has ever done anything wrong. Colette gets a migraine pass. Ariadne can turn people inside out. Daphne is owed this for working in a theme park.

Life With LEO(h): Janiiiiiine, so messy and smart and dedicated and she cares so much, I love yoooooou.

Me and AU: Kate's worries and desires and doubts are some of the realest out of any audio drama so when do I find an Ella too

Palimpsest: My faaaaavorite gothic horror anthology, each one fresh with a different brand of haunted, tormented, secret-keeping (and quite frequently gay) gothic protagonist

The Pasithea Powder: Jane and Sophie. Sophie and Jane. What more could you need? <3

The Silt Verses: Women who start cults/leave cults/seek an end to the endless cycle of meaningless sacrifice as so valid. For all your wet cat(fish) woman needs.

Second Star to the Left: Because I always love a good Ishani performance. Hi Gwen, please tell Boots I love them.

Small Victories: You want sad wet cat women? How about one that literally can't stop self-sabotaging (but at least manages to draw the line at sabotaging others...occasionally). She even gets stabbed!

Starfall: I mean, kind of a given, but anyway, Leona definitely exists because she's the kind of action protagonist woman I always wanted - one that could be unapologetically powerful, but still full of flaws and desires (especially ones that weren't about falling in love and minimizing her own strengths). She's even autistic!

Stories From Ylelmore: Keryth! Keryth, Keryth, Keryth! She reminds me so much of the kinds of characters I would make up when I was younger - I love her and her small magic so dearly.

The Strange Case of Starship Iris: Hi queer space pirates <3

Unseen: Another anthology show, but Harry Winters and Never-Ending Circles remains one of the most perfect premiere episodes I've ever heard in audio drama.

The Way We Haunt Now: Get your podcast ladies here, dead or alive!

We Fix Space Junk: My favorite type of repairman is a woman who could kick my ass.

Wolf 359: I don't think I need say much more here - y'all know and love 'em just as much as I do.

#podcast girls week #long post #podcast recommendations

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ducktoonsfanart · 1 month ago

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Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck play basketball and Unca Donald is their coach - Slam Duck - My redraw, my version and my style - Slam Dunk - Quack Pack AU - Duckverse - Basketball - Sports

A new surprise, this time I drew something related to basketball, one of my favorite sports. Unfortunately, I didn't have the opportunity to draw my favorite characters playing various sports during the Olympic Games last year, but that doesn't mean I can't do it now. I drew it on the occasion of reading a comic series called "Slam Duck". I really like that comic, which consists of four parts, and it's about Scrooge's basketball player Bounce misbehaving in a game and getting banned, so Scrooge's nephew Donald replaces him, and the players are from Duckburg School who play on the team, and mostly Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck are there with their friends. After numerous basketball games and numerous problems they had, in the end they won the finals, and Bounce returned to his position as coach. It's an Italian four-part comic, written by Francesco Artibani and drawn by Claudio Sciarrone and it's from 2016.

I decided to redraw the famous cover from those Slam Duck episodes, but to draw Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck as teenage boys, more precisely from the Quack Pack version. Donald's nephews in Slam Duck are kind of the beginning of their Area 15 version and that's one of my favorite versions of Donald's nephews, but somehow it seems to me that this type of series needs a slightly older version, so I decided to draw them in the Quack Pack style, in my own way. I love Quack Pack and it's a shame that there wasn't an episode dedicated to Huey, Dewey and Louie playing basketball, with their uncle Donald as their coach. It would have been interesting to see something like that as they clash with their school rivals. Admittedly, the name itself is more reminiscent of a manga called Slam Dunk, where Hanamichi Sakuragi joins the basketball team at Shōhoku High School in Japan, and that comic series ran from 1990 to 1996 and was created by Takehiko Inoue. In my opinion, it's a good read, and the manga was later made into a movie called The First Slam Dunk in 2022. Not to mention the movie Space Jam, which was released the same year as Quack Pack, and is also about basketball. Anyway, I have some ideas for this one where Donald's nephews' friends and family would join in, but more on that another time. Of course, although it deviates a bit from the original, I drew it so that Louie, as an excellent basketball player, wears a number one jersey, Huey wears a number two jersey, and Dewey wears a number three jersey. Huey and Dewey are not as good at sports as their brother Louie, but they certainly don't stray far from their beloved brother. And then there's Donald, who will teach them how to play and avoid the many obstacles. Parental attention is also very important, and I also love the dynamic relationships between Uncle Donald and his nephews Huey, Dewey and Louie in Quack Pack. Yes, Donald wears a sailor cap, but also a coach's uniform with a whistle. And I've slightly recreated the background in my own way to resemble that cover.

I hope you like this drawing, this redraw, this version and this idea and feel free to like and reblog this, just please, don't copy my versions and my ideas without mentioning me. Thanks!

Also, to thank my dear @uncaaj, who translated the comic Slam Duck and inspired me to draw this. Thank you very much, even though I know it's not Duck Avenger, but a different series. But this inspired me to draw on the covers in my own way. Also, to everyone who celebrates, I wish you a happy Valentine's Day!

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deusvervewrites · 1 month ago

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Wildcard AU: I don’t know where or when it would be appropriate, but could Terumoko be a potential Berserker candidate at some point?

I'm not sure. He doesn't really seem to have any societal issues since he got slam-dunked into the basement instead of being forced to suppress himself.

#asks #wildcard au

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edenwolfie · 1 year ago

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Slam dunks an extra right onto your dash!

Extra 1: A paper shield and a wooden sword for ‘Til our compass stands still is up!

Transcript of the images above beneath the read more!

A paper shield and a wooden sword by edenwolfie

Summary:

Extra 1 for 'Til our compass stands still. A pair of familiar faces come searching for Xie Lian in the Gambler’s Den, bringing with them some unexpected news and receiving more than they anticipated in turn. Probably intelligible without reading the original fic, but is sure will make a lot more sense with it.

Rating: Mature - No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: TGCF Relationship: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian (M/M) Characters: Xie Lian, Hua Cheng, Feng Xin, Mu Qing, Original Characters Word Count: 12.5k [complete] Additional Tags: Ghost City, AU canon divergence, established relationship, relationship reveal, friendship, flirting Part 2 of Compass + Extras

#tgcf #tgcf fic #hualian #hua cheng #xie lian #mu qing #feng xin #edenwolfie writes

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twigg96 · 10 months ago

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Ride Em' Cowboy

Chapter 1: Being Family is a Promise

Pairing: Bull Rider! Daryl X Male! EMT! Reader

Era: Rodeo AU (A Walker Free AU)

Pronouns: He/Him/You

Warnings: Swearing, Merle Dixon, Merle being Merle, Peer Pressure, Bar Scene, Smoking, Blood, light violence, slow burn

Chapter Summery: Daryl is just trying to live his life. But he has obligations that can't be ignored. Obligations to the farm he works on to keep food on the table. Obligations to friends to keep a good repour in the town. Obligations to his last remaining family member to keep him safe from his own self destructive ass.

Cigarette smoke swirled and made the air thick in the little po-dunk bar Merle frequented every single night. Daryl as the younger brother used the excuse that he had to accompany Merle... not just for the free smokes and booze Merle's friends inevitably bestowed upon him seeing him without a beer already firmly in his hand, but... to make sure Merle make it home in one piece alive and well whether he liked it or not. His brother was a bad driver even while sober.

Saddling up to the bar Daryl nursed his fourth beer of the night. Some shitty lager or Lite beer he didn't know the name of that one of Merle's shady biker friends shoved in his hands. "When you ever gonna learn?" The owner of the bar hummed shaking her head. Soft brown eyes conflicted with starlight grey hair. Staring up at the woman through his tipsy haze Daryl clicked his tongue, pulling a pack of Pall Mall Reds out of his breast pocket patting them against the bar's counter top. "Learn wha'?" He slurred, his eyes falling to his hands, flicking open the carton top of his cigarettes. Pulling one out by it's orange filter by his teeth, he wasn't surprised when a clean glass slammed against the counter in front of him. Following pale skin up to her face Daryl stared blankly back at the woman. "Followin' the likes of him around is only gonna drag ya down, pookie." Carol hummed her eyes skating past Daryl's shoulder to a table where Merle was bent over whispering in some pretty little young blonde's ear.

"Dumb sum' bitch..." Daryl huffed, throwing his arm back in his seat. "Bastard jest don't know when ta fuckin' stop." He hissed shoving the carton back in his pocket. Fishing the lighter from another pocket he ignored the forlorn way the owner stared at him. "Maybe... jest remember it ain't always your job ta clean up his messes." She hummed. Turning his glare onto Carol he huffed. "Yeah... and if it ain't then who's fuckin' job is it then?" He growled throwing himself back in his seat.

Taking a long drag from his cigarette he let the smoke linger and burn in his throat and lungs. Turning his glare to the wall full of posters behind Carol, Daryl huffed. Though he could hardly focus long enough on any of them to read the finer print with details and other nesciences, he could read the big bold titles that were meant to catch the eye of any passer by.

Fishing Contest at the Docks!! Bring the kids!!

One said in various fonts and bright bold letters that screamed it was meant for middle aged men and their wives. Daryl huffed rolling his eyes glancing down the bar to his right eyeing a blonde number who was trying almost desperately through her drunken stupor to snap a clear photograph of the poster with her cellphone. He assumed just by looking at her she was a deadbeat single mother. The large fake ass gold hoop earrings. The botched boob job and second hand knockoff designer clothing... Desperate to reconnect with her teenage kids in this last ditch attempt to keep some relevance in their life before they all ran off in their own ways... it was derepressing just to think about.

MISSING DOG: BUSTER WILL PAY REWARD

This poster in particular caught Daryl's attention with the bold capital letters screaming at him. The photo of the dog under the words looked sad, its black eyes wide and tearful, ears back as it looked up at whoever took the picture. Daryl hoped that where ever it ended up the dog ended up safer and happier than it looked there... He also wondered as he lifted his beer to his lips, if Buster was the name of the dog or the man paying the reward for the dog... It wouldn't do much good to go out yelling for the name of your bank when you need a loan would it? So why would he go out screaming some random man's name when he wasn't positive it wasn't the dog's? To top it off, one run over of the poster showed there wasn't a phone number for this person... nor an address... so what? This Buster just wanted to brag that his dog was missing? Or maybe it was a dog family desperately looking for their missing Buster. Now Daryl was really fucking confused...

Finishing his beer in one go to help clear his head he sighed. The damned wall looked like the classified section of the damned newspaper.

Roommate Needed!

Ah yes... strangers in the home were always a fantastic idea. Fucking idiot was going to end up on 60 seconds...

Rodeo This Saturday!

Did Daryl look like a god damned clown? He only tolerated the ranch he worked at for the free food and reduced rent while living on property with Merle. He wasn't about to spend his free time around more animals than he had to.

Greene's Farm Half Price! Tomatoes Carrots Lettuce Peppers - Banana, Jalapeno, Ghost, and Bell Onions Whole Ducks Whole Chickens Eggs - Unsorted! by the dozen + More!

Now that... that Daryl could get behind. The Greene's Farm was a small family owned farm in town. They took care of their own. He appreciated that. Maybe he'd swing down later in the week to restock their fridge. It was looking a little bare.

Glass shattering against the wall Daryl was fixated on pulled him out of his thoughts. Whipping around he had to admit. He wasn't completely surprised to see the heavy set man with a bald head glaring daggers at his older brother. A large arm wrapped tightly around the tiny blonde Merle had just been flirting with. The man's handlebar mustache flared out with every breath he took. Dressed in clothing that was much too expensive for the likes of the hole in the wall bar Daryl cocked his brow wondering what a man like that was ever doing in a town like this in the first place.

"Listen here ya fuckin' no good shit stain." The man growled pointing directly at Merle's chest. "I don't ever wanna see ya near my Lou ever again ya hear! Or I'll paint yer fuckin' brains all over the god damned walls!" He hissed. A reasonable request if anyone asked Daryl. Didn't matter if she were his wife or his daughter... based off the age gap alone he surely hoped it was the latter.

"Now hold on and give me a minute." Merle mused, placing his hands down on the table splaying his fingers wide. A shit eating grin plastering his face. "I didn't even kiss her."

Oh fuck.

The man's face twisted from anger and confusion to rage. "You tryin' ta prove somethin' with that?! I don't give a damn if ya kissed her! Keep yer fuckin' mits off her!" The man screamed turning beat red.

Pushing off his seat Daryl moved to stand behind his brother. Whether it was to pull his ass out of danger or fight alongside him... he wasn't sure yet. But he knew his place and he knew it well.

Merle hummed his grin turning devilish with Daryl by his side. "Well... how about a friendly wager then?" He mused. Fucking asshole.

The man opened his mouth to speak but Merle's hand shot up to interrupt. "My best man against yers... this Saturday."

The fuck did he just say? Eyebrows shooting up way past his hairline Daryl could have cold cocked Merle in the back of the head had the situation been less perilous.

But the man straightened up. Seemingly taking the bet into consideration. At a glance he didn't seem like the type to gamble especially in fights... then again Daryl couldn't exactly judge in other's vices.

"Now hold on I don't even know yer name." The man said skeptically. Good on him.

But the eldest Dixon was cunning. He hadn't gotten out of five separate charges for grand larceny and fraud for nothing. Standing up straight he met the man's eyes. "You mean you ain't never heard of little old me?" He asked. "Name's Merle Dixon." A beat passed where Daryl was positive the man had soused Merle out. He would kick his ass and this charade would end. But instead... he nodded. "Jaxon Porter. You got a team in this weekend's rodeo?" Jaxon asked earnestly.

You've gotta be shi-

Daryl's thoughts were interrupted as Merle nodded reaching behind himself. Patting Daryl's shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward the younger huffed staring hard and direct to the floor. "Sure do. Matter o' fact. Mah little brotha' is our cowboy in this year's roughstock events. Ain't that right Daryl?" Merle hummed turning a hard threatening glance his way.

Swallowing hard Daryl shuffled his feet. He hated this. He didn't exactly have plans. But he knew how fucking dangerous it all was. He fucked around cleaning enough of the bull's hooves back a the ranch to know how temperamental they were in a stall. On their back? With nothing but a rope? Never having been dehorned? Nah fuck that.

But Merle stared expectantly. The man in white expensive clothing with way too many rings on his hands was eyeing him up like a prized pig. He honestly doubted he even looked the part of a real cowboy.

But then Merle laughed rubbing his back in a way Daryl resented. "Don't worry bout him none. He's the quiet type." He mused to the rich prick. To his surprise the bastard nodded rubbing the stubble on his chin. "Makes sense. Most are." Are what?!

Shaking his head Jaxson looked down at... Lou who nodded excitedly back before meeting Merle's eyes with a gleeful expectant glint tainting her own that Daryl had seen over and over in every five dollar whore Merle brought home.

"Alright... deal. Your boy against mine. If he can out ride 'em you get ta see Lou again..." he sighed. Merle nodded smirking victoriously. "Until then-" He extended his hand toward the girl taking her hand in his raising it to his lips. But before he could even get close Jaxon's hand moved to his waist band where a pistol would be.

Stepping back Merle gripped the back of Daryl's shirt dragging him to the door with him. "AND... that's my queue baby! See you both Saturday!"

It was silent outside of the bar. Only the sound of the crickets singing and the cicadas screaming echoed through the parking lot as both Daryl and Merle stumbled to their cancer riddled truck. Struggling for domain of the driver's seat, Daryl pulled the keys from his pocket dangling them high for Merle to see. From the hard cracked leather seat he watched as Merle threw his usual temper tantrum. Bitching and complain through the glass of the truck he kicked a few rocks in the bar's parking lot before taking a piss beside the truck to mark his territory.

As Merle climbed into his side of the truck Daryl couldn't help himself... not that he wanted to anyhow. Cocking back he punched Merle square in the fucking nose just as the dick got the door closed so that the back of his head smaked off the glass window pane on his door. Watching for a moment as Merle groaned as held his face, blood flowing freely from between his fingers onto his lap, Daryl pulled a used MacWondles napkin out from the cupholder and shoved it in Merle's face.

"The fuck was tha' for?!" Merle growled with tears springing to the corners of his eyes holding the useless napkin up to his face that instantly turned to mush in his hands from the sheer amount of blood that soaked up in it. Pulling out of the lot Daryl stayed silent. Focused on the road and not swerving all over it both in his anger and drunken haze.

"Well?!" Merle hissed once more, winding the window down to toss the soaked paper out the window and pull his wifebeater off to use as a rag,

"Know damned well what ya did..." Daryl murmured. Staring like Daryl had just grown a second head Merle waved his free arm around exaggeratedly. "Obviously fuckin' not dip shit!" Merle screamed his voice sounding congested and nasally as he pinched his nose shut.

Pulling to a stop at the only stop sign in town Daryl turned and glared at Merle. His full attention on his brother he took in everything he desperately tried to find something redeeming in his brother... in that moment it was damned near impossible. It was a good thing he had been with him this long to know what his thick and thin looked like.

"You know I never rode a bull before." He murmured softly, his shoulders dropping and face falling.

Merle smirked a warm chuckle swelled from his chest. "Well hell baby brother." He hummed, relaxing in his seat. "Didn't have ta hit me just cause ya were scared... I'm sure learning ta ride a bull is jest as easy as riding a bike... you'll see. It'll be easy as pie. And trust me, there will be a hefty lump sum in for ya too if you win."

Daryl doubted that. He doubted that he'd ever make it out into the ring without being caught as a sham. Christ... who were they fooling?

Pulling away from the stop sign towards the trailer they both shared Daryl couldn't shake the nagging gnawing dread that ate into his stomach. But... Family came first. Right?

**Author's Note:

Hi guys!! This is the first Chapter fic I've ever posted to Tumblr made for Tumblr!! I would really really appreciate some feed back to know how I'm doing! I am so excited to share this WIP with you as it progresses!

Thank you all so much!!

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