#amethyst's fics

[amethystgoldenwind]

This one features a headcanon of mine, and basically was born from my ADHD slapping a thought in my head while watching Insane in the Mama Train: "How is Donnie okay as a highly sensitive autistic with no protection, you have to figure that out and save the headcanon."

While I don't have to justify my headcanon to anyone, I thought it would be fun to do it for myself. A little exercise, if you will.

[amethystarachnid]

I know it's very classic. Tony Stark x F!Reader. Office romance. Tony likes her and the reader is unaware of it. Tony gets very angry at a man who tries to flirt with the reader in the office and makes her uncomfortable, then informs him of his mistake. He drags his assistant to his room and while arguing, he lets it slip that he is in love with her.

OFFICE ROMANCE

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, romance, rom-com

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.1k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): little spicy scenes at the end, nothing too explicit

ᯓ★ Part 2

ᯓ★ yeah I know the title sucks I didnt know what to name it lol

ᯓ★ Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

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 elevator ride to Tony Stark’s office is uneventful—until the doors slide open, and you step right into chaos.

“Where is she? Where’s my assistant? Oh my God, I’m dying.”

Tony Stark is dramatically draped over his desk, one hand clutching his chest, the other extended toward the heavens like he’s in a Shakespearean tragedy. You barely have time to react before he twists his head toward the elevator, eyes locking onto yours with laser focus.

“There you are,” he groans. “Y/N, I think this is it. This is the end. You’re going to have to plan my funeral. Make it something classy, but also extravagant. Maybe fireworks? A Viking funeral? I don’t know, you decide.”

You sigh and step inside, the doors sliding shut behind you. “What is it this time, Mr. Stark?”

At the sound of his title, he frowns. “Really? We’re doing the ‘Mr. Stark’ thing today? Thought we were past that, sweetheart.”

You ignore him and set your bag down at your desk, flipping through the folders left for you overnight. Tony is still sprawled across his desk, his theatrics undeterred by your lack of concern.

“I’m serious,” he insists. “I might actually die this time.”

You finally look up at him, arms crossed. “Is it reactor-related, or are you just being dramatic?”

He gasps, placing a hand over his arc reactor. “I am never dramatic.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m a little dramatic. But you were late this morning.”

You glance at the clock. “I was not late.”

“You were late to me,” he says, pointing accusingly. “Do you know what happens when you’re not here? Bad things. Boring things. Pepper makes me do paperwork, and Happy refuses to let me take the suit out for a spin at seven in the morning.”

Your lips twitch, but you suppress the smile. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn’t realize my presence was so vital to your survival.”

He lifts his head, expression serious. “Y/N, I don’t think you understand. You are the glue holding my fragile existence together.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Without you, I am but a billionaire genius playboy philanthropist adrift, lost at sea, doomed to perish in the harsh, unforgiving corporate world.”

“You are so full of it,” you mutter, grabbing your tablet to check his schedule.

Tony watches you, chin propped up in one hand. He does this a lot—just looks at you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the room, even when you’re doing something as mundane as scheduling meetings and reading emails. But you don’t notice.

You never notice.

And it’s driving him insane.

Tony Stark is in love with you.

Painfully, ridiculously, stupidly in love with you. And he’s not subtle about it, either. At least, he doesn’t think he is. He finds reasons to keep you around, finds excuses to talk to you, makes up the dumbest emergencies just to get your attention—and yet, somehow, you remain oblivious.

It’s almost impressive, really.

But also aggravating.

Tony sighs, rubbing his hands down his face before dramatically throwing himself back in his chair. “Okay, what’s on the agenda today, darling?”

You scroll through your tablet. “You have a meeting with Pepper at ten—”

“Cancel it.”

“You cannot cancel on Pepper.”

“Fine,” he grumbles. “What else?”

“You have a tech demonstration at two, a conference call with the board at four—”

“Cancel that too.”

You sigh. “Tony.”

“Oh, now it’s Tony?” He smirks. “See, I knew you liked me.”

“I tolerate you,” you correct, setting your tablet down. “And you are going to that board meeting, whether you like it or not.”

“Fine, but only if you’re there,” he says, pointing at you. “I refuse to suffer alone.”

You roll your eyes but nod. “I’ll be there.”

Tony grins, far too pleased with himself. He’s made you sit in on dozens of meetings that had nothing to do with your job, just because he likes having you there. He tells himself it’s because you keep him sane. That you make the long, boring hours more bearable.

But if he’s being honest, it’s just because he likes looking at you.

He likes the way your lips press together when you’re concentrating, the way your nose scrunches up when he says something stupid. He likes the way your eyes soften when you talk to him, even when you’re exasperated. He likes you. God, he likes you.

And yet, you remain completely, utterly unaware.

Tony watches as you type something into your tablet, your brows furrowed in concentration. He wonders what would happen if he just said it. If he just leaned across the desk, took your hands in his, and said—

“Mr. Stark?”

He snaps out of it. “Huh?”

“You okay? You spaced out.”

Tony clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Fine. Totally fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

You squint at him, suspicious. “Are you sure? You look kind of—”

“Handsome? Dashing? Devastatingly attractive?”

“I was going to say pained, but sure.”

Tony groans and leans back in his chair. “This is agony,” he mutters.

You blink. “What is?”

You. You are agony. Being around you, loving you, wanting you, and you not even noticing—it’s torture.

But of course, he doesn’t say that.

“Nothing,” he sighs. “Just this board meeting. Ugh, corporate politics. You have to sit next to me, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, amused. “Anything else?”

“Yes. I need coffee. Desperately.”

You snort but stand up, grabbing your purse. “I’ll be back in ten.”

Tony watches you go, his head hitting the desk as soon as the doors shut behind you.

He is so screwed.

The days pass like they always do—fast, chaotic, and filled with Tony Stark’s unique brand of dramatics.

Between meetings, tech demos, Stark Industries board nonsense, and the occasional explosion in his lab (which he always swears is intentional), you’ve settled into an odd routine with him.

A routine that involves not just work, but him.

It starts small.

At first, it’s just casual conversation in between scheduling his appointments and making sure he actually attends them. A random question here and there.

“Morning, sweetheart. How do you feel about pineapple on pizza?”

“It’s fine, I guess.”

“Wrong answer. Completely unacceptable. I might have to fire you.”

Then, it becomes a daily thing.

He asks about your coffee order, remembers the way you take it without you telling him twice. He learns your favorite snacks, stocks the office kitchen with them. He finds out you love old Hollywood movies, and suddenly, his TV has a list of black-and-white classics queued up.

You don’t think much of it.

Tony Stark is friendly. He’s nosy. He likes to know things. It makes sense that he’d ask about your life outside of work.

But to him, it’s everything.

Because these little details—the things you like, the way you laugh, the way you light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about—are what keep him grounded.

Sometimes, he even talks about himself, which is rare.

You don’t realize what a big deal it is at first. You’ve worked for him long enough to know he talks a lot, but usually, it’s about his inventions or some wild new idea he has.

But with you?

He tells you about his mom’s love for classical music, how she used to play records while she cooked. How his dad was cold but brilliant, how he spent his childhood trying to impress a man who never really saw him. How he went to MIT at fifteen and spent half his time pranking professors and the other half building things he wasn’t supposed to.

He tells you about Afghanistan one night, when it’s just the two of you in his office, the city lights glowing behind him.

About the cave, about the first arc reactor, about Yinsen and what he’d meant to him.

You listen.

You don’t pity him, don’t give him some empty platitude about how it must’ve been hard. You just listen.

And Tony—who has spent most of his life drowning out his own thoughts with distractions—thinks maybe you are the best thing that has ever happened to him.

He also thinks you might never notice how much you mean to him.

Which is why he’s completely blindsided when it happens.

It’s a normal day.

You’re at your desk, typing away, while Tony lounges on the couch with a blueprint in one hand and a screwdriver in the other, pretending to work while actually watching you.

Then Happy walks in.

“There’s a guy here to see you,” he tells Tony, looking unimpressed.

Tony doesn’t even look up. “Tell him I’m busy.”

“He says it’s urgent.”

Tony sighs, pushing himself up. “Fine, fine. Send him in.”

Happy steps aside, and the guy walks in.

You glance up, offering a polite smile before going back to your work.

The man is tall, well-dressed, and carries himself like he’s important—which immediately annoys Tony. He hates people who walk into his space acting like they own the place.

“Mr. Stark,” the man says, offering his hand. “Nathan Ellis. Big fan.”

Tony shakes his hand but looks bored already. “Uh-huh. What do you want?”

Nathan chuckles, like Tony just made a joke. “I had a business proposition I wanted to discuss with you. Something that could be mutually beneficial.”

Tony gestures lazily to you. “Talk to her. She handles all the boring stuff.”

You roll your eyes but give Nathan a professional smile. “What’s the proposition?”

But Nathan isn’t looking at you like a businessman pitching an idea. He’s looking at you like a man sizing up a woman, and Tony immediately hates him.

Nathan smirks. “You’re much prettier than I expected.”

You stiffen just a little, but you keep your composure. “That’s not really relevant,” you say, your tone still polite but firm. “What’s relevant is what you’re proposing.”

Nathan leans against your desk like he belongs there. “Can’t I compliment a beautiful woman?”

Tony sits up straight, his eyes narrowing.

You force a tight smile. “I’d prefer if we kept this professional.”

Nathan laughs, but it’s the kind of laugh that says he doesn’t really take you seriously. “Oh, come on. No need to be so serious, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Tony sees red.

That’s his word.

His fingers tighten around the screwdriver in his hand, but he stays quiet—for now—watching you, waiting to see if you want him to step in.

You shift uncomfortably, clearly trying to remain professional, but it’s obvious you’re not enjoying this.

Tony doesn’t give a damn about professionalism.

He stands up, moving toward you in a few easy strides before leaning down and planting his hands on your desk, effectively caging you in while staring Nathan down.

“You know,” Tony says, voice deceptively light, “I really don’t like it when people make my assistant uncomfortable.”

Nathan blinks, clearly not expecting that.

You glance up at Tony, eyes wide.

Tony doesn’t look at you. His attention is solely on Nathan, his jaw tight, his expression calm but dangerous.

Nathan chuckles nervously. “I was just making conversation.”

“Yeah? Well, here’s the thing,” Tony says, tilting his head. “She doesn’t want to have a conversation with you.”

Nathan raises his hands. “Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

Tony smiles, but it’s not friendly. “Oh, buddy, you stepped on mine, and I really don’t like that.”

Nathan shifts uncomfortably.

Tony straightens, taking a step back—but then he leans down again, close enough that only Nathan can hear when he says, “If you ever talk to her like that again, I will ruin your entire life before breakfast.”

Nathan swallows.

Tony claps him on the shoulder, grinning. “Now, I think we’re done here.”

Nathan nods quickly, then turns and practically flees the office.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Tony turns to you, concern flickering across his face. “You okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. Just… guys like that make my skin crawl.”

Tony watches you for a moment, then surprises you by gently brushing his fingers over yours.

You glance down at your hands, startled.

It’s not much. Just the lightest touch. But it makes your heart stutter.

“Next time, just say the word,” Tony says softly. “I’ll handle it.”

You swallow, suddenly very aware of how close he is.

“I—uh—thank you,” you murmur.

Tony smirks, his fingers curling around yours for just a second before he lets go.

Then, just like that, he’s back to normal, plopping onto the couch and stretching like nothing happened.

But something did.

And for the first time, you wonder if you’ve been missing something this whole time.

In the days after the Nathan incident, something shifts.

You don’t know what it is exactly, but you feel it.

Maybe it’s the way Tony watches you a little too closely when he thinks you aren’t looking. Or the way you replay that moment in your head—his fingers brushing yours, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

Or maybe it’s the way you feel when you look at him now.

You’ve worked for Tony long enough to know he’s magnetic. People gravitate toward him, caught in his orbit like planets around the sun. You’ve always thought he was charming in an annoying way, a flirt by nature, someone who could talk his way into—or out of—anything.

But now, for the first time, you find yourself looking at him differently.

You start noticing things you never did before.

The way his eyes soften when he looks at you. The way he always saves the last bite of his favorite snacks for you. The way he makes excuses to keep you in his office longer, even when the work is done.

And it’s terrifying.

Because if this was anyone else—anyone—maybe you’d let yourself admit it. Maybe you’d let yourself fall.

But this is Tony Stark. Your boss.

And that means it’s impossible.

So, you bury it. You convince yourself you’re imagining things, that Tony is just Tony, and you’re reading into it too much.

Then Nathan Ellis comes back.

You’re at your desk, sorting through a ridiculous amount of emails when Happy walks in, looking unimpressed as always.

“Great,” he mutters. “He’s back.”

You look up, confused. “Who’s back?”

As if on cue, Nathan Ellis strolls in, his smarmy grin already making your stomach twist.

Tony is in the corner of the room, tinkering with something, but at the sound of Nathan’s voice, his hands still.

Nathan leans against your desk. “Miss Y/N,” he says smoothly. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot last time.”

You keep your expression polite but distant. “Did we?”

He laughs. “Look, I’m not here to talk business today.”

Tony doesn’t like that.

His fingers tighten around his wrench, his jaw clenching as he subtly shifts closer to listen.

Nathan continues, oblivious. “I was hoping to make it up to you. Dinner, maybe? There’s a great place downtown. My treat.”

You blink, caught off guard.

Your first instinct is to say no. You don’t like Nathan. He made you uncomfortable, and you have no interest in him.

But then—Tony.

You don’t look at him, but you feel his presence. You feel the weight of everything unspoken between you, the things you refuse to acknowledge.

So before you can think it through, you hear yourself say, “Sure.”

It’s a knee-jerk reaction, a way to prove—to yourself, to Tony, to whatever this thing is between you—that you can still be rational. That you don’t have feelings for Tony. That you can move on, be professional, keep your life normal.

But as soon as the word leaves your mouth, you regret it.

Nathan grins, clearly pleased. “Great. I’ll pick you up Friday at seven.”

You nod stiffly, and he finally leaves.

Silence lingers in the room.

You risk a glance at Tony.

He’s looking at his workbench, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say a word.

And that, somehow, makes you feel worse.

—

Friday rolls around faster than you expect.

You dread it.

The moment you wake up, you regret saying yes.

You don’t want to go out with Nathan.

But backing out now would make you look ridiculous, and you refuse to admit—to yourself or to anyone else—why you really don’t want to go.

So, you tell yourself you’ll go. One date. It’s not a big deal.

Then Tony ruins it.

The day is insane.

More meetings than usual, a sudden crisis with one of Stark Industries’ overseas contracts, a last-minute tech demo that Tony insists he needs you to be there for.

By the time you finally look at the clock, it’s almost nine.

Your stomach drops.

You completely forgot about the date.

You grab your phone, wincing when you see multiple missed calls and texts from Nathan, all of them getting progressively more annoyed.

Shit.

You stand abruptly, grabbing your bag.

Tony—who is lounging on the couch, looking suspiciously satisfied—raises an eyebrow. “Going somewhere?”

You glare at him. “Did you do this on purpose?”

He blinks, all mock innocence. “Do what?”

“This.” You gesture wildly at the stack of paperwork still on your desk, the mess of your day, the way you were so busy you lost track of time. “You knew I had plans tonight.”

Tony shrugs. “Did you?”

You want to scream.

“Tony.”

Something flickers in his expression when you say his name like that—low, almost dangerous.

You step closer, jabbing a finger at his chest. “You did do this on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, but the smug look on his face tells you everything.

He did this.

He made sure you were too busy to leave, too busy to go on the date.

And for some reason, that makes your heart pound in a way you don’t want to analyze.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter.

Tony leans back, tilting his head at you. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a date.”

You gape at him. “That’s not the point!”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is you manipulated me into missing it!”

He stands, stepping into your space, close enough that you have to crane your neck to keep looking at him.

And suddenly, the room feels too small.

“I didn’t manipulate anything,” he says, voice low. “I just gave you work. You’re the one who got so caught up in it you forgot about him.”

Your breath catches.

Because he’s right.

You were the one who didn’t check the time. The one who let yourself get wrapped up in Tony’s world.

And maybe—just maybe—it was because deep down, you didn’t want to go.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he wanted this. That he made sure it happened.

You shake your head, stepping back. “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Mess with my life like this. You don’t get to control who I see, Tony.”

He flinches.

For a second, you think he’s going to argue, make another joke, deflect like he always does.

But instead, he just watches you, something raw and unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

Then, he sighs. Runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re right,” he says quietly. “I don’t.”

The honesty in his voice catches you off guard.

It almost—almost—makes you soften.

But you’re still angry.

So without another word, you turn on your heel and leave.

Tony doesn’t stop you.

And the worst part?

A small, traitorous part of you wishes he had.

You don’t make it far.

You storm out of the office, heart pounding, anger bubbling in your chest so violently you can taste it. You don’t even know where you’re going—just away.

Away from Tony and his smug little I didn’t manipulate anything face. Away from the way he looked at you, like he wasn’t the least bit sorry. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Like he had every right to do it.

You make it to the elevator before you hear him behind you.

“Y/N.”

You don’t turn around.

“Y/N,” Tony repeats, voice sharp now, edged with something you don’t recognize.

You stab the elevator button. “Go away, Tony.”

“Yeah, see, that’s not gonna happen.”

You spin on your heel, glaring at him. “Oh, what now? You gonna kidnap me? Make sure I never leave this damn building?”

Tony sighs like you’re the one being difficult. “I just want to talk.”

“Oh, now you want to talk?” You laugh, crossing your arms. “Because when I was trying to talk about how you sabotaged my night, you had nothing to say.”

Tony clenches his jaw. “It wasn’t sabotage.”

“Oh, really?” You raise an eyebrow. “So it was just a coincidence that today of all days you gave me twice as much work as usual? That you suddenly needed me in meetings I normally don’t have to be in? That you—”

“I didn’t want you to go.”

The words come out quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

But you hear them.

And you freeze.

Tony exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. His gaze flickers away for a second, like he’s regretting saying it.

But then he looks back at you, and there’s something in his eyes—something real.

Something that makes your stomach flip.

You swallow hard. “Tony…”

He shakes his head. “Just—come back to the office. Please.”

You should say no. You should walk away.

But you don’t.

Because even though you’re furious, even though every rational part of your brain is screaming at you to be professional—to keep things normal—there’s a deeper, quieter part of you that wants to hear what he has to say.

So, you turn. Walk back.

And Tony follows.

—

The office feels different when you get back.

Quieter. Tense.

You lean against your desk, arms crossed, watching as Tony paces the room.

“Well?” you say finally.

Tony stops. Looks at you.

And for the first time since you’ve known him, he looks… nervous.

Not the fake, exaggerated kind he puts on for show, but real nervous.

He exhales. “I don’t want you dating him.”

You scoff. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“I don’t want you dating anyone.”

Your breath catches.

Tony swallows hard. “Because I—” He hesitates, like he’s physically fighting the words. Then, finally, he just says it.

“Because I love you.”

Everything stops.

The air in the room shifts, like the world itself is holding its breath.

You stare at him, your brain struggling to process what just happened.

Tony looks like he wants to take it back, like he wants to shove the words back into his mouth and pretend they never happened.

But they did.

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

The way he looks at you. The way he knows you—your coffee order, your favorite movies, the way you feel about things before you even say them.

The way he brushed his fingers over yours that day, like it meant something.

The way he sabotaged your date—not because he was being petty, but because the thought of you with someone else made him want to burn the world down.

And, God—maybe you do love him.

Maybe you have for longer than you realized.

You exhale sharply, your heart slamming against your ribs.

“Say something,” Tony mutters.

You don’t.

You move.

Before you can second-guess yourself, before you can let all the rules and expectations stop you, you grab him by the collar of his stupidly expensive shirt and kiss him.

Tony freezes for half a second.

Then he melts.

His hands come up, one gripping your waist, the other tangling in your hair. He kisses you like he’s starving for it, like he’s been waiting for this—for you.

And maybe he has.

Maybe you both have.

When you finally pull back, you’re breathless.

Tony stares at you, lips parted, looking so completely wrecked that you almost laugh.

Almost.

Instead, you press your forehead against his, inhaling deeply.

“I hate you,” you whisper.

Tony chuckles, breath warm against your skin. “No, you don’t.”

You sigh, closing your eyes. “You could’ve just told me.”

“Yeah,” Tony murmurs. “But where’s the fun in that?”

You do laugh this time.

Because of course he’d say that.

Because of course it was always going to be this—messy, chaotic, inevitable.

And as Tony kisses you again—slow this time, like he never wants to stop—you know one thing for certain.

You’re never making it to another date with anyone ever again.

Tony kisses you like he’s making up for lost time. Like he’s wanted this for so long he doesn’t know how to hold back anymore. His hands grip your waist, fingers pressing into your skin through the fabric of your blouse as he pulls you closer, eliminating the last bit of space between you. You feel the edge of the desk dig into the small of your back, but you don’t care. Not when Tony’s mouth is on yours, not when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, not when his hand slides up your back, warm and firm and impossible to ignore.

You gasp against his lips, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt, and he groans in response. The sound sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly you’re not thinking about where you are or what this means or how this is completely unprofessional. You’re only thinking about how much you want him. How much you’ve always wanted him, even when you didn’t want to admit it.

Tony shifts, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs, and before you can process what’s happening, he lifts you onto the desk. You barely manage to let out a startled breath before he’s between your legs, pressing into you, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jaw to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You tilt your head back, your hands moving on their own, pushing his jacket off his shoulders, sliding over the hard planes of his chest. Tony lets out a low curse, his breath hot against your skin, and you know this is getting out of control. You know you should stop. But then his fingers graze the hem of your skirt, and your heart is pounding, and—

A knock on the door makes you both freeze.

Your eyes snap open, and Tony’s lips still against your throat. For a second, neither of you moves. Your breath is ragged, and Tony’s grip on your waist tightens like he’s physically stopping himself from ignoring the interruption.

“Tony?”

Happy’s voice is muffled through the door, but it’s enough to jolt you back to reality.

You push at Tony’s chest, and he steps back with obvious reluctance. His eyes are dark, his hair is a mess from your hands, and his lips are swollen. The sight of him like this, completely wrecked, makes something deep in your stomach tighten.

You shake yourself out of it, sliding off the desk as you smooth down your clothes. Tony watches you, chest rising and falling like he’s trying to get himself under control.

“Yeah, yeah,” he calls out, voice rough. “Give me a second.”

There’s a pause, then the sound of footsteps retreating.

You exhale, pressing your fingers to your temples.

“That was—”

Tony smirks. “Hot?”

You glare at him, but it lacks heat. “Unprofessional.”

Tony sighs dramatically. “Yeah, that too.”

You shake your head, trying to ignore the way your entire body is still buzzing. “We can’t do that at work.”

Tony’s smirk widens, and you realize what you just said a second too late.

“So you’re saying we can do it outside of work?”

You groan. “Not what I meant.”

Tony grins, stepping closer again. His fingers brush your wrist, light and teasing. “Come over after your shift.”

You bite your lip, considering.

Tony dips his head, voice dropping. “I’ll behave.”

You snort. “No, you won’t.”

Tony shrugs, completely unapologetic. “Yeah, okay, I won’t.”

You roll your eyes but don’t say no.

Tony notices.

—

You don’t talk about what this means. You don’t sit down and define your relationship, don’t have some long, serious conversation about what you are to each other now.

But you don’t need to.

Because it’s obvious in the way Tony kisses you when you show up at his penthouse after work. In the way he pulls you onto the couch, his hands sliding under your shirt, his mouth never leaving yours. In the way you spend the night tangled in his sheets, waking up to his arm draped over your waist, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

It’s obvious in the way he looks at you at work, in the way he always finds an excuse to touch you. A hand at the small of your back when he passes by, a brush of his fingers against yours when he hands you something, a teasing whisper against your ear that makes you shiver.

You try to be subtle.

You don’t want anyone thinking you’re only with him to climb the corporate ladder, and Tony—surprisingly—understands. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t announce it to the world, doesn’t make some grand declaration in the middle of a meeting.

But he also doesn’t hide it.

Not really.

Because the way he looks at you isn’t subtle. The way he finds any excuse to keep you in his office longer than necessary isn’t subtle. The way he calls you sweetheart in private and Miss Y/L/N in front of others with a smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s doing definitely isn’t subtle.

And then there are the stolen kisses.

The ones in the elevator when no one else is around. The ones in the hallway when he tugs you into a supply closet with a grin and a just real quick, I missed you. The ones at his penthouse when you show up after a long day and he greets you at the door with his hands already on your hips, pulling you inside like he’s been waiting for you all day.

Because he has.

You find yourself spending more nights at his place than your own. It starts slowly—one night, then two, then three. Then, before you know it, most of your stuff is at his penthouse, and you don’t even think about going home after work anymore.

Tony never says anything about it. He never asks you to stay.

But he doesn’t have to.

Because the way he holds you when you fall asleep says everything.

Because the way he presses a lazy kiss to your temple in the morning when he thinks you’re still asleep says everything.

Because the way he looks at you—like you’re the most important thing in the world—says everything.

Tony kisses you like he’s savoring every second. His hands rest on your waist, fingers pressing just enough to make you shiver. You’re sitting on his desk, legs wrapped loosely around his hips, completely lost in the moment. It’s a rare quiet afternoon in the office, just the two of you, and Tony has taken full advantage of it.

You hum against his lips as he trails his mouth down your jaw, then lower to your neck. His stubble grazes your skin, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. His lips are warm, soft, teasing as he lingers just beneath your ear. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Tony chuckles when he feels your breath hitch. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

You grab a fistful of his shirt. Tony responds with a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of your neck. His tongue flicks against your skin, followed by a light nip that makes you gasp. His mouth lingers there, sucking just hard enough to leave his mark.

A sharp knock on the door shatters the moment.

You both freeze. Tony exhales against your skin, shoulders tensing.

Another knock, this one louder.

Tony groans. "They have the worst timing, I swear—"

Then the door swings open, and your stomach drops.

Nathan Ellis stands in the doorway, his expression dark and furious.

The sight of him immediately kills any lingering warmth from your moment with Tony. He looks different from the smooth, arrogant man who asked you out—his jaw is clenched, his eyes cold, his posture rigid with anger.

You stiffen, already knowing this won’t be good.

Nathan steps inside without waiting for permission, eyes locked onto you. "You stood me up."

Tony straightens, immediately stepping in front of you in a way that makes it clear he has no intention of letting Nathan get any closer. "Big deal," he says flatly. "She didn’t want to go. Move on."

Nathan ignores him, eyes still burning into you. "You didn’t even have the decency to text me? Let me know instead of wasting my time?"

Your throat tightens. You don’t want to deal with this. "I got caught up at work. It wasn’t intentional."

Nathan scoffs. "Bullshit. You’re just another woman who likes to play games. You say yes to a date and then don’t even bother showing up? You think that makes you look good?"

Something shifts in Tony. His entire body goes tense, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. "Watch how you talk to her."

Nathan finally looks at Tony, his upper lip curling in disgust. "Oh, I get it now. This is why you didn’t show up, huh?" His gaze flickers back to you, sharp and accusing. Then his eyes catch something on your neck, and his entire expression twists into something uglier.

Your stomach sinks.

You don’t even need to look in a mirror to know what he’s staring at. You feel the lingering warmth where Tony’s mouth was just moments ago.

Nathan lets out a short, bitter laugh. "Wow. That’s just perfect." He turns back to Tony. "Guess I should’ve figured. Why go out with someone like me when you can just screw your boss instead?"

Your eyes widen in shock.

Tony moves before you can react.

His fist collides with Nathan’s jaw, the impact loud in the silence of the office. Nathan stumbles back, his hand flying up to his face, a stunned expression flashing across his features before fury takes over.

"Tony!" You grab his arm before he can swing again, your heart pounding.

Nathan straightens, eyes blazing with pure hatred. "You’re insane."

Tony glares at him. "Get out."

Nathan sneers, wiping his mouth. "Oh, trust me, I’m leaving. But you’re gonna regret this. Both of you."

Tony doesn’t even let him turn fully before pulling out his phone and pressing a button. "Happy. Come get this asshole out of my office."

Nathan’s jaw tightens, but before he can say anything else, heavy footsteps echo down the hall. Happy Hogan appears in the doorway, expression unreadable but posture firm.

"Let’s go," Happy says.

Nathan glares at you one last time, then at Tony, before reluctantly stepping back. Happy follows him out, and just like that, he’s gone.

The office is silent again, but the tension lingers.

Your pulse is still racing. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down. Then you look at Tony.

He’s standing there, still tense, his hand flexing like he’s barely holding himself back from going after Nathan again.

"You punched him," you say, still a little in shock.

Tony shrugs. "He deserved it."

You let out a breath, rubbing your hands over your face. "I can’t believe this happened."

Tony frowns. "You okay?"

You hesitate. "I just—" You groan. "Tony, you gave me a hickey."

Tony blinks, then smirks. "Just now realizing that?"

You glare at him. "I have to work in this office. People are gonna see."

Tony tilts his head, completely unbothered. "So? Let ‘em see."

You stare at him. "I don’t want them to see."

He sighs dramatically. "Alright, alright. I guess I can be more strategic about my placement next time."

You groan again, turning toward your desk. "I need concealer."

Tony snickers. "You could just wear a scarf. It’d be very elegant. Very old-Hollywood."

You shoot him a look over your shoulder. "You think this is funny."

Tony steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder as he murmurs against your ear, "I know this is funny."

You shove at him, but you’re smiling despite yourself. "You’re the worst."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw before finally letting you go. "Now hurry up and cover it. I have a meeting in ten minutes, and I need my very professional assistant to not look like she just had a makeout session with her boss."

You roll your eyes, reaching into your bag for your concealer. Tony watches you with a stupidly smug expression.

You shake your head, but your heart is still racing for a completely different reason now.

Because even after everything, even after the chaos Nathan caused, one thing is crystal clear.

You and Tony? You’re solid. And no one—not Nathan, not anyone—can change that.

[tobyisave]

the new crystal temp

[ghostbsuter]

Inspired by this !!

—

They had an agreement.

The Justice League Dark would create their own team fo adolescent and teens, teach them of their arts, their magic.

The team, Young Justice but Dark basically, was picked carefully.

The first to join was Raven, unsurprisingly, after her Amethyst.

Not long after came Black Bat, Wonder– and Supergirl, both there by request from Batman and Wonder woman. They had to learn of thy mystic world much more as time goes, this would certainly help.

Rose Psychic, begrudgingly, had given the opportunity to her student as well, who had accepted and became a member of the team. Tim Hunter.

After, by Constantines insistence, Phantom joined as well.

And that was how Young Justice Dark was born.

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Gen Words: 2.8K~ Summary: Not too long after making peace with Homeworld and sparking the start of Era 3, Steven wakes up one morning to discover some... notable changes about himself.

AKA: The one where Steven finally hits his growth-spurt. All at once. Because of course the half-Gem kid could never experience such a human thing like puberty in a "normal" way.

[Part 1 of 2]

Just a few seconds later, knuckles rap against the door in answer to his perturbed cry. 

“Yo Steve-o, that you in there?” Amethyst calls. 

“Y-yeah?” he stammers. His brows threading inwards, he delicately runs his fingers over the ridge upon his throat, very much thrown off by the distinctly lower tenor of the sound coming from his own mouth. He swallows hard, pushing himself to speak again. Come on Steven, he berates himself, think of something lighthearted. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. No need to completely freak out over this yet. “Who else would I be? It’s not like the whole town uses this bathroom…”

“I mean, I do sometimes. For fun.”

“Okay, fair point, but—”

“Dude, what’s wrong with your voice? Are you like, sick or somethin’?“

“No, it’s just—” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out all the nebulous, spinning distractions of his mind and the world beyond. Deep breath. It’s okay. Tons of things about his form may be entirely different right now, but like… he seems fine. Right?? Nothing about his body feels tangibly wrong like it did when he willfully stretched himself out on his 14th birthday, or when he changed all his fingers into cats, or when he lost all control of his aging and morphed into an anciently old man and almost died, it’s just… 

New.

New and wholly unfamiliar.

So what now? How can he bravely move forward with all this? What does he need to know? 

“Have, uh… have you ever shapeshifted by accident in your sleep?”

“Not that I‘m aware of,” she says, and he can practically hear the shrug in her tone. “Shapeshifting is a conscious thing you do. It’s a choice, y’know? It doesn’t just happen.”

A good long moment passes as he drinks this information in. He runs his hand through the short curls at the back of his neck as he stands there in the pair of too-small banana yellow pajamas he fit in just fine last night, musing.

“Huh… I guess that makes things pretty simple, then.”

“What d’ya’—”

“Amethyst, I think I’m finally older,” he says, still absolutely mystified by this prospect as he gawks at himself in the mirror. 

She gives a fond laugh. “Ch’a, right? You get older everyday, bud. Wild.”

“No, I mean I’m actually, physically older! Look!”

Steven whirls around and swings the bathroom door wide open to show her. Amethyst’s jaw drops.

“Whoa—! Dude!”

Chuckling nervously, he steps a few feet out, wriggling his bare toes against the wood floor. “I know, right?”

“What the heck, you weren’t kidding!” Before he can even move to say anything else, she spins on her heels and cups her mouth with her hands, hollering towards the temple door. “HEY, PEARL! GARNET! You gotta get out here and see this!”

His brows shoot towards his hairline, his heart hammering in his chest all the while at the thought of all the dumb show-and-tell he’s gonna have to deal with now. “Aww, come on, did you really have to—”

“Amethyst!” Pearl cries, scrambling through the still opening gap in the doorway with Garnet striding mere steps behind. She summons her spear from her gem and swings it to fighting stance with an artful flourish. “What happened? Where’s the threat? What do you need us for??”

Steven darts towards them, hands held up in a placating plea.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! There’s no danger! We’re fine. I just—”

“Oh, my stars—!” she gasps, allowing her spear to dissipate in a glittery flicker of light. “You’ve grown!”

“Nice look, Steven,” Garnet nods, a supportive smile gracing her lips.

“And you’re sure this is real this time? You’re not—?”

“No, no, I’m not stretching myself out, I promise. I just woke up like this.”

“B-but—” Pearl taps her fingers against her chin, appearing thoroughly puzzled— “I thought humans were supposed to age gradually, not all at once.”

Steven’s shoulders slump. “Well… that’s what I assumed too, but—”

“Come, sit with me,” Garnet says, walking around the warp pad to enter the living room. She sets herself down on the couch, patting the cushion in open invitation.

With a heavy, far too weary for his age sigh, Steven shoves his hands in the pockets of his too-small banana pajamas and plods his way over. The rest of the Gems follow suit. He settles himself right next to Garnet, with Pearl perched opposite to her and Amethyst happily lounging on the floor, leaning on the coffee table with her elbows. 

“Steven’s aging hasn’t aligned with the norms of humanity for a very long time,” she observes, a glint of morning sun that’s beaming through the window catching on the edge on the edge of her star shaped visor. Then, turning to him: “I’m curious why you think this is.”

He hums, considering all the chaotic happenings of the past few years. Despite the rare query she poses, he gets the sense that… in her vast wisdom… she already knows the answer. Or at least, a small sum of it. It should be noted that her future vision— as far-reaching as it otherwise is with the vast possibilities of existence— can’t ever touch any knowledge that she won’t be conscious for or present to receive, let alone retroactively scry into the past.

(And honestly? Thank goodness for that.)

“I’m not sure,” he says, a half-lie.

He can think of one reason he might’ve started aging again. Though, it’s not something he’s ready to talk to the Gems about yet. It’s… far too delicate a topic to risk bringing up so soon after the start of peaceful Era 3. But after spending a whole childhood being constantly compared to and mistaken as various versions of his mom… let’s just say, having his gem torn from his body and getting to see it reform into a version of himself (and not her) was simultaneously the worst and the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. While undeniably traumatic, this experience served as the ultimate proof that he doesn’t have to waste another second of his existence chewing away at some burgeoning identity crisis, that he can live his life however he wants. As Steven. Not as Rose, or Pink Diamond, just… Steven.

He’s not exactly sure how all this mental weirdness translates into him staying stuck looking like a little kid for like… six or so years, but after he returned home from his latest escapade on Homeworld, he could sense that— despite all the messed up stuff he and Connie went through— his spirit was lighter, somehow.

So maybe, he thinks, he simply had to peel away at all the damaged layers of his identity to ready himself to move on to the next stage of his life. Maybe he had to stare death in the eye and pass through the heart of the storm in spite of all these hardships before he could piece the foundational truths of his story back together and learn to finally live again.

To start shifting his hopeful gaze towards the dawn of their bright, sunny future…

“I mean, I always kinda thought he stopped aging because we never did,” Amethyst says then, laying her cheek on the table. “Like, it happened around the time you moved in with us, yeah?”

He purses his lips, scanning his memory. “Uh… I think so? It might have been a year before. Two, even. But I was definitely hanging out with y’all a lot by then.”

She leans over and playfully slugs him in the arm.

“See, there you go! You always wanted to be just like us when you were a kid, so much that you even wore that same ol’ star shirt every day to match ours, ha! You must’ve wanted to be a Gem so badly that you subconsciously stopped becoming older at all.”

“That’s actually a pretty solid theory, Amethyst,” Pearl chimes in. “Good thinking!”

“We have seen you shift your form in response to your perception of others around you,” Garnet says with a nod. “This has caused you to temporarily age and shapeshift in the past, but for you to age in a stable way now, your perception of self must have stabilized, too. I’m very happy for you, Steven.”

She tousles his mess of curls with her gold ringed hand, a welcome little offering of affection that he eagerly leans into.

And then, out of nowhere, Amethyst starts cackling.

“Dude,” she blurts out between her peels of laughter, nudging his foot with her elbow, “I just realized— Greg’s gonna totally lose his shit when he sees this…”

Pearl’s expression scrunches inwards with prickly displeasure. “Language!” 

“What, it’s true!”

He waves Amethyst’s comment off. “Pshhh, my dad’s seen way weirder,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Like, did I ever tell y’guys how the cat fingers incident ended?”

“No!” the quartz exclaims with intensive fervor, and leans forward in anticipation. “Gimme the juicy deets, m’man!”

Garnet adjusts her visor then, her features falling into a dutiful line. “Speaking of Greg… story time can wait until later. Steven— if you want to see your father this morning, you need to head over there now… or there’s a good chance he’ll fall back asleep until one and you’ll miss your window.”

Amethyst’s lips fall into a pout as she slumps back against the foot of the couch, her arms crossed. “Awww, phooey. Spoil sport.”

He swallows a grimace as he internalizes Garnet’s prediction. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s become a bad habit for his old man lately, staying up super late and then sleeping in almost half the day on weekends. Ever since he received that ten million dollar residues check it’s nothing that can hinder his financials anymore, thank goodness, but then again…

“Yeah… I should probably go make sure he wakes up,” he mutters, pushing his tired body off his seat. “I’ll need his help finding new clothes, anyways.”

The second he’s up and moving again, Amethyst darts around him and snatches his spot with such swift and viscous drive that one might believe this ploy were her sole quest and purpose in life. She stretches out against the seat back with a big, dramatic yawn, crossing her arms behind her head as she speaks. 

“It’s too bad you can’t just… I dunno… summon whatever clothes you want out of light, like us. That’s like the biggest bummer of humanity, if you ask me.”

“And when do you ever experiment with your outfit enough to have a strong opinion about this?” Pearl prods, crossing her arms. “It took you almost a decade to fix that asymmetrical shoulder strap.”

“Well, P… I like to think of myself as a Gem who would experiment with my outfit. One day. If I’m ever really, really bored. Consider it an Era 3 aspiration.”

Steven rocks back and forth on his heels, absentmindedly fiddling with the fraying bottom hem of his pajama top.

“Okay, uh… well, I’m gonna dress to leave now, so—”

“Yeah, see ‘ya.”

“Send a text if you need anything!” Pearl says with a casual wave.

“And don’t forget…” Garnet begins, the ellipses in her tone practically visible with the naked eye.

He pauses in his dutiful march to the stairs— (a somewhat unsteady march… as it turns out, shooting up about a foot and a half in height overnight tends to impact one’s sense of balance for the worst, go figure)— turning back to intercept whatever life advice or future vision she’s prepared for him this time. 

She grins, flashing him a quick heart with her hands instead. “We love you!”

~~

Steven trudges across the hot sands to his dad’s car wash sans his favorite flip flops, trying his very darnedest to wipe away the developing grimace on his face all the while. 

A small segment of him felt overjoyed when he first saw his reflection this morning, eager to look his age and finally grow up alongside his human friends. But after struggling to find anything that fits him even halfway right in his wardrobe, his good mood has rapidly spoiled. There’s a decent few reasons for this.

Reason number one: his old sandals are at least two sizes too small. His heels stick out over the end now, and the plastic thong digs into his toes something terrible. He literally can’t wear them without giving himself blisters. Ergo, his bare feet right now. 

Reason number two: none of his jeans sit right around the waist anymore, plus they make him look like he’s waiting for a flood. (Though thankfully, he found a stretchy blue skirt buried in one of his drawers that will do the trick for now.) 

And perhaps worst of all… reason number three: with his newly increased height, every single one of his treasured star shirts have been turned into ill-fitting crop tops, putting his gem on full display. He’s not against the concept of a crop top, but it sure ain’t a look he’s passionate about for everyday wear. It just feels… too exposing. Like, what about winter?? He can’t bear his whole midriff in winter, he’d freeze, and like… get hypothermia, or something. And not only that, but the longer he’s awake this morning the more an inescapable, thrumming ache starts to settle within the deepest core of his body, like even his bones themselves— the stubborn things— dare to object to this abrupt growth spurt.

Just… ugh. What an annoying hassle all these changes bring.  

“Stupid shirt,” he grouses, tugging at the too-tight collar, “stupid sandals, stupid Gem puberty! Why, oh why can’t I ever go through human stuff normally?”

His bare foot catches upon a sizable stone hidden amongst the beach. On any other day he would’ve successfully broken his fall, stumbling forwards a few awkward steps before regaining his balance and continuing on his way. But with his body now so different, and his center of gravity entirely off from what he’s used to, he head plants straight into the ground.

Wow, he thinks, spitting sand out of his mouth and pushing himself back to his feet. How elegant. Truly the shining paragon of coordination and grace.

Thank goodness no one was watching. Next time he’ll just have to remember to float.

He arrives at his dad’s van with no further incident. The rear doors are— following Garnet’s prediction- cracked open. Dad’s awake, at least for now.

“Daaaaaaaad,” he hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth to project. “A really, really weird thing happened, and I kinda need your help!”

A few spare seconds pass, seconds filled with the rustles of shifting blankets, the sound of a book being shut closed, and his dad’s low murmurs. The doors swing wide, though not as wide as Dad’s eyes when they wander around their bright, sunny surroundings and eventually land square on him and his new look.

“Wh— Steven, holy smokes! Look at you!”

With an awkward chuckle, he scratches away at an itch at the nape of his neck. “Heh heh, I know, right?”

“You’re almost as tall as your old man! When did this happen? How did this happen?”

“Some point last night, I guess,” he shrugs. “I just woke up like this. But Dad—” he clings onto his arm with mounting desperation— “I need your help to find some new shirts. Don’t you have like… whole boxes of your old tour merch stashed away somewhere? I don’t wanna have to get rid of my star, I just— I just need a bigger size, or something.”

“Hmmm…” Dad muses, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “Well, maybe, but…”

“But what?”

“But if any of it’s still around, then it’s probably in Amethyst’s room. All of the stuff from the storage unit ended up with her, remember?”

“Oh…” he says, brows furrowed, not quite able to parse this fact within his memory yet. And then… 

Ugh. That’s right.

Two New Years’ ago. The huge mess of crates and mattresses and long forgotten belongings. All that ridiculous Little Butler nonsense. Amethyst’s fight with Dad.

“Oh,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. “Right. Well, then let’s go find it!”

“R- right now?”

“Yeah, why not? I need new clothes, and you could see if there’s any old junk in there you might want to keep!”

With that, he grabs his dad’s hand and yanks him along, spirit filled with renewed purpose and vigor.

“And you’re sure you need my help for this?” Dad asks, lagging a step or two behind him as they march back across the beach together. “The Gems, they… well, they don’t usually want me going into the temple—”

“Oh, Amethyst will be fine,” he says with a wave of his palm. “She never cares when I go in there to check out her trash piles. ‘Sides, I need your help to find the right box! I have no idea what your old band stuff was stashed in.”

His dad flashes a tight smile, the sort he always serves up when he’s nervous, but also too timid to tell him that he’s nervous.

“Well… if you think she’ll allow it…” he relents, and picks up his pace to match his.

~~

[End Part 1... more to be shared later.]

[niik0]

Misunderstood and accidentally made my bingo card for the rest of the ENTIRETY of TTSBCs not just the final arc

Anyways this took my like half an hour and I’ll be using it until the series is done, I tried to only give myself one or two freebies haha

[lonelygrayrose]

Remember how I said something fun was coming for fans of The Amnesia Videos?

Art by @m3gahet check out their blog! They do comissions and are a delight to work with.

My best friend comissioned the art for my birthday and it was SO hard to choose which scene to have drawn! I hope you guys like it as much as I do!

Art without text and link to The Amnesia Videos below the cut off!

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 9: Fall

Summary: Right on the heels of that ghost pirate ship raid and subsequent rescue of their parents, school feels off with some pretty notable people treating him quite differently. Though the only person who hasn't yet caught on is the object of all their affections and attention, Danny Fenton.

direct continuation of [day 8]

(5 times someone started acting weirdly/caught feelings +1 time they all came together and Danny realizes what's been going on)

AO3 link

Dash:

Fenton was actually kind of cool last night! What is this world coming to?

But also humble? He wouldn't accept any compliment and while Dash gets it, but c'mon! He got all of them to fight a ghost pirate crew and soloed the captain. That has to mean something to him!

...

Right?

Fuck! Now Fenton has him concerned. Made such an impression it kind of feels wrong to use his usual demeaning nicknames for him, too.

He can't get it out of his head. That Fenton taking his aggression out on that ghost was a little hot. He's not supposed to feel like this! He's probably just concerned it will be turned on him next!

Yeah, that must be it!

Fenton is so scrawny, of course he'd be worried! He's able to do all of that while still being such a stick of a person. It also feels wrong, though, with how badly he takes care of himself. He's badass but too skinny. Dash wonders if it's because of whatever freaky stuff goes on at that house with his freaky parents. His sister never seemed to have that issue, after all! But he really doesn't know anything about their home lives to know for sure.

Besides his sister was the total package with beauty and brains so, why is he more drawn to the wimp? That's not how it's supposed to go!

Is he really a wimp if he's just hiding what he can do and chooses not to use it?

Maybe if he got him healthier this feeling would go away? Worth a shot at least. He can last in a fight working on adrenaline but what about day to day? No wonder he hates gym!

At school, though, old habits threatened to resurface even as they felt wrong.

Slamming his hand right next to Fenton's head to block him in, he belatedly realized their positions looked a lot like that 'kabedone' (?) pose Paulina fantasizes about. Mainly with Phantom. He just stands there as his brain resets, face on fire, as Fenton just looked at him. A face journey going from surprised to fearful to annoyed and now to worry and concern.

"Uh, Dash? If this is supposed to be a 'congratulatory' beating or something to get back into the swing of things, can you get it over with before class? ... Ooor not? I get last night was wild but, like, maybe you need the nurse? I'm just... gonna... gooooo then?" the nerd rambled before he could fully process any of his words and then bailed when he didn't answer fast enough.

Lame

His concerned gaze and strained smile as Dash stood there caught him off guard.

Of course the loser with freaky parents acted like that. He must be making fun of me! No other reason he's making me feel like this! Gotta be a trick!

Trying to logic it out to himself or not, it's hard to deny that he shouldn't be concerned over him with how Dash has treated him. His undeserved kindness continues to shine though only now he can see it for what it is no matter how hard he tries to reason it to be something else. Something more acceptable to the people around him. Despite the hope starting to burn in him.

In class, he tosses a protein shake at Fenton's head and unsurprisingly, at least now anyway, he caught it.

"Fenton, if you do those crazy stunts all the time you might as well bulk up!"

Confused but seemingly thankful, he just nods before turning to the front as the teacher walked in. Both electing to ignore what happened earlier.

HA! He took it! My job is done.

If only he could convince his heart of that.

Is this how he's always felt or is it just starting? Did he start because the grown ups deemed it ok and never stopped him? Or was it just pressure from home? Or all of it? He's afraid to know the answer.

Paulina:

Dash has been acting weird. And not the fun kind of weird. First, he kabedon'ed Fenton and then he offered one of his protein shakes? Not just the generic kind, the good stuff he usually keeps to himself, too!

She decides to interrogate him during lunch with the rest of their group of friends. Still, she can sort of understand why even if her heart belongs to Phantom.

Even if Fenton did have a charm to his dorky side and can be attentive and kind. And brave.

He never shows that last quality most of the time anyway.

Didn't he not want credit out of fear of being forced to only have that life?

Like most boys in this school, he is clearly into her but as time went on he didn't let it control him.

So he has better self control than a lot of their peers, so what?

Nevermind that 'loser', her friend is off and it's time to get him to talk. Or at least distract him if he's not ready. It's usually the latter knowing him and the pressure he puts on himself.

On top of it being school hours.

"I can't get it out of my head," Dash confessed to her, "But, like, why do I find Fenton hot?"

She knows Fenton's friends act as his guard dogs sometimes for one reason or another. And Manson would sooner wear pink than let it happen for either of them.

All she could do was pat his arm as she turned away, not wanting to admit she feels the same.

Valerie:

Damn!

That bullshit from last night still pisses her off!

First that earbleedingly bad music gets blasted everywhere. Then, and then! It turns out to be an evil plan by the no good ghosts and not just some cruise! Phantom didn't even show like the fake he is! And, while she knows this is not the worst part is feels the most humiliating, a good chunk of their grade level invaded Fentonworks for a party without inviting Fenton or her. Her, she can understand, but he lives there. That's just cruel!

And yet, he still somehow got them to listen to his plan.

She is admittedly still impressed.

It was fun to fight with him. He even gave her a name to go by! She never cared about a vigilante name of her own before but it feels special.

Helps that he's cute, too.

Goth girl refuses to make a move and Valerie might if she doesn't.

Dash and Paulina, too, now if how they've been acting is anything to go by. They did use to be her friends, so she still remembers their tells and hints.

And saw the 'Kabedon Incedent'. If he hasn't been such a bully she'd feel worse for him.

Even the rest of the week, they have been falling all over themselves in their own ways over him. At least Danny will willingly talk to her and they are kind of friends even when his friends don't approve. She hopes that they can all be friends one day, despite how hostile they can be.

"Hey, Danny. Anything crazy happen recently?"

"Nah, just the crazy amount of homework."

"Mr. Lancer didn't assign much this week?"

"I have late assignments and keep having to redo them. Mostly from my parents inventions making a mess everywhere. Not to mention running from ghost attacks, my bag gets singed at times just for being my bag."

"Oof, I see what you mean there!"

The two share a laugh before splitting up.

He's always been fun to talk to. At least after I started giving him a chance. Was I just too stuck up and angry to see this side of him, before?

Sam:

Sam was feeling pretty good about herself!

Bringing back quality music to this town and kicking some ghost butt using those dumb records as scratching boards.

Seeing Danny in the lead like that, getting even the likes of Dash to listen, was really cool.

The fact that even Valerie showed up was very unexpected. But you know how it goes, plans never go unscathed upon contact with the enemy and all. Probably for the best, anyway, that Danny didn't bring out Phantom if she was already on her way.

At least they seem to be starting to see how cool he truly is.

Sam did not like that Danny hung out with Valerie given she tries to kill him when he's Phantom. And yes, that is the only reason!

Stop asking!

Doesn't help that 'pretty in pink' and 'Mr. Angry Issues' keep trying to butt in. She was busy being the ammo in the skies disrupting their broadcast! All she knows is that Danny went feral on Youngblood's ass and now the two seem to be tripping all over themselves around him. Being 'nice' like they actually care. She'll believe they've changed for the better when she sees it. Because right now it seems like they're only doing this to flirt with him! And just!

She's not possessive, she just doesn't want her friend to get hurt is all!

At least that is all she will let herself believe.

Stop denying you want him to look at you like that...

Tucker:

That was awesome!

They got to fight and even win against those pirate ghosts as just kids with Fenton gear!

Too bad Danny couldn't be Phantom at all, though. That was the main reason he had to deactivate the ghost shield. They made it work without Phantom anyway.

Valerie showing up was the least expected thing, though. He thought she had a night off or something? There were so many adults he's not sure if her dad was there in the crowd.

Guess ghost hunting means no time off after all. Kind of like us. Except she wants to get rid of my best friend permanently and doesn't even know it. My guy is a bit too forgiving sometimes.

His best bro has been getting so confused that everyone is nicer to him since the raid they did on the pirate ship. Like his bravery or badassery leading and fighting with them wasn't amazing! Like his feralness to switch to kindness and jokes right after wasn't charming or endearing.

Like its that hard to believe people like him more now that they see more of what he can do and who he is besides the son of the town loons who just so happened to be right about this one thing.

His plan didn't end in public destruction or excess harm. Unlike when his parents go after a ghost or when a ghost tosses him around and he gets blamed for it!

He can be very mad on his bro's behalf because Danny won't be. He's always simmering under the surface for the injustice his friend deals with. Tucker knows Sam is, too. She's just louder about it while he tends to silently judge more often than not.

But he can see why some of them have started to catch feelings for him, even if most are in denial about it. Sam included. Like the queen of denial, holy shit!

As always its up to the best friend to get everyone on the same page.

After all, he has always liked his best friend even if its slowly became platonic but romantic love for him, too. He just wants his bro happy and he's the only one who can see Danny can be with all of them, platonic or romantic. Now he just needs to get through to everyone else, too.

Here's to hoping I survive this intervention.

(+1) Danny:

Man, Danny feels so much better after taking his aggression on Youngblood and those other pirates! Too bad Ember got away, but hopefully that means she wont show back up again for a while.

He just hopes people won't treat him too differently.

Don't get him wrong. He's grateful they helped keep it a secret with how fast they all hid the evidence, but he knows that's partially to save their own skins from their parents and gain his parents' attention.

Getting to fight by Valerie's, or he supposed now it'd be 'Red's, side without even a hint of her trying to shoot him was even better than getting to be Phantom. Though, he only couldn't be Phantom because she showed up.

Good thing, too. Had it been anyone else they'd be dead. At least He's already half way there and has a transformation.

But she has been warming up to Phantom at least, he thinks.

Fighting by Dash's side as an equal is something he never could have guessed would be so rewarding. He hasn't even threatened to beat him up since then!

He thinks?

Dash keeps giving him these weird shakes and powders, talking about working his muscles in what he thinks is supposed to be encouragement. He's been bullied for so long by him that he really can't tell if it's a prank. Still does it anyway because Dash keeps looking at him and he is very unsure if refusing would gain his ire. Especially when he started doing this.

As time moves on, he becomes more settled into this new normal. The kids who were there had enough social sway that he was able to get his grades up with some good tutoring and some good extra credit. His attendance still hurt but they were able to explain it as his parents wanted him to partake in ghost hunting, too! Not the whole truth but a great cover as no one will want to talk to his parents to confirm. It's like the cool kids have been taking 'nice lessons'.

Dash has been helping him build muscle, so now his human form isn't so weak that he can barely catch his breath just after a jog around the block... Or for when his powers are blocked in some way. Those weird shake things have been helping, too. Something safe to eat when the meat at home usually reanimates and they still have the ecto-weenies guarding the fridge, consuming almost anything put in there from ectoplasmic samples to fresh groceries.

Paulina has been strangely nice as well. She hasn't even made weird comments about or hit on him as Phantom as much. She gave him some make up tips when ghosts fights got bad enough he had bruises in human form once turning back. And he's kind of into it! It's fun playing with make up in a way he never expected like this. They now have a nail night where they work on each other's nail art and do facials together. They do it once a month together now. Star shows up when she can but sometimes it's hard to make all three schedules work with how busy school is and all the constant ghost attacks. During their hang outs she sometimes even calls him cute! That's so nice of her. Such a good friend compliment! He can tell because shes not using her mean or fake nice voice while saying it!

He and Valerie continue to grow closer as she teaches him some of her martial arts and encourages him to blather about space. He hugged her out of sheer excitement that he has someone else he can gush over his favorite thing to. Things are so much better between them now, even with her dislike of Phantom. They even teamed up together during Pariah's invasion a little bit ago as their alter egos and she offered him the chance to use the mech suit his parents made as Fenton. Though, she did threaten Phantom to make sure 'Danny' came back safely. Well, both him as Phantom and as Fenton to be safe. He could only promise to do his best given everything.

He's so glad she gave him a chance and he her. He first started offering her companionship out of guilt, but he has grown to truly care about her. His friends don't seem as hostile towards her anymore and now they all even hang out sometimes.

Sometimes Dash and Paulina are even in their friendly hang outs as well, old hostilities are forgotten or put aside, and he is thriving.

Sam still is her usual, prickly self. But it seems like she realized something about herself and others lately or something. Shes been getting along better with the other girls and seems to have come to an understanding of sorts with them. At least he thinks so. Danny is not entirely, sure but at least she has other things to do than get into another meat and veggies debate with Tucker. He hates having to meditate those!

And where would he be without his best of best bros? Tucker has always been his rock. Their whole lives he has been his closest companion practically since he would walk. He's always so chill and smart and skilled with his hands and just. He is grateful he remains in his life.

Or maybe half life? Let's not think about that right now.

Danny thinks he's starting to catch feelings for all his friends, not fully platonic feelings. And not just the girls and not just the new or old. But all five of his closest friends! Is he supposed to choose? He has too much love in his heart and fondness for them all at this point that it would hurt to forsake any of them like that.

Do they even feel the same way?

Would it be worth it?

He has new friends and they are all getting along now.

So why should he ruin such a nice thing for himself?

He was worrying about it so much that it worried the others and he didn't even notice.

Tucker grabbed his hand, dragging him out of his head.

"Where are we going?"

"Your intervention this time, dude. We've all been getting worried. You're pulling away, man! We all have something to say to you together and you're not getting out of it. This could help, bro."

They made it to an empty classroom during lunch. Everyone he was having a crisis about all in one place!

How was this supposed to help?!

At his confused and increasingly distressed reaction, everyone decided to just lay it all out there. All of their feelings and that they don't want to lose him.

Danny starts to cry. He doesn't want to choose or lose any of them, either. He's so relieved and overwhelmed that he can't stop.

"You do have two hands, Danny," Tucker reassured him, "You can choose one of us or all if you want. Hell, it doesn't even have to be romantic! You absolute goofball!"

"Wha? That's a thing?! You can have more than one? Wouldn't that be cheating?"

His concern and confusion was sweet. He truly didn't know and didn't want to hurt any of them, after all.

This time, Paulina and Sam teamed up.

"Danny, you sweet, feral teenage boy," Sam begins, "it's not cheating if all parties are ok with it. It's all about consent and communication. We are the ones bringing it up."

"The goth is right, sweetie. We all talked about it before. And who knows, maybe some of us will work better as platonic partners, we can figure that out down the line. But we can give it a try if you want."

He gave a wet laugh and the sunniest smile in response.

"Yes! I'd love to try it with all of you. Hope we can make this work!"

This really is the happiest Danny has been! He was so worried he could lose a friend if he confessed and they all like him! And that having multiple partners is allowed if they know! And! And!

He rushes in to give them all a hug at the same time. A group hug with their special, feral little guy in the center. Like he is in their hearts.

Yeah, this did make me feel better. Tuck sure was right about that!

[khoirkid]

Whumptober Interview with Amethyst!

Before the glorious event that is whumptober, I reached out to Amethyst to ask a bit about her process and what to look forward to. (Everything is shared with her permission.) You can find her tumblr @amethystfairy1 so hop on over and give her some support for October!

Q. How does the writing style and process change for a month-long event verses just writing?

A. I guess with like, my long form stuff, I write with a ton more detail for the month long events, especially since I've done multiple now, I try to pick out a specific thing to center the fic around and use that as a through line, strip it down to it's bones, and just go with that... I try to be a bit more abstract and use extended metaphors for the month long events

Q. How do you find a balance between the TTSBC AU and the TT au?

A. I don't. [A]ctual answer... um...I don't (Interviewer: Well, you know you have a 50/50 split for whumptober, right?) I DO... WAIT... I DO???... THAT WAS A TOTAL ******* FLUKE... you give me far to much credit... no that was a total coincidence

Q. Are there any characters you feel like you’re drawn to for whump?

A. Tango and Scott. [I]ts just because they feel so bright and spunky... so breaking them in different ways is really interesting... And it's different from like, Grian Pearl and Jimmy because with the three of them their fannon characters have such a wide expanse of styles that slotting them into the broken avian mindset wasn't impossible...it was tricky at times for Grian to write him being so docile and obedient because pesky bird and all but even still, with Tango it doesn't fit, and so finding a way to make it fit is super interesting! Same with Scott!

Q. Is there anyone who isn't easy/fun to whump?

A. Everyone is fun to whump in some way... As far as not easy ...Pearl has been tricky, mainly because I write her so as being so solid in her emotions usually

Q. Is there anything you think will surprise readers for the coming whumptober?

A. I think there's a lot more plot relevance than people realize on the way. Several of the fics are... crucial to the plot going forward.

Q. Do these writing challenges help you come up with some of the plot or does the plot just fall into them?

A. Both! The plot has it's shapes and curves already, but doing these writing challenges sometimes helps me put pins in specific themes to tie in important plot points and drive the au forward.

Q. Finally, is there anything readers should watch for and what day are you most excited for?

A. Day 10 and Day 25 will probably be the most plot relevant of the bunch! As well as Day 31! I'm personally the most excited to for Day 10, as I think it's going to be super amazing seeing the response to that from everyone who's been so kind as to follow my AUs for so long!!!! (Interviewer: It's a well done major ouchie) I love thinking about that as I'm writing, especially since both TT and TTSBC have gotten so much love, imagining what folks are going to comment and enjoy about it!

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Danny changed after his accident in his parents' lab. He became colder and more dangerous. He had started to have some unhealthy habits: fighting ghosts and people, hiding everything from the people he loves, neglecting his friendships, and obsessing over the new girl who moved to Amity Park. Even stranger than that, she doesn't seem to mind.

Author: Somm

Note from submitter: LOOK. I lost precious hours of sleep staying up to read this fic. Some of the best identity reveal I've ever seen.

[amethystgoldenwind]

I wrote a sequel nobody asked for

months ago, I wrote an actually short fic about a petty argument between Leo and Donnie about the proper usage of a company-declared “Egg Pan”. It was based off a real debate my sister and I had.

Now we are BACK with a sequel. My sister and I did not debate, but we put our heads together for the concept. I wrote entirely solo, but she was definitely more involved with the creative process. The first was really an autobiography.

Anyways, I present:

The Egg Pan Part 2

and here is part 1 if you want to ‘catch up’. They’re just silly Disaster Twins Chaos scenes.

[amethystarachnid]

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

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 beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

���Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

[user-16s-world]

Title: ‘shattering’ a dimond

Yellow Diamond towered over them, arms crossed, her usual scowl firmly in place. Amethyst and Steven stood side by side, cracking their knuckles in anticipation.

“You two against me?” Yellow Diamond scoffed. “This won’t even be a warm-up.”

Steven grinned. “We’ll see about that!”

Amethyst smirked. “Yeah, don’t underestimate the little guys.”

Yellow Diamond didn’t wait—she lunged, shaking the ground with a stomp. Steven and Amethyst dodged in opposite directions, barely avoiding her massive hand as it swiped through the air.

“Whoa! Chill, Big Bird!” Amethyst taunted, flipping over Yellow Diamond’s arm and aiming a punch. It barely made her flinch.

Steven ricocheted off her boots with his shield, glancing at Amethyst. “We need a better plan.”

Amethyst’s grin turned downright devilish. “Got one.”

She shapeshifted into a small wisp of a form, darting between Yellow Diamond’s legs, tripping her just enough for Steven to leap onto her shoulder. Yellow Diamond swiped at him, but he dropped—right into the folds of her uniform.

Steven blinked. It was dark, warm, and—uh oh.

“Uh… Amethyst?”

“Yeah?” Her voice was right next to him.

“I think we fell into her clothes.”

Silence.

Then—

“…Oh, dude.” Amethyst snickered.

“What are you two DOING under there?” Yellow Diamond’s voice rumbled above them, annoyed.

Steven shifted slightly, brushing against something soft. Yellow Diamond jerked.

“Ggghh—!”

Steven’s eyes widened. Amethyst’s snickering turned downright evil.

“Wait a second…” she murmured.

Steven hesitated—then poked the spot again.

Yellow Diamond flinched.

“Oh-ho wow,” Amethyst whispered, her voice full of glee.

Yellow Diamond’s breath hitched. “D-Don’t you DARE—”

Too late.

Steven wiggled his fingers against her sides while Amethyst skittered her claws along her stomach. The reaction was immediate.

“HHH—! NGHHH—ST-STOP THAT AT ONCE!”

But they didn’t.

Yellow Diamond trembled, her body betraying her. Her muscles twitched violently, and then—

“Ack—hhrnnng—pffhh—!”

A barely-contained chuckle escaped.

“Oh, this is gold,” Amethyst cackled.

“Come on, Yellow,” Steven teased, grinning. “Just say you surrender, and we’ll stop.”

Yellow Diamond gritted her teeth. “I will do no such thi—AHHHH!!”

Amethyst had just found a particularly sensitive spot near her ribs. Yellow Diamond convulsed. Her knees buckled. Her arms flailed wildly, trying to grab them, but they were buried too deep in her uniform.

Then—her balance tipped.

With an earth-shaking THUD, Yellow Diamond collapsed onto the ground, sprawling onto her back, limbs twitching.

Steven and Amethyst popped their heads out from her uniform, victorious.

“HA! The big, bad Diamond—KO’d by tickles!” Amethyst cheered.

Yellow Diamond panted, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I—hhrnn—I hate you both.”

Steven grinned, wiggling his fingers near her ribs again. “That doesn’t sound like surrender~”

Yellow Diamond twitched. “I—I—FFFHHAAH!!”

She snorted.

That was it. Her composure was completely shattered. Her deep, rumbling voice melted into full-blown laughter.

“FINE! I SURRENDER!”

Steven and Amethyst whooped, high-fiving—until Yellow Diamond shot them a death glare.

“If either of you EVER speaks of this—”

“Ohhh?” Amethyst raised a brow, smirking. “Are you threatening us?”

Steven wiggled his fingers menacingly. “I think she’s threatening us.”

Yellow Diamond’s eyes widened. “Wait—NO—”

Too late. They pounced.

“GGGNNNHHH—HHRRAHH!!—YOU LITTLE GREMLINS!!”

Laughter exploded from her as they tickled with full force. Amethyst dug into her ribs while Steven attacked under her arms. Yellow Diamond thrashed, her deep, commanding voice reduced to helpless, uncontrollable giggles.

“PLEHEHEASE—ENOUGH!!”

Steven tapped his chin in mock thought. “Mmmm… I dunno. Do you promise no more threats?”

“YES! YES, I PROMISE—NOW GET OFF OF ME!”

They finally stopped, letting Yellow Diamond slump onto the ground, gasping. Her usually imposing figure was wrecked, her composure utterly destroyed.

She sat up, straightening her uniform with as much dignity as she could muster. “I… will never forgive you for this.”

Amethyst snickered. “Sure you won’t, Giggles.”

Steven grinned. “So… rematch?”

Yellow Diamond shot them a look.

Steven held up his hands. “Okay, okay! Maybe later.”

Even as she stood, her glare unwavering, there was a tiny twitch of a smirk on her lips.

Maybe these two weren’t entirely insufferable.

[wifetomanyfictionalmen]

I can’t find the master list thing I did so a new one IG:

My commissions are open! Here’s my Ko-Fi

For now I am only doing busts of OCs and canon characters. Doing full bodies took a toll on my mental health, though I might do waist up if you ask nicely /hj

𝐏𝐟𝐩 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠: @kabukiaku

NSFW asks now open! Now I’m officially 18 and have full control of my account.

Things I won’t do:

- incest

- r@pe

- sexual assault/harassment

- non con

- pedophilia

Ghost Band

- Primo

- Secondo

- Terzo

Cook!reader

Aftermath with Terzo

“Amore mio your as beautiful as the day I met you”

“See something you like amore?”

“Now and forever Amore”

“I’m always here amore”

- Copia / Frater Imperator

Copia with an s/o that’s practically a soundboard

Copia meets your friends

Dracopia

Copias chaos!ghoul

Copia Confessing to you

Copia X buff!reader

Antichrist Copia

“Stay with me”

First meeting copia (he gets aroused)

“I’ll never leave Amore”

“Choose to run away with me?”

Dracopia Angst

“SOS he’s in disguise”

“Love me, Love me, Love me, Love me”

Copia with a buff!reader

RHRN Copia angst

RHRN: Don’t you forget about your friend death

“Lucifer, whispering silently into your mind”

“Eyes on me Cara Mia” (18+ MDNI)

- most of the ghouls

- ocs

- Young Nihil

“No your never alone”

“Satanas your beautiful”

“Just wanna be with Chu in the moonlight”

- Mixed Headcanons

Touch starved s/o

Ghostbusters

- Ray Stantz

“Back off she’s a scientist and my girlfriend”

“It’s ok we can fight it one little bite at a time”

“Comfy”

“Wait me?”

- Peter Venkman

“He’s a slime ball”

- Egon Spengler (my beloved)

“It’s called a floor nap”

“What. Just. Happened”

“What’s Up Doc?”

“Spengs got a date before Venkman”

“Baby Fever”

“How can you just…stand there?”

“Your arts amazing”

“Your doing good, I’m proud”

“I promise your ok dove”

“Breath with me dove”

“Radio Static”

“Don’t you dare fucking leave me again”

“Peppered Kisses”

“You messed with the wrong scientist”

“I told you so..are you crying?”

- Winston

- Phoebe Spengler

- Old man Egon

“See you again”

- Old man Ray

- Old man Peter

- Old Man Winston

- Polyamory with the ghostbusters

“I promise you’ll be safe with us”

“We love you, and each other”

OCs:

- Sal Stantz (Ghostbusters)

- Janet Venkman (Ghostbusters)

- Violet Brett (Ghostbusters)

- Green Diamond (Steven Universe)

- Plum Diamond (Steven Universe)

- Queen Bee/Janet Carter (BATIM)

- Sei Emeritus/Papa V (Ghost Band OC)

- Sen Morrison (Later Emeritus) (Ghost Band OC)

- Ophelia (One Piece OC)

Baby Boom

- Steven Buchner (Harold Ramis’ character)

"Lets just focus on the dinner..and us"

Steven Universe

- Pearl

- Garent

- Amethyst

- White, Yellow and Blue Diamond

Baldurs Gate 3:

- Asterion

- Shadowheart

- Wyll

[ more to come as I play ]

One Piece:

I haven’t seen a lot of it but I’ll be writing as I watch.

Anime:

- Monkey D Luffy.

- Rorona Zoro

- Nami

- Usopp

- Sanji

- Buggy The Clown Pirate

- Smoker

- Ace

- Princess Vivi

- Chopper (in a platonic way)

- Dracule Mihawk

Live action:

- Dracule Mihawk

- Buggy The Clown

“I promise I’ll do better”

- Vinsmoke Sanji

“Kitty Claws”

- Shanks

- Zoro

- Nami

JJBA

Part 1:

- Jonathan Joestar

- Dio Brando

- Erina Pendleton

Part 2:

- Joseph Joestar

- Caesar Zepelli

Part 3:

- Jotaro Kujo

- Old Joseph Joestar

- Old Caesar Zepelli (AU where he’s alive)

- Noriaki Kakyoin

- Jean Pierre Polnareff

- Muhammad Avdol

Part 4:

- Josuke Higashikata

- Nijimura Okuyasu

- Rohan Kishibe

- Older Jotaro Kujo

- Older Noriaki Kakyoin (AU where he didn’t die)

Part 5:

None as of yet, as I haven’t watched it.

Part 6:

- Jolyne Kujo

- Old man Jotaro Kujo (again fuck canon he doesn’t die)

- old man Noriaki Kakyoin (fuck it he doesn’t die)

Live action Part 4:

- Jotaro Kujo

- Nijimaru Okuyasu

- Josuke Higashikata

- Koichi Hirose

Doki Doki Precure:

- Mana Aida/Cure Heart

- Aguri Madoka/Cure Ace

- Rikka Hishikawa/Cure Diamond

- Makoto Kenzaki/Cure Sword

- Alice Yotsuba/Cure Rosetta

TMNT:

2012:

Leonardo

Donatello

Raphael

Michelangelo

Splinter/Hamato Yoshi

Shredder/Oroku Saki

Rise

Leonardo

Donatello

Michelangelo

Raphael

April O’Neil

Casey Jones

Casey Jones JR.

Bayverse Movies

Leonardo

Donatello

Raphael

Michelangelo

Splinter

Shredder/Oroku Saki

Casey Jones

That’s it..

[taravangians-storming-balls]

I wish pattern had a mouth I feel like he'd love eating

[angel-gidget]

Wonder Comics YJ Thoughts

My re-read of Wonder Comics YJ reminded me how much I've been meaning to play in that sandbox. I remember when it was coming out and how much people complained about it, and I was sad bc I thought it would be so EASY to fix those flaws with a lil' fanfic.

Which brings me to the fact that I wanna get back into writing fic. I've missed it. Why not start with this lil' era that caters to so many things I like anyway? I've got a buch of bunnies/concepts I wanna explore...

Kinda obsessed with Kon's storyline. I dig that he was trapped there, got fake-married, helped raise a baby for a while, and skipped out on the Crisis group memory-wipe as a result. I'm gonna go ahead and read some of his storylines that take place after the YJ series ended, bc I also love what all that whackness did do his relationship with the super-fam.

Amethyst on the team. I should be exploring this. Full stop. Gen, shipping, world-building.... I can go in so many directions with my fave princess and fave team actually being put together, and I should.

Tim's memory reboot a la Zatanna. This was really a cool idea. I like that the core four all have reason to remember their time with each other, even if OG YJ adventures have technically been erased from timeline. Kon was protected by the Gemworld. Bart by his speedster shenanigans. Tim got help from Z, and Cassie... well, I don't think we quite covered why Cassie remembers...

Which means I could do a story about what Cassie remembers and why. Probably involving some Greek god bs. Could be angsty. Could be fun.

That also begs the question of HOW MUCH DO OTHER FORMER MEMBERS REMEMBER? Cissie. Greta. Anita. Cissie shows up toward the end of Wonder Comics YJ, and there has to be some complexity there. I head about her being threatened to return to the cape by Amanda Whaler, and I've considered toying with it.

Then there's the new kids on the block. I admit I don't have a lot of ideas for Kid Lantern and Jinny Hex, but I've got a couple. And I really like the idea of incorporating Naomi into the team. I enjoyed S1 of her trade. I would probably stop there at growing the roster, tho. The big teamup at the end of the book with all the new young heroes was a bit... much.

How much do the Titans remember? The core four were pretty buddy-buddy with Starfire, Cyborg, Beast Boy, and Raven in their post-YJ Titan days. Do those relationships still hold water? Or not? Hmmm.