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whateverloomis · 1 month ago

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Dilf!Billy Loomis who kidnaps the sweet lil reader that works at the local Spirit Halloween?

I've always wondered how Billy would kidnap someone because he 100% would lmao. This is basically a drabble, it's all I've been able to put out lately. Anyways, here it is! Hope y'all enjoy babes 🫶🏼

Warnings: FEM READER, kidnapping (honestly it was a willing situation but the intention was there lmao,) spiked drink, alcohol consumption, flirting, fingering, stranger danger (lol,) Stu Macher feature, unedited

Finally, your favorite season has arrived and you couldn't be happier. Fall. Halloween. Gloomy nights and a full moon. Ghost stories and pumpkin spice in the air.

It also means night shifts at Spirit Halloween. It isn't exactly the funnest job, but being surrounded by all kinds of decorations and costumes is worth doing it.

Tonight the store isn't as full as it usually is and you're almost grateful. The week has been chaotic so far and you definitely need a slow day, especially since you're at the register.

A few people came in and browsed the costumes but nobody bought anything, except for one. A man.

He's wearing a white tee with an oversized navy blue jacket along with light wash jeans. As you scan his body with your eyes you land on his black doc marten boots. It looks like they've been used quite a bit but they're still in great shape. You fixate your gaze a little too long on them, boots are one of your weaknesses and the man wearing them sure make them look extra hot. He must be in his 50s, but fuck does he look delicious. It's odd for you to find older men attractive but when it happen you're practically weak at the knees.

You continue looking at him as you suck on a lollipop you stole from a random aisle. With the view of the attractive man studying and touching the Halloween masks your brain got creative, and you definitely wouldn't mind having his cock in your mouth instead. Gosh, what a slut. Thinking that way about a complete stranger? Who does that?

It doesn't stop you from entertaining yourself with the thought as you feel the sugary bulb against your tongue.

"Do you have another one of these available?" the man asks and snaps you back to reality. He's holding a ghost face mask and you can't help but imagine him wearing the damn thing.

You nod and search for another mask from the pile of items people decide not to buy last minute, and luckily you find another one.

After handing it to him, you pull the lollipop out of your mouth, "Anything else I can help with?"

You noticed how he looked at your lips when you removed the candy from your mouth and smirked, "Mm, no, I have everything," he responded and you instantly got flustered.

"So, are you new in town? I haven't seen you around before," he asks, making small talk.

"Yes, I moved here a few months ago. It's pretty nice, I didn't think I'd like Woodsboro much..." you trailed off and Billy looked at you with a questioning look,

"Is it that boring here?" he continued and you laugh shily, "No, I just don't really have friends to hang out with..." you say and the man frowns.

"Well, I can show you around if you'd like. I know a nice deck with a mini bar down by the Woodsboro lake. It's really nice at night when there's a clear sky." he said and you mentally curse yourself for being tempted to go hang out with him. A stranger. But you couldn't help it, it's been a while since you hung out with someone and this guy is incredibly hot.

Your mind is racing but before you reason with yourself, you accept his invite... Billy Loomis' invite.

•

After a brief walk and a few drinks at the mini bar you were already letting loose and getting flirty with Billy.

"Wait, so he fell in the water with his suit on?" you asked, giggling at Billy's story of Stu falling into the hotel pool where their prom was hosted in '96. You were sitting rather close to the man, your thigh touching his while you faced each other.

"He really did, the idiot" he responded and took a swing of his beer. "We should all hang out sometime, I'm sure he'd like you." Billy continued and you blushed at his words. "Really? You think so?" you asked, shyness taking over. "Of course, anyone would like a cutie like you," he said, no shame in being straightforward.

You bit your lip and let out a breathy laugh. "I've never thought that way about myself..."

"Well, you should, I mean look at you" he continued and placed his hand on your thigh, running it up your skin slowly until it rested right under the hem of your short dress.

Silence fell upon you in an instant and the tension that was building went up a notch. Naturally, both of you leaned in and gave each other a few lingering kisses.

Billy pulled back and hissed, looking down at his hand on your thigh, squeezing slightly. "Bars about to close... You wanna go back to my place?" he asked and you nodded slowly, following him to his car.

Once you reached the vehicle Billy leaned against the hood and pulled you towards him by your hips. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck and continued kissing and it quickly got heated.

You might be a shy person, but when it comes to getting what you want? You don't hesitate one but, and at that moment you wanted him. This stranger that you met a few days ago.

It's reckless but you didn't care. The way that man was using his tongue to tease your lips and mouth was incredible and you could've stayed there all night but you needed more.

"Mm, let's go" you broke the kiss. Billy smirked and opened the door for you, looking at your ass when you walked past him to get in the car.

•

You found yourself straddling Billy's lap on the couch of his living room. The cabin he owns is relatively small but extremely cozy and charming in every way, just like him.

The sound of your soft moans mix with the crackling of the fire place. The make out session had been going on for a while and you were already grinding against his growing length. He feels big, and you can't wait to see what he's hiding in his pants.

Billy was careful with what he chose to do, he didn't want to scare you away after all, so he slowly slipped his hands under your dress and pulled it up and over your ass. You moved your hips quicker in response to his actions and he exhaled at the feeling of your pussy against his clothed cock.

He squeezed your ass and dug his fingers in your flesh before sneaking one of his hands between your legs. He rubbed your clit over your underwear, encouraging you to grind against them, and that you did. Slowly.

"Fuck... You soaked through these." Billy said while snapping the band of your underwear with his free hand, "I've barely touched you baby..." he continued and nipped your neck.

"Mm, please..." you said and grab his hand. "Need to feel..." you continued while you pulled your underwear to the side, moving his fingers inside your throbbing cunt.

"Fuck..." Billy moaned and finger fucked you from below imagining his cock buried inside you.

After a while his impatience took over and he stood up. You wrapped your legs around his torso along with your arms around his neck and into his room you went...

•

After Gods know how much time of fucking and playing with each other Billy offered you a drink, which you gladly accepted. After a few sips you went to the bathroom to clean up, and while you were away he took the opportunity to spike your drink. Of course he had alternate motives, and you were an easy target. Too easy.

Once you came back and took a few more sips of that drink you never thought you'd end up passing out... much less end up with your hands tied behind your back on a chair in the middle of a living room. A room that was comforting a few hours prior, but there you were. Confused out of your mind.

"Look who's up" you heard Billy whisper. His hand softly brushed against your cheek.

"Where... What?" you said while moving your arms around, feeling the restraints.

"Shh sh sh, we're at my place, remember?" Billy said softly. Why was he being so gentle in a situation like this? You had no clue, and it made the situation all the more confusing and frightening.

"What's goin- What the fuck?!" You lost it.

"Hm... Well, you see... It's a very interesting story, really. I used to study with your aunty Prescott."

No way.

"And I tried to kill her, but the bitch got away from me, so I thought... Hm, how can I get her attention again?"

"Billy... Don't" You started.

"Why not kidnap her sweet nephew. The one she loves like a daughter..."

"Billy..."

"Why not use these? Terrorize the town again... Terrorize Sidney again." He continued, holding the ghostface masks up. The ones you sold him a few days ago.

But why two?

"Am I late?" You heard another voice behind you. Turning around was useless so you closed your eyes hoping it was all a dream.

"Nah, I'm just getting started" Billy replied and the other man came to view. He handed Billy a knife and took his mask afterwards.

"YN, meet Stu." Billy said and Stu waved as if this were a normal everyday interaction.

"You. You're the ghostface killers..." you put it together quickly, all the memories of Sid warning you about moving to that damn town. How she wouldn't trust the silence.

She was right.

#ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #billy loomis smut #ghostfacesmut #billy loomis x reader #scream (1996)#billy loomis x you #stu macher smut #stu macher x billy loomis #stu matcher x reader

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axolotl4days · 2 months ago

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Batman Dead Daughter AU part 2

I'm so sorry this took so long, I ment to post this like the day after the first one but I kept getting distracted and didn't have time to write it TwT

Anyways-

We are starting off with Damian after patrol and approaching Bruce

I also realized how my writing is a lot closer to script in the last one, especially with the dialog, and it's something I'll work on

Without further a due: Angst :D

Damian POV:

'This is really unordinary, first a new student in the middle of the year, who looks... similar to Father, but now she's hiding under a bridge? What is going on with that girl. Somethings not right, it's clear there's something she's not telling me, I should be angry, she could be some sort of threat. So why am i not? This isn't anger its.. something else. What even is this feeling? I feel like I know her. One things for certain, she needs help. Maybe I should speak to Father about this. He does have a habit of adopting children.' Damian thinks to himself as he removes his vigilante gear, he decides to approach Bruce and bring up his concerns

"Father." Damian says, commanding his attention away from the computer

"Damian. Is something wrong?" Bruce asks

"I'm not sure, it's about my new friend" Damian says

"Ah yes.... y/n correct?" Bruce asks but his voice waivers as he says her name

"Correct, father. I believe y/n may be in trouble of some kind. As you know she joined the school at an odd time, which is weird enough as it is. However, during patrol, I found her under a bridge. She claimed that she couldn't go home but wouldn't say why. And to make matters even more confusing, she didn't seem to know who I was." Damian explains

"What do you mean? Like she didn't know what a vigilante was? It's possible if she's new to Gotham, unlikely but possible." Bruce says

"No, she wasn't suprised, or confused, she acted as if meeting a vigilante were normal, but she didn't know my name, she seemed to know about vigilantes, but didn't know which one I was." He explained while gesturing to the cases of costumes throughout the years. "She also didn't have anything with her. When I found her, she only had her backpack with school supplies and a few clothes. No blankets or food items, nor any personal belongings. It seems like she hasn't been here for very long, but she's been attending school for a few weeks now." Damian says

Bruce pauses for a moment "That's... odd. Even if someone had recently become homeless, they would have more than just school supplies, especially if they've been living outside." Bruce says mostly to himself before turning back to his son "What are you thinking Damian?" Bruce asks

Damian remains silent for a while before responding, "With your permission, Father, I would like to invite her over after school tomorrow. Perhaps we could learn more then. I heard it's supposed to rain tomorrow as well, and I'd feel bad knowing my friend was out there getting sick." Damian states and waits for a response

"I see. Very well then, you may invite her over, I'll inform Alfred so he will make extra for dinner." Bruce says, calling Alfred in. "In the meantime, you need to turn in for the night, I'll speak with Alfred about tomorrow"

"Very well, goodnight father." Damian says, walking past Alfred

Bruce POV:

"Master Bruce? Are you alright?" Alfred asks having heard the conversation

Bruce doesn't speak for a moment, but eventually, he turns to face the loyal butler

"Alfred I... I don't want to get my hopes up. I know that it's probably just a coincidence, but... when you pick the two of them up tomorrow, I want you to call me immediately and let me know if it... if it's possible.. if it could be -"

"I will Master Bruce. I promise that the moment I am able to confirm, I will let you know." Alfred says

"Thank you Alfred." Bruce says, as he unlocks one of the drawers in his desk, and he pulls own a dusty photo and cleans it, the photo being a photo of him, and his long lost daughter smiling eating icecream

"I know it's... highly unlikely, but would you like me to prepare her favorite? Even if it's not her, I know that you enjoy the meal as well, and it's been awhile, it'd be nice to relive the good memories." Alfred suggests

"That... that would be nice Alfred, thank you." Bruce says before looking at the photo again and putting it away

The next day:

Damian was right, it is raining and by the looks of it, it'll be raining all day, the day begins the same as normal with Damian getting prepared for school, and packing a larger umbrella with him before heading down to breakfast where he finds two of his older brothers

Damian POV:

"Grayson, Drake" Damian greets them

"Hey kid, you got everything you need? It's raining cats and dogs out there" Dick says causing Damian to roll his eyes

"I'm well aware Grayson, I already knew this would happen so I prepared accordingly, even grabbing a larger umbrella to fit us" Damian replies

"Us? Who's us? We aren't going out today" Tim asks

"Us, as in me and my friend, I'm bringing her here after school today. I've already informed Father and Alfred. You two better not freak her out." Damian warns

"Woah, you're bringing a friend home? That's new" Dick says

"You have friends? Like. Real friends? From school?" Tim laughs

"Yes I have friends. What's with the laughter. And whats real friends supposed to mean" Damian snaps

"Well, considering your always calling people peasants it's surprising, not to mention it's someone who's not like us." Tim replies as if it's common knowledge

"What is that supposed to mean. Y/n doesn't have to be like us. We're friends, and that's that. Honestly, we're practically siblings. That's what the people at school say." Damian says. "Oh, and for your information, she may be in a tough situation right now. I don't yet know the details, but something is up, so when she gets here, you guys better not say anything suspicious, got it?" Damian basically orders before he walks away to head to school.

"Y/n? Huh..." Dick mutters to himself

"What is it? You know this person?" Tim asks

"No no it's just... I swear I've heard that name before." Dick says almost serious

At school, y/n pov:

'Okay, y/n, there's no need to panic just yet. No one's said anything, so he didn't tell anyone. What do I say if he brings it up? It happened while in the suit, so he probably won't approach it as himself, but what if he does? Or if he asks me about home? What do I do if he asks me about my parents? I need to think of a plan. Dad always has plans, but what do I even do? I can't just go up to the manor and explain who I am. It's been..' y/n pauses to do math but fails 'it's been an unknown amount of years, it's possible more things have changed than what I can tell. It's possible they won't even remember me, or they could think I was some sort of clone like in a Sci fi movie. I don't know anything for certain yet, so I have to play it safe... even if it hurts'

Y/n braces herself, thoughts of things that could go wrong still swirling about in her mind, but she can't think about that now, she has classes to attend.

Damian arrives to class and greets her like normal, she holds back her sigh of relief knowing that it's probably because it was 'Robin' that she talked to last night, she's seen her dad shift between personas before and if he learned from him then he won't mention a thing about what happened.

The two start talking about homework, which y/n suddenly realizes she didn't do, but before she can worry about it, the teacher speaks up

"Good morning class, today's going to be a bit different as we're starting a new project and for this you'll need to work in pairs, so before anything, everyone needs to go around and get into pairs and then when that's done I'll start handing out information on the project and explain what it is."

"Y/n? Would you like to work on this project together?" Damian asks

"Sure, we work together on some stuff already so this should be a peice of cake" y/n replies

"Perfect, we can work on it at my place after school as well, speaking of which, would you like to come over today? It's Friday, and I was thinking we could have a uh... sleepover. There's lots of stuff we could do, and it'll be easier to find time for the project that way and you could stay for the whole weekend" Damian asks, hoping to convince his friend without sounding weird. But he can't stand the idea of her being outside all weekend, especially with Gothams weather.

"Oh! Sure I would love to come over for a sleep over it sounds like a lotta fun!" Y/n replies, trying to hold back her excitement 'oh my god this works out perfectly. Now I can see what's changed, maybe I can talk to dad, I hope he's okay, this'll let me find out if he remembers me or not. I'll finally have Alfred's cooking again!' Y/n thinks to herself

"Good good, I'll have our bulter Pennyworth pick us up straight after school. We have a library in the manor so we don't need to use the schools library, oh and just a warning, my brothers are probably going to be at the manor as well, just ignore them, they're fools." Damian says

'There's more of them?!' Y/n thinks to herself, trying to hide her shock, but Damian notices anyways but he doesn't say anything about it.

"Alright class, now that everyone is partnered up I'll explain the project, this one will take a few weeks so listen up" the teacher says, gathering everyone's attention and explains the project

They spend the rest of class working on the project, writing notes, and during breaks they talk about what they're going to do at the manor, Damian discovers y/n knows even less movies than he does so they decide they could have a movie marathon when they first get there.

Before they know it, school is over and it's time to head out. Just as Damian said, Alfred comes to pick them up right after school, and parks somewhere where the rain isn't as intense.

"Hello Pennyworth, this is Y/n." Damian introduces the two noticing the pale look on Alfred's face just like he had when he first mentioned Y/n

"Hello, thank you for picking us up Alfred!" Y/n says, happy to see Alfred again after all this time, though a bit shocked to see how white his hair has gotten, but otherwise he looks the same. She too sees the pale in his face, but is still too nervous to say anything.

"Of course miss Y/n" He says, while getting into the car "If you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make while we head to the manor, so I'll put the sound dividers up, in the mean time the two of you can pick what music you wish to listen to during the drive" Alfred says

"Alright, here y/n, we can listen to almost any song with this" Damian says

As the two begin to look through the music, Alfred sinks into the sea as he processes what he's seen. Could it really be Y/n?

Alfred pov:

He takes a moment to compose himself, he has a cold sweat, but he calms himself and calls Bruce

The phone feels like it rings forever before Bruce answers

"Hello Alfred, any news?" Bruce asks, for he was waiting for this call ever since Alfred left

"It's her Master Bruce. It has to be. She looks exactly the same as she did before. She sounds the same, too, I froze for a moment, but neither of them addressed it." Alfred says

"Are you sure? Did she say anything?" Bruce asks

"She didn't say much. However, when Damian introduced us, he referred to me as Pennyworth as he always does, yet Y/n referred to me as Alfred, regardless. Her eyes were unmistakable, even if it were someone who looked like her, those eyes, I would never forget them." Alfred says

"I see. Come get me once you arrive at the manor, we need to discuss how were going to go about this, see what she knows and confirm everything for sure." Bruce replies

"Of course Master Bruce, we'll be their shortly" Alfred informs him

The drive passes quickly and they arrive at the manor, quickly getting in as the rain pours harder and harder. Alfred takes their umbrellas and coats

"Alright, I have some business to attend to, but I shall make dinner shortly. Feel free to do whatever you wish in the meantime, but stick together, wouldn't want anyone to get lost." Alfred says side eyeing Y/n

"No need to worry, Pennyworth. I've memorized the layout of the manor. We will be heading to the theater first, you may find us there when dinner is ready." Damian states

"Wow, you weren't kidding, you actually brought a friend," two voices call out, causing Damian to scowl

"Grayson, Drake." Damian turns to the approaching duo."Y/n, these are my older brothers and nuecences. Who have apparently decided to bother us." Damian says

"Awe, don't be like that, Dames. we just wanna meet our baby brothers new... friend, " Dick says, meeting Y/n's gaze "Anyways- the names Dick Grayson, pleasure to meet you" he introduces himself before elbowing the boy next to him to stop his stareing

"Ow- oh uh, I'm Tim Drake. Sorry about Dick, it's not every day we meet a friend of the demons. Are you guys going to be working on something?" Tim asks

"Oh well, technically, we have a school project, but we have plenty of time to work on it, so we were going to have a um, 'movie marathon'" Y/n replies, unsure of how to react

"Yes, we plan to binge some movies that neither of us have seen before, I also wrote a list of other activities we could do, including but not limited to, various board games" Damian replies

"Wow, sounds like fun, maybe we'll pop in for a movie or two later on" Dick teases

"Grayson-" Damian hisses before being interupted

"Ahem, boys play nice, Master Dick and Master Tim, dinner will be ready in a few hours, I have some matters to attend to with Master Bruce, so please behave yourselves." Alfred states

"Alright, alright, we'll let the two of you go have fun, but don't think we won't drop by for some family board games." Dick says

Groaning, Damian leads Y/n towards the theater while Alfred heads to Bruce's office, leaving Dick and Tim alone

"...... So I'm not the only one who noticed she looks exactly like Bruce, right?" Dick asks

"No, no, you were not. How is this even possible she looks like she's Damian's age, so it's not like Bruce had another affair? But she looks so much like him it's kind of creepy, it could be another clone situation." Tim replies

"Makes Damians little comment about them being siblings earlier seem like it may not have been a joke" Dick says

"He didn't say anything about it, though. You'd think he'd have made all sorts of blood siblings comments by now." Tim says

"Yeah..." Dick says absentmindedly

"You good Dick?? You look like your thinking which is never a good thing" Tim jokes

"Ha ha, very funny. I'm fine. I was just. I feel like I've heard the name Y/n before but can't remember where, " Dick explains, and the two of them stand there for a moment before deciding to actually join movie night

With Alfred:

"Master Bruce?" Alfred approaches the office and lets himself in, noticing the papers all over the place, recognizing all of them

"Is it really possible? Even if it is her, how hasn't she grown up? She'd have been older than Dick by now. And if it is her, why didn't she come back? Why did it take until Damian invited her over for her to come here? Are we sure she even remembers us? What if it's some sick joke? What if some villain made a clone of her and sent her here to toy with me? What if -"

Before he could spiral any further, Alfred cuts him off

"Master Bruce. Calm down. I'm aware of how... odd this situation is, and there is much to discuss. However, I feel it would be best for you to speak to her yourself. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this. She is her father's daughter, I'm sure she'll explain everything." Alfred says

"And what if she can't? What if it isn't really her and just a huge coincidence? What then? We would be back at Square one not knowing what happened to her or where to find her or-"

"You're doing it again Master Bruce. Please, go talk to her" Alfred says

"Alfred I- I don't know if I can. If I can face her. It's been so long I.." Bruce, finally looking away from his papers to look up at his butler

"It'll be okay. I'll be there with you as well. You... you don't have to see her just yet. You could wait for then to finish with a few of their movies and settle in before approaching. It'll give you some time to brace yourself as well." Alfred suggests

"That.. sounds like a plan Alfred, thank you." Bruce says

"Of course Master Bruce. I'll go ahead and start dinner now, it shouldnt take too long, so I'll fetch you when it's done, and we can go talk to her. And then have dinner afterward," Alfred replies

"Alright Alfred." Bruce says

After some time passes, the kids have watched around two and a half movies, they're in the middle of third when they hear footsteps approaching

Y/n Pov:

Y/n slightly tenses up. She knows those footsteps, even through the sound of the movie, she can hear them. Her father always taught her to notice the little things like that. The boys notice but don't think much of it until

"Ah, there you all are, Alfred told me you guys would be in here," Bruce's voice calls out as he walks over the greet the others, he looks more tense than usual, but he has been for the past few days it's probably case related the boys think

"Hello father, this is my friend y/n" Damian turns to look at Bruce who after making his way over to everyone finally lays his eyes on y/n, and he freezes

Dick and Tim don't say anything, both looking back and forth between Bruce and Y/n wide eyes, there is a long awkward silence before Damian decides to speak up

"Alright, what is with everyone today! I swear you have all been acting strange. It's not even that rare for me to have friends. If I knew you'd all act like this, I would've thought twice. Even you father, I can't believe it -" Damian starts to scold, but Y/n cuts him off

"It's okay, Damian, cut him some slack, it's not every day a dad sees his dead daughter again" Y/n says while putting a hand on Damians shoulder with wet eyes

"It really is you, Y/n..." Bruce says, tears forming in his eyes

"Hey, Dad... I'm back, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, and I know you probably have a lot of questions, but -" Before y/n can continue, Bruce pulls her into a hug, and the two let out their tears

The others can only stand there and watch as the two cry and apologize to another

"So, I'm all for new family members but what the hell is happening right now can anyone explain" Dick asks

"I agree with Grayson for once, what is going on?" Damian adds

"It's... a long story that we can discuss later. First things first." Bruce stands up but doesn't let go of Y/n almost like he's worried if he let's her go she'll disappear again."Right now, all that matters is that it's time for dinner. Alfred made your favorite Y/n, we weren't sure if it was really you but we wanted to hope it was." Bruce says and they all head to the dining room, still all in shock

They sit at the dinner table and-

"Wow Bruce, another kid? You seriously have a problem." A voice calls out causing the others to look at him and try to signal that it's not the time to say stuff like that

"Hello Jason, it's good to see you too. And for your information, this is Y/n, and technically, she was my first kid, " Bruce says. "Are you here for dinner?"

"Yeah, I wanted some of Alfred's cooking- hold on. What do you mean she's your first kid she's like the same age as the demon spawn??" Jason acts

"Oh that's because I was dead for- ..... uh dad how long was I dead for? I didn't do the math" Y/n says

"It's been... 20 years now" Bruce says hesitantly and watches the realization set in in everyone's eyes

"Oh... wow... that's a lot longer than I thought... but yeah, I've been dead for a while. I only came back to life earlier this month... Also, dad, I know we'll do questions later, but I don't actually know how I came back to life, I was completely alone when I woke up, and I wasn't where I died." Y/n tells him

"I see. That's alright, my dear, we can worry about that later, Damian told me about where you were staying after he found you during patrol, so I'm sure you're hungry" Bruce says

"Father! "Bruce!" The boys yell

"What?" He turns around confused

"Pft wow bruce" Jason laughs only causing Bruce to look even more confused

"Dad I think they're talking about the fact you mentioned patrol" Y/n tells her father while giggling

"Oh, guys, y/n already knows. Well, she knew about me and knowing my daughter she put two and two together when she saw Damian as Robin" Bruce explains

"Yeah, the moment I heard about there being more vigilantes and that apparently dad had more kids, I figured he started a family business, speaking of which dad how many kids did you have after me??? Did you lean into the 'Brucie' persona that much?" Y/n asks, nudging her father

"Okay, in my defense, most of them are adopted. You and Damian are my only biological children, and technically.... these aren't the only ones there's a few more, but they're out right now. Technically Dick and Jason don't live here anymore. They come here for Alfred's cooking most of the time, " Bruce says and almost as if on que y/n's stomach growls, "Speaking of which, it sounds like it's time to eat."

They finally settle at the dinner table, and Alfred brings out the food, y/n practically drools at the smell alone

They eat, and none of them say anything, but they all notice y/n crying while eating the food, and they wonder what she's been through in the month since she woke up before coming here. Bruce and Alfred especially make mental notes to do a health check-up and get her back onto a proper and healthy diet once she's settled back in. Alfred has many mixed feelings seeing y/n eat. She eats much faster than she used to. Jason notices this also and knows what it's like trying to find food on your own as a kid. He not so subtly gives her some of his food.

After dinner and desert (Alfred was so relieved to hear it really was her, he made cookies to celebrate)

Y/n starts to look really tired

"Are you alright sweetheart?" Bruce asks

"I'm okay, dad, just stuffed. It's been a while since I've eaten that much. I'm probably going to have a food coma - that was a joke. I'm not actually going to fall into a coma. " She quickly adds, knowing how much her dad overthinking things

"Well, food coma or not, it's been a long day, I think it's time for you to head to bed." Bruce says, standing up

"Aw, dad already? We haven't even gotten to talk, and I know you have questions, and I do too, and" Y/n starts

"Sweetheart." Bruce says firmly but warm as he crouches down to meet his daughters eyes. "You're right. There are many questions, but those questions can wait. You need your rest. As much as I want to know everything, I want to make sure you're okay first. We can talk in the morning, and the day after, and so on. Your home now." Bruce says

"Yeah... I'm home now." Y/n says, as she starts to cry again and Bruce gently scoops her up in his arms

"It's okay, sweetheart." He says cooing

"I missed you so much, dad." y/n cries

"I missed you too." Bruce says, "Let's get you to bed, I'm sure you've missed your room too. " He starts to walk through the halls while the others are still sitting at the table stunned

"You still have my room?" Y/n asks as Bruce carries her

"What kind of question is that? Of course I still have your room." Bruce replies

"Well... it's been so long, and you probably knew I was dead so I figured-"

"I never accepted you were dead." Bruce cuts her off. "I always hoped I would find you one day. Even if you were a grown adult, I kept your room the same." Bruce says

"Dad..." Y/n says, knowing that this whole time, her father has been looking for a daughter that he would never find "I... I *was* dead... I'm sorry-"

"Don't you dare apologize. Your only a kid it isn't your fault. Whatever happened wasn't your fault. We can talk about it more in the morning. But for now.." Bruce takes out his keys and unlocks the door to Y/n's room and tucks her in. She yawns and Bruce starts to get up but Y/n grabs him

"Dad... could you stay with me until I fall asleep? I know you have work to do and that those guys are probably waiting but-" y/n pauses

"Of course I will. Just rest now my dear." Bruce says and it's not long before y/n is out like a light

Bruce after a few more minutes finally gets up, he plugs in a nightlight and makes his way back to the dining room where he is then greeted by the boys and he sighs

"Boys."

"Bruce" "Father

"Alright. I suppose it's time to explain." Bruce starts as he pulls out a chair "Where do I even begin?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaaaaand another cliffhanger! Sorry not sorry but I've been working on and off on this post for weeks I think. Theres still a good bit of story left (aka the explanations) I don't currently have much planned afterwards but I feel like when I write the next part depending on how I write it this may become a mini series (I say mini because again, I don't have much planned this started out as a random concept in my head) if i do write more after the explanations I'd definitely lean even more into the yandere aspects (I attempted to start planting some seeds of it with the batfam getting more concerned and protective, and the next part will definitely tip them over the edge :) hehe )

I'm sorry if the characters are well, out of character but, *points to the fact I'm new to this fandom and new to writing fanfiction in general*

Also I'm sorry there's no cass, duke, barb, or steph

I don't know much about them yet, I know who they are but not really how they act or solid personality traits so I don't know how to write them yet, but I'll probably allude to them or say that the others explain the situation to them or smth

Thanks for being patient with me for this part lol

#batfam x reader #batman #damian wayne #dick grayson #platonic batfam #tim drake #yandere batfam #batfam #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #bruce wayne #good dad bruce wayne #protect alfred #batfam x batsis #Batman Dead Daughter Au #is it even an au??? its an original story not an alternate one but oh well it sounds better that way lol

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maxwellatoms · 10 months ago

Note

Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

Okey dokey.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.

The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.

Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.

A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.

I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.

Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.

Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

It's the only way to get anything done, currently.

The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".

It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.

There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.

Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)

The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.

Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.

Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.

I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.

Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?

You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.

To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.

I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.

Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.

I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.

The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.

The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.

---

So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.

Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.

#maxwell atoms #animation industry #grim reaper

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amethystfairy1 · 3 months ago

Text

Regarding the Iskall Situation...

I've received a lot of asks wondering about what my take is on it, and since I'd prefer to have it all taken care of in one swoop so we don't have to continue to focus on it, here's my stance on the subject.

A: Yes, I have seen the credible evidence from Kasszki, I read the doc they posted, and I feel awful for them and the other victims that they had to deal with this. I'm glad to hear that the Hermits and others were supportive of them and helped them handle this situation in as professional a manner as possible. I have also seen the credible information from False that Stress left for her own separate reasons.

B: I strongly denounce Iskall's behavior, and I have absolutely zero intention of supporting him as a creator ever again.

C: Please don't pester the creators or the victims. I said it in my initial response to this situation before we knew what had happened, but my opinion remains the same here. Any information we get from the Hermits is a privilege, not a right. Hermitcraft and it's associated fandoms are well known for being healthy, good spaces, and I'm proud to be a member of this community. Now our money is where our mouths are. Please don't feed into the rumor mill, please continue to support the Hermits as you always would and don't pry or demand more details from them. This is a very difficult situation for all of us, and I'm certain it's even worse for all of them. Please keep in mind the Hermits are all grown adults, many of them had professional careers before they joined Hermitcraft, and they are handling this in as professional a manner as they are able. I applaud them for that. As their fans, we need to do the same.

What are my plans for Iskall and Stress in TTSBC?

Understandably, I've received several asks about what I plan to do about Iskall and Stress's characters in TTSBC. I've answered them individually, but I just want to put this here as a one-stop spot for what my stance is so it's clear.

I've always been a 'character not content creator' author. My characters are just that, characters. Does that mean I can completely remove them from the creators upon which they are based? No, of course not. That's not how this works, either. So here's my plan moving forward.

The two stories that heavily feature Iskall in TTSBC, "Run with It' and "Carry me Home Tonight" will remain up. They are timestamped with their dates of posting which was long before any of this came out, and again, they are very clearly meant to be characters, not the creators.

Iskall will be removed from the TTSBC: Wiki, and I will not be writing any new content for his character.

Does that affect the plot of TTSBC? Yes, it does. I'm not going to pretend it doesn't, and those of you who have followed the series at length can likely see where the issues arise...but I'm an author, and I can pivot. I also have an awesome little team behind me of @silver-sunray, @boo-the-ahh, and @khoirkid who are helping me to make sure TTSBC carries on smoothly despite this unforeseen struggle.

Stress will not be removed from the TTSBC: Wiki. As I mentioned in an ask earlier, her role in the story is very minor, and I hadn't planned for her to have any other pieces to herself outside of Hermit-a-Day May anyway...so aside from specific instances where it might be necessary to mention her, she will not be making any more major appearances. This is mainly because I'm a Hermit/Traffic/Empires writer, and I plan to stick to that notion unless future events cause me to pivot otherwise.

Lastly, I would appreciate if we could avoid anymore asks about the situation. If there are any further updates I'm sure I'll find that out on my own, I'm very active in this fandom and I see things pretty quickly when they spread, so if any new things related to this situation spring up, while I greatly appreciate your concern for me and my work, please don't send it to my inbox or in DM.

I'm very saddened by this, as I'm sure many of you are. Hermitcraft and it's associated fandoms have been my safe space for many years, through some of the hardest moments of my life, and with the mess that MCYT has proven itself to be at times, it felt like we were untouchable here. But like Doc said, the Hermits are good, and they are strong. And as their fans and supporters, we need to be the same.

Be good, be strong, and let's make sure our lovely community continues to be the positive space it always has been.

-Amethyst

#iskall situation #amethyst rambles #ttsbc #ttsbc au #through the sky blue cracks

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stop-talking · 1 year ago

Text

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 3)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.8k words

Tags: 18+, mike x reader, no use of y/n, smut, porn with plot, gag, bondage, exes, enemies, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, brat behavior all around, switch mike, sub mike, munch mike, dom reader, oral (fem receiving), pet names, banter, angst, love-hate relationship, hate fucking, aftercare, fluff.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

This chapter is pure smut. If you're here for the story (cuz pfft who reads this stuff right...) you can skip this and still understand part 4. TLDR: they fuck.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

You sit next to Mike on the couch as you down the last bit of your coffee.

"You know, I think I'd like to use one of my favors." You smirk and put a hand on his leg as you set your mug down.

"O-oh yeah?" Mike stutters out lamely, attention immediately pulled away from whatever stupid show you turned on the T.V.

"Yeah."

Mike yelps softly as you squeeze his thigh, but doesn't make any moves to stop you. Damn it, you know exactly how to push his buttons. You always did.

"What exactly do you want from me?" He narrows his eyes at you, brow furrowing as he desperately pretends he doesn't like to be toyed with.

"What do you think I want, Mikey?"

Mike's eyes go wide as your hand inches up his thigh, but he swallows and returns the sass.

"Why don't you tell me yourself, Princess?"

You huff and shift on the couch, throwing yourself across his lap dramatically. Your back arches from the way you're laying on his legs, and you stare up at him with a pout.

"Just take me to bed already."

Mike does just that, hooking one arm under your back, and the other under your knees. He fucking princess carries you. That's new.

"Damn, you been working out?" You tease him, feeling up his bicep with one arm as you hook the other around his neck for support. He doesn't look especially muscular, hell, he doesn't feel muscular either. Of course, that could be because of the soft hoodie he's wearing.

"What do you think?" He swings you around to face the bench press in the corner of his bedroom as he nudges the door closed with his foot. You'd never seen him actually use the damn thing, but... well, he was carrying you fairly easily.

"I think you've missed me." You look up at him, eyes trailing down to his lips.

"I'm just doing you a favor, sweetheart." He tosses you on the bed before you can get that kiss you were thinking about.

"You mean you're just doing me."

"As a favor."

His stubbornness irks you, and you crawl over next to him as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Here, let me help." You grab his leg and start taking off his sneaker. Mike's a little confused, but he lets it happen. You take the other one off as well, then wave a dismissive hand at him as you start untying his laces.

"You can take off the rest yourself."

"Fuck are you doing with my shoes?" He grumbles as he removes his hoodie and shirt.

You don't bother to answer him, and when he looks over again he realizes you're completely un-lacing his shoes.

"I need the laces."

"Do I even want to know why?" He scoffs and starts to undo his belt and shimmy out of his jeans, leaving him in just his boxers.

"Oh, you'll find out. Lie down and wait."

Mike stays put, scowling. However, It's a little hard to feign annoyance when he's, well, a little hard. He finally gives in when he realizes you're not gonna throw him any hints, and sighs as he scoots back on the bed.

"Good boy." You tease him, finally pulling the 2nd lace completely free of his shoe.

He groans, but makes no effort to stop you as you climb up on him in a straddling position. He only wishes you'd taken your shorts off first. Oh well. Not like they're covering much, anyways.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Not as much as you'd regret not doing this."

Mike can't argue with that. So, he doesn't try. He wraps a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss. His other hand finds its way to your lower back and he gives a little tug down, silently begging you to lower yourself onto him.

"Mmmph... nngh..." When the gentle tugging doesn't work, he tries whining, but everything comes out muffled with your tongue practically down his throat. He's not usually the type to just take what he wants, but damn it, he might try it soon if you keep tormenting him.

"What was that, Mikey?" You pull away from the kiss and sit up on him, finally making contact with the twitching hard-on in his boxers.

He's already breathless from the kiss, and now that he can feel you... he can't even talk. You've broken him already. He just pants and looks up at you with those big brown puppy eyes of his.

"Use your words." You scold him, and adjust yourself on top of him to brush up against him. When that doesn't get him to talk, you gently trail your nails down his chest with both hands. That really gets him going.

"Please." He hates begging. He hates this. Wasn't HE supposed to be doing YOU? And yet, here he is, already melting.

"Please what?"

"Please just do whatever-the-fuck you want." He sighs and goes limp, letting his arms drop to the bed as he tries to get his breathing under control. All that kissing made his brain go fuzzy.

"Thank you. I will."

Mike practically growls as you lean down and bite him in the crook of his neck. It quickly turns to a whimper when you start rocking your hips as well, grinding into him with those infuriatingly tiny shorts.

"Shh... Abby's asleep, remember?" Shit. The last thing he wanted to think about right now was his little sister in the room across the hall. You were right though, the walls here are thin. Mike nods and bites the inside of his cheek to quiet himself, then tugs desperately at your hips. He wants you to keep going. He needs you to keep going.

"Aww, you're so worked up already." You can't feel much through your shorts and his boxers, but you can tell his moves are getting desperate. After a minute or so of biting all down his neck and grinding on him, you decide to switch things up before he explodes.

"Fuuuuck." Mike lets out a low groan as you climb off of him. He tries to pull you back down by the hips, but you swat his hands off. No fair.

"Here, gimmie." You take his wrist and hold his arm up, fiddling with something. Before he can even process what's happening, his wrist is tied to the bedpost. Is that... his shoelace? He's not sure whether he should laugh or try and get out while he can.

"You're an evil woman." He groans, but doesn't even try to pretend he doesn't like this. Not with it literally jumping in his boxers.

"This evil woman misses your tongue, Mikey." You tsk at him quietly as you tie up his other wrist. Tight. Damn it, that's gonna hurt later.

"Fuck... sit on my face."

"What was that?" You look down at him with a smirk as you slip out of your shorts and panties, kicking them to the floor.

"Sit on my face." He repeats. "Please."

"Only because you asked so nicely."

Mike nearly dies right there when he feels your thighs wrap around the sides of his head. You aren't quite on his face, instead choosing to sit up on the top of his chest. It's still enough to drive him mad. Damn it, he shouldn't enjoy this so much.

"I... You're so..." He looks up at you, his usual scowl replaced with that dreamy expression you only ever got to see in times like this.

"So what, Mikey?" You prompt him, running your fingers through his dark brown curls with a hand. "Hm?"

"Sooooo mean." He closes his eyes and groans, leaning back into your hand as you play with his hair.

"I wanna be meaner. Suffocate you a little."

"Evil woman." His eyes twinkle as he looks up at you again, unable to hide how eager he is.

Laughing softly, you lift your hips and position yourself over his face. Much to your amusement, his arms tug at the restraints. Has he forgotten he's tied up?

"Hold still." You scold him, carefully lowering yourself. His stubble tickles a bit, but it's a familiar feeling. This isn't your first rodeo, especially not with him.

Mike already has his tongue out before you even touch his face. Honestly, he probably wants this more than you do at this point, even if you are the most infuriating person in his life. He moans when you finally make contact, surprised at just how wet you are. Damn it. You really do love toying with him.

"Shush. No moaning."

Mike whimpers a bit when you scold him, and starts bucking his hips into the air. God, he wishes his hands were free. He can't even bring himself to beg for it, too absorbed in you.

"Fuck, right there." You start to buck your hips slightly as well, grinding onto his face. His tongue is hitting just the right spot, and he fuckin' knows it. Bastard.

As soon as you give him that little sliver of praise, he loses it. Completely. He's a desperate, writhing mess beneath you, pulling against his restraints and thrusting up into the void while he eats you out like he's starved.

With one hand gently pulling his hair, and the other clinging to the headboard to steady yourself, you rock your hips. This earns you another low moan from Mike, and while the vibrations feel amazing against your clit, he needs to shut the fuck up.

"Quiet, or I'll fuckin' gag you." You hiss, yanking his hair a little harder for a moment to make a point. He returns to whimpering, for now.

God, you missed this. Mike Schmidt was a jackass, but he was a jackass that knew exactly how to make you squirm. In fact, you were squirming now. Fuck.

"I'm almost... mmm.... Mike..."

Fuck, now you're moaning his name?

Mike wants to grab your hips and pull you down into his face harder, but his hands are restrained.

He wants to grab himself and finally get off, but again, restraints.

He wants to moan, but you're threatening to gag him.

He wants to keep you in this bed with him forever, but he can tell you're close, and pretty unlikely to stick around afterwards. Even if you could be convinced, he's too stubborn to ask.

He wants to taste your cum. So he does.

"Fuuuuuck." You turn into a trembling mess on his face, your legs going weak as he licks and sucks in just the right way. He knows your body so well.

"Nngh, Mike, stop." You lift your hips, leaving him licking at the air for a moment.

"God, that was..."

Mike watches as you scoot back to sit on his chest again, and feels your thighs gently squeeze his face. When you run both hands through his hair as well, he's in heaven. He doesn't need you to say he did a good job to know he did well. He can tell by the way you caress him, and the slick dripping down his chin. He smiles at the glazed over look in your eyes, and he's sure.

"Did I earn the right to use my arms again, Princess?"

That little smug comment breaks you out of your trance. Bastard.

"Yeah, yeah. One minute." You sigh and stare down at his face. Poor boy is wrecked, your mess all over him.

Mike's eyes go wide as he watches you take off your little white tank top, your only remaining piece of clothing. He only gets a brief look at your tits before you swipe it across his face, cleaning him up.

"Hey, I was gonna eat that." He teases, staring up at your chest with hunger in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you still can." You chuckle and stuff the tank top in his stupid smug mouth, a makeshift gag for what's to come. or cum. hah.

Mike can't help but be annoyed with you. He's clearly going insane with how badly he needs to cum, he just worked so hard to finish YOU off, and his wrists hurt. And what do you do? Gag him. Wonderful.

As soon as you finish untying one of his wrists, Mike uses his newly freed hand to yank the gag out.

"What was that for?" He scowls, reaching to untie his other wrist himself as you crawl on top of him.

"You're loud when you cum. Put it back in and bite down or you're not getting any."

He rubs his wrists and looks at the woman straddling his legs so confidently. If you'd just scoot up a little, you'd be where he really wants you, right on his cock. But he figured that probably wasn't going to happen.

"You're infuriating." He willingly shoves the gag back in his mouth, attempting to scowl through a mouthful of cotton. All his anger melts away when you tug his boxers down and finally wrap your hand around his dick. He shudders. Fuck, he's not gonna last long.

"Just let it out, Mikey." You coax him, using a soothing voice and quick hand to finish him off. He bucks his hips up into you and whimpers through the gag, eyes rolling back into his head. Precum drips from him almost immediately, and you smile. He definitely had fun.

After hardly a minute of pumping, he explodes all over his stomach and chest. Fuck, some even gets on his neck. You laugh and make a show of licking your fingers clean, eyeing him up and down.

When Mike's eyes finally flutter open, he almost gets hard again. He tries to let the image of you straddling him, completely naked, and sucking his cum off your fingers soak into his brain. He wants it burned into his eyes, Christ. Why did he ever let someone so hot get away from him?

"That was fast."

Oh, right, because she's a total witch.

"You told me to let it all out."

"Mhm. And now look at you. A mess."

Mike props himself up on his elbows and snorts.

"Gonna lick me clean too, sweetheart?"

"Nope."

God, why did he even ask? He lies back down on the bed, sexually satisfied, but mentally and physically exhausted. He hardly registers you climbing out of bed until he hears his bathroom door close.

A few minutes later, you return and toss him a rag. It's warm and damp.

"Clean yourself up, you're a big boy." You taunt him while you slip back into your shorts and panties.

Mike sighs but accepts the rag and starts to wipe himself down.

You reach for your tank top, lying discarded at the edge of the bed. Then you remember you used it to wipe up... hm. Probably best not to wear it.

"I'm stealing a shirt." You announce, turning to rifle through his dresser. Is this the shirt drawer? No, this one?

"Keep the tank-top. Free souvenir."

"Stealing? Not borrowing?" Mike scoffs, sliding his boxers back up.

"Yep. Can I take this one?" You turn and hold up a faded grey shirt with a cheesy pun on it.

"No. I like that one."

"Oookay... what about this one?"

"No. Sentimental value."

"This?"

He's tempted to keep denying you, if only to see you shirtless for longer. Damn, if you hadn't tied up his wrists he would have been all over those...

"Mike? Can I have this one?" You repeat, annoyed.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure." He grumbles, turning away in an attempt to hide his blush. It was stupid. He just ate you out, and he blushes at the sight of boobs?

You chuckle to yourself as you throw on his shirt. It smells like him. Or at least, smells like his detergent.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Hope you had as much fun as I did, Mikey." You lean against his bedroom door, preparing to leave.

"You don't wanna stay for a bit?" Damn it. He sounded pathetic, begging his ex to stay. This was just a favor to you, a quick release. He couldn't help but try, though.

"Hm. Don't you have to take Abby to school?"

Mike glances at the digital alarm next to his bed. Shit. They're definitely running late now.

"...Yeah. I'll, uh, see ya?"

"You promised to get a new babysitter this weekend."

He swallows, heart sinking into his stomach. Yeah, he did say that, didn't he?

"Right. Yeah."

An awkward silence lingers in the air for a few moments, so you clear your throat and speak up.

"You wanna walk me out?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After quickly shuffling into some shorts and a t-shirt, Mike walks you to the front door and unlocks it for you while you gather your things. His heart wrenches at the sight of you in his shirt, though he tries not to show it. That sort of thing would usually mean you're his. But you aren't. Not anymore.

"Tell Abby I said good luck in her witching endeavors."

"Will do."

He watches you leave, and the exhaustion finally crumples him. Fuck, Abby's just gonna have to miss the first few hours of school today. He needs a nap. Or a medically induced coma.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: This was my first time writing smut so uh hope y'all enjoy. This series is also my first attempt at fanfiction in general. I'm so excited to write the last chapter! Sorry to end on a sad note. I love angst. Sad little babygirl Mike. <3 <3

Also, is tying Mike up with shoelaces very realistic? Probably not. But it's hot. And I can't imagine he keeps bondage stuff.

Edit: Part 4

#fnaf movie #fnafmovie #jhutch #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mikeschmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #mike x reader #josh hutcherson x you #smut #no use of y/n #x fem reader #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #angst fic #angst

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raayllum · 5 months ago

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Moon Arcanum Callum + Sun Arcanum Claudia in S7?

Callum getting the Moon arcanum has been a fandom... not theory, but shall we say, prospect, since even before S4. Some of this was because of the seeming set up in previous seasons, such as:

Callum having a hunch that the cube wasn't glowing due to the Moon, and being our first hint at illusions on the Cursed Caldera (1x09)

Lujanne explaining the secret of the arcanum (as she understands it) to him in 2x02

Callum doing moon arcanum spells (3x08, Through the Moon) much the way he did Sky spells before unlocking that arcanum

Callum employing aspects of the Moon arcanum in his plans (3x01 with tricking Sol Regem, creating the illusion pearl in 6x01)

His growing relationship and understanding with Rayla, and potential involvement with her family/village

But especially:

This is of course already reflected in spades in his arc as a mage. Everyone, Lujanne included, believes that humans can't do magic. She treats this as absolute fact and destiny, but Callum perceives it as subjective truth; why can't he just make his own connection and do magic anyway? And in doing so, he changes the world. He creates a radically new, better reality.

With season seven's synopsis on sacrifice and life and death, both things we see tied heavily to Moonshadow culture and the Moon itself, I could see Callum connecting to the Moon arcanum next season for a few reasons (and potentially Claudia with the Sun arcanum, which I'll get to after). So let's get into it.

Precursor

Previously, if Callum was going to connect to the Moon arcanum, I'd speculated it'd mostly be around ideas of the consistency of Love (light or dark, the moon is always the moon) and his love for Rayla being his light in the darkness / the one constant truth of his life. I don't think this anymore, obviously, because we got all those things through the Star truth light ritual beat for beat and we're not going to be repeating, but I did think it'd be worthwhile then to revisit what a Moon arcanum could mean for Callum under new context / emotional epiphanies. I've also always thought either Earth or Sun would suit Claudia, but leaned more towards the latter, so we're gonna talk about that, too.

Truth and Lies and Aaravos

As Lujanne explains in 2x02, the Moon arcanum is understanding the true nature of the relationship between appearances and reality, and we can only understand the appearance itself. This feels like a very fitting idea to come back to with Aaravos, who ostensibly never lies but routinely withholds or presents not entirely correct information. "How may I serve you?" when you're just going to be a pawn. Not telling a mourning Claudia that he was indeed the one who killed Viren so that she'll continue to do his bidding, with Claudia asserting that Aaravos "didn't lie" about the ritual in 6x01, and he didn't. We also see him wield the truth as a weapon with people like Khessa ("would you like to know the truth of her fate before you meet yours?") and Sol Regem (more on that here.)

Everything that he says is truth to him, and then he lifts it up as being objectively true (i.e. you're destined to play into my hands) even when it isn't necessarily true. We can also see Callum veering into mindsets that Claudia and Viren have had, where he believes he's past the point of saving ("I'm ruined, it's too late for me" "Promise me you'll kill me") or removing his own agency by admission ("Finnegrin was going to kill you, I didn't have a choice" / "Every step forward is a choice").

Callum understanding Aaravos' or others' actual truths versus their lies and the ones he's believing could be very fitting in S6, especially if he might be learning more about the existence of the Cosmic Council and who made their world the way it is. I think his existence may help lead to that "slow spiral of chaos" but that it won't be just or even Bad at all the way they'd feared, etc.

Claudia is also linked to lies and truth. She lies to others, but Aaravos notes that "If you tell the truth you will lose her," and she goes looking for her own deep truth in S6, but doesn't seem to fully find it. Terry asks her "What do you need to find your one deep truth?" and Claudia says that she needs her dad, but she and her mother have also made it clear that she "needed to stay with Soren" and her family (vs Viren telling her to pick the egg over Soren). With Viren gone and Aaravos manipulating her, Soren could easily be one of her guiding lights next season or in future seasons.

The Pearl

The moon is analogous, framing/appearance wise, to the prison. This is alluded to in 5x09 through framing, and then made even more direct in 6x09: Aaravos escapes his prison thanks to Claudia and (unbeknownst to her) she has become the prisoner, much like how Callum may physically free himself from chains in 5x08 but magically/emotionally chains himself further to Aaravos, or Viren shouting while in chains that he's finally free of the dark puppetmaster.

Basically, when Callum says in 6x01 that he's inside the pearl, I don't think (as of S6 / probably first half of S7 at least) that he's ever gotten out of it. Aaravos uses him even after his nightmare, and we know thanks to the pawn intro that Aaravos' final machinations for Callum also haven't yet come to play. I've been wondering if the Aaravos intro is going to change in S7, since he's out of his prison — and it still may — but if we look at it from the angle of Callum and Claudia both being stuck within the moon/pearl rather than just Aaravos himself, maybe it could stay.

And if Callum is stuck inside the moon-pearl, shattering it by understanding the arcanum ("the whole world is like a giant primal stone, and we're inside of it, and it's also in us") and/or with Claudia moving to the opposite of the moon could be useful, especially since Karim is a corrupted sun in his own way. Speaking of which let's talk about

Light and Dark

We know thanks to Claudia that black and white, or light and dark, are not always clear cut. Her hair thanks to her dark magic use changes like phases of the moon, with the light being bad and the dark being good. Conversely, her path is a dark one with the path of truth and light being withheld from her. In a similar manner, we see Callum's light (Rayla) being what led him into dark magic use and what led him out of it, and will likely see this pattern play out again. Aaravos is a representation of a path of darkness, but we also see the cube flashing a bright light in the pawn intro, tying light and darkness together for him as well.

Callum's understanding of himself that he gained through the Ocean arcanum can not simply become untrue or disappear, so I think recognizing that darkness isn't all he is ("I'm ruined" / "your heart's not full of darkness" "Neither is yours") even if there are dark parts of him and of his life would be fitting. It also seems that could be helpful with Claudia as well, and even characters like Ezran, who will have to wrestle with darker parts of his emotions/personality next season as well with Runaan. They've all got light and dark inside them, and learning how to walk in that balance and still break away from the Cycle / Aaravos is useful. As Ezran said in 4x03:

I just want to yell stop. But that’s not enough. It won’t work. I think about a positive vision, a faith we can all share, that we might build a future together in hope. A future where we can be safe with each other. But… It’s not that easy or simple. Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. Somehow, we have to hold it all in our hearts at the same time. We have to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss, but open up our eyes and allow ourselves to hope and maybe forgive and love again. We have to give today’s children a chance to inherit a future filled with peace. To give them that, we have to hold pain and love in our hearts at the same time.

Claudia's love for her family led her to ruin, but it can also save her through Soren. Callum's love for Rayla led him to ruin, but it has also saved him (and again, we'll likely repeat this pattern). Ezran's love for his father will lead him to anger but also pull him out of it, just as Viren's love for his son caused him to begin his journey of terrible things, but also guided him to do one final, truly right thing by the end.

Love is light and dark. Claudia, who's been walking in shadow, needs the full light - the sun, in the form of her brother. She needs to accept and see the truth of what's happening and step fully into the light. Callum, who has been routinely worried of the dark within him, needs to the reminder that he's not all he is, that he has light of his own inside. In doing so, he can break Aaravos' control over him and give hope to any other dark mages / humans in general that no level of corruption is too late to come back from, and that there is always light amid the darkness.

Life and Death

The stakes have never been higher as Aaravos and Claudia are on the warpath, determined to destroy the Cosmic Order and invert life and death. With the world’s fate on the line, our heroes must be ready to sacrifice everything to save it.

In Bloodmoon Huntress, we get a very different peek into how the secret of the Moon arcanum can be thought of through Runaan, who is peak Moonshadow-sacrifice elf man:

Moonshadow form is only achieved when we understand the balance of life against death. Balance is weight against weight, and to understand the weight of death you must feel the weight and value of another's life. Think of those you love, of who you hold most dear. Now think of the souls who have touched your life. Understand that each time your weapon meets its target, each time we fulfil our duty, the potential for that soul to change a life—to love another—is gone. We may remove hate, but we remove the potential for love as well. Moonshadow form is only achieved when we reconcile this balance between life and death.

While Claudia with her hair and dark mage-assassin parallels could unlock the Moon arcanum—especially if her perspectives continue to change—I think Callum as the Protagonist is better placed at this time to be the one to understand the balance between life and death in a season where the antagonists are trying to invert/destroy it. Him therefore understanding appearances and changes, how to control his own and see through others', understanding that balance between life and death, feels very fitting.

Callum's fear of Aaravos and dark magic comes from the fear that he's changing—"I hope you're careful, cause [magic] can change people" / "the corruption takes innocent creatures and changed them"—and that death would be better for him than life if he goes too far. Learning these things aren't the case and that he can get back to the middle (and indeed, "real trust is about accepting even the dark parts we will never know" could be about Rayla accepting he may not entirely swear off dark magic again, the same way Viren kept that door open to do Good) would be useful.

It would also mean the two mage characters most drawn into Aaravos' darkness get the Moon and Sun—the arcanums most associated with light—to banish said darkness as well. Claudia finally being an uncorrupted light and chasing life, not death, and Callum, learning how to be balanced and that he can maintain his identity / use Aaravos' book and key without fearing that he'll lose control.

The fact that Claudia's eclipse imagery only started the same episode she lost her brother, and that her Laurelion dragon-scale necklace is very Sunfire-y looking...

Conclusion

TDP for Callum and Claudia has always felt like a parallel coming-of-age mage story between the two of them, leading to the amount of similarities and diverging plot beats the two have, down to doing the same spell at the same time but in different locations in S6. The Sun arcanum is associated with truth, light, and healing, whereas the Moon arcanum is associated with change, life + death, and secrets/love. All of these things could be nicely brought to a head with Callum and Claudia each unlocking an arcanum of Moon and Sun respectively, showcasing their differences, their continued room to grow, and light amid the darkness.

While I could see alternatives like Sun for Callum and Moon for Claudia, Stars for Callum or no arcanum for either of them, I think these are the ones that fit best at this time / Stars will likely get saved for arc 3 given that arc 3 will probably focus more on rewriting destinies and the Cosmic Order as antagonists.

As always hope you enjoy and Dragons out!

#the dragon prince #tdp claudia #tdp callum #callum x claudia #moon arcanum callum truther #tdp #predictions #arc 2 #s7 speculation #tdp theory #sort of #tdp spoilers #bc of synopsis #theme: duality #s7 wishlist #honestly yeah #callum #claudia

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meeludrawz · 2 months ago

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New Rehab Program - P5

A/N: Hey if you wanna get tagged, just tell me! Cuz life makes me update slow, rip Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of you being badly injured, mention of death

About three weeks later, you were looking through the fridge with your phone in hand. "I know, I know but I think he's gonna eat the walls if he doesn't go out" You threw a glance at Tomura. "No offense" You mouthed.

The ex-villain, sitting on the kitchen counter, yes ON the counter, only stucked his tongue out while he played on his phone. You recently found out that he liked sitting on any surfaces, like a cat. You often told him to not do that, but he never listened so you quickly gave up.

All Might was trying to change your mind. He wasn't against the idea of giving Shigaraki more freedom but your bosses would put you and the retired hero in trouble.

"I know it has been only three weeks since your last visit and I know he's gonna hang out with Dabi- I mean Touya, next week" You sighed. "But he needs to go out or he's gonna chew his cage, I'm telling you"

"Ew" Tomura mumbled.

You playfully stuck your tongue out at Shigaraki before your face slowly faded into disappointment as you listened to All Might.

The villain looked up and immediately frowned. {He's smart} You thought with a sad smile because, one again, society was stopping him from having fun.

You silently nodded. "Yes I understand.. Thanks All Might" You almost whispered before hanging up.

You peeked at the white haired man. "Sorry, we-"

He jumped off the counter and put his hand on your mouth, cutting you off. "Turn off your phone and let's go"

You blinked multiple times, removing his hand from you. "What? Why?"

"Let's get groceries anyway" He walked to the entrance, putting his red shoes on.

Your eyes widened. "What? No, I'll get in trouble"

"C'mon, I won't do shit, plus I'm sick of not having any Monster"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the mention of the energy drink, before quickly following him.

Once at the grocery store, you grabbed a cart and the white haired man climbed in it.

"Didn't you say you weren't going to do shit, mister?" You chuckled. "And you're not a kid"

"This is nothing compared to what I would've done before, so shut up and drive" He grumbled while he got comfy.

You sighed and playfully rolled your eyes before entering the fruit and vegetables area.

You only grabbed what you needed while Tomura didn't pick anything until you reached the snacks aisle.

There, he snatched energy drinks, chips and some other sweets. You, on the other hand, took more sweets than anything else.

"My therapist is a fucking sweet tooth" He mumbled as you put the stuff in the cart.

"Hey, you took chocolate too!"

"Well, I didn't just take that!" He teased as you drove the cart towards the cash registers.

You paid for everything then as you started pushing the cart towards the exit, his whispers made you shiver. "Stay silent and hurry"

"Why?" You whispered back, nervously looking around as you quickened your pace.

He only answered once you were at your car. You opened the trunk and started putting the bags inside with Tomura's help.

"The cops are here and they don't look happy" He grumbled in a low voice, holding your wrist and throwing glances here and there.

"Oh fuck, am I going to jail??" You whispered-yelled as you spotted them too

"Maybe" Tomura grinned at your horrified expression "But hey, you wouldn't be alone"

"I'd rather NOT go to jail Tomura" You mumbled with gritted teeth

"Just stay behind-"

Gunshots were fired and you immediately fell to the floor. But for Tomura, it felt like you were falling in slow motion, as he tried to catch you. "NO!"

He didn't know why, but everything got blurry. Your voice, his surroundings, the cops, your face, everything. It all felt surreal for some reason and yet, he was holding you tight against him and breathing like he had just ran a marathon.

The villain glared at each damn cops that was surrounding him. They'll fucking pay.

"Tomura?"

Wait that was your voice, he looked at you, but you were dead. Eyes opened, not any single light in it and blood had ran down your chin

"Tomura!"

The young man blinked and found himself in a new room. Where the fuck was he?

He felt something pet his head and he sat up in a jolt.

"Hey, it's okay! It's just me!" You lifted your hands in a defensive way. "You were having a nightmare so I woke you up"

Tomura stared at you. A nightmare? He observed his surroundings. You were both on a bench, secluded from… multiple cubicles. What stood out the most were the people in uniforms.

Cops

He frowned. "Why are we here?"

"Remember that call with All Might earlier?"

He turned back to you and nodded.

"Yeah, well after that, we went to the grocery store, right?" He nodded again. "All Might called again when we were gone and since we didn't pick up, he got anxious and called Eraser Head and the police" You gave him a small smile, scratching the back of your neck.

"They found us- I mean found me when I walked out of the store cuz you were asleep in the cart" You then chuckled. "You should've seen that, All Might literally grabbed you bridal style like a little baby because I asked to not wake you up"

Shigaraki made the most hilariously-disgusted face you've ever seen and that made you laugh. "I'm so sad I didn't bring my phone to take a pic"

He rolled his eyes. "That doesn't explain why we're here"

"Right! So we're here to get scolded.. kinda? Anyways, All Might and Eraser Head are getting scolded for disturbing the police for "nothing". They started with them because I insisted, again, that you should sleep"

Tomura raised a brow. But before he could even ask why, you added: "Don't look at me like that, I know you have trouble sleeping"

Shit, how did you know? He avoided your gaze. "Maybe I'm just playing all night"

You shook your head and crossed your arms. "I have good ears sir, plus, you don't close your door anymore and I'd hear the clackety of your controller, the tapity of your keyboard or the clickety of your mouse"

The young man stayed silent. He turned his body and leaned his back against the wall, still sitting next to you.

You put your hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He hesitated for a couple of long seconds. What could he even tell you? "I.. Keep dreaming about this person.." He stopped for a bit, thinking of how he should phrase this. "They keep dying in front of me"

It was your turn to stay silent. You were almost anxious to even answer because for once, he was willing to talk. He was finally opening up to you about his problems! Which was why you were scared to fuck things up.

"It's my reaction to their death that annoys me" Tomura mumbled.

"Why? Do you start laughing?" You tried to guess.

He shook his head and his frowned deepened. You could read his face, he was trying to understand his dreams on his own but he couldn't and that was frustrating him. Normally, you would've smiled and told him it was okay but you couldn't activate too much your therapist mode. In case he'd figure and close himself again.

"No.. it's.."

You let him figure his words on his own. If he didn't, you'd try to help as subtly as possible.

He clenched his fists, glaring at the ground. "I don't fucking know, but I hate it" It felt like he was pouting, which was cute, somehow.

"Hate what? Your reaction? That person? Seeing them die?"

He took a few moments for himself. It took so long that you thought he figured this was kind of a therapy, which got you nervous, but he answered. "Them dying, I just don't get it.. Normally I don't give a shit"

You smiled a little. "Well.. Maybe you do now" He gave you an annoyed look. "I mean, deep down, inside you, you're afraid of losing that person. And you maybe actually like them a lot more than you may think"

The white haired man crossed his arms, looking down, you could almost see the gears turn in his head.

The silenced installed itself in between the two of you. You actually appreciated it while Tomura was breaking down his brain piece by piece.

Though, you thought that he shouldn't think too much about this. After all, it was just a dream. And they didn't always mean something.

You smirked a littke and nudged his shoulders with yours. "How's that for a first therapy session?"

Shigaraki blinked, coming back to reality, then turned to you, taking a few seconds before he realized. He then frowned, fuck maybe you fucked up.

"Fuck off" He gently pushed you off the bench you both were sitting on since you arrived at the station.

He was smirking so you smiled back. "Hey!" You stood up and grabbed his wrists, trying to pull him off the bench too.

He scoffed as it wasn't working.

You fooled around like that for a while, seemingly not realizing that the two heroes were watching you.

His blonde colleague smiled. "I believe this is working well"

"Apparently.." Aizawa crossed his arms.

He felt odd about this, no, he felt… Proud? Why? Normally, he'd feel that kind of pride for his students. But now, for some reason, he was glad that Tomura Shigaraki and his therapist were getting along and having fun.

Maybe All Might's plan to rehabilitate Tomura- Tenko wasn't as worthless as he thought after all..

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#mha #bnha #shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura #all might #aizawa shouta #eraserhead #yagi toshinori #my writing

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andhumanslovedstories · 1 year ago

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hey here's another question that I've been thinking about for about a week with no particular breakthrough. I'm so much on the healthcare side that all my advice is on that side. Dude, I read academic articles for this and didn't come up with anything particularly useful. That's why I'm answering this publicly, so other people hopefully add something useful. (Also I know you said you're not looking for opioids. I'm gonna talk about opioids anyway they certainly affect perceptions of chronic pain. In your case, try making clear early on that you don't want opioids.)

I'll say some things that I've noticed from my work to maybe provide some insight into healthcare's side of the exchange. I'm not saying this is the way things should be, I'm giving advice based on how I see things are. I wish I could say this wasn't the case, but when there's a pain medication standoff, the two ways I've seen it work out best for a patient are:

A third party advocates for the patient. (like family, nurse, social worker, different specialist, patient advocate, etc)

Change in caregiver.

I don't like those as the top answers, but that's what I've seen and it's consistent with a lot of the accounts I encountered. There is also a third way that the pain medication standoff can quickly end in a patient's favor:

3. New evidence (new symptom, imaging, vital signs, lab test, etc) forces a reexamination of how we're thinking about the patient.

This is also the "oh shit they seem worse" method, but it can also be "we have gained new information that re-contextualizes the information we already knew." This is like hey the xray came back, your whole bone is dust, or hey your blood pressure is now significantly higher, or hey oops your appendix exploded.

In all three cases, something new happens to change the dynamic. This works for healthcare providers operating in good faith because someone comes in fresh and/or the new dynamic causes the healthcare team to do a new assessment and cost/benefit analysis with this updated information. This works for healthcare providers operating in bad faith because they are either removed from the situation or put in a position where giving pain medication is less onerous than not giving pain medication. I genuinely, genuinely believe far more healthcare employees are operating in good faith rather than bad faith, although the end results can look the same from the patient side. This means I think that far more people are swayed by additional information that makes pain management have more benefit and less cost.

I don't know how actionable any of this is from the patient side unfortunately. I don't love being like "my advice? wait till shift change, see if you can shake it up." Bring someone to the emergency department with you if you have someone available, preferably someone prepared to make a fuss on your behalf. If you don't have a third person, see if you can get one. Hospitals can have patient advocate as a job. If they aren't available, is there someone on your healthcare team that seems most sympathetic? Try asking them if they have any advice. They might be able to give you some, they might advocate for you. Be careful about badmouthing staff to other staff and avoid compliments to one member of the team that relies on insulting another member. You don't know the relationships at play, and it's sort of like how you shouldn't trash talk your old job when interviewing for a new job. You may be completely right in everything you're saying, but being like "my boss was a crazy asshole who refused to recognize my work," doesn't come off as objective. It can undercut your credibility and introduce hostility into the conversation where it is not productive.

I'd also be prepared to talk about what you already tried to relieve the pain. Again, with you I'd mention upfront that you don't want opioids because they don't work for you. Then say what you have already tried at home before you came in (tylenol, ibpurofen, heating, ice, exercises, stretching, shower, other meds, etc) and the effect of both the pain (can't sleep, makes you nauseated, had to call off sick from work, aren't able to be a caregiver to someone, etc) and your already attempted interventions (no significant pain control, symptoms got worse, called PCP, they said emergency was the next step, etc). If your condition is chronic, compare it on the pain scale and the functionality scale to your baseline. (i.e. "I'm always at least a 3 out of ten on the pain scale, but it doesn't usually leave me bedbound." "Normally Symptom improves after Intervention At Home, but that didn't work this time.") Something that can make providers hesitant is if opioids, benzos, or other powerful drugs are the first and only thing a patient says will help and they're unwilling to try anything else, so sometimes demonstrating flexibility with your pain plan can signal "I'm not here for oxy to sell, I'm here because I want my symptoms to stop (and, if relevant, figure out what is causing them)."

Also if you can and feel safe doing so, consider providing feedback to the hospital. Nothing changes without something documented.

#nursing tag #please ppl on more pt and ed side feel free to weigh in #sorry if any of this seems condescending or super obvious like 'yeah obviously i do that already'#me: don't know what to say :/#also me: six billion word reply

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geraskierfanficprompts · 5 days ago

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Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)!!!

I like: 1: My hair :) Natural pretty ringlets that look like they were done at a salon, and always a bright dyed color that makes me happy when I look in the mirror (i've done a pinkish purple, a blue, fluorescent green that lit up like a blacklight poster, and currently a bright yellow!) 2: My characters, I'm proud of my designs and the backstories I write for them, and the roleplays and stories and ttrpgs I put them in. I'm proud of my creativity, of my usage and flipping of tropes, and my work using vocal quirks, mannerisms, and different personalities. :))) 3: My deep voice :) I'm a ciswoman with a deep natural voice. I've always been proud of it, I like it :))) 4: My humor, I've always been able to make a room laugh, and it makes me feel nice. Even if I'm losing myself with anxiety, if I can make someone laugh, suddenly I feel weightless :)) 5: My teeth!!! I have a few extra, including wisdom teeth that grew in normally and didn't have to be removed. I like seeing my extra lil fang up front when i smile :)))) I used to be upset with them, but over the years, I've really grown to love them, and it's just not me without them People who can do this (if they want lol) @xx0livkaxx (Whom I believe was my first ever follower according to the list :P) @moonasticcreastic, I smile every time I catch a post of theirs :) @ahumoki0, who likes so many of my prompts they've become a household name lol @stubbornasacat, who sends me the best memes and always has great insights on posts of mine! @thedemonofcat who makes incredible geraskier prompts you should definitely check out! @thequeeninyellowlace who not only makes funny geraskier memes, but also tends to add incredibly amazing add-ons to prompts of mine :) @i-have-all-the-genders who recently liked like every post I ever made, welcome to my shitstorm blog!!! Hope you enjoy the stay! @0dde11eth who technically doesn't follow me but they're a mutual in my heart, I love all their posts and incorrect quotes with my whole soul @everything-but-the-not-natural, who does all those "#witcher cross stitch bullshit" posts, also doesn't follow me, but I like them lol, ALSO, Apparently I've just been stalkign them without following THEM?? I completely thought I did because they showed up so much in my home page but apparently it's just the tags on their posts feeding them to me? Anyways I rectified my mistake because I love their blog so I finally followed them like I should've been doing for months now APWHIGAPWHGAW Edit: FANTASTIC NEWS! THEY DO FOLLOW ME! WE ARE MUTUALS!!! THey did it in another blog! there's multiple blogs on tumblr! that's a thing yoiuc an do! i forgot!!! this is amazintg :)) I have FRands!!!! @bakewrite, last but not least, my tumblr wife, Bakeywake! An incredible fic writer (who has done some of my prompts, cough cough, you should read those), who comments on every post of mine, and talks to me constantly. Sometimes I get too flustered by the day to respond right away but every message means the world to me. They're my biggest fan, my cheerleader, my frieng :))) Special shout out to @akelafang who I'd be tagging if they didn't tag me, I love them to bits and pieces And also @houseofcharobones, my best friend of five years now :) puts you in my stew and fucking stirs it

#reblog game #positivity #akelafang #anyone can do this btw!!!!#it was fun :)#sorry to people who came just for the game and got blasted in the face by my love for followers and mutuals and other tumblr users

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alkaline-wtr · 10 months ago

Text

WE WILL SURVIVE

- - CHAPTER 3 - -

Graves x reader Description: Reader makes an unexpected new friend and makes it through the city. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Graves x reader, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader,angst, gore, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 4.5k

My Masterlist

** I FINALLY DID IT!! I pulled an all-nighter to finish this! I'd like to first apologize for this chapter taking SO long... I honestly couldn't get my ideas straight but four rewrites later and I'm actually pretty proud of it. I was worried about this chapter being too long, but I decided I'd rather it be long and decent than rushed and awful. This one is more of a filler chapter to give some more context and backstory, but I wanted it to still be entertaining. Also, this IS still a Ghost x reader! Don't worry! He's just going through some stuff. Ya know? Lastly, to the Graves haters!! as a former Graves hater myself, I encourage you all to give the man a chance because writing this chapter single-handedly changed my mind about him. Anyways, strap in it's a long one. Hopefully, the wait was worth it. I can finally sleep! Enjoy.

if you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist please let me know.

<< PART 1 / << PART 2

You kept your eyes down, hugging the flashlight to your chest. The fear in your body caused you to tremble. The last time you had been face to face with someone on a road, you almost died, and this time, Ghost wasn't here to bail you out.

"Well, what do we have here?"

The stranger spoke in an enthusiastic tone. You looked at the toe of his boot nervously.

"Come on, sweetheart. Get off the ground."

The sound of your racing heartbeat filled your ears as you allowed your eyes to wander upward. The barrel of a rifle was inches from your nose, aimed at the asphalt below. It was relieving to know that the man wasn't actively threatening you. You took that to be a good sign.

The beam of light in your face was too bright to see the person's features.

Getting impatient with your silence, the man lowers the flashlight.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

His tone of voice suggested that he was annoyed with your reaction.

You slowly pull yourself to your feet. He seemed to be of an average height, taller than you. The man was blonde and had a fair complexion.

"What's your name?"

He raised an eyebrow. His tone remained almost lighthearted as if none of this had phased him.

"Y/n."

Your response is cautious. You kept your voice low. Your eyes searched him for any movement. The feeling in your gut was uncertain. He seemed authoritative yet approachable... possibly unpredictable.

"Well y/n, you're welcome. It seems I saved your ass back there."

The man's demeanor was cocky, and he was a bit full of himself. He swings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and puts out a hand for you to shake.

Something about his personality seemed intense. You hesitated to offer your hand but when you did, he gripped it firmly, pulling your wrist down briefly in a simple shake.

"Names Phillip Graves. You alone?"

You nodded eyeing the gun on his back. Phillip flashed a charming smile.

"Where are you headed to?"

He seemed to be full of questions, you couldn't quite decipher whether that was good or bad.

Unfortunately, he was the only other person around and didn't seem to immediately want to kill you. Something within you told you to give him a chance, it's not like you had options.

"I was just trying to make my way through the city." You admitted.

Phillip nods posing his hands on his hips.

"That's bold, for someone alone, especially of your... stature."

You couldn't help but glance down at yourself a little offended.

"I just mean, you don't seem to be the survivalist type." He adds.

You brush off the comment and change the subject.

"Are you alone too?"

You question. His bright smile returns, making his blue eyes crinkle at the edges.

"Been solo for quite a bit now. Although, Maybe that has changed."

It came out more as a statement than a question. He was arrogant and as much as his cocky attitude irritated you, you weren't going to turn down the company. Unfortunately, he was right you weren't the survivalist type.

You sat atop a large pickup truck. Your legs crossed beneath you. Phillip had called it 'keeping watch' but you thought he just wanted you out of the way.

You rested your hands on your ankles. Phillip is kneeling on the driver's side of the car trying to get the truck to start.

Breathing out a bored sigh you lean over the edge of the roof to check on his progress.

"Any luck?"

The blonde man leans back resting an arm on his bent knee.

"Afraid not."

He groans stretching as he stands back up Brushing his hands together to knock off any dirt.

"Looks like we'll have to walk."

Glancing up at you, his hands coming up to rest comfortably on his hips.

"Where to?"

A hint of confusion and curiosity in your voice.

Phillip waved his hand in a gesture that said to come down.

You stretched your legs out sliding your backside down until your shoes hit the bed of the truck. His hand pressed gently against your back steadying you as you climbed out.

"Well, I wouldn't mind heading into the city. It's more dangerous, but I know a place we can find some real firepower."

The idea gave you a bad feeling. Even though that had been the original plan, going through the city was the last thing you wanted to do. Now with Phillip around to watch your back, you felt no need to chase after Ghost anymore.

You continue to think for a moment. A trip through the city wasn't the worst idea, considering your lack of supplies. Slowly, you nod in a hesitant agreement.

"Okay, I guess that could work." Unsure of your response.

"Great! We can head out in the morning. It would be too dark right now."

Phillip shuts the door and walks to the back letting down the tailgate. He sits down, letting his legs hang off the side and pulls the rifle around to his lap. You watch him for a moment. He seemed content.

"How long have you been on your own?"

You question. Phillip turns to look at you. Surprisingly, the smile doesn't leave his face, but you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Ah, I don't know exactly..."

He sighs and turns to face forward again as if thinking how to continue. You join him on the tailgate, pulling your legs up and tucking them underneath you.

"I had a group, some people I've known for a long time but... they left me behind. Although, they had good reason."

His shoulders fall in a dismissive shrug.

Curiously, you wanted to push the subject further but before you could ask more, he changed the subject.

"Well, you better get some sleep... I'll be lookout."

His eyes meet yours in a way that told you it hadn't been a suggestion. Scooting yourself deeper into the truck bed, you shrug your backpack off your shoulders and use it as a pillow. It took a moment to adjust to a comfortable position. You lay back with a sigh.

In your line of sight was the mess of short blonde hair on the back of Phillips's head.

"Goodnight." You spoke.

The words were soft and laced with nervousness. Worried about trusting a stranger while you slept but even more worried, he'd be gone when you woke up.

Phillip doesn't respond but you can see his slight nod of acknowledgment before closing your eyes.

The orange sun lit up the cool morning. It had only been a few miles of walking to reach the exit ramp that brought you directly into the city. The large buildings towering above you were nearly in ruins, windows broken, areas were burnt, and the streets were littered with shrapnel. You make your descent on the ramp. There is a row of tire spikes you have to step over and cones blocking the lanes.

You'd remembered the news reports back in the small towns warning not to enter the cities. For days the gruesome news reports showed the traffic on the highways, and the bodies of those infected lining the streets but, this had been the first time since the outbreak began three months ago, that you had seen it all firsthand.

The smell of morning dew wafted through the air as Phillip led you under an overpass. You looked on in awe at the grim scene ahead.

"Come on. We're almost there."

Phillip stated, eyes scanning to make sure it was clear for you to cross the street.

The two of you continued deeper into the city. Finally, reaching a chain-link fence.

"What is this place?" You asked.

He had gone closer to the fence and checked its stability.

"It's a military camp."

He answers, turning to you.

"They had troops set up in the cities to try and minimize the spread."

He gestures for you to come over.

"We're going to climb the fence. You first."

As you approach, he pulls your bag down your shoulders. Phillip tosses it over the fence and helps boost you up.

Perched at the top of the fence. You take a moment to look out over the camp, some of the infected were wandering around at the far end. Fear filled you like a hunger in your stomach as you continued down quietly.

Phillip tossed his own bag to the other side of the fence and leaned the rifle over the top for you to grab. You take it in your hands, watching over your shoulder cautiously as you wait for him to climb.

The thud of boots hit the pavement beside you and Phillip pulls the riffle from your palms.

"Let's go."

He leads you quietly to a large green tent. Following closely, your gaze lingered on Phillips's back. Taking in the sight of his cautious stance as he crept forward. Much like Ghost, he had great awareness.

You shuffle quietly under the tarp it is more humid underneath than you'd expected. Both of you split up within the tent in search of supplies.

The tent was lined with cots. Small metal chests rest at the ends. Some were stripped completely of their blankets, and some even missing mattresses. One cot had a duffle bag on it. It was empty besides a couple pairs of socks and a tee shirt.

You dump the clothes out and take the bag moving to the next bed. Stepping cautiously with your heels to stay silent.

Phillip finishes searching his half and comes over to see what you had.

"Just this and a pocketknife."

You respond holding up the duffle bag. He nods,

"Found this,"

He holds up a couple of half-empty bottles of water.

You frown.

"There isn't much here, maybe someone beat us to it?"

Phillip shakes his head. The wrinkles in his face stood out with the furrow of his brow.

"That isn't likely... Let's check the other tents they'll have better stuff."

You follow him down to the entrance of the tent. As you pass a cot at the end of the row you feel a tug at your ankle.

The shock sent you to the ground with a gasp. Snarling sounds grow louder as a corpse crawls out from under the cot. You turn yourself around trying to back to your feet but the corpse's grip is stronger than anticipated.

He pulls you a bit closer sending you flat on your stomach. You grunt as you use all your force to try and kick him away, but the angle of your body puts you at a disadvantage.

Phillip reappears at the entrance concerned when you aren't behind him.

"Shit, Y/n!"

He runs over pulling the rifle off his shoulder and using the blunt end to smash the corpse's head. The cracking sound of the skull makes you cringe. His grip loosens and you're able to scramble backward. Phillip hits him a couple more times making sure it's completely limp before helping you up.

"You okay?"

You rise back to your feet with a huff.

"Yeah, let's just finish searching and get the hell out of here."

Phillip pats your back before leading the both of you back out of the tent. You take in the site of the ravished camp. Tents littered with bullet holes, blood coating the entrances, and a circle of chairs around an ashy fire pit where a couple of bodies lay. The whole sight was gruesome, and the horrific scene was only intensified by the silence.

Phillip marches forward stabbing a blade into the back of a corpse's head. Another comes from the tent to his side, and he turns taking it out too.

You still couldn't fathom how people were just okay Killing so instinctively.

Phillip turns to you gesturing you to keep following.

The tent containing food was by far the worst. It smelled awful. Between rotten produce, decaying bodies, and moldy bread. It was the equivalent of a dumpster in the hot sun. You covered your nose to keep yourself from retching. Phillip however, didn't seem to be affected by the smell. You tiptoe passed an overturned table. Buzzing flies cut through the silence as they swarm a mess of bodies.

The two of you searched the entire tent from top to bottom, coming out of it with a few varying cans, a couple more bottles of water, and a handful of MRE packages.

The rest of the camp was pretty much the same. Infected wandering about, a few water bottles, lots of blood, and not much else. It wasn't until you reached an arsenal that Phillips's eyes lit up.

"Jackpot!"

He drops his bag on the ground stepping further inside to inspect the weaponry.

"I wasn't sure how much would be left here."

The tent had been looted to some capacity but, there was still plenty here to arm ourselves with. As he held a rifle looking down the scope and checking the magazine you turned to look inside a crate. You lifted the wooden top to peek inside startled when Phillips's alarming voice called out.

"CARFUL Y/N! Those are explosives. Don't touch anything!"

Suddenly you weren't feeling very secure, the thought of being surrounded by crates of explosives that could all go off and kill you at any moment... was unsettling, to say the least.

You heed Phillips's warning and stay still in the middle of the tent.

A pair of camo pants fall in front of you. Phillip had tossed them at your feet.

"Put those on." He commanded.

You raise an eyebrow glancing from the cargo pants up to him,

"What? Here?"

"I won't look. Just put them on."

He insisted, turning his back to you completely while he continued to check out the crates. You undo the button of your jeans and pull them off before slipping into the camo pants. They were a bit too large for you.

Phillip turns again without a word. Looking down at a pair of combat boots.

"These too."

He hands you the boots. You were hesitant to replace your sneakers. However, you knew the worn soles wouldn't last much longer with all the walking you'd been doing.

"Take this," Phillip says.

As you finish lacing up the boots, he turns to you, handing you a large rifle similar to the one strapped to his back. You shake your head holding it out an arm's length away from your body. Phillip had already turned away to grab another gun.

"Uh... No, I don't think I should have something like this."

Phillip ignores the remark as he picks out a couple more things from the arsenal. He walks back to you chuckling at your awkward resistance to holding the weapon.

He takes it back and props it against a stack of crates.

"Relax. You shouldn't be afraid of a gun in your own hand. Besides, if you're going to survive in this world you're going to need them."

You try to counter but, Phillip raises his hand signaling you to stay quiet, and kneels in front of you.

"Lift your arms."

You put your arms out to your side watching as Phillip wraps a black belt around your hips. The belt had sandy-colored straps attached to it. With a thick plastic holster slot for a handgun.

"Widen your stance a bit."

You step out, jumping a bit when you feel Phillips's hands on your inner thigh. He buckles the holster around your leg before moving his hands down to cuff the ends of the pants above your boots. His touch is light.

His rough hands begin working away at your boots, tying them tightly and wrapping the laces around the top before tucking the remaining strands against your ankles.

You clear your throat nervously as Phillip stands back up.

"Lookin' good!"

He smiles proudly. His hands rested again on his hips.

"How does it feel?"

You turn your leg a bit as you look down at the military get-up.

"Weird," you reply.

Phillip chuckles and walks back over to the crates.

"You'll get used to it. These will be much more efficient than jeans."

He walks back over holding a large knife covered by a leather sleeve. He reaches down to attach it to your belt opposite the gun holster.

"Now let's look over what we've got."

He grabs your backpack and turns it over kneeling to rummage through your belongings.

He looks over the pistol Ghost had given you.

"Didn't take you for a gun owner," he says setting it to the side.

"Oh... I uh- I'm not. I found it."

Your thoughts wandered back to your fight with Ghost. You still felt guilty about driving him away but, look at how Phillip had been helping. You thought. Maybe it was for the best that Ghost left.

You watch as Phillip splits the food and water rations, moving everything to a tan tactical backpack he'd found. The unnecessary items, like the dim flashlights, and the hammer you'd collected were left in a pile on the ground.

He packed the duffle bag you'd taken from the tent for himself, filling it with ammo, extra weapons, and other equipment.

With his hand outstretched he hands you your new bag. You pull it on over your shoulders, fiddling with the little buckle on the front clicking it over your chest. Admittedly, you felt pretty cool being geared up with all this military equipment.

Phillip straps on his own holster, looking over a pistol before slotting it on his thigh. He steps in front of you holding the pistol from your bag. He had a box of ammo tucked under his arm as he clicked the magazine into place flipping the safety on.

He reaches down to slide it into your holster and steps back placing the box of ammo in your hands.

"If you're going to keep guns on you, Then, you're going to need to learn to shoot."

Your eyes widen in surprise as Phillip throws the duffle bag over his shoulder and grabs two identical riffles.

"What? I- I don't know if-"

Phillip holds his hand up to silence you again.

"Don't worry. I'm going to teach you. Here."

He hands you the rifle once again and heads out of the tent. You hesitate to follow, eyeing the little black flashlight Phillip had left out of your bag.

Something inside you couldn't bear to leave behind Ghost's flashlight. Even though it wasn't necessary now with all the new stuff Phillip had gathered, you decided to take it anyway. Opening one of the velcro pockets of the cargo pants, you place the flashlight securely inside.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky as you leaned over the ledge of an apartment building. The rooftop looked out over the city streets littered with infected. You watched them wander below as Phillip prepared your rifle.

"You ready?" He asks.

You step away from the edge taking the rifle from his hand.

"Do I really need to do this?"

You'd been nervous about this idea. You'd never been a big fan of guns and since the outbreak, you'd gotten by just on your ability to run and hide. You hadn't had to kill anyone or anything so far and weren't ready for that to change.

Phillip stands behind you, positioning your arms to hold the rifle properly against your shoulder.

"Now, always remember... The gun has some kickback. So, keep steady. Watch where you hold it on your shoulder you don't want to hurt yourself. Only aim the barrel with the intent to kill and finger off the trigger unless you plan to shoot. Got it?"

You nod and Phillip steps to the side crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alright, keep your finger off the trigger for now and get a feel for aiming. Look down your sight and line up your crosshair with their heads."

Phillips's instructions were clear but, you were left with so many questions about his life before the outbreak.

"Focus. You want to always aim for the head. Every second counts... Making that a habit will save you one day."

You take a deep breath tightening your grip on the rifle and tilting your head to look down the sight as Phillip had instructed. The movement is slow as you scan the street, trying to line up the cross hair with the head of one of the corpses.

After a few moments of practicing your aim, Phillip gives his next instruction.

"Okay, next I want you to line up your crosshair just like that, but this time pull the trigger."

Your heart pounded in your ears, you were not fond of the idea, to begin with, and now you'd have to do it. Finally, you would have to take a life... Even though you knew the infected were dangerous and no longer human, it didn't sit right with you. They used to be normal people just like you. What would be left if not your humanity?

Phillip waited patiently as you built up your courage, taking in deep breaths to calm your nerves. You scan the crowd again. Your crosshair stopped on the forehead of a woman. You watched her shuffling forward. Her colorless eyes looked straight ahead.

It took all your strength to pull back the trigger. The attached suppressor stifled the loud bang you'd otherwise expected to hear.

You were jolted backward. You'd missed your shot at the woman and gunpowder filled the space beneath your nose. Letting out a loud gasp you let your arms fall from their position, gripping the rifle tightly at your waist.

"It's okay," Phillip reassures.

"Try again, keep your stance tight. You'll need to put a bit of strength in it."

You nod, taking a few more deep breaths to calm your racing pulse.

Raising the rifle again you steady your feet aiming down the rifle once more. Slowly scanning, looking for the same woman as before. Once your crosshair lands on her, you take another deep breath and brace yourself for the impact.

Your finger squeezes the trigger. The bullet whizzes through the air landing on your target.

The woman's lifeless body drops to the cement. Adrenaline fills your veins and guilt settles in your stomach. It was a conflict of emotions, excited that you'd succeeded but sad that you'd shot a person.

Phillips' encouraging words broke you from your thoughts.

"Yes! Great job Y/N! Do exactly that. Go again."

The night settled over the city. An orange light illuminated the space around you as you watched the roaring flames of the crackling fire. Phillip had decided it was best to spend the night up here after a long session of gun training.

"You did a good job,"

Phillip says, sitting down across from you.

"You'll need a bit of practice, but I think you've got the hang of the basics."

Although encouraging, you couldn't push away the dreadful ache of guilt in your chest.

"That was the first time I'd ever had to kill one."

You speak up with a sad smile.

"Well..."

Phillip pauses, he gives you a look of understanding.

"I know it's hard... but sometimes we have to make those tough choices if we want to survive."

You thought back to Ghost again. Was his choice to leave you hard for him? Did he think he wouldn't survive if he stuck around?

"Phillip?"

You ask, almost hesitant to finish your question,

"How did you know about all of this?"

Phillip assumed you were referring to the guns and military camp.

"I was in the military... Before all this."

The answer hadn't exactly surprised you.

"The group you were with... Were they from the camp?"

He avoided eye contact with you deciding whether or not to answer you.

"No."

The answer was short and simple like he was holding back.

"But... back at the camp, you'd said that you weren't sure how much of the equipment would still be there. Does that mean you'd been there before?"

He sighed, it was obvious your curiosity had struck a nerve with him.

"Let's just say... I was in the city when it fell. It's not something I'd like to relive so, leave it at that... yeah?"

You had a lot more questions for him but, it didn't feel like a good time to push. So, instead, you changed the subject.

"Thank you."

Confused, Phillip raised his head looking at you over the fire.

"Without all your help... I probably wouldn't have made it today."

Phillip flashes one of his charming smiles. You were glad to see that he cheered up so quickly. He looked prideful even. Evidently, your thanks hadn't gone unappreciated.

"We all need help from time to time. It's like they say... Strength in numbers."

He explains. You smile back before letting your gaze fall. That rule may apply to all but Ghost. You thought.

PART 3.5 (optional) >> PART 4 >>

Tag list

@yourfavbabigirl @keiraslayz @dcnocap207 @dustycrusty09 @ihavetwoholesforareason @nicolebarnes

#cod au #zombie apocalypse au #cw: gore #graves x reader #ghost x female reader #mw2 fanfic #graves x female reader #phillip graves #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw3 #alkaline writes #☑️mstlst

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amethystarachnid · 2 months ago

Note

Would you consider involving Tony's parents in a one-shot? I've seen a few one-shots with his parents alive and being the best parents, and I really like that idea. If that's okay with you, I'd like to request 18. Resolution Reflections with Young!Tony Stark x f!Reader, his parents are throwing a New Year’s party and it's the first time Tony and Reader are spending it together and the first time she's going to his parents' house, they're going to love her and be proud of their son dating a good girl. At midnight, they share a kiss and their New Year’s resolutions/reflections, their shared dreams, and the promise to always achieve everything together, just pure fluff 🥰 and you can set in modern times, don't need to go back to the 90's 🥰

NEW YEAR EVE - part I

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Timeline: they're on their last year of high school

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.2k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Part II

ᯓ★ I think I went a little off track with this and I notice only now that the story is complete, I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you asked :(

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 invitation comes casually, like most things with Tony. He’s lounging on your bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other flicking a small gadget between his fingers—a prototype, no doubt, that he whipped up in his spare time. The room smells faintly of burnt solder, thanks to his earlier tinkering. You’re perched at your desk, trying to study, though it’s hard to focus with him stretched out there looking entirely too comfortable in your space.

“So,” he says, drawing the word out like he’s testing the waters. “What do you think about spending New Year’s Eve with me?”

Your pencil stills over your notes, and you glance at him with a raised brow. “That depends. What do you think about spending New Year’s Eve with me?”

He rolls his eyes, that playful grin pulling at his lips. “Obviously, I’m in. But there’s a catch.”

Your stomach flips a little, and you don’t know why. Tony catches your hesitation immediately because, of course, he always does. He props himself up on one elbow, his expression softening in a way that still catches you off guard, even after all this time.

“Hey,” he says, voice quieter now. “It’s nothing bad. I just… well, my parents are throwing their annual party, and I want you to come with me. Meet them.”

You blink, the words landing heavily in your chest. Meet them. As in Howard and Maria Stark. The man whose name is on every headline, whose brilliance (and sometimes questionable ethics) cast a shadow Tony can never quite escape. The woman who appears in magazine spreads looking flawless and untouchable, like a queen in designer couture.

“Tony…” you start, but he’s already scrambling off the bed, crossing the room to you in a few quick strides.

“Before you say no,” he interrupts, crouching beside your chair, “hear me out. They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not? You’re… you.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it’s more nervous than amused. “You’re biased.”

“Damn right I am.” He leans his chin on the edge of your desk, looking up at you with those warm brown eyes that can talk you into almost anything. “But I mean it. They’ve been bugging me to bring you around anyway. And this party? It’s just a bunch of people standing around drinking overpriced champagne and pretending to care about the ball drop. You’ll fit right in.”

Your chest tightens at the thought. Fit right in? Not likely. Tony’s world feels so far removed from yours sometimes, even if he never treats you that way. He’s always been good at making you feel like you belong, like it doesn’t matter that his idea of a normal day includes private jets and cutting-edge labs while yours involves coffee runs and library study marathons.

“I don’t know,” you say finally, chewing on your bottom lip. “What if they… what if I don’t make a good impression?”

Tony straightens up, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re nervous.”

“Of course I’m nervous!” you blurt, your voice higher-pitched than you’d like. “Your parents are—well, they’re them. What if they think I’m… I don’t know, not good enough for you?”

His expression shifts, and for a moment, you think you’ve offended him. But then he reaches for your hands, pulling you to your feet. His grip is warm, steady, grounding.

“Okay, first of all, no one gets to decide that but me,” he says firmly. “And second, they’re going to love you. Trust me.”

The way he says it—like it’s an unshakable truth—makes your heart squeeze. Tony Stark isn’t always the best at expressing his feelings, but when he does, it’s impossible not to believe him. Still, the idea of standing in a room full of people who know Tony as the heir to one of the biggest empires in the world feels daunting.

“I don’t even know what I’d wear,” you mumble, trying to stall.

Tony smirks, his usual cocky confidence slipping back into place. “Oh, that’s easy. I’ll pick something out for you.”

You narrow your eyes. “If it’s anything like that weird futuristic dress you sketched for me last month, I’m saying no.”

“Hey, that design was ahead of its time!” he protests, though he’s laughing. “But fine, we’ll shop together. Deal?”

You sigh, the fight slowly draining out of you. It’s hard to say no to Tony when he’s this determined. And, deep down, you know he means well. He wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t think you could handle it—or if he didn’t want you there.

“Okay,” you say at last, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go.”

The grin that spreads across his face is so boyish and unguarded, it almost makes you forget why you were worried in the first place. Almost.

The days leading up to the party pass in a blur of preparations. True to his word, Tony drags you to a boutique downtown, where he insists on finding the perfect outfit. It’s an exhausting ordeal—he vetoes nearly every dress you try on, claiming they don’t do you justice, until you finally settle on something sleek and elegant that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you won’t stick out like a sore thumb.

“You look amazing,” Tony says as you step out of the fitting room, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. “My parents won’t know what hit them.”

The night of the party arrives faster than you’d like. Tony picks you up in a sleek black car that’s almost too nice to sit in, dressed in a tailored suit that makes him look older, sharper, every bit the heir to Stark Industries. He whistles low when he sees you, offering his arm with a grin.

“Ready to make an entrance?” he asks, though he doesn’t wait for your answer before leading you to the car.

By the time you reach the Stark mansion, your nerves are a full-blown storm. The house is enormous, glowing with warm light against the crisp winter night. Guests in designer gowns and tuxedos mill about on the front steps, sipping champagne and exchanging pleasantries that sound more polished than genuine.

Tony squeezes your hand as you step inside, his touch a lifeline. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the low hum of jazz music. You spot waiters gliding through the crowd with trays of hors d’oeuvres that look too pretty to eat.

He leads you through the crowd with ease, pausing now and then to exchange pleasantries with people who seem eager to talk to him. You’re introduced as “Y/N,” no titles, no qualifiers, just your name. It’s both comforting and terrifying.

And then, there they are—Howard and Maria Stark. They’re standing near the grand staircase, an impressive pair that commands attention without even trying. Howard is tall and broad-shouldered, his sharp suit and carefully combed hair giving him an air of authority. Maria, by contrast, is elegant and understated, her smile polite but unreadable.

“Mom, Dad,” Tony says as you approach. “This is Y/N.”

Maria’s gaze softens as it lands on you, and she extends a perfectly manicured hand. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” she says, her tone warm but measured.

Howard offers a nod, his smile faint but not unkind. “Tony’s told us a lot about you.”

Your stomach twists, but you manage a smile, hoping it looks more confident than you feel. “It’s nice to meet you both,” you say, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

Tony’s hand brushes yours, a small, reassuring gesture that grounds you in the moment. For now, it’s enough.

Maria’s handshake is delicate but firm, her presence somehow simultaneously inviting and intimidating. As she releases your hand, you see her eyes flicker toward Tony, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Howard’s nod is accompanied by a polite once-over, as if he’s quietly assessing you but doing so in a way that doesn’t feel overly critical. For all your nerves, the atmosphere is not as icy as you had feared. Yet you’re acutely aware of the importance of this moment—these people are more than Tony’s parents. They’re titans of industry, figures who seem untouchable from a distance, and now they’re looking at you like they’re ready to get to know you.

“So,” Maria says, her voice smooth and composed, “we’ve been hearing about you for months now. It’s lovely to finally put a face to the name.”

“It’s lovely to meet you too,” you reply, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the butterflies rioting in your stomach. “Tony speaks about you often as well.”

Tony lets out a short laugh beside you, clearly amused. “Not too much, I hope. Don’t want to ruin the mystique.”

Maria chuckles lightly, her sharp eyes twinkling with subtle amusement. “Oh, I think we can handle it. So, tell us a bit about yourself, dear. Where do you come from? What’s your family like?”

It’s a straightforward question, but it feels loaded under the circumstances. Still, you’re determined to make a good impression.

“Well, I’m from Midtown,” you begin, smoothing the fabric of your dress unconsciously. “My family’s pretty small—just me, my mom, and my younger brother. My mom works as a nurse, and my brother’s still in middle school.”

Maria’s smile doesn’t waver, and there’s a flicker of interest in her expression. “That must keep your mother very busy. Nursing is such an admirable profession.”

“It does,” you agree, your confidence bolstered by her genuine tone. “She works long hours, but she’s amazing. She’s always been my role model.”

Howard’s deep voice cuts in next, not unkind but more direct. “And what about you? Tony mentioned you’re quite the student. What are your plans after high school?”

You glance at Tony briefly, catching the way he’s watching you—there’s a quiet pride in his eyes, a silent encouragement that steadies your nerves. Turning back to Howard, you answer honestly.

“I’m planning to go to college,” you say. “I’ve applied to a few schools already. I’m hoping to major in environmental science… maybe engineering. I’ve always loved the idea of building things or coming up with solutions to problems.”

Maria tilts her head slightly, her smile deepening. “Engineering? That’s wonderful. And very fitting, given who you’re dating,” she teases lightly, her gaze sliding toward Tony.

Tony grins, unfazed. “What can I say? I’ve got a type. Brilliant and beautiful.”

You roll your eyes at his shamelessness, but Howard chuckles, his posture relaxing slightly. “Good answer,” he says, clearly pleased with his son’s response. He turns back to you. “Environmental science, though. That’s not the most common choice. Why that field?”

You take a deep breath, finding your footing as the conversation shifts into territory you’re passionate about. “I’ve always cared about the environment,” you say. “I think it’s one of the biggest challenges our generation will face. And I want to be part of the solution. Whether it’s renewable energy, conservation, or designing more sustainable technology… it feels like something that matters.”

Maria’s gaze softens, and she exchanges a look with Howard. There’s something unspoken between them, an understanding that passes with a single glance. When Maria speaks again, her voice is warm, almost approving.

“That’s a very admirable goal. And one that’s becoming more important by the day.”

Howard nods in agreement, his demeanor shifting slightly as if he’s already decided you’re worth listening to. “It’s good to hear someone your age thinking about the bigger picture. Too many people overlook that kind of thing.”

You smile, your nerves easing with each passing moment. Their approval feels genuine, not forced or obligatory, and it gives you the confidence to keep going.

“I think it helps to have people around who believe in you,” you say, glancing at Tony again. “He’s been a big part of that for me.”

Tony’s grin widens, and he slips an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer. “Don’t let her fool you,” he says. “She’s the one with the brilliant ideas. I’m just lucky to be around to hear them.”

Maria’s laugh is soft, but her eyes are bright as she watches the two of you. “You two seem very good for each other. It’s always nice to see that kind of balance in a relationship.”

Howard’s voice carries a hint of approval as he adds, “Tony’s lucky to have found someone like you. I’m glad he has someone who’s keeping him grounded.”

The words catch you off guard, but they warm you from the inside out. It’s the kind of sentiment you’d hoped for but hadn’t dared to expect. Tony, for all his bravado, has always had a complicated relationship with his parents. Hearing his father speak so openly about his pride in Tony’s choices feels significant, like a rare glimpse into a side of their dynamic you don’t often see.

“I’m lucky too,” you say softly, meeting Howard’s eyes. “Tony’s brilliant. And he’s always pushing me to do better, to think bigger. I think that’s what makes us work so well together.”

Tony’s arm tightens around you briefly, and you catch the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck. It’s rare to see him speechless, but the pride in his expression is unmistakable.

Maria’s smile grows, and she steps forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “You’re a lovely young woman,” she says sincerely. “And it’s clear you mean a great deal to Tony. Thank you for joining us tonight.”

The warmth in her words makes your chest ache in the best way. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been craving their approval until now, but the genuine kindness in Maria’s tone makes it all the more meaningful.

“Thank you for having me,” you reply, your voice steady despite the swell of emotion. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you both.”

Howard steps forward then, offering his hand again. This time, his grip feels a touch more personal, less perfunctory. “Keep an eye on him for us,” he says, a glint of humor in his eyes. “Lord knows he needs it.”

Tony groans dramatically. “Okay, okay, that’s enough parental bonding. Can we go check out the snack table now?”

Maria laughs softly, waving you off with a graceful flick of her hand. “Go, enjoy yourselves. We’ll talk more later.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice. He takes your hand, leading you away from the crowd and toward the quieter corner of the expansive room. Once you’re out of earshot, he stops, turning to face you with a mischievous grin.

“So? How’d I do?”

You blink, caught off guard. “You? What do you mean?”

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I mean, did I pick the right moment to introduce you? Were the lighting and ambiance sufficiently romantic? Did I sell my pitch as the proud boyfriend?”

You laugh, the last of your nerves melting away. “You were perfect, Stark. But your parents? They’re…”

“Scary? Intimidating? Too good at making you feel like they’re reading your mind?” he offers, grinning when you nod.

“A little,” you admit. “But they were also… really nice. I think it went well.”

Tony’s expression softens, his cocky façade dropping for a moment. “Of course it did. They’d have to be crazy not to love you.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you,” he replies, his grin turning wicked. “Now, come on. Let’s grab some dessert before my dad ropes us into a conversation about corporate ethics.”

As he pulls you toward the snack table, his hand warm in yours, you realize that the evening is far from over—but for the first time, you’re not worried. Tony’s world may be big and overwhelming, but tonight, it feels like you belong there. And as you glance back to see Maria and Howard watching you both with quiet pride, you think they might just believe that too.

The grandeur of the Stark residence is even more overwhelming as the evening progresses. Every corner of the room seems to hold someone important, conversations buzzing with words like "stocks," "mergers," and "international markets." It’s a world you’re still adjusting to, and though Tony has never made you feel out of place, you can’t shake the occasional pang of self-consciousness.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom gives you a moment to breathe, away from the intensity of the crowd. You splash a little water on your wrists and smooth down your dress, giving yourself a pep talk in the mirror. You’ve already managed to win over his parents—something you hadn’t expected to happen so easily. Surely, you can handle the rest of the evening. After all, Tony is by your side.

When you step back into the main room, the sight of him immediately draws your attention. He’s standing near a sleek bar setup, surrounded by a small group of men in sharply tailored suits. Even in this crowd of CEOs and industry giants, Tony stands out. His confidence is palpable, his charisma effortlessly commanding the attention of those around him. You hesitate, unsure whether to approach. They’re deep in conversation, and the last thing you want is to interrupt or seem out of place.

For a moment, you consider waiting on the sidelines until the discussion wraps up. But as if sensing your presence, Tony glances up, his eyes finding yours almost instantly. A slow, warm smile spreads across his face, and he waves you over with a subtle beckon. The gesture feels intimate, personal—a quiet reassurance that no matter who he’s with, you’re always welcome.

As you approach, Tony’s smile deepens. When you’re close enough, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “There you are,” he murmurs, his voice low but unmistakably fond.

One of the men in the circle clears his throat, and you notice his expression shift into something between surprise and discomfort. He’s older, probably in his fifties, with a thin mustache and a stiff posture that screams corporate formality.

“I wasn’t aware you had… company tonight, Stark,” the man says, his tone carefully measured.

Tony smirks, clearly unbothered. “This is my girlfriend,” he says simply, his arm slipping around your waist. The ease with which he says it sends a thrill through you, though the reaction from the group is mixed.

“Your girlfriend?” another man echoes, his brows lifting in surprise. He looks between you and Tony, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. “Forgive me for asking, but whose daughter are you?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “Oh, I’m not…” you begin, glancing at Tony for help.

“She’s not anyone’s daughter in this room, if that’s what you’re asking,” Tony interjects smoothly, his tone laced with just enough edge to make it clear he doesn’t appreciate the implication. “She’s here because she’s incredible, not because of her last name.”

The mustachioed man—Mr. Carmichael, you think you heard someone call him earlier—looks visibly taken aback. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”

Tony cuts him off with a light laugh, though there’s an unmistakable sharpness beneath it. “Relax, Carmichael. I get it. You thought I’d be interested in your pitch about your daughter. Honestly, I’m flattered, but as you can see, I’m pretty happy with my current situation.”

The color drains from Carmichael’s face, and the rest of the group shifts awkwardly, clearly unsure how to proceed. You feel a mix of emotions—embarrassment, yes, but also a fierce kind of pride. Tony’s confidence in you, his unwavering refusal to let anyone question your place by his side, makes you stand a little taller.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, trying to smooth over the tension. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Tony says firmly, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Then, addressing the group, he adds, “Actually, I think you guys might want to hear from her. She’s planning to study environmental science and engineering. Pretty smart, huh?”

The shift in the room is almost comical. Where moments ago they seemed skeptical, even dismissive, now their expressions are filled with curiosity.

“Environmental science?” one of them repeats, his tone suddenly much friendlier. “That’s an interesting field. Are you planning to focus on renewable energy?”

You nod, a little hesitant but grateful for the opportunity to steer the conversation into more comfortable territory. “That’s one of the areas I’m really interested in,” you say. “There’s so much potential for innovation, especially with the way technology is advancing. I think it’s one of the most important challenges we can address.”

The man—his name tag reads “Jameson”—nods thoughtfully. “Smart choice. The industry’s going to need more forward thinkers like you.”

“Thank you,” you say, the praise giving you a small boost of confidence.

“And you’re still in high school?” another man asks, his tone tinged with disbelief.

“Yes,” you admit. “Tony and I are in the same grade.”

Carmichael, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, finally speaks up. “High school, and you’re already thinking about global challenges like that. That’s… impressive.”

You’re not sure if his approval is entirely genuine or if he’s simply trying to recover from his earlier misstep, but either way, you offer him a polite smile. “It’s something I’m passionate about. And I’m lucky to have people around me who encourage me to aim high.”

Tony beams at that, his pride in you practically radiating. “She’s underselling it,” he says. “She’s not just aiming high; she’s going to change the world.”

The men laugh, but it’s not mocking—it’s the kind of laugh that comes with genuine admiration. For the first time, you feel like you belong in this circle, like they’re starting to see you as more than just Tony’s girlfriend.

The conversation continues, flowing more easily now. They ask about your thoughts on sustainability, your experiences in school, and even your plans for college. With each question, you find yourself relaxing, the initial tension fading as you focus on the topics you’re passionate about. Tony stays by your side the whole time, chiming in occasionally with his trademark wit but mostly letting you shine.

At one point, Jameson leans closer to Tony and mutters something you can’t quite catch. Whatever it is, it makes Tony laugh—a genuine, delighted sound that makes your heart skip a beat.

When the group finally disperses, Carmichael offers you a polite nod. “It was a pleasure meeting you,” he says, his tone markedly more respectful than when the conversation began.

“You too,” you reply, feeling a small sense of victory as he walks away.

Once you’re alone with Tony, he turns to you with a grin. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t hide your smile. “I think they were just surprised. They probably expected you to be dating someone… different.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“I don’t know. Someone from their world, I guess.”

He shakes his head, his expression turning serious. “You don’t have to be from their world to belong in it. You’re amazing, and if they can’t see that, it’s their loss.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You lean into him, letting his warmth and confidence steady you. “Thank you,” you say softly.

“For what?” he asks, his tone lightening again.

“For making me feel like I belong here,” you admit. “Even when I’m not sure I do.”

Tony presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You don’t just belong here,” he says. “You make this place better. Don’t ever forget that.”

As the evening continues, you find yourself settling into the rhythm of it all. The grandeur of the event doesn’t feel quite so intimidating anymore, and every time you catch Tony’s eye, you’re reminded of why you’re here. In his world, by his side, you feel like you truly belong.

The night unfolds in a swirl of laughter, conversation, and the occasional clink of glasses. You find yourself more comfortable now, moving through the party with Tony’s reassuring presence at your side. The grandiose world of the Starks—one that had once felt so intimidating—begins to feel a little more approachable. With Tony holding your hand or whispering jokes into your ear at every turn, it feels like you’re in on some kind of secret.

Eventually, you find yourselves slipping away from the crowd. The party hums on in the background, the faint strains of a string quartet mingling with the murmur of voices and the distant pop of champagne corks. Tony leads you down a quieter hallway, away from the main rooms, until you’re standing in front of a set of tall windows that overlook the sprawling grounds of the estate.

“Needed a breather?” you tease as he presses his forehead to the cool glass.

He glances at you, grinning. “I thought you might need one. Not that you weren’t killing it back there, but, you know, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to step away from the CEOs and their unsolicited opinions.”

You laugh softly, crossing your arms as you lean against the window beside him. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I think I actually had fun.”

Tony straightens, his expression softening as he looks at you. “I knew you’d be amazing. I don’t think there’s anyone who can’t see it.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays your attempt to brush off the compliment. “You’re biased.”

“Absolutely,” he admits without hesitation. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

The glow from the lights outside casts his features in a warm hue, and for a moment, you lose yourself in the way he’s looking at you. There’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache in the best way—a feeling that no matter how big his world is, you’ll always have a place in it.

“What about you?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Do you ever feel like you need a breather from all… this?”

He tilts his head, considering the question. “Sometimes. But you make it easier. When you’re here, it feels less like a circus and more like…” He trails off, his lips quirking into a wry smile. “I don’t know. Like it’s something I actually want to be part of.”

Your heart skips a beat at his honesty. “Tony Stark, are you saying I make you want to behave?”

“Let’s not go crazy,” he says with a laugh, though there’s a glimmer of seriousness in his eyes. “But yeah. You keep me grounded. And you remind me that there’s more to life than just impressing a room full of people.”

He reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. For a while, you stand there together, watching the stars outside and enjoying the rare quiet moment. The faint sounds of the party drift down the hall, but here, it feels like it’s just the two of you.

“Do you think we’ll still be doing this ten years from now?” you ask suddenly, the question slipping out before you can think too much about it.

Tony doesn’t hesitate. “I hope so. But maybe not this.” He gestures vaguely toward the distant murmur of the party. “Something better. Something ours.”

You glance at him, surprised by the depth of his response. “Ours?”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone casual but his gaze steady. “Like, I don’t know… maybe a New Year’s Eve on a beach somewhere. Or in some cabin in the mountains. Just us. No suits, no CEOs. Just you and me.”

The thought makes your cheeks warm. “That sounds… perfect.”

He grins, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Then we’ll make it happen.”

For a while, you stay tucked away in your little corner, stealing a moment that feels like it belongs entirely to you. Tony tells you a ridiculous story about one of his father’s business trips, and you counter with a memory from a summer vacation when you and your brother tried to camp in your backyard but got scared off by a raccoon. You laugh until your sides hurt, your voices low and close in the quiet hallway.

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Tony reluctantly pulls you back toward the main event. The energy in the room has shifted, the hum of anticipation building as the new year approaches. Guests gather in clusters, glasses of sparkling cider in hand, their conversations a little louder and their laughter a little freer.

Tony finds a spot near the center of the room, his hand never leaving yours as he leads you to stand by his side. The two of you are surrounded by a sea of faces, but all you can focus on is him.

“Two minutes to go,” he murmurs, glancing down at you with a small smile. “You ready?”

“For the new year?” you ask, feigning nonchalance. “I guess.”

He nudges you gently. “For everything. This year, next year… all of it.”

Your breath catches at the weight of his words, but before you can respond, the countdown begins.

“Ten! Nine!”

The voices swell around you, and you feel Tony’s hand tighten slightly around yours.

“Eight! Seven! Six!”

You glance up at him, and the way he’s looking at you makes the rest of the room fade away.

“Five! Four!”

Your heart pounds in your chest, each second stretching out as the moment draws closer.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

The room erupts in cheers, the sound of voices and clinking glasses filling the air. But all you notice is Tony as he leans in, his free hand cupping your cheek as his lips meet yours. It’s a kiss that feels like a promise—a declaration that no matter what the new year brings, you’ll face it together.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, and his voice is soft, just for you. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

“Happy New Year,” you whisper back, your cheeks warm and your heart full.

The noise around you gradually fades into the background as the two of you share a quiet moment in the middle of the bustling crowd.

“So,” Tony says, his tone lighter now, “what’s your resolution?”

You think for a moment before answering. “To keep chasing my dreams. And to make sure we never lose sight of ours.”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I like that. Mine’s to make sure you know how proud I am of you every single day. And… maybe to be a little less reckless.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

He laughs, the sound warm and familiar. “Hey, I’m a work in progress.”

You shake your head, but your smile lingers. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“Always,” he says, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

The two of you stand there for a while longer, watching as the party continues around you. People laugh, toast, and embrace, the room alive with celebration. But in your little bubble, it feels like the world has stopped.

As the night winds down, Tony pulls you close, his arm draped around your shoulders as you lean against him. The future feels vast and uncertain, but with him by your side, you’re not afraid. Together, you’ll face whatever comes next—one dream, one resolution, and one New Year’s kiss at a time.

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ffleurist · 1 year ago

Text

YOU ALWAYS HAD ME — synopsis: what would you do if your hot best friend agreed to fake date you to make your ex-boyfriend jealous? will it ruin your friendship or will it prevail into something more?

⤿ [ 11 ] timestamps do not matter.

One of your favourite things you did growing up to find solace outside of your rowdy home was sitting by the porch, drinking in the starry night above you. Usually, you had company; your Persian cat, Kiki who has found herself a new owner; Gojo Satoru.

“What’s going on that pretty little head of yours?” Your thoughts, are instantly broken by the low yet smoky voice of the man you were falling in love with. — your best friend, your fake boyfriend.

“Nothing”

“Lies. I’ve been searching everywhere for you but then your kind mother told me this is your favourite spot.” You felt the plank beneath you creak and found yourself a new company.

“You were looking for me?” Your voice came out barely a whisper.

Tucking away the strands of hair behind your ear, “Yeah?.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

So did the clock.

10 minutes till Midnight.

“Can we end this, Satoru?”

“What?”

"You heard me."

"So that’s on your mind? Is that why you invited me here? To break up with me in front of your family's porch? Or did Toji text you back? I-"

"Satoru, do you want to know what I dislike about you?"

"If it's me stealing your chocolates, I'm sorry. Please don't end this"

You cupped his face, the warmth from the contact of your hands and his face kept you alive. He looks so cute with his face being squashed. His bright blue eyes on you, pouting.

"Wrong. I don't like it when you cut me off and you’re so dramatic ‘toru! Toji hasn’t texted me since forever! But it doesn’t matter anyway because I love you."

His pout, was instantly replaced with a smile like a kid who got candy from his mother.

"Then will you shut me up by kissing m-"

You threw your body weight on him, snaking your arms around his neck, playing with the underside of his undercut. It's so hot. Supposedly a small fleeting kiss immediately turned into a passionate heated kiss, outside your family's porch.

You gasped in surprise at the sensation of his hands tucking underneath your shirt, pinching your skin.

The kiss that breaks apart, left you both catching for air.

Removing his hands that previously rested under your shirt, sliding in your palms, stroking your hands with his thumb.

"You're so cute. I like the taste of your lips on mine. And I love you too, YN. Always have been, ever since high school. We grew up together so technically, I watched you grow up heh. Watching you have your first boyfriend broke my heart, but if that was the price for me to pay seeing you so happy, I'd gladly break my heart a thousand times over. But a part of me wished it was me who made you smile. So when he broke your heart, it was as if the whole world just crashed on me. You, out of everyone deserve so much love."

Like as if that wasn't enough to tug your heartstrings,

"YN, can I be your boyfriend? I'll love you with everything that I have, I promise."

“Here’s a pen for you baby”

“What for?”

“Hmm? To tick off the the rest of your checklist sweetheart”

hiiii …. 🫣🫣🫣 imcoming fluff chapters enjoy it while it lasts. i love them sm omg. pls ignore the fact that it’s almost feb.. and im posting abt new years HAHAHA the nicknames!!!! i hope it’s not too rush omds..

💞 in the title means new years special hehe

taglist: @hexrts-anatomy @k4romis @soy-garbage @avatar-of-procrastination @lees-chaotic-brain @pastatata @maybe-a-bi-witch @vivi-loves-penguins @reagan707 @iluv-ace @dazaisfavgf @tiredflame132 @dreamxiing @inorixonline

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la-petite-lapin · 1 year ago

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Double the Love | Part Three

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 1.8k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of poor mental health, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings, Johnny is a big softie

The guys have a chill day

Ghost yells in his sleep.

I find that out on the second night. His screams wake me up, practically vibrating through the walls of the apartment. I lie awake in bed, not knowing what to do, listening to the faint sounds of Johnny's voice as he consoles him. After a while, a buzzing silence fills the room again.

It takes me a while longer to realise that I won't be able to fall asleep again. Instead, I creep out into the kitchen. It's just gone six a.m. so I just decide to start the day early.

I make myself a mug of hot chocolate - try not to think of those ungodly, heart-wrenching screams - and switch on the TV at a low volume to try and fill the silence. I scroll through my emails, double-checking that the small interior design company I joined last year is doing okay.

This is the first time I've taken any time off since I started. According to my wonderful manager, I deserve a break so they're making me use some of my annual holiday up - meaning I should have two perfect weeks of uninterrupted rest time. Originally, I intended to spend it alone, binging on TV shows and slouching around the apartment in my PJs. Now, it looks like I'll be spending it with two soldiers.

A message alert appears across the top of my screen, so I click on it while I wait for the milk to finish heating up.

JOHN PRICE: Hey Tali, how's it going over there? TALIA KELLER: So far so good. TALIA KELLER: Ghost has night terrors. Johnny seems like he knows what to do though. JOHN PRICE: Ah, yeah. JOHN PRICE: They're getting better. Slowly though.

Jesus. If that was "getting better", then I dread to think what bad looks like.

JOHN PRICE: You're okay with them though? TALIA KELLER: Yeah, it's fine :)

I finish making my hot chocolate then take a seat in my armchair, savouring the low hum of the TV with my eyes closed as I drink. When I'm done, with a belly full of hot chocolate, I start to fall asleep again. I'm almost gone when I hear the soft squeak of a door opening in the hallway.

"Tali? a Scottish-accented voice whispers in the darkness.

I turn around, glancing over the high back of my chair. A pair of blue eyes meet mine. Johnny stands in the hallway, dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt, his expression one of concern. He looks tired; his hair sticking up at odd angles. I can see the padding of the thick gauze bandage over one side of his ribs through his shirt.

"Hey," I say softly, not knowing what else to say.

Johnny bobs his head. After a moment of hesitation, he joins me in the living room, dropping down onto the sofa with a quiet oof. "We woke ye up, didn't we?"

I nod. "Don't worry about it. I'm a light sleeper anyway."

The answering frown that forms on his lips makes me wish I'd just lied. "'m sorry. He hasn't been that bad recently. I think it's being in a new place that's making it worse. He should settle down soon."

"Seriously, don't worry about it."

A beat of silence passes before I say, "So... tell me about you and Ghost."

And, just like that, the discomfort in Johnny's expression melts. His eyes glow with pure adoration, flickering behind me in the direction of their room.

I don't know how much he can tell me - their unit seems pretty secretive, and Ghost seems rather content on keeping me as far removed from their lives as humanly possible - but it's worth a shot. Johnny always seems happy and at ease wherever Ghost is concerned. It's not something that I personally can fathom; Ghost has never made me feel anything other than uneasy.

"We met in the 141. He's my L.T., so it's a bit frowned upon, but we keep ourselves to ourselves so it's never really a problem. On base, we aren't out." A flash of something passes across his face, disappearing almost as quickly at it came. Something akin to disappointment. "John and our mate Gaz are the only people who know 'bout us. Ghost 'as always been private. I did'nae expect anything else."

The corner of my mouth lifts in a half-smile. I pull my legs up to sit cross-legged in the armchair and tilt my head to one side. "I can't imagine him being particularly soft or cuddly."

Johnny barks out a loud laugh. "Nah, that's me. S- Ghost isn't very affectionate. Not physically, anyway. More like acts of service and words of affirmation. That kind of stuff."

"So, what brought you all back to London then?"

"I almost got gutted on our last mission. We're lucky tha's all that happened." He grimaces and lets out a deep sigh, lifting one massive hand to massage his temples. With one hand over his ribs, he settles back against the sofa cushions. "Everything went to shit. Ghost won't admit it, but he's aggravated some old injuries too. And we lost a pilot, and three allied soldiers..."

Alex's face flashes in my mind. His light brown hair mused and messy, his beard short and scruffy - just the way he liked it. The soft, twinkling glow of amusement dancing in his eyes...

"Does that happen often? Losses," I ask before I can think. I don't really want to know - don't want to upset Johnny or hear how common it was for good men to die. Like I don't already know.

Just like that, he's frowning again. "Don't worry 'bout it, lassie. Prolly shouldn't 've said anything. Ruined the moment."

I lift one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "It's fine."

We sit in silence after that, watching TV as we wait for Ghost to wake up.

By day four, I have a budding friendship with Johnny. We have inside jokes and a handshake. We've even started mirroring some of each other's mannerisms.

I also know that Ghost doesn't like it.

It's around lunchtime when John and another guy - someone else I don't recognise - show up at the apartment, laden with six packs of beer and bags of snack foods. I let them in with a bewildered laugh. The second John's through the door, he pulls me into his arms for one of his signature bear hugs.

"Oh Tali, how I've missed you." The words are mumbled into my hair as I let out a soft giggle, squealing as he lifts me off of my feet.

"I've missed you too. Now put me down before you break a hip, old man."

By the time he's set me back down, the boys are already making themselves at home in the open plan kitchen. Johnny moves around sorting various snack foods onto plates and into bowls, gliding with the confidence of someone who's lived here for years, not days. His other friend - a man with dark, curly hair tucked for the most part under a baseball cap, and dark, expressive eyes - stands back, leaning against the counter with an open can in one hand, taking sips of beer between speaking. Then there's Ghost, leaning against the opposite counter, eyes never straying far from Johnny.

"How have they been?" John asks, his voice low and quiet as he watches the boys interacting in the kitchen.

I offer him a reassuring smile. "They've been okay. Johnny has a brilliant sense of humour; I like him."

John smiles. "Thought you would."

"What are you two ladies gossiping about?" a voice calls from the kitchen, the words laced with an east London accent. I glance up to see the newcomer looking at me, eyes glittering with interest. He must be the local John was talking about when he first called me about the boys.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I say, wiggling my eyebrows.

Johnny's own eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, his mouth quivering before an extremely loud, abrupt laugh bursts out of it. "Well she got you there, Gaz."

Gaz. The last remaining member of Alex's unit that I had yet to meet.

"Where are my manners?" Gaz walks around from behind the kitchen counter, coming to stand in the living area with me and John. He extends a calloused hand for me to shake, offering me a boyishly charming smile as I do. "Name's Kyle Garrick, but everyone just calls me Gaz. Feel free to call me whatever; I'll probably answer to it. What's your name?"

"Tali."

His grin widens. "Nice to meet you, Tali."

I return his grin. "Likewise."

With that, moving with the same natural easiness as Johnny, Gaz walks back to his spot in the kitchen, picking up his beer and taking another sip. I meet Johnny's eyes, noting the reassuring smile and nod that he flashes in my direction. But that also means that I catch the scowl coming from Ghost.

The whole interaction makes me realise a couple of things.

One: Ghost does not particularly like me. Two: Ghost could give me his real name, he just chooses not to. It seems like he wants nothing more than to remain at this level of impersonal with me for the entire duration of his stay, unlike Johnny who seems dead-set on getting to know me. In the four days that they've been here, I still haven't gotten a clear look at Ghost's face. The whole time, he's been wearing a hood to cover up or - most days - a surgical mask to cover the lower half of his face. Anything to keep me at arm's length.

"Hey, pretty lass, do you want a beer?"

My eyes fall on Johnny and the two cans in his hands. There's a hopeful look on his face that makes me nod yes. With a smooth underarm throw, he tosses me a can and flashes me another broad grin.

"Do you mind if we hang out here for a bit?" John asks softly, just for me to hear. When I look up at him, his expression tells me that if I ask him to leave, they will. No questions asked. "There's a footie game on and Gaz wanted to watch it with the lads. It's a tradition we normally do on base, but I'm sure we could find a pub playing it or something."

"Watch it here." I genuinely want them to. I want to spend time with them; want to see how they all interact. And I've missed hanging out with John while he's been away. There's also a small, selfish part of me that wants to see how they all fit as a team. To see if I can spot the gap in the dynamic where Alex would have slotted in; to see what his life would have been like in those last few weeks. "Maybe I want to watch it too. If that's okay."

"Of course it's okay." John's arm wraps around my shoulders. "Which reminds me. Ghost and Soap might need somewhere to stay for the long haul. At least until Soap is fully healed, that is."

I nod slowly. "And you want them to stay here?"

"Would that be okay with you?"

I glance across to the kitchen, watching Johnny and Gaz playfight under Ghost's watchful eye. Even messing around, they're respectful; keeping a mindful distance from anything fragile or expensive. As much as I hate to say it, I'm growing used to Johnny's constant playful presence in the apartment. Even Ghost's brooding is starting to grow on me.

"I think I like having them here. As long as they're both happy, they can stay as long as they like. I can talk to Winnie about logistics if it comes to it."

John nods, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards. "They both seem happy here, Tali. Ghost seems relaxed; that hardly ever happens."

Really? If this is Ghost relaxed then I'd hate to see him stressed.

"Again, ladies?" Gaz heckles playfully. He folds his arms across his chest, clicking his tongue and shaking his head like a disappointed parent.

At that, John straightens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We might be off duty, but I'm still your captain, sergeant. Now - all of you get your arses in here."

The three of them head into the living room, filling the coffee table with cans and the various bowls that they've prepared. One by one, they choose their seats for the next couple of hours. As Gaz tries to drop down into my armchair, Ghost shoots him a pointed look, and he opts to sit on the floor instead, eyes twinkling once again.

Hm.

"Right, now everybody shut y'er mouths. I'm putting the game on."

And, with that, Johnny lines up the football on the sports channel and we all settle in.

a/n: happy new year guys! hope you all enjoy this chapter. I know that it's a bit shorter than the last one, but I'm currently battling with a mild case of writer's block this is also a repost as tumblr decided to not show this the first time around - hope to see you all again very soon, lapetitelapin :)

#cod #fanfic #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon “ghost” riley x reader #soap x reader #callofduty #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost x reader #female reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny x reader x simon #angst #romance #johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #double the love

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