#latest project with kiddos

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Chapter 7

Summary: You struggle to relax as you recover from an injury.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

This chapter contains some badly written smut

Wanda is enjoying this far more than you. Having you home 24/7 seems like a luxury that won’t last long and she’s relishing every second of it.

You, on the other hand, are acting like a caged lion, restless and always looking for ways to pass time, though options are limited with your healing shoulder and bruised body.

This morning, you opted for a stroll while Wanda worked on some sketches. The woman has to do a double take when she’s on a coffee break, because it’s been 40 minutes since you left. And there’s only so much walking a person can do in this neighbourhood.

The answer lies a few houses down the block. Wanda’s walking and looking for you when she spots you in the porch of Agatha’s home. Mrs. Hart and Dottie are there as well, cups of tea and biscuits in a table.

You’re taking Mrs. Hart blood pressure, while she keeps talking about her latest medical appointment.

“Sweetheart” Wanda calls for you. “I need your help in the kitchen”

“Oh, Wanda, I’m so sorry. Y/N here was just walking by and we got talking. She’s so brave for saving that man’s life” Agatha places her hand in your bicep, slightly hoping it annoys Wanda.

“Yes, she is. But now she needs to rest”

“Ladies” you greet, standing up and sighing as you go down the steps. “Sorry” you mutter to Wanda.

“No need to apologize” she stands on her toes to peck your lips. You smile, taking her hand as you both walk back home.

“Next time you’re around I’ll need a physical exam, Doc” Agatha calls and Wanda is about to turn and tell her off when you pull her.

“Nu-uh. Let’s go” you say, sincerely afraid of Harkness.

Wanda remains silent for the rest of the walk and you think she might be upset. That is, until you close the door behind you and are abruptly pushed against it, Wanda’s hand pulling down on your shirt possesively.

“Do I need to tie you up?”

“I wouldn’t mind”

“That’s not what I meant”

“But, baby…”

“You’re still recovering” she warns, but you can tell she is considering it.

“My mouth is fine”  you whine as her lips approach yours. “Please, I have all this pent up energy, and I need some release”

“Is that what you need? Release?”

“Mhm” you nod, your nose bumping against hers.

“Fine” she finally kisses you, and it turns frantic. Wanda starts leading you upstairs, but you shake your head no, going for the couch instead. With the hand that isn’t in the arm sling, you tug at her yoga pants and she slips them down her beautiful legs, panties following suit.

“Come on, here’s your seat” you say, laying down on the couch. Wanda lowers herself, and almost screams when she feels your tongue working quickly around her bundle of nerves.

Without thinking, you suck harder and let your teeth graze her clit, but the feeling of pleasure is so unexpected that Wanda’s legs close around your neck, her knee digging in your bad shoulder.

“Ow, time out” you plead, pain shooting down your arm.

“I’m sorry, I…” Wanda pushes the hair out of her face, looking at you worriedly. “Are you ok? Should we go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine. No need to go and ruin Darcy’s day with the details of our sexcapades, my love”

“You sure?”

“Yes, come here” you ask, and she hesitates, until you pull her down to lie next to you on her couch. Realising she’s naked from the waist down, your hand travels to her ass, looking to squeeze the soft flesh.

“Stop” she warns with her mom voice. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. I thought I broke your neck a second ago”

“What a way to go” you joke, smiling as Wanda laughs against you.

—

Billy writes down in his notebook and you squint your eyes. Fractions are horrible, and how you wish you were helping Tommy with his art project instead.

So, you check the exercise again and sigh.

“I think that’s right, kiddo”

“You sure?”

How bad would it be to say “not at all”? You figure it wouldn’t be wise considering you’re the adult in the room, so you rub your eyes instead.

“I’ll check again after dinner, ok?” you promise, Wanda telling them to go wash their hands.

Going down the stairs, you find your girlfriend in the kitchen. She’s made an effort to cook anything you’re craving, and tonight’s feast is roast beef with potatoes.

“Delicious” you comment, pulling her so she’s pressing against your front.

“Thank you, I think you’ll like it”

“Wasn’t talking about the food” you pull her hair to the side, clearing the path to litter her neck with open mouthed kisses. “I’m not giving up on this even after what happened earlier”

“You mean how I almost broke your neck?”

“Almost being the key word, baby”

The protest dies in her lips as the kids join you in the kitchen. They set the table for the four of you, doing everything they can to keep you from hurting yourself.

Even as Wanda insists on slicing your portion, you drop the armsling, because you’re very picky about the way you cut your meat.

“Childish” she mutters under her breath and you glare, but smile the same.

Dinner is the usual stuff about classes, the upcoming school trip and how Billy thinks you’re so good with fractions.

They’re in the process of getting ready for bed when you Google the answers to the math exercises, and you’re only wrong twice.

Oh, well.

Once the kids are tucked in, you go back downstairs to clean up, Wanda following suit.

“Please let me”

“Come on, I gotta do something around the house”

“You already helped with Billy’s homework”

“Oh, that. I can’t wait for them to start doing square roots so I’m banging my head against the table”

Wanda laughs at that, settling on the countertop as you wash dishes.

“Yeah, I guess you missed the time where homework was easy. Like coloring, or learning vowels”

“Sounds better than fractions” you recognise.

“Don’t be long” Wanda asks, kissing your cheek and going upstairs.

Your shoulders drop a little, and you eye the armsling, but you’re tired of it and feel like it does more harm than good. Leaving it downstairs, you walk up to find your girlfriend preparing a bath.

“Might help relax” she says, and truthfully, you do feel a lot better when she’s taking off your clothes, hands delicately going over your skin. As she walks behind you to place a small kiss in your shoulder blade, her hands stops in a spot you’re always trying to hide.

“What happened to you?”

“Car accident” you say, not in the mood to delve deeper. Turning in her embrace, you unbutton her shirt, kissing down the valley of her breasts. Next are her pants, and you look up with a smile, helping her step out of them.

You sit in the bathtub, letting Wanda rest between your legs. Your hand goes up and down her arm, but your mind is elsewhere.

Especifically, in the pain that hasn’t stopped.

What if it’s something serious? What if you need surgery? And can’t do your job ever again?

It’s all you have, it’s who you are. You don’t know yourself outside of an OR, outside of grueling shifts and hospital walls.

“Can I ask you something?” Wanda interrupts your spiraling thoughts.

“I do think you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet” you say, kissing the spot between her neck and shoulder.

“No, it’s… uh” she hesitates, looking at her hands. “Did you ever think about having children of your own?”

“Oh” you say, frowning. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess all I ever figured out was what I wanted to be, you know? And it’s so demanding that I never thought I’d be a good mother”

“I just… talking about those early years. I love my kids but I don’t know if I’d do it again, start over with a new baby”

“I’m not holding my breath for that, sweetheart” you promise, kissing her temple. “And I’m a workaholic so it wouldn’t be fair to put you through it so you’re alone for a big part of the time”

“Are you sure? If it’s something you want, I can…” she turns around in your embrace, the water splasing a little. “I can try, maybe it’ll be nice”

“I love the way things are” you promise her, looking distractedly at her breasts. “Especially right now. Can you sit closer so I can pay attention to those two?”

“You’re incorrigible” she laughs, her hands going around your neck.

“And yet, you love it”

—

It was hard to sleep with the shooting pain down your arm, but you refused to take anything for it.

By the time you got some rest it was almost 4 AM, so you completely missed breakfast and driving the kids to school.

Probably for the best, since you’re in a foul mood.

“Hey, I have a meeting with Laura. Wanna come with?” Wanda says when you walk downstairs, changed into jeans and a t-shirt.

“Can you drop me off at the hospital?”

“Sweetheart, I know it’s driving you insane but you can’t go to work right now”

“It’s not… that” you say, struggling with your words. You’re so used to solving everything on your own, it’s hard to share that you have any discomfort.

When you were younger, it added to your mother’s stress because she had other things to deal with, so it only made everything worse at home.

“Are you ok?” Wanda asks softly, finally noticing the bags under your eyes.

“I’m just in pain and would like to check everything’s fine”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We should have gone to the hospital as soon as…”

“Wands” you say, overwhelmed at how much she cares. You pull her close, kissing her softly, and she melts against your lips. “It’s nothing serious, promise”

“Ok. Let’s get going, then”

She insists on going with you, but the meeting with Laura is happening, so you just convince her to pick you up as soon as it’s over.

Greeting the people at the front desk, you walk to the staff area, looking for any familiar faces. It’s empty, so the next place is the ER. The sound and rustling make you nostalgic, and there’s gotta be something really wrong with you, because it’s been five days only.

“Can I help you?” Darcy says behind you.

“Looking for a leprechaun”

“I have not missed you” she remarks, and you wanna say something back, but then you notice your ER board.

“Uh, what the hell did you do to my board?”

“It’s color coded!”

“This is an ER! Not arts and crafts, Lewis” you say, feeling like your heart is breaking at the sight.

“Fury likes it”

“Fury can go to… oh, hello, sir” you say, and he glares at you.

“You’re supposed to be resting”

“I have some pain… wanted to check with Carol if everything’s ok”

“Danvers is in the middle of surgery. Will be an hour or so before she’s free” he explains. “How bad is it?”

“A four, maybe” you lie, and he still looks concerned, because in all the years you’ve worked here, you never get sick or complain if you have anything bothering you.

“Get a CT, I’ll go tell her you’re here” he instructs, patting your good shoulder.

Darcy walks with you to get the CT, and once you’re done you both go to the cafeteria.

“Hey, you didn’t bring any cookies” Darcy complains as you pick up a muffin.

“Wasn’t planning on stopping by”

“How’s domestic life? You ready to retire?”

“It’s fine” you say with a smile, but as always, she can see through the bullshit.

“You look miserable. So, you’re either in a lot of pain or there’s something else”

“I just… feel bad that I don’t know how to rest. You know? I’m a workaholic, and Wanda knows it, but it used to be nice to get breaks and spend time with her and the kids. And now, I should just be relaxing and enjoying this time off but I’m so restless. And I wonder if I’m good for them. If I’ll enjoy going on holidays and spending a few days without work or I’ll promise to be there for something and then let work get in the way”

“Ok, first of all. Every surgeon is a workaholic, you know it. This was the only way we could survive and get as far as we did. But you’re acting as if you’re on an indefinite break. Your CT looks fine. In a week you’ll be back”

“Right. It was just so unexpected…”

“You’ve been working less, haven’t you? Spending more time with Wanda and her kids. That’s a major change. So don’t worry about still loving your job and wanting to do it. It’s who you are. And if Wanda loves you she’ll understand”

"Well, good thing she seems to be done having kids, too” you scratch your neck, thinking about last night’s conversation.

“I thought you wanted kids” your friend frowns.

“I never made up my mind… but if she says she’s done, it’s done”

“Interesting…” Darcy holds her chin, examining you. “I do remember you having baby fever when you did your Peeds rounds”

“Ages ago” you insist, smiling. You were good and you almost decided to focus in that area. But Trauma was always where your passion was.

Darcy’s pager beeps and you look at her with some jealousy, wishing you had somewhere to be.

“Gotta go. Danvers should be done soon. Chill, watch some tv, you’ll be back in no time”

“Thanks, mate. And I know, I’ll ask Wanda for some cookies”

You look around the cafeteria, and then wander the hallways. There are a few people in the ER, sitting and waiting for someone to call their names. Without knowing a thing about Darcy’s system, you pick up a file and say a name out loud.

The little guilt you feel at working when you’re clearly not supposed to is quickly forgotten as you help several people, looking at their X-Rays and writing prescriptions, the armsling tossed away.

That is, until you hear someone calling you across the room.

“Y/N Y/L/N” Wanda hisses. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You squeal, hiding behind a curtain. She pulls it and grabs the file from your hands.

“Did Doctor Danvers see you yet?

“She was in surgery and I was bored!” you complain like a little child.

“We’re finding her and then going home”

Doing all but pulling you by the ear, Wanda drags you around the front desk and asks for Carol, the nurses hiding a smile as you remain in the background, silent.

They tell Wanda that Carol will be in a few minutes, and you wait in one of the examination rooms, you sitting in the bed dangling your feet while Wanda answers an email from Laura.

“How did the meeting go?” you try to make ammends.

“Fine”

“Mmm” you nod, thinking it might be better to drop it.

It only gets worse when Carol walks in, thinking you’re the only one in the room.

“How’s it going, Princess?”

Wanda clears her throat, glaring at the blonde and you want to crawl in a hole and die. Not this again.

“Hey, Wanda. Didn’t see you there” she starts speaking in a rush. “What’s the matter? CT looks fine. Except for that horrible surgery they did on you”

“It was twenty years ago, Danvers” you roll your eyes, avoiding Wanda’s inquisitive stare.

“Ok, take your shirt off. O-or not, don’t” she says when Wanda glares.

“Make up your damn mind” you complain, oblivious to everything.

Wanda stands up, looking you in the eye. She smiles, taking your shirt in her hands and pulling it up. Might as well fucked you right then and there, with the way she looks at you.

Maybe it’s not so bad that she’s jealous of Carol.

“There” she says, and all you can do is focus on her lips. She stands back, sitting on the couch and waiting for Carol to examine you.

“The pain has been recurring, right? What changed?”

“It’s more persistent and intense”

“Have you been taking painkillers? Anything else?”

“Nothing, Doc”

Carol sighs.

“We really are the worst patients” she grumbles. “You have nerve damage, we knew that already. The armsling might be making it worse. Use this instead”

She passes a brace that supports your shoulder and allows you to move freely.

“Wooho, this one is way cooler!”

“Wanda, can you make sure she takes these meds? It will help with the swelling” Carol turns to you. “If you rest properly, you can go back to work in ten days”

“Ten days? I want a second opinion”

“A second opinion would be to try surgery and fix that nerve” she says, knowing Stark would agree.

“Fine. Meds and rest” you grumble, putting on the brace.

“One last thing” Carol says and you’re about to ask what is it when she blind sides you, inyecting something on your muscle.

“That’s low even for you” you complain, feeling the burn.

“That will relax you for a few hours, pal”

“Mmm. Thanks, Carol”

“Anytime. Bye, Wanda”

Your girlfriend thanks her, taking your hand and walking you to the exit, hoping you’ll finally get some rest.

“Who did this?” Darcy fumes from the ER and you rush, dragging Wanda.

“Run, now”

For the second time in the day, someone calls you by your full name, this time sounding less forgiving.

“You messed up the system!” Darcy says, watching you run like a coward. “You’re dead to me”

Wanda laughs at that, and you smile, hoping her mood has improved ever since she caught you working.

“Want anything special for lunch?” Wanda asks as she drives back home and you can’t really think of anything.

“Cuddles and a nap with my beautiful girlfriend” you say, feeling the medicine relaxing you. “Damn it, Carol probably gave me a horse tranquilizer”

“That’s what you get for being so stubborn”

“I am not stubborn” you insist, proving her point.

By the time you’re home, your feet feel heavy. Wanda almost has to carry you to the bedroom, where you plop down.

You feel her taking off your shoes and you honestly try to sit up and help, but Carol really outdid herself with whatever it is she gave you.

Lucky she’s a doctor and not a dealer.

“Wands” you mutter.

“Shh, I’m here. Get some rest”

—

Your mouth feels dry, limbs heavy. Like a hangover, but without the fun part.

“M’gonna kill Carol” you sigh, rubbing your eyes. Wanda’s laugh by your side makes you turn and you smile. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Feeling relaxed?”

“Very. I’m just thirsty”

As if she was a mind reader, Wanda nods towards the nighstand next to your side of the bed, where a glass of water is waiting for you.

“You’re so perfect” you say once you gulp it down, breathing and stretching. “Where are the kids?”

“Soccer practice.”

“Oh, sorry about falling asleep. We could have been watching a movie or something” you try to sit up, but Wanda pulls you down, scooting closer to you.

“I just want you to rest”

“I’m not gonna break if I do other stuff”

She doesn’t answer and you lie down, looking at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry” is all she says and you frown. “For everything that happened with Steve”

“You already apologized. It’s in the past”

“I just want to give you everything, and take care of you. I wish I knew how to make you feel better when you’re in pain”

“You’ve been cooking and helping me do everything for the past week, love”

“Anyone could do that”

“No, you’re the only person who could make it all better by just being here” you say, your hand moving the hair out of her eyes. “I’m damn lucky to have you on my side, Wands”

“I… can I ask about the accident? I feel like I know bits and pieces. Though if it’s too painful”

“I was with my Dad” you say, sighing. “Someone else ran a red light and crashed into us. He didn’t make it. It’s just… there’s no point in dwelling on it. It happened, and no amount of grieving can change it. So I don’t”

“Ok”

“I’m not the best person to be with” you admit. “I’m very much addicted to my job, I don’t have a family that is worth talking about. It’s just me, and whatever happens that day in the ER. Maybe that’s why I struggle with being away from the job. There’s nothing else besides that”

“It’s not just you, not anymore. You have us” Wanda promises, kissing your hand. You smile, nodding.

“I know. I love you”

“Love you too.”

—

You finally found some things to do. Wanda would give you drafts to read, surprised at how good your literary insights were.

“Laura might have competition” she joked once.

As for other forms of entertainment, you were currently picking up on your Project Runway obsession even though you were just rewatching season 8, arguably one of the most dramatic ones.

The arm was a lot better and the pain subsided, which was great news. On the other hand, Carol would never shut up about being the best Ortho surgeon in the whole country.

Still, there was one thing you were hoping to do, taking advantage of all the hours you had alone with Wanda.

Thinking it would be better to just catch her off guard, you were in bed, reading another one of her drafts when she came by the room, stretchig her back.

“Tired, my love?” you say with a sympathetic smile.

“A tiny bit. I was thinking we could get pizza tonight? I’m not in the mood for cooking”

“I’m paying for it”

“You’re paying for groceries and everything else these days” she protests.

“What can I tell you? I like to spoil my girl”

Wanda blushes at that, straddling your lap and leanig down to kiss you. You smile, eager to feel her lips on yours, but also, anticipating her reaction as she feels what’s hidden in your pants.

The way she gasps against your mouth sends a shiver down your spine.

“What are you…?”

Your good arm wraps around her waist, making her rub against the strap on.

“A surprise for you” you say, your nose against her neck, leaving open mouthed kisses. “Unless you don’t want to try it. We can just forget about it”

“No, I- but your arm”

“Well, you could be a good girl and ride my dick” you half joke, not expecting the words to have such an impact on her. Before you can react, she’s reaching down between your bodies.

“I wanna see you” she asks, out of breath. You let her pull your pants down, revealing the harness briefs you’re wearing and the plastic cock attached to them.

“What do you think?” you say, one of your thumbs traveling to her mouth, and she eagerly accepts the intrusion, sucking on your finger. She bites it as you pull out, pupils dilated.

Operating on her desires, Wanda moves down your body, until she’s eye level with the strap. Even though you can’t feel it, the sight of her tongue darting out to lick the tip makes your hips buck, pushing inside without a warning.

But she’s a good girl, and takes it all with enthusiasm, her hands on your hips as you fuck her mouth. The friction against your clit makes your breath quicken, and aware that Wanda’s gagging, you stop moving, pulling her away by the hair.

“Show me how good you can take it, baby” you say, smiling. Wanda doesn’t waste any time, discarding her own pants and placing both hands on the side of your face.

You move your hips up a couple of times, teasing her entrance, until you pull her hips down, and you have to look down, admiring the way her hole swallows every inch, Wanda’s face contorted by pleasure.

Once you bottom out, you give her a few seconds to adjust, and only move when she rocks forward, moaning at the way it feels to be so full.

“Look at you, made to take my cock. Fits so fucking perfectly inside that tight cunt” you taunt, squeezing her neck.

Wanda clenches as you choke her, overwhelmed by all the pleasure she’s feeling.

“Come on, fuck yourself on my dick” you challenge, and she begins moving, slow at first, and then faster, her hips finding a rhytm as you let go of her neck, hand going down to pinch her nipples.

The touch catches her off guard, and she somehow changes positions in your lap, the strap going deeper and hitting just the right spot.

“Oh, God…” she mutters, losing herself in the feeling of being full, riding you as your hands roam around every inch of her beautiful body. “I’m close, please”

“Please, what?”

“Please, make me come” she stutters, her hips moving erratically as she approaches her climax. You let your hand travel down, and as you play with Wanda’s clit, the woman lets out a moan, juices spilling down her legs and between your bodies.

Wanda collapses on top of you, breathing heavily. You wait until she calms down to pull out, trying to do it without hurting her.

“Stay inside” she pleads, and the desperation in her words makes you want to fuck her again.

“You did so good, baby” you smile against her temple. “Just relax, I got you”

—-

You had created a horny, hot, insatiable being.

Whenever you were alone in the house, you were usually packing because Wanda would just barge into the room, kiss you like she was running out of time, and then would just push her underwear aside, moaning and panting until she was satisfied. She went at it two or three times each day, even at night though you had to be quiet to not wake up the twins.

How you loved being used for her pleasure, and watch as she was all disheveled when she came, breathing against your neck and repeating how much she loved you and how much she needed you.

Once, you are almost caught by Agatha. This time, you initiate it, approaching Wanda as she makes lunch in the kitchen. Your arm snakes around her middle, hand going up and down until you pinch her nipple through the fabric of her t-shirt. When Wanda arches her back, her ass rubs against the strap, and she moans, allowing you to take her from behind.

“Look at you, taking me so fucking well” you say, spanking her. She moans against her arm, enjoying the new angle and the way your hands grab handfuls of her ass, the soft flesh turning red.

 In that precise moment, there’s a knock at the door. You turn at the same time, and while Wanda seems to be trying to gather her thoughts, you keep pushing inside of her.

“Wanda, are you home?” Agatha says.

“Go on, answer her. Tell her you’re getting fucked from behind, baby” you taunt, determined to make her come.

“If she sees us…”

“Better hurry then” you mutter, hips moving faster until you feel Wanda’s legs shake, hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming.

You pull out, and force Wanda on her knees. She can’t stand up, as Agatha looks through the window, waving at you. The lower half of your body is hidden by the countertop.

“Do you have any eggs I can borrow?”

“We’re out of those” you lie, moving your hips forward until Wanda gets the hint and licks the strap clean. “I’m going to the store later today, I’ll get some extra for you”

“You’re such a dear. Is Wanda working?”

“Oh, yes. She’s hard at work” you say, smiling.

“If you ever feel lonely, come by and visit me, dear” the woman winks, turning to leave. You keep Wanda in place, fucking her mouth until the pressure on your clit makes you get some release.

“I’m not done with you” you say, pulling her up. “It’s a damn shame you couldn’t be as loud as you wanted before”

Wanda looks confused, or maybe it’s the orgasm she just had. Either way, you guide her upstairs, and she quickly gets on all fours, ass up in the air again.

“Better be screaming my name when I’m done with you”

Of course she did. And you’re pretty sure those screams could be heard all the way to Agatha’s house.

—

“I’m gonna be late for work” you say, not really caring. Wanda’s on your lap, grinding against you. There’s nothing under your scrubs today, because, well, it would be awkward to work while packing all day.

Who knew you’d end up wanting more free time, and all because Wanda can’t go five minutes without getting fucked.

“I’m gonna miss you” she whines, biting down on your earlobe and you moan.

“Baby, you’re not playing fair”

Maybe calling in sick won’t be such a bad idea. Your colleagues will understand. It’s not like they’ve been covering for you for two weeks.

Right.

“I have to go” you sigh against her lips, searching her eyes. You hope she can understand.

“I know, I’m sorry”

Wanda smiles and the way she runs her hands down your cheeks melts your heart.

“I love you. Thank you for helping me heal these past weeks. And I’m sorry for being so difficult at times, my love. I’ll make it up to you”

“I love you too” she smiles, leaning her forehead against yours.

With that, you get ready to drive to the hospital. You’re still wearing the brace Carol gave you, more as a precaution. Wanda also gives you a whole batch of cookies and you suspect Darcy will steal most of it.

You say goodbye at the front door, promising to call her when you have time.

“Welcome back, doctor Y/L/N”

Kate Bishop is the first to greet you, waiting in the ER.

“Thank you, Kate. Did I miss anything big these past few days?”

While you go over some files, she makes the rounds on patients that have been here for the past days and are getting discharged soon.

You go back to the ER to review paperwork and she sticks around, which seems weird.

“Shouldn’t you be around the halls to see if you can scrub in on something?”

“Uh…”

“Look, if they told you to babysit me, don’t worry about it. I can handle this alone”

“That’s not… remember how I hadn’t made up my mind about a specialty? Well, I did. I want to be a Trauma surgeon” she smiles, hoping you’re happy about it.

“Wow! Congrats, Bishop” you can’t help but bring her in for a hug. “Everyone else had their student, but me”

“Well, you have yours now. I can’t wait to learn, Sir. Ma’am. Doctor” Kate stumbles with her words and you pat her back.

That very second, two people walk in, screaming something about their Halloween decoration and a freak accident.

“Let the lessons begin, kid”

And so, you spend the better part of the shift stabilizing a patient and working with Stark to stop a brain bleeding from a falling pumpkin.

“It’s that time of year again” he says, and you sigh.

“What is?” Peter looks around the table.

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of freak accidents when holidays are around” Stark says. “Well, Dr. Y/L/N knows better than me, she’s the one treating everything”

“Cuts while carving pumpkins, blazing Jack-O-Lanterns, food allergies for kids”

“Tripping with their too long ghost costumes” Stark adds. “Learn that the hard way with Morgan”

“Gotta warn Wanda about that” you grimace.

“Ah, yes, the missus” Stark says, and you can’t see a lot of his face but you can tell by his tone that he is ready to tease you.

“Careful, Doctor Stark”

“I’m just saying, everyone thinks it’s cute. Morgan loves her and their art lessons too. Plus, it’s nice to see a doctor dating someone outside of the hospital. I’m so done with all the hook ups, it’s nearly impossible to find an on call room to rest”

“You own the hospital, can’t you do something about the rooms?”

“Not without causing a meltdown for HR” he says and you both chuckle.

“It is nice to be with someone who thinks you’re crazy for wanting to be working for two straight days. Gives you perspective”

“Precisely” Stark agrees. “Well, Peter can close him up”

“Meet you back at the ER, doctor Bishop”

You nod, going to the scrub room to wash your hands.

“Carol told me about your little nerve thing”

“Of course she did”

“There’s a great chance for the procedure to work, it’s also non invasive. Recovery time is…”

“I’ll think about it. But it hasn’t been bothering me anymore. Maybe it was just the shoulder injury”

“Yeah, maybe. But you know how it is. Wouldn’t you want to be completely sure you’ll be fine holding your baby one day?”

“Wanda is done having kids so that’s not a particular concern of mine” you say in an even tone.

“Really? With the way she looks at you, it almost seems like she wants you to knock her up”

“Tony” you elbow him, and he cackles.

“Just saying. Your kids would be cute”

“Are you having baby fever and trying to drag me with you?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Maybe” he winks as you leave the scrub room.

Still, the conversation leaves you thinking about Wanda and as soon as you’re out of the OR you call her.

“You’re on speaker, my love” she says, making you smile.

You can hear Billy and Tommy rushing to her side, speaking over each other.

“Woah, woah, one at a time”

“I got an A in my Science paper!”

“I scored a goal in practice”

“Way to go, kiddos. Can’t wait to hear all about it”

“We miss you” Tommy says, which makes you strangely emotional.

You never had someone say that to you.

“Miss you too” you admit.

“Go wash your hands, say bye to Y/N” Wanda waits a little and then talks to you again. “You’re still on speaker because I’m finishing dinner”

“No dirty talk, got it” you chuckle.

“How’s the day so far?”

“Oh, we had a freak accident with Halloween decoration which reminds me, don’t put anything until I’m there to help?”

“Ok, I won’t” she agrees.

“And Kate, you remember her? She’s a resident and today she told me she wants to be a Trauma surgeon so I guess I am officially her teacher”

“Congratulations, she got the best one”

“Yeah, it’s just a lot of responsibility, I guess” you chew on your lip, thinking about everything you’ll have to teach her. It’s not just the medical side, it’s about handling the stress and the pressure of helping people in the worst situations.

“I’m sure you’ll do great” Wanda says, knowing your sudden silence means you are overthinking. “Is the shoulder ok? Promise me you’ll eat something and get some rest”

Your pager interrupts the moment and Wanda groans.

“I’m afraid I can’t keep that promise, love of my life. Will talk to you later”

“Love you”

“Love you too”

Kate meets you in the ER and you’re suddenly dealing with a car accident and four patients, two of them children.

“Page Maria and Carol, this is gonna be a long night”

“And my shift is just starting” Darcy says behind you and you turn, excited to see your best friend.

“Missed me?”

“Not a bit”

But you know she’s full of it. You scrub in together, and she updates you on all the gossip you missed, using codenames no one else knows about.

“Did you hear Doctor Bishop is my new apprentice?” you say when you let her close the patient.

“Congrats, you finally got a minion”

“Wanna get one for you?”

“Ugh, no, you gotta water them twice a week and it’s too much trouble. I’m fine just being an attending” she rolls her eyes.

You’re about to go on a lecture about the importance of teaching and mentoring when Kate curses, and the patient begins to crash.

“Move” you say, stepping in to check what’s wrong.

“See?” Darcy says.

Though Kate didn’t do anything wrong, you ended up an hour more in the OR to make sure everything was ok.

When you’re done it’s close to dawn and you’re exhausted. Darcy finds an empty room and you plop down in one of the beds, sighing. It’s too early to call Wanda. You remove the brace to rest your shoulder.

“Do you think people ever considered we were hooking up?” you ask your friend, remembering the conversation with Stark. It’s just a funny thought, but Darcy let’s out a groan.

“Ugh, I hope not”

“Excuse me?” you sit up. “It sounds like you’re offended by the idea”

“You’re just not my type”

“So hot and successful is not your type?”

“You’re too tall!” she shouts.

“You’re too small!” you say, turning around so she only sees your back. “Garden gnome”

“Big foot” she whispers and you both laugh.

—

“Wanda, baby” you moan, kissing the… pillow?

Your pager wakes you up, and you look around the room, confused.

“I’m trying to sleep” Darcy complains.

“So was I” you say, checking your phone. It’s nothing related to the ER, so you go to the room where you’re called to.

“How can I help...” you walk into the room, and are surprised to see Wanda sitting in the bed. “Baby, hey! Wait, are you ok? Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine” she says, appreciating your concern. Still, you check every inch of her body, hands holding her face gently. “I drove Agatha here”

“Why?” you frown.

“She cut herself while carving out a pumpkin”

“Halloween is always like this. I hate it” you mumble, and Wanda laughs.

“Don’t be such a party pooper. What’s wrong with dressing up and getting candy?”

“Trust me, spend a night in the ER with people who thought it would be a good idea to bring a real chainsaw to a party and you’ll agree with me”

“Well, I’ll have to change your mind about it” Wanda bites her lip, pulling you closer. “Maybe wear something real nice to cheer you up”

“I’m listening” you say, moaning against her mouth when she finally closes the distance. God, you forgot how good it feels to have her in your arms. “I should go check on Agatha”

“Your little student is taking care of her. Plus, I have a few symptoms of my own I’d like to ask about”

“Ok, what is it?”

“I have heart palpitations… and something like a flutter in my stomach. It’s hard to focus sometimes, too”

“When does this happen?” you play along, smiling as Wanda pulls you in between her legs.

“When I'm thinking about my girlfriend fucking me real hard”

“Babe” you sigh against her lips.

“Nu-uh. You’re working” she smiles, happy to see you so worked up.

“Mean”

Wanda laughs against your temple, her hands running up and down your arms.

“When does your shift end?”

“Tomorrow morning. Which would give me enough time to get ready for Laura’s party”

“You remembered” Wanda says, shocked.

“Well, yeah”

“I told you a month ago”

“And I wrote it down so I didn’t forget. You told me it was important for me to be there” you smile, unaware of the impact a little gesture like that could have in Wanda.

“I changed my mind, I need you to fuck me here”

You open and close your mouth a few times, looking at the door and then at Wanda. Yeah, you’d be crazy to let that chance slip.

Undoing the butto of her jeans, your hand moves as much as possible in the confined space, rubbing her clit through her underwear until Wanda is panting against your ear.

The woman finishes with a groan that you muffle with your lips, worried someone might come in.

Still, when you both leave the room, a bit disheveled and blushing, Stark glares and you wink.

“At least it’s not an on call room, Tony”

Wanda follows you to the ER, where Kate is finishing with Agatha’s stitches.

“Took your sweet time, Wanda” Agatha says, and you try to hide your smile.

“Sorry, that was my fault. But I’m here now and I’ll make sure everything is fine. Nice work, Doctor Bishop. Mrs. Harkness is a vital member of our community”

“Oh, darling, aren’t you a dear?” Agatha laughs, patting your arm. “Careful, Wanda, I might steal her from you”

You’re pretty sure Wanda’s response is not gonna be a nice one, but then you’re interrupted by the forensic that works at the morgue.

“Yo, Y/L/N. Can I get your name here?” Rio asks, her tone even and deadpan expression making her look bored, as usual.

“Sure, Death. There ya go”

Rio looks at Agatha for a second too long and then smiles to herself.

“I love to play with knives too” the brunette says, winking at your neighbour.

Wanda and you share a look, as if you’re wondering if Rio is the answer to all your problems.

“Who was that?” Agatha says, enthranced.

“Rio Vidal. We call her Death because she’s at the morgue, doing autopsies. Seems like she likes you”

“Could I… can you give her my phone number?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll go straight to the morgue and make sure she has it, Agatha” you promise.

Once Kate finishes with closing the wound, Agatha tells Wanda they better go, so you’re free to find Rio.

“See you in 24 hours, my beautiful girlfriend” you promise, kissing Wanda.

“Lovebirds, wrap it up. Vámonos”

“Ugh” Wanda rolls her eyes. Maybe she liked Agatha better when she pretended to be nice to you to upset her.

“Smile, darling. Let’s hope Rio keeps her busy for the next few weeks”

“Or centuries” Wanda jokes and you laugh, kissing her softly.

—

A 48 hour shift when you just got back to work was not your best idea. As you park in your driveway, you text Wanda to let her know you’ll shower and rest a bit before you leave at noon.

You almost fall asleep standing in the shower, but snap out of it and clean yourself up so you can get a nap.

Once you wake up, it’s a little before noon so you get some time to change into pants, a t-shirt and sneakers.

“Well, hello there” you admire Wanda’s figure in a sundress. “Am I underdressed?”

“It’s a barbecue, baby, you’re fine” she smiles, pulling you inside and cornering you against the door. “Missed you”

“Missed you too” you sigh against her lips.

“Mom, have you seen my shoes?” Tommy says from upstairs and you laugh.

It takes the twins a couple more minutes to get ready, but once they go down and see you, they’re both buzzing with excitement.

The whole car ride is spent asking them questions about their day. As soon as you park, though, they are out the door, eager to greet Cooper and Lila.

You carry the pie Wanda made and put it on a table full of food.

“Wow, it’s kinda nice to live outside the city” you say admiring the entire property. Wanda had told you they lived in a farm, but you thought it was a figure of speech. “Maybe we need to get something like this, babe”

“Wanda, glad you could make it. You must be Y/N” a brunette approaches you, and you squeeze her hand.

“Nice you meet you, Laura”

“I hear you already know my husband”

“Yeah, we’ve had our share of work stuff” you nod, hand going to your shoulder.

As if on cue, Clint shows up holding a baby that is getting restless.

“Sweetheart, did you feed Nathaniel? Oh, hey Wanda. Y/N”

“I just fed him. Can you take care of him for a bit? I gotta make the mashed potatoes”

“Why don’t I…” you suggest when the baby starts crying. His eyes widen at the shift and then stares at you. Holding your breath, you expect him to begin hollering but he just laughs, curious about your hair. “There we go”

“Oh, wow. Wanda, you should have mentioned this sooner” Laura says, amazed at how Nathaniel seems to be so at ease with you.

“Come on, little prince. Let’s walk around the party for a bit. Say bye to Mom and Dad”

“I’ll catch you later, gotta help Laura for a bit” Wanda says, finding it hard to look away from you.

“Ok, darling” you say, balancing Nathaniel in your arms.

You walk around the Barton’s property, waving at the twins and their friends. Nathaniel bounces around in your arms, wanting to play with his siblings.

“What are you up to, kiddos?”

“We’re gonna play hide and seek. Wanna join us?” Billy says.

“Gotta look out for Nathaniel, but enjoy”

Across the field, some of Clint’s friends are playing soccer. Nathaniel seems interested in the ball, so you stand on the edge and let him follow it with his eyes. At one point, one of the guys throws it your way by accident and you’re able to stop it with your foot, without dropping Nathaniel.

There’s a chorus of whistles and one of the man approaches.

“Hey, you must be the cutest babysitter I’ve seen”

“I’m a guest of Clint and Laura” you say, ignoring his advances. “And you are a hazard to babies. Goodbye”

Wanda is following your every move from the kitchen, and she’s reluctant to admit that the image of you holding a baby so confidently is doing things to her.

“There are kids present” Laura teases and she laughs.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Can’t say that I blame you. She looks good with a baby”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, we talked about it and she seemed to be indifferent to the idea. Or maybe it was because I tried to brush it off” Wanda sighs, cutting up more fruit. Truth is, she did wonder what it would be like, to have a partner that was with her every step of the way.

She loved her boys, but she had done everything on her own. Sometimes Pietro and her parents would help, but she didn’t have a spouse that would be her companion in every sense of the word.

“Well, I don’t think she’s completely convinced about it either” Laura points your way, and you’re making Nathaniel giggle with silly faces.

“Diaper change” you announce a moment later; walking to the living room. “I can do it”

“Thanks, you’re a sweetheart” Laura says, pointing at the diapers and wipes. Wanda takes a break from the cooking, to check if you need any help.

To her surprise, you’re changing the diaper expertly. In one swift motion, it’s all done and cleaned. Your girlfriend joins in, talking to Nathaniel while her hand runs up and down your back.

“We’re missing a player, wanna join us?” Clint calls from the door. Wanda takes Nathaniel from your arms, and you kiss her cheek.

When you walk to the field, the same man that spoke to you before approaches.

“Hey, we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Sam Wilson” you arch an eyebrow, staying silent. “Come on, can I at least get your name?”

“I’m Y/N”

“Ok, Y/N. Why don’t we make it interesting? If I score a goal, I can ask you something about yourself”

“Well, what do I get if I score?” you say, smiling.

“Whatever you want, gorgeous”

You look around the field, spotting Lila playing with some nail polish.

“Lila gets to do your nails”

“Alright. Let’s go”

It’s funny, how Sam and his team think they have to go easy on you. It takes them two goals to catch up and realise they’re not letting you win.

You’re making them lose big time.

Throwing some turns and dribbles, you make Sam lose his footing, jumping over him to kick the ball one last time and score another goal.

“That’s three versus zero, Sam” you pat his back.

“One last shot” he says. You roll your eyes, too tired to argue with him. This time, you run around with the ball but do a simple kick that he can intercept.

“Yes. Goal!” he stops mid dance to turn to you. “My question is, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope” you answer, smiling as you can see Wanda approaching you. She walks past Sam, jumping into your arms and putting her legs around your waist. She kisses you, groaning against your mouth when you bite her bottom lip.

“She does, however, have a girlfriend” Wanda says, getting down. “Food’s ready”

“I’m starving” you say, letting Wanda pull you to the table, leaving Sam behind, confused and exhausted.

—

It was a wonderful party. There was plenty of food, playing and cleaning to do. In the end, the twins wanted to stay over to play with the Barton children.

Laura said it would be no trouble, and you voluntereed to pick them all up the next day to go to the movies or anything else.

“Had the best time today” you say, stretching in Wanda’s bed. She stays silent for a second and you sit up. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” she interrupts her beauty routine to turn and look at you. “Would it be a mistake to tell you that maybe, I still want to have another baby?”

“Am I that irresistible holding a toddler?” you wiggle your eyebrows and Wanda let’s out a laugh, relieved that you’re not freaked out by what she just said. You stand up, kneeling in front of her. “I think having a little baby girl that looks like you would be the best thing ever. I also know having a kid involves a lot of changes and planning. But I can’t think of anyone better to do it with”

“So… why don’t we just leave that door open?” Wanda says, looking at her lap where your hands are clasped together. “For now”

“Yes, my love” you nod, kissing the tip of her nose. You’re about to stand up when she pulls you down by your shirt, this time in a rougher kiss.

“I got us something” she says, breathing heavily.

“Oh?”

“We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to”

“Now I really need to know what it is, Wanda” you say, the exhaustion of the past days leaving your body at the idea of having sex with your girlfriend.

“Get in bed and close your eyes”

You nod, excitedly waiting for her to reveal what she got. You hear her drawer open and close, and your heart beats faster.

“Ok” she says, and as you open your eyes you don’t notice anything different, until you look at her hand.

“Oh” you pick up the strap, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s a…”

“I know what it is” you say with a smile, checking that it is indeed hollow. Out of curiosity, you squeeze it and a stream of lube shoots out of the tip. “Shit. Sorry, love. I’ll last longer next time”

“You’re an idiot” she laughs, hiding her face in her hands.

“So, wanna try it?”

“I do, yeah… uh, it’s a fantasy of mine to feel you, as if, finishing inside. I mean, I know it’s just something different but… yeah” she turns red, looking between you and the strap.

“No need to feel ashamed, my darling. I like to be tied up, if you want us to share some kinks”

“That would be amazing” she says, a little out of breath. “But if we do all of that, I might not survive, so, just one thing at a time?”

“Of course” you smile, placing the strap on the nighstand. “Come here”

You let Wanda sit on your lap, and you begin to kiss her, taking your time and alternating between running your tongue down her lip and letting it explore the inside of her mouth.

“This toy is a bit bigger than what we’ve used before, so why don’t I… get you nice and ready, huh?” you whisper hotly, pulling her underwear to the side. Without waiting for an answer, you collect Wanda’s juices in your fingers, prodding at her entrance and stretching her. When you bring a finger to your mouth and suck, Wanda’s mouth opens, hypnotized by your movement. “Lie on your back and get that dress off. I wanna taste that pussy”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch with a smile as she discards the dress, waiting in her matching lace set.

“What a good girl” you purr, crawling until you’re close to her center. You kiss the inside of her thighs, and then pull down her panties, slick coating the fabric.

Wanda arches her back when she feels your mouth on her cunt, holding your head in place. You let her dig her nails in your scalp, moving against your face until you have her arousal on your chin and lips.

“Feeling ready to take my cock?” you say, standing up to take off your clothes. Wanda is so worked up that she barely listens to you, watching as you adjust the strap around your hips.

Before you can get back to bed, Wanda leans forward, licking the shaft.

“Fuck” you say, admiring how the cock disappears inside her mouth, and she looks so pleased licking it that you’re tempted to squeeze and have the lube run down her throat.

Maybe later, you decide when she breaks apart, gasping for air.

“I’m not waiting any longer to be buried inside you” you say, pushing her so she’s on her back again. “Ready?”

“Please, just fuck me already” she says, canting her hips up.

“So desperate. And all just so you can have my cum inside you, is that right?” you taunt, letting the tip in and watching for any sign of discomfort.

Wanda bites her lip and the way she looks at you makes your hips jerk, introducing more of the toy. The woman moans, her nails digging in your sides.

“That’s it” she sighs, while you move in and out, starting a slow and steady ryhtm. You lift her legs and put them over your shoulders, going deeper and hitting that perfect spot that makes her see stars.

“Harder, I want you to fuck me so hard”

“How hard, huh?” your hand goes to her neck and you squeeze. Wanda moans your name, enjoying the pressure. “Want me to come inside you?”

“Yes, please fill me up”

“So pretty when you beg” you mutter, pounding harder and letting the hand that was chocking her travel to her nipples. You pinch one and then the other, enjoying Wanda’s sensitivity.

As you change your angle, Wanda’s legs squeeze you, pulling you closer. You thrust harder, erratically, knowing you’re close and so is she.

“Wanna get you nice and full”

“Fuck, yes” Wanda cries out, biting the spot between your shoulder and neck. “I’m gonna…”

As soon as she says those words, your hand travels between your bodies, squeezing the strap on so it can shoot the load inside of her.

Wanda lets out a loud moan at the feeling, pulling you until you can’t hold yourself up, collapsing on top of her.

For a few minutes, all that can be heard is your heavy breathing. Once you come to your senses, you move to the side. While Wanda is still trying to recover, you look down, clenching at the mess between your bodies.

“Give me a second and we can…” Wanda says, coming back to her senses. You smile, kissing her softly.

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere”

Once her breathing evens out, she scoots closer, hiding in your arms.

“Was it good? We appreciate honest feedback here”

Wanda laughs, kissing your neck.

“It was so good I think I might be pregnant”

“Well” you say, rolling so Wanda’s on top now. “That will be one beautiful baby”

—

This has been the best night of your life. You’re usually quiet when having sex, because you never have the house to yourselves. After that, you cuddle and call it a night.

Not this night, though. You had been at it for a couple of hours when you got hungry, so now you’re having a midnight snack, Wanda wearing your shirt and you in the usual tank top.

“Food’s almost ready” Wanda says.

"While we wait, let's..." you trail off, playing some music.

I used to love like a lovesick puppy Loving on anyone who'd throw me a bone I didn't care if they weren't good for me 'Cause it was better than being alone

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks with a smile when you reach out for her hand.

“Can I have this dance?”

“I’m a terrible dancer” she warns you, but you shrug your shoulders.

“You’re not wearing heels right now, so we’re safe. Come on, I’ll lead”

Without waiting for her reply, your hands go around her waist. Wanda puts her arms over your shoulders, letting you sway her to the music.

Now I've grown up to be a pretty cool person Loving myself and I know my worth I think I'm ready to find my person 'Cause I won't accept less than I deserve

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, I’m looking for a wife” you sing, making Wanda laugh.

“Is this you proposing?”

“What? Nu-uh. When I do it, it’s gonna be awesome. And unexpected. But mostly awesome”

“When you propose? You thought about it”

“I’m here for the long run, baby”

Wanda smiles, leaning against your chest, while you keep rocking gently to the music.

“I love you”

“Love you too, Wanda”

Ooweeoowee My emergency contact Want a love like that No sweat 'cause I know you've got my back Ooweeoowee My emergency contact Want a love like that, want a love like that

A/N: Song is Emergency Contact by Corook. Please listen to all her music.

Last year I told you all to listen to Chappell Roan and none of you did and LOOK WHERE WE ARE NOW

[phoenixblaze1412]

Dottore with a child that hates anyone other than him, blatantly refusing to talk to others even when dottore is begging them to just socially interact with others.

Dottore had faced many difficult challenges in his life—failed experiments, catastrophic miscalculations, and Harbinger politics. But nothing compared to the sheer frustration of trying to make his child interact with anyone who wasn’t him or his Segments.

At first, he had assumed it was a temporary phase. You were young, and it was natural for a child to cling to their parental figure. But time passed, and the problem became increasingly evident.

You spoke freely with him and his Segments. You laughed with Beta when he teased you, asked Sigma endless questions about his research, and followed Theta around the lab like a shadow. You had even convinced Gamma to help you sabotage one of Omega’s overly complicated projects.

But the moment someone who wasn’t a copy of your father tried to talk to you?

Silence.

Even worse, if they insisted, you would glare at them like they had personally offended you.

--------

"You’ve raised quite the little menace, Doctor," Pantalone remarked, adjusting his pristine gloves as he watched the scene before him with poorly concealed amusement.

Dottore sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced at you—his ever-difficult child—who was currently using Theta’s coat as a shield from the Fatui gathering. The event had been meant to encourage some level of socialization, yet you had, as expected, refused to acknowledge a single soul outside of the Segments. Your sharp eyes scanned the room, filled with nothing but thinly veiled distrust.

"This again?" Dottore muttered, already feeling his patience wear thin.

Arlecchino, who had been watching the whole ordeal with arms crossed, let out a low chuckle. "They truly refuse to speak to anyone outside your little creations, huh?" She tilted her head, looking entirely too entertained.

"Of course they do." Sigma smirked, swirling a glass of wine between his fingers. "They have standards."

"You are enabling them," Dottore muttered, glaring at Sigma, who only grinned wider in response.

"Am I?" Sigma asked, feigning innocence. "Or am I simply accepting reality?"

Pantalone, ever persistent, crouched slightly to your level and offered his most charming smile. "Come now, little one, surely you can spare a few words for me?"

You lifted your head just enough to stare at him, expression blank.

A pause.

Then, very deliberately, you turned away, reaching for Beta’s sleeve instead. "I’m bored. Can we leave?"

Beta grinned, all too happy to indulge you. "I was waiting for you to ask."

Pantalone sighed, standing back up as he dramatically placed a hand over his chest. "Unbelievable. My wealth and charm mean nothing to this child."

"At least they have taste," Theta quipped, smirking.

Dottore felt his headache intensify.

By the time the gathering had officially begun, you had already wedged yourself between Beta and Theta at one of the tables, arms crossed and face resting in your palm, exuding pure boredom. The Harbingers had begun taking it as a challenge.

"Have you tried bribing them?" Sandrone suggested, barely looking up from her latest automaton sketches.

"I don’t need bribes," you muttered, earning a snort from Beta.

Childe, still attempting to win you over, leaned down with an easy grin. "Hey, kiddo, I promise I don’t bite."

You slowly blinked at him. "I bite."

Beta let out a delighted laugh while Theta tried to stifle his amusement behind a gloved hand.

Childe, stunned for a moment, barked out a laugh himself. "I like this kid!"

"That is not helping," Dottore ground out.

Columbina, watching with open amusement, hummed as she rested her chin in her hands. "Oh, they really don’t like any of us, do they?"

"No," you said flatly.

The room fell into silence for a moment before Arlecchino exhaled through her nose, unimpressed. "You do realize that not everyone is an enemy, right?"

You squinted at her, unconvinced. "I never said they were. I just don’t like them."

Dottore could practically feel the migraine forming at this point. He knew you had a preference for his Segments over anyone else, but this was getting ridiculous.

After what felt like hours of you rejecting every single attempt at interaction, Dottore finally had enough. He turned to you, expression firm. "You need to socialize."

"I am," you replied, without hesitation, leaning against Theta’s side. "With them."

"With someone other than the Segments," he clarified, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I don’t want to," you said simply, voice unwavering.

The Segments—who had been watching with barely concealed amusement—finally broke their silence. Beta placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It’s okay. We’ll be your designated social circle."

"You are not helping," Dottore snapped, shooting him a glare.

Theta, looking as smug as ever, smirked. "Face it, Prime. They’ve made their choice."

Dottore exhaled sharply, glancing around the room at the utterly defeated Harbingers and his far-too-smug Segments. He could already hear Pantalone whispering something about compensation for his wasted time.

Fine. Whatever.

He would try again later.

But as you nestled comfortably between Beta and Theta, perfectly at ease in the chaos you had created, Dottore supposed—just for tonight—he could let this battle go.

----------

Dottore pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply as if summoning the patience of an Archon. Across from him, you sat perched comfortably on the counter, swinging your legs idly. Your expression was smug, far too amused by his exasperation for his liking.

"If you refuse to socialize, I will be forced to conduct an experiment on your behavior," he declared, arms crossed.

You barely glanced up from the intricate diagram you had been doodling on a stray blueprint. "I talk to people. I talk to you and the Segments."

"That is not what I mean," he huffed. "You refuse to acknowledge anyone who doesn’t look like me."

You tilted your head in consideration, then shrugged. "Maybe they should try looking like you, then."

Dottore exhaled slowly, his mechanical mask clicking slightly as he adjusted it. "You are impossible."

You grinned, sharp and mischievous. "Thank you."

His eye twitched. "That was not a compliment."

"Sure it was. You just don’t want to admit it."

Dottore glared at you for a long moment before sighing. "I will bribe you if I must."

Now that got your attention. You leaned forward, intrigued. "Bribe me with what?"

He tapped his fingers against the countertop, considering. "Books. Research materials. I will even consider letting you conduct a small experiment under supervision."

Your eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Does that include throwing a beaker at someone if they annoy me?"

Dottore groaned. "No."

You pouted. "Not even a little vial?"

"No."

"A dropper?"

He gave you a flat stare. "Are you planning to weaponize the entire lab?"

You grinned. "I mean, it’s an option."

Dottore muttered something under his breath about regretting every life decision that led him here. He looked at you again, more serious this time. "You need to at least tolerate other people. It is inefficient to isolate yourself from the world."

You pursed your lips, contemplating his words. Then, finally, you sighed dramatically. "Fine. But only if I get to choose who I interact with."

Dottore narrowed his eyes. "Within reason."

You smirked. "And I still get the books?"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again. "Yes. But no throwing beakers."

"Not even if I say it’s for science?"

Dottore groaned again, but he couldn't quite hide the small, amused smirk that tugged at his lips.

----------

Childe thought the whole situation was hilarious.

"So let me get this straight," he said, barely holding back a laugh. "They talk to you and your creepy clones—"

"Segments," Dottore corrected, already regretting this conversation.

"—but the moment they see anyone else, they act like they’re allergic to human interaction?"

"Yes," Dottore deadpanned.

Childe’s grin widened. "Oh, I gotta try this."

Dottore sighed. This was going to be painful to watch.

True enough, the next time Childe visited the lab, he strolled in with the confidence of a man who had no idea he was about to be humiliated. Crouching to meet your eye level, he offered an easy grin. "Hey, kid. Wanna hear a cool battle story?"

You blinked at him.

There was a long pause where Childe was sure he had you interested.

Then, without a single word, you turned on your heel and walked straight to Sigma, gripping his coat like he was your lifeline. Sigma, ever the enabler, ruffled your hair and smirked at Childe. "Good choice."

Childe blinked. He pointed at himself, bewildered. "Did I just get ignored?"

Beta chuckled from his spot near the workbench, shaking his head in amusement. "Congratulations. You’ve been rejected."

Childe scoffed, standing up. "Come on, kid, at least give me a chance!"

You peered at him from Sigma’s side, then slowly—very slowly—turned away again.

Sigma smirked. "That’s a no."

Childe groaned, running a hand down his face. "Wow. That hurt."

Dottore, watching this entire mess unfold, barely concealed his amusement. "I warned you."

Childe narrowed his eyes. "Alright, this is just a challenge now. Mark my words, kid, one day, you’ll talk to me willingly."

You, still clinging to Sigma’s coat, raised an unimpressed brow. "Doubt it."

Beta laughed outright. "Ouch. That’s rough, comrade."

Childe huffed, standing up with a dramatic sigh. "Fine, fine. I’ll win you over eventually, kid."

Dottore, shaking his head, muttered, "I wouldn’t count on it."

And yet, Childe refused to give up.

----------

Eventually, your reputation reached Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa.

"You refuse to speak to anyone but your father and his Segments?" she mused, studying you with an unreadable expression.

You stood beside Dottore, meeting her gaze without fear. "Yes."

Dottore shot you a warning glance, silently begging you not to cause problems. The last thing he needed was for you to annoy the Cryo Archon herself.

A moment of silence stretched between you and the Tsaritsa. The Harbingers watched with interest, some expecting her to reprimand you, others just enjoying the show.

Then—

She smiled. "Good."

Dottore’s brain short-circuited. "…What?"

The Tsaritsa leaned back slightly, clearly amused by his visible confusion. "I appreciate their selectiveness," she said simply. "It means their loyalty cannot be swayed so easily."

You smirked. Victory.

Dottore ran a hand down his face. "This is not a good thing."

"I disagree," the Tsaritsa replied, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "You’ve raised a child who does not yield to outside influence. That is admirable."

Pantalone snickered. "This is the first time I’ve seen the Doctor look this close to despair."

Childe, still smarting from being ignored, crossed his arms. "If anything, this just means I’ll have to work harder to get on their good side."

Arlecchino, unimpressed, simply muttered, "What a waste of time."

Columbina giggled from her spot nearby. "How fascinating. Our dear Doctor is usually so composed."

Dottore inhaled sharply, gripping the bridge of his nose. "I despise all of you."

The Tsaritsa ignored the chaos, her gaze settling back on you. "Remain as you are, child. The world is full of deceivers, but you know where your trust belongs."

You nodded, entirely pleased with yourself. "I do."

Dottore sighed. This was getting out of hand.

After the unexpected (and unwanted) approval from the Tsaritsa, things only got worse for Dottore.

The Harbingers no longer even tried to get you to talk to them. Instead, they just found ways to be entertained by your selective silence.

Childe saw it as a long-term challenge. "One day, you’ll talk to me willingly, and it’ll be the greatest victory of my life."

Pantalone was far less persistent but enjoyed making bets on how long others could last before giving up.

Arlecchino barely cared, but occasionally tested your resolve by standing in your way, just to see if she could get a reaction.

Columbina found it endlessly amusing. "You really are just a smaller version of the Doctor, aren't you?"

The segments, of course, continued to be your only real source of interaction outside of Dottore himself. Theta, Beta, and Sigma all took turns indulging your preference, while Omega often tried (and failed) to logic you into socializing.

Dottore, at the end of it all, could only sigh and accept that this was simply how things were.

If the Tsaritsa herself had deemed your behavior acceptable, then there was no point in fighting it.

"One day, you will regret this," he muttered, glancing at you as you curled up beside him on the couch in his lab, entirely unbothered by the outside world.

You only smiled. "Doubt it."

[amethystarachnid]

Can you write a second part of Sky Rockets and Robots with Tony and Reader getting married, Tony adopting Lily as his own daughter and our beautiful couple welcoming a new baby? 💛💛💛

SKY ROCKETS AND ROBOTS - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, some angst, a little bit of spicy

ᯓ★ part 1

ᯓ★ Story type: short fanfic

ᯓ★ Word count: 7k

ᯓ★ Summary: Just when you thought that your life with Tony couldn't get better he proposes! How will you life with him be?

ᯓ★ TW(s): pregnancy,

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

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

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

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

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

One crisp autumn afternoon, you're busy in the kitchen, listening to the soft hum of the city outside, while Lily is sitting at the table with her latest science project: a DIY volcano, complete with baking soda, vinegar, and food coloring. Tony’s somewhere in the penthouse, tinkering in the lab or wrapping up a call. This is your routine now—a life filled with laughter, tinkering, and little family moments that feel so natural it’s hard to remember a time when it wasn’t like this.

You watch Lily, trying to focus on measuring the baking soda without spilling it everywhere, her tongue poking out in concentration. She glances at you, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of a secret only she knows. It’s been like this all week—your daughter keeps sending you these knowing looks, barely able to contain whatever she’s hiding. She’s never been one for secrets, so it’s impressive that she’s kept it in this long.

“Mommy, can I add the vinegar now?” she asks, her voice just a little higher than usual, like she's bursting to say something else.

“Go for it, kiddo. Just a little bit at first, okay?” you reply, smiling at her enthusiasm. But before you can finish your sentence, Lily dumps the entire cup of vinegar in. The mixture foams up instantly, spilling over the sides of the bottle and flooding the tray in an eruption of bright red froth. Lily squeals in delight, clapping her hands, and you can't help but laugh with her.

Tony appears in the doorway, a curious smile on his face as he leans against the frame, arms crossed. “What’s going on here? More science experiments?” He winks at you, then focuses on Lily, who beams up at him, clearly holding in that same mysterious excitement.

“It was a big one!” Lily says proudly, pointing at the volcano. Tony steps forward, giving her an impressed nod and a fist bump that makes her giggle.

He straightens up, then gives you that look—the one that says he’s about to say something mischievous. “So, I’ve got a surprise for the two of you,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes bright with something more. “I thought it might be time for a family day out.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “A family day?”

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding perfectly innocent. “Just the three of us. I booked a place upstate. Thought we could get some fresh air, do something different.”

You give him a skeptical look, but Lily's practically bouncing in her seat, a bundle of barely contained excitement. “Yes, please! Can we go, Mommy?”

The enthusiasm in her voice is infectious. “Alright, alright,” you say, trying not to laugh at her obvious joy. “But Tony,” you add, giving him a look, “no suits, no AI, no tech distractions.”

He raises his hands, giving you a look of feigned innocence. “You have my word. Just a simple day with the two of you.”

That’s how you find yourself driving out of the city early the next morning, Tony at the wheel and Lily chattering happily in the backseat, her eyes glued to the landscape speeding by. It’s strange seeing him like this—just a man taking his family for a weekend getaway. It’s all so normal, yet it fills you with a warmth that’s hard to put into words.

You reach the cabin as the sun is high in the sky, casting golden light over the rustic wooden lodge nestled at the edge of a lake. The leaves are in full autumn splendor, a mix of fiery reds, deep oranges, and vibrant yellows that make everything look like it’s been painted by some master artist. Lily hops out of the car the moment it stops, rushing to explore, her delighted giggles echoing through the trees.

You and Tony watch her, both smiling, before he takes your hand. “Come on,” he says, guiding you towards the cabin. Inside, it’s cozy and inviting, with a large fireplace in the living room and big windows that let in the afternoon sunlight. It feels like the kind of place people dream of running away to.

The day passes in a blur of simple pleasures—roasting marshmallows, skipping stones with Lily on the lake, Tony’s arm around your shoulders as you laugh together. It feels like a perfect slice of life, something out of a story. And yet, there's something more simmering beneath the surface, a tension in Tony’s eyes that’s both thrilling and a little nerve-wracking. It feels like he's building up to something, but you're not sure what.

That evening, after Lily’s fallen asleep in one of the cabin’s cozy beds, you and Tony step outside to the porch, the stars bright above you in the clear, crisp night. You pull your sweater tighter around you, and Tony wraps an arm around your shoulders, his warmth comforting against the cool night air.

“This has been perfect,” you say softly, leaning into him.

Tony glances down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he smiles, a softness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. “It’s only going to get better,” he murmurs, and there’s that same glint of mischief in his eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, curious, but before you can ask, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out… a rock. Not just any rock, though—it’s painted with bright colors, a swirl of blues and greens with glitter sprinkled on top. In the middle is a heart, painstakingly painted in red.

Your eyes widen as you look at it. “Did… did you make this?”

Tony chuckles. “Let’s just say I had some help.” He glances towards the cabin where Lily is asleep, his face softening. “She insisted I do it right. No shortcuts, no tech. Just… paint and a lot of patience.”

You laugh, turning the rock over in your hands, admiring the effort. “Well, it’s beautiful,” you say, touched. “But I don’t understand—”

Before you can finish, Tony takes your hand, guiding you down the porch steps and towards the edge of the lake, the painted rock still in your hand. He stops by the water, looking out over the calm, moonlit surface. Then he turns to face you, taking both your hands in his, his gaze intense.

“I know I haven’t exactly been the picture of stability,” he begins, his voice quiet but steady. “And I know that you and Lily are a package deal—the two most important people in my life now.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a small, comforting gesture. “You both mean more to me than anything else ever has.”

Your heart is racing now, and you can feel the warmth in your cheeks as he takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I love you,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “I love you and Lily more than I thought I was capable of loving anyone.” He pauses, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And I want to be there for both of you. Always.”

It’s only then that he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. He opens it to reveal a ring—a delicate band with a single, radiant diamond, glittering under the moonlight.

Your breath catches, your eyes wide as he lowers himself onto one knee, still holding your hand. He looks up at you, his expression vulnerable in a way you’ve rarely seen before. “Will you marry me?”

The words hang in the air, beautiful and surreal, and for a moment you can only stare, your mind struggling to process the enormity of this moment. But then everything clicks into place—all the little moments, the shared laughter, the quiet talks on the balcony, the nights spent watching over Lily together. You realize that you’ve already made your choice. You made it a long time ago, the moment you let him into your life, into Lily’s life.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water. “Yes, Tony. A thousand times, yes.”

A huge grin breaks across his face as he slips the ring onto your finger, his hands warm and steady. And then he’s standing, pulling you into his arms, kissing you like it’s the first time all over again.

When you finally pull back, a familiar giggle breaks the silence, and you turn to see Lily standing on the porch, her little face lit up with a smile so wide it could rival the moon.

“I kept the secret, Mommy!” she exclaims proudly, rushing over to throw her arms around both of you. Tony scoops her up, laughing, and you can’t help but join in, the three of you caught in a bubble of happiness that feels like it will never burst.

You sit by the lake for a while longer, the three of you huddled together under a blanket, watching the stars. Lily falls asleep in Tony’s arms, her small hand still clutching the painted rock. As you lean your head on Tony’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of him, the softness of the ring on your finger, you realize that you have everything you’ve ever wanted right here.

You look up at him, your heart full. “So, when did you know you wanted this?” you ask quietly, your voice barely a whisper.

He glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “I think I’ve known for a while. But watching you and Lily, seeing the way you both just… fit into my life, like you were always meant to be there—that sealed it.”

You smile, your fingers lacing through his. “I think we were always meant to find each other.”

And as you sit there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world feels impossibly perfect. This is your family, your home, and you know, without a doubt, that you’ll hold onto this moment forever.

The weeks following your engagement pass in a flurry of plans, decisions, and endless little tasks, each one building toward the day that’s slowly starting to feel real: your wedding day. Tony, true to his style, has big ideas—ideas involving grand venues, designer dresses, and enough food to feed half of New York. But amidst all his extravagant visions, there’s one more excited than anyone else about every detail: Lily.

From the very first morning after Tony proposes, Lily becomes a self-appointed wedding expert. She’s up before the sun, sitting at the breakfast table with her favorite colored markers and a notebook, declaring her “wedding checklist” in all caps across the top of the page. She’s drawing flowers, dresses, cakes, and even seating plans (although, granted, her seating chart just shows her sitting next to everyone important).

“Mommy,” she says, pushing her notebook across the table, “we have to pick a cake first! That’s the most important part.”

Tony, sipping his coffee, nods gravely as if she’s made the most profound statement ever. “She’s got a point. Cake is a critical component.”

You laugh, reaching for her notebook. “Alright, cake first. But it’ll have to be something both of you like.”

“I like chocolate and strawberry!” she exclaims, her eyes bright.

“Noted,” Tony says, sliding his phone over and already searching for bakeries that specialize in grand wedding cakes. And just like that, it’s the first official wedding decision: a cake tasting with Lily front and center.

When the day of the cake tasting finally arrives, Lily comes along dressed in her favorite fancy dress—a soft pink number with a glittery belt. She drags both of you up to each cake display, pointing out all her favorites and reminding you multiple times which flavors she’s “approved.” The bakery owner, clearly smitten with her, lets her try samples of nearly every flavor on display. By the time you leave, Lily has a chocolate-stained grin and declares herself “very full, but still ready for more wedding stuff.”

Over the next few weeks, Lily’s enthusiasm for every aspect of the wedding grows exponentially. She wants to help choose the flowers, eagerly pointing out her favorites at each meeting. At the florist, she insists on showing you bouquets with big, vibrant blooms, which Tony, ever the doting soon-to-be dad, immediately insists on adding to the order. “If Lily wants them, we’ll make it work,” he says with a shrug, sending you a playful wink.

Then there’s the dress. Your gown shopping trip is a dream come true for Lily, who’s absolutely certain that her opinion is critical to finding the perfect dress. She examines each option with a serious expression, giving a small nod or a big “no” depending on her reaction. When you finally try on a gown with intricate lace details and a long, flowing train, her eyes widen, and she lets out a gasp. “Mommy! You look like a princess!”

You catch Tony’s reflection in the mirror as he stands off to the side, watching you with that unmistakable softness in his eyes. You can see him mouthing “wow” under his breath, and when you meet his gaze, there’s an unspoken promise in it—a promise of all the beautiful moments still ahead.

Lily, ever-dedicated to her role as wedding planner, also insists on helping with her own dress selection. You take her shopping for a junior bridesmaid dress, and after trying on several options, she settles on a beautiful white dress with a tulle skirt and a satin bow. She twirls in it, giggling and watching her reflection as if she, too, were preparing for her wedding day.

On the way home, she leans forward from the back seat, grinning at Tony. “Daddy, can I be in charge of the ring?”

Tony, glancing at you with a smile, nods. “You can be our official ring bearer and junior wedding coordinator. Think you’re up for the task?”

“Yup!” she says proudly. “I’ll be really careful!”

When the day of the wedding finally arrives, it’s everything you’d imagined and more—no detail spared, every element touched by Tony’s love of elegance and, of course, a bit of grandiosity. You’d agreed on a sprawling estate just outside the city, surrounded by gardens that are in full bloom, bathed in soft, golden sunlight that feels almost magical. Massive floral arrangements of white roses, lilies, and peonies line the aisle, creating a soft, enchanting fragrance that wafts gently in the breeze.

Lily’s eyes are wide with awe as she takes in the setting. She holds your hand tightly, her face a mixture of pride and excitement. She knows every part of the ceremony by heart, from when she’s supposed to walk down the aisle to where she’ll stand by your side. She’s practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes darting around as she tries to soak in every little detail of the day she helped plan.

As you prepare in the bridal suite, Lily stands by your side, admiring every part of your look with the utmost seriousness. She makes tiny adjustments to your veil and whispers, “You look perfect, Mommy.” Her sincerity nearly brings tears to your eyes, and you have to take a deep breath to keep from getting misty-eyed.

Meanwhile, outside, Tony has pulled out all the stops, sparing no expense on the venue, catering, or décor. There’s a sprawling tent set up with chandeliers, elegant table settings with custom menus, and an orchestra softly playing classical music. It’s grand and beautiful, yet somehow intimate, as if every detail has been chosen with you in mind.

As the ceremony begins, Lily leads the way down the aisle, clutching the satin ring pillow with utmost concentration, her face solemn as she carefully makes her way to the front. When she reaches Tony, she gives him a small, proud nod, and he grins, giving her a quick thumbs-up before his attention shifts to the end of the aisle, where you’ve just stepped into view.

The moment he sees you, his expression softens, and he gazes at you like you’re the only person in the world. You feel your heart flutter, the same excitement and nervousness filling you as when you first met. You walk toward him, every step bringing you closer to the future you’ve both dreamed of, and when you reach him, he takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The ceremony itself is beautiful, filled with words of love and promises that feel like they’ve been waiting forever to be spoken. When it’s time for the vows, Tony’s voice is steady, but there’s a slight quiver of emotion as he speaks. “I knew from the moment I met you that you’d change my life,” he begins, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I didn’t realize just how much you and Lily would become my life.”

His gaze shifts briefly to Lily, who’s standing beside you, watching him with wide eyes. “You’ve shown me a happiness I never thought I’d find, a family I didn’t even know I was looking for. I promise to love you both, to be there for you in every way, and to make our family my everything.”

The rest of his words blur in your mind as tears prick at your eyes, but you hold onto the warmth in his voice, the steady assurance in his touch.

When it’s your turn, you can barely get through the first few words before emotion chokes your voice. You promise to stand by him, to love him and cherish every moment with him and Lily. Your heart is so full, and every word feels like a vow not just to him, but to the life you’re building together.

Lily, watching you both, beams with pride as she hands over the rings with all the seriousness she can muster, her eyes shining as she watches her parents exchange them.

The moment the officiant pronounces you married, Tony pulls you into a kiss that’s filled with every unspoken feeling he’s held back, and as you part, there’s only happiness reflected in his eyes. The guests cheer, Lily lets out a delighted squeal, and you realize that this is everything you’d ever dreamed of.

The reception is a spectacular affair. The grand tent glows with hundreds of softly twinkling fairy lights, the tables are adorned with crystal and silk, and the food is decadent, the kind of feast fit for royalty. But through it all, the heart of the evening is your family. Tony makes a toast, his arm around your shoulders as he thanks everyone for being there and dedicates the night to you and Lily.

As the night goes on, you find yourself wrapped in Tony’s arms, watching as Lily flits around, entertained by guests and other children, her energy boundless.

“You know,” he murmurs, pulling you closer, “I don’t think I ever really understood what happiness could be until I met you. And now I have you, Lily, and this perfect life.”

You smile, reaching up to brush a hand along his cheek. “Well, Mr. Stark, you’ve officially made it a day we’ll never forget.”

Tony grins, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Here’s to a lifetime of them.”

And as you look around, at the friends and family gathered, the joy on Lily’s face, and the love in Tony’s eyes, you know that this is only the beginning.

A few months after the wedding, life settles into a rhythm that feels both new and wonderfully familiar. Tony has embraced every part of his role as a father, from helping Lily with her bedtime routine to planning weekend family outings. His love for her is fierce and unwavering, and you can see that she’s become the center of his world, just as much as you have. Lily’s adoration for him is just as strong, and in her eyes, Tony is already her father in every way that counts.

One evening, while you and Lily are going through her nightly bedtime ritual, an idea takes shape in your mind. You realize that making things official—having Tony formally adopt Lily as his daughter—could be a beautiful way to solidify the bond that already exists between them. But you also know this is something Lily should be involved in. After all, this is about her, too.

As you tuck her into bed, you bring up the idea gently, knowing that it might be a lot for her to process.

“Lily,” you begin softly, sitting on the edge of her bed and brushing a strand of hair from her face, “do you know what it means for someone to be adopted?”

She scrunches her nose, thinking hard. “It’s like…when someone gets to be in a family forever, right?”

You nod, smiling at her understanding. “That’s right, sweetheart. And I was thinking… what if Tony adopted you? That would make him your dad in every way—not just because he loves you like a daddy, but because it would be official, too.”

Lily tilts her head, her brows furrowing as she considers this. For a moment, she looks a little confused, as if the idea doesn’t quite make sense to her.

“But…he already is my daddy,” she says slowly, her eyes wide and questioning. “Why do we have to do anything special for that?”

You feel a pang of emotion, touched by her innocent view of family. To her, Tony’s love is already real and true, and a piece of paper could never define that. But you explain it as simply as you can, trying to help her see the gesture as an opportunity.

“It’s a way to show him that he’s your dad forever and always,” you say, smiling. “It’s something you can both look back on one day, and he’ll know how much you wanted him to be your daddy, too.”

Understanding seems to dawn on her face, and her eyes light up with excitement. “So… I get to ask him if he’ll be my real dad?”

“Yes,” you reply, your heart swelling. “If you want to, you can ask him. And maybe it could be a surprise?”

Her face breaks into a huge grin, and she claps her hands softly, clearly thrilled by the idea. “Yes! I want to surprise him!”

You watch as her mind races, her little fingers tapping against her blanket as she plans. “I want to make a card!” she exclaims suddenly, her voice bubbling with excitement. “I’ll draw me and Daddy, and I’ll ask him to be my dad forever!”

Her enthusiasm is contagious, and the next morning, she’s up with the sun, already digging out her art supplies and getting to work on her surprise. For the next few days, she’s laser-focused on the project, sneaking off to her room with markers and colored pencils, chattering to you about all the details she’s adding. She asks for help spelling words but insists on keeping her drawing a surprise, telling you that it has to be “just right” for Tony.

Finally, his birthday arrives. It’s a cozy evening celebration at home, with Lily helping you prepare a cake and hang up a few decorations. She can barely sit still during dinner, her eyes darting to the gift she’s hidden carefully behind a chair. When Tony finally opens his presents, she waits until the very end, watching with bated breath until it’s time to give him her card.

“Daddy,” she says, her voice filled with both excitement and a hint of nervousness, “I have a special present for you.”

Tony’s eyes light up with curiosity as she hands him the card, carefully crafted with crayon illustrations of stick-figure versions of the three of you, all holding hands. At the top, in her best handwriting, she’s written, “For my Daddy, Forever.”

He opens the card, and his eyes move over her drawing, then to the note she’s carefully written beneath it.

“Dear Daddy, will you please adopt me so I can be your real daughter forever? I love you so much. Love, Lily.”

There’s a quiet moment as he processes her words, his face shifting from surprise to understanding, and finally to deep, overwhelming emotion. His breath catches, and his hand comes up to cover his mouth as he fights to keep his composure. But his eyes shine with unshed tears, and as he reads her words again, a single tear slips down his cheek.

He sets the card down carefully and looks at Lily, his voice unsteady but filled with warmth. “You really want me to be your dad?”

She nods, her eyes bright and hopeful. “Yes! I want to be your real daughter, Daddy. Forever.”

He pulls her into his arms, holding her close, his voice thick with emotion as he whispers, “You have no idea how much this means to me, sweetheart. You’re my daughter, and you always will be.”

She squeezes him tightly, her little arms wrapped around his neck as she buries her face in his shoulder. Tony’s eyes meet yours over her shoulder, and there’s a depth of gratitude and love in his gaze that takes your breath away. In that moment, you see the man you fell in love with, the man who has become a father in every way that counts.

Finally, he pulls back, brushing a hand gently over her hair. “Thank you, Lily,” he says softly. “Thank you for choosing me to be your dad.”

She giggles, wiping a tear from his cheek with her little hand. “Now you’re a real daddy! And we’re a real family forever!”

Tony chuckles, pulling her close again, and you join them, wrapping your arms around both of them as you sit together, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you in the best way possible. You’re a family—one built on love, trust, and a bond that goes far beyond words or papers. And as you sit there, all three of you wrapped in each other’s arms, you know that this moment, this promise, is something you’ll cherish forever.

Later that night, when Lily’s asleep, Tony holds the card in his hands again, tracing over her words with a soft, almost reverent touch. He glances up at you, his voice still hushed with emotion. “I didn’t think I could love her any more than I already did,” he whispers, his eyes glistening. “But knowing that she chose me…I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like this.”

You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’ve given her so much, Tony. She feels safe, loved…like she finally belongs. And that’s because of you.”

He looks down, his smile soft but filled with the quiet strength that defines him. “I may not have known what I was missing before,” he murmurs, pulling you close, “but now I do. And I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

As he kisses you softly, his hand resting on the card, you know that this journey, the one that started with a small family and a big love, is only just beginning. And together, you’re ready for every beautiful, imperfect, incredible moment still to come.

As you sit together in the soft glow of the dimmed lights, the quiet hum of night settling around you, Tony’s eyes stay fixed on you. He still holds Lily’s card gently in his hands, his thumb brushing over the childishly scrawled words, but his gaze is on you—filled with a depth of love and gratitude that wraps around you like a warm embrace.

Slowly, he places the card on the table beside him, and without breaking eye contact, he pulls you onto his lap, his hands warm as they rest on your hips. The quiet of the house feels heavy, intimate, filled with the unspoken emotions that tonight has stirred between you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft, the words laced with a warmth that makes your heart flutter. “For letting me be part of this. For making me feel like…like I belong.”

You cup his face, your thumb grazing over the line of his jaw as you tilt his face up to meet yours. “You’re more than just a part of it, Tony. You are it. You and Lily—you’re my family.”

There’s a heat that flares in his gaze as you speak, a spark that kindles something deeper, something that has simmered beneath the surface, fed by months of tenderness, laughter, and every precious moment you’ve shared together. His fingers tighten on your hips, pulling you closer, and before you know it, his lips are on yours—warm, insistent, and filled with a passion that leaves you breathless.

The kiss deepens, his hand sliding up to the back of your neck, holding you close as his other arm wraps around your waist. You melt into him, feeling the familiar strength of his body beneath yours, the way he grounds you, makes you feel cherished, wanted. The air between you thickens, each kiss growing more fervent, each touch more urgent. It’s as though he’s trying to pour all the gratitude, the love, the overwhelming devotion he feels into this moment, and you can feel yourself responding, matching his intensity with every beat of your heart.

The quiet of the house fades into the background as he lifts you, carrying you to the bedroom with a confidence and ease that makes you feel weightless. You can’t help but laugh, breathless and giddy, as he sets you down, his mouth finding yours again before you can even catch your breath. The room fills with the sounds of whispered promises and shared laughter, of murmured declarations that leave no doubt about how much he loves you, how deeply he’s committed to this life you’ve built together.

And as the night fades into the early hours of morning, you find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, drifting into sleep with a sense of peace and fulfillment that feels as natural as breathing.

A few months pass, filled with the easy rhythm of family life. Tony continues to be an incredible father to Lily, and each day brings you closer as a family. But lately, you’ve been feeling…different. A certain tiredness lingers, and you’ve noticed small changes, ones that you haven’t quite been able to explain. And then one day, it hits you.

You buy a test, waiting anxiously until you see the result that confirms what your heart already suspected—you’re pregnant.

The realization floods you with a blend of emotions, joy and disbelief mixing into a giddy, breathless excitement. You can hardly wait to tell Tony, and you spend the rest of the day trying to figure out the perfect way to share the news.

That evening, when Lily has gone to bed, you find Tony in the kitchen, unwinding with a glass of wine. He smiles as you enter, setting his glass down and reaching for you with a warm familiarity that still makes your heart skip a beat.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “You looked deep in thought earlier. Everything alright?”

You take his hand, guiding him to sit with you at the table, the same spot where he read Lily’s card just months ago. His gaze turns curious, and you see the soft crease between his brows as he studies your face, sensing something important.

“Tony,” you say, your voice a little shaky with excitement, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

He sits up a little straighter, his eyes filled with gentle concern. “What is it?”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly as you look into his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence as he processes your words, his face shifting from surprise to dawning comprehension. His eyes widen, and then a look of pure, unrestrained joy spreads across his face. He lets out a soft laugh, his hand moving to cradle your face, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek.

“You’re serious?” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. “We’re going to have a baby?”

You nod, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you see the happiness radiating from him. “Yes, we are.”

He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as he buries his face in your shoulder. You can feel the slight tremor in his hands, the unspoken gratitude in his embrace. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are bright with unshed tears, his smile one of pure, unfiltered joy.

“We’re going to have a baby,” he repeats, as though he’s trying to wrap his mind around the words. “A baby. With you.”

You laugh, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around you once more. “Yes. And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather do this with.”

For the rest of the evening, he can’t stop smiling, can’t stop looking at you with that look of wonder, as though he’s witnessing a miracle. And it doesn’t take long before he’s talking about baby names, already picturing what this little one will be like, how they’ll fit into the family you’ve created.

A few days later, you and Tony decide it’s time to tell Lily. You’re sitting with her in the living room, surrounded by her favorite stuffed animals, when Tony clears his throat, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Lily,” he begins, his tone soft and warm, “we have some exciting news. Do you remember when we talked about family and how much we love each other?”

Lily nods, her big eyes attentive as she listens.

“Well,” you say, reaching out to take her hand, “you’re going to be a big sister. There’s a baby growing inside Mommy’s belly.”

Her face lights up with surprise, her eyes widening as she looks between the two of you. “A baby?” she whispers, a mixture of awe and excitement in her voice.

“Yes,” Tony says, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You’re going to have a little brother or sister. Someone to play with, someone who’ll look up to you.”

For a moment, Lily’s face glows with joy. But then, her expression shifts, and you see a flicker of uncertainty cross her face. She lowers her gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“Will…will you still love me as much?” she asks, her voice small, a hint of sadness creeping into her tone. “If the new baby is his real baby?”

Your heart clenches at her words, and you feel a pang of understanding. You hadn’t anticipated how this news might make her feel—especially with the bond she’s built with Tony. Gently, you pull her onto your lap, holding her close as Tony kneels beside you, his eyes full of compassion.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you say softly, “we will always love you just the same. Nothing will ever change that. You’re part of this family, and that means you’re loved just as much as anyone else. Always.”

Tony places a hand on her shoulder, his voice low and filled with warmth. “Lily, you’re my daughter, and I love you with all my heart. Nothing in this world could ever make me love you any less. Not this baby, not anything. You’re my first kiddo, and that makes you incredibly special to me.”

She looks up at him, her eyes big and round, a faint glimmer of relief softening her expression.

“Really?” she whispers, her voice trembling just a bit.

“Really,” he replies, his hand moving to cup her face gently. “You’re my daughter, Lily. That will never change. This baby just means we get to love someone else alongside you. It doesn’t change how much we love you. It only means our family is growing, and you’re a big part of that.”

Lily’s face brightens, a shy smile slowly spreading across her lips. “Okay,” she says softly, her voice a little more sure. “I think…I think I’m excited, too. I want to be a big sister.”

Tony pulls her into a tight hug, and you wrap your arms around both of them, feeling the love and warmth of this moment settle into your heart. The three of you sit together, the promise of this new life filling the room with a quiet joy, a sense of unity that only grows stronger with every passing day.

In the coming weeks, you find yourself daydreaming about the future—the laughter and love that will fill your home, the way Tony will hold this new little one with the same tenderness he shows Lily, and how, together, you’re building a family that’s bound by something deeper than words.

And as you look at the man who’s become your husband, your confidant, and now the father of your children, you know that no matter what the future holds, this family is yours, built on love, and here to stay.

Your pregnancy unfolds in a swirl of excitement, adjustments, and the joy of having Tony and Lily at your side through every step. From the moment you tell him, Tony barely lets you lift a finger. He insists on taking over almost every household task, whether it’s cooking, cleaning, or fetching snacks. You only have to mention feeling a little tired, and he’s by your side in an instant, urging you to rest.

“Here, I’ve got it,” he says with a wink as you start to clear plates after dinner one evening. He moves with an air of confidence, quickly picking up the dishes before you can even make it halfway to the sink. “You just sit back and relax. Doctor’s orders.”

You roll your eyes, laughing, but sit down anyway, grateful for his protectiveness. Watching him bustle around the kitchen with his characteristic enthusiasm warms your heart. Tony’s even rearranged his work schedule, making sure he’s home for every doctor’s appointment and ultrasound. His excitement is contagious; he’s like a kid counting down to Christmas, brimming with energy every time you bring home a new baby item or when you finally feel the first kicks.

Lily, meanwhile, has become your little shadow, constantly finding ways to “help” around the house, even if her help sometimes leads to little mishaps. She insists on making you tea every morning, a ritual she takes very seriously. One morning, she even decides to bring it to you in bed, balancing the tray as carefully as she can. Just as she reaches the bedside, a few drops slosh over the rim, but she beams with pride.

“Look, Mommy! I made it all by myself!” she declares, her little chest puffed out.

You smile, cradling the mug she hands you. “It’s perfect, sweetheart. Thank you so much.”

Tony chuckles, ruffling her hair as he says, “Best tea in the house, Lily.”

She beams, thrilled by the praise, and makes a habit of it every morning after that. You can’t help but marvel at her kindness, and even though there are some spills and little accidents along the way, each gesture fills you with gratitude.

As your belly grows and the pregnancy progresses, you go for an ultrasound, the three of you eager to learn the baby’s gender. Tony’s hand is wrapped around yours, his grip firm as the image of your baby appears on the screen. Lily sits on Tony’s lap, her eyes round with wonder as she gazes at the screen.

When the technician announces, “It’s a boy!” Tony’s face lights up with joy, and he laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Lily’s excitement bubbles over as she hugs both of you.

“A little brother!” she exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

On the drive home, you and Tony decide to let Lily pick out his name. She spends the next few days mulling it over, scribbling ideas on paper, and discussing options with all her stuffed animals. Finally, one evening, she presents her choice proudly.

“I want to name him Leo,” she says, looking at both of you with such confidence that you know she’s thought it through.

Tony smiles, nodding in agreement. “Leo. I like it. Strong name for a strong kid.”

You wrap your arm around her, pulling her close. “Leo it is,” you say, and Lily’s face practically glows with happiness. You couldn’t have chosen a better name yourself.

Months later, the day finally arrives. It’s the middle of the night when the contractions start, and Tony immediately springs into action, calm but focused, gathering your hospital bag and guiding you to the car. His hand never leaves yours, and his voice soothes you, steady and comforting.

“It’s happening,” he whispers with a smile, kissing your forehead as the hospital comes into view. “We’re going to meet our son.”

Hours pass in a blur, and Tony is by your side for every minute, his presence a source of calm as you work through the labor. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the first cry of your newborn son. The sound fills the room, and your heart swells with a love so fierce it takes your breath away. The nurse places little Leo in your arms, and you marvel at his tiny features, his soft wisps of hair, and the way his eyes open just a sliver as if he’s taking in his new world.

Tony watches you, tears glistening in his eyes, and he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “He’s perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Just like his mom.”

You laugh softly, brushing a tear from his cheek as he leans down to cradle his son in his arms. The way he looks at Leo—with such awe and tenderness—fills you with warmth, knowing that this little boy will have a father who loves him beyond words.

A few hours later, after you’ve had time to rest, Tony returns to the hospital with Lily, who practically bursts into the room, her face shining with excitement. She tiptoes over to the bed, her eyes wide as she gazes at her little brother bundled in your arms.

“Hi, Leo,” she whispers, reaching out to touch his tiny hand with a gentle, reverent awe.

You smile, lifting him slightly so she can see him better. “Would you like to hold him?”

Her eyes go wide with surprise, and she nods, carefully sitting down beside you as Tony helps guide Leo into her arms. She holds him, her small arms wrapped protectively around him, and you can see the absolute adoration in her gaze as she studies his face, her thumb tracing lightly over his tiny fingers.

“Hi, Leo,” she whispers again, her voice soft. “I’m your big sister, Lily.”

Leo stirs, his eyes opening just a fraction, and Lily’s face lights up, as though she’s witnessing something magical. Tony sits beside you, his arm around your shoulders, and together, the two of you watch Lily and Leo, feeling the love that fills the room—a love that has only grown stronger with each addition to your family.

In that moment, as you sit surrounded by the family you’ve built, you know that you have everything you’ve ever wanted. This is your world now: Tony, Lily, and Leo.

if you liked the story don't forget to leave a like and a reblog and if you want to read more drop a follow! <3

[lousypotatoes]

Women Think I'm Tasty

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6

Reader has grey skin, and monarch butterfly wings, they can be any color that you want. This is reader's outfit and shoes. If you want something different, you're more than welcome to imagine something else!!

This chapter takes place during the pilot episode.

Song Recommendation:

Set Fire To The Rain - Adele

"Charlie? Are you okay?"

Charlie turned around and saw her aunt walking towards her, a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Y/N," Charlie said. "The extermination just has me thinking that's all.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," Y/N said gently, grabbing onto Charlie's shoulders. "Your idea is amazing and its gonna work, I'm sure of it."

Charlie smiled. "Thanks Y/N,"

"That's what I'm here for, kiddo," Y/N smiled back. "Now c'mon, let's go back inside. It smells gross out here."

Y/N was sitting on the couch in the hotel, scrolling on her phone, reading about the latest extermination and the turf wars.

"This is all so fucking stupid," she muttered as she scrolled. "I hate the end of extermination day so fucking much."

"Y/N, are you coming?" said a voice.

Y/N looked up and saw her niece's girlfriend, Vaggie.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked.

"We're going to the news station to try and get the hotel out there," Vaggie explained.

"Oh shit!" Y/N exclaimed, jumping off the couch. "I totally forgot that was today! Yeah, I'm coming, let me just get my shoes on."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Charlie said.

"No, I want to," Y/N said as she put her boots on. "You're gonna need all the support you can get. Besides, I want this to happen almost as much as you do."

"Thanks Y/N," Charlie said hugging her aunt. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"The feeling is mutual," Y/N laughed, hugging Charlie back. "Now c'mon we don't wanna be late do we?"

"Good afternoon, I'm Katie Killjoy,"

"And I'm Tom Trench,"

Y/N sat on the couch in the dressing room, watching the news play on the T.V., her leg bouncing up and down nervously.

"Chaos out of Pentagram City today as the turf war is raging on the west side," Tom Trench said on the T.V. "Between notable king pin Sir Pentious and self-proclaimed spunky powerhouse, Cherri Bomb."

"That's right Tom," Katie Killjoy said. "After the recent extermination, many areas are now up for grabs."

The T.V showed footage of the fight between Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb, the two of them throwing egg creatures and bombs at each other.

"Demons all over Hell are already duking it out to gain new territory," Katie said as the footage played.

"Those two seem to be really going at it, huh?" Tom said as the footage finished.

"It looks like they're fighting tooth and nail for that hot spot," Katie said, putting an actual tooth in her mouth and eating it.

'Gross,' Y/N thought, grimacing.

"And I'd sure like to nail her hot spot," Tom chuckled.

"You are a limp dick jackass, Tom. Or should I say..." Katie said, pouring hot coffee onto Tom's lap. "No dick."

Tom held his lap, trying to keep his sounds of pain down.

"Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of Hell's own head honcho," Katie said, ignoring Tom. "Who's here to discuss her brand-new passion project. All that and more after the break."

Y/N got up, walking over to Charlie and Vaggie.

"You remember what to say?" Vaggie asked as she finished fixing Charlie's bow tie.

Charlie took in a deep breath. "Yes! Let's do this!"

"Just look at me and I'll mouth it to you," Vaggie said, making Charlie frown.

"Come on Vaggie, I know what to say," Charlie groaned. "I just feel like we need to...I don't know, make things sound more exciting."

Charlie gasped. "Ohhhh what if I s-"

"Sing a song about it?" Y/N finished. "Charlie, sweetie, I love you and your ideas, but please for the love of Satan, please don't sing.

"Your aunt's right, this is serious." Vaggie said, grabbing onto Charlie's shoulders.

"Well you know, I'm better at expressing myself and my goals through song," Charlie said, climbing on the table.

"I know and you're great at it but," Y/N struggled to find the right words. "Life isn't a musical hun."

"Fine. But I have these other ideas of what to say," Charlie said, jumping up and down. "The highlighted bits are the best parts!"

Vaggie took the paper and read it, Y/N skimmed through it over Vaggie's shoulder.

"It's all highlighted," Vaggie said.

"Is that a drawing?" Y/N asked.

"Yes! That's the happy ending scene!" Charlie exclaimed, grabbing Vaggie's and Y/N's shoulders. "Everyone's smiling and happy in Heaven!"

"I don't think it's that simple," Vaggie said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Just please follow the talking points that the three of us went over."

"And do NOT sing!" Y/N said.

"Okayyy fine," Charlie groaned as an alarm bell went off, signaling that the commercial break was over. "I'll just have to result to my impeccable improv skills." she said, walking away.

Y/N looked over at Vaggie, who had a worried look on her face.

"Hey," Y/N said, putting her arm around Vaggie's shoulders. "She'll be fine, I know it."

"I hope so," Vaggie sighed.

Suddenly, the T.V. screen turned on. The two of them watched intently.

"Welcome back," Katie said, her neck cracking in an unnatural way. "So, Charlotte,"

"It's Charlie," Charlie said awkwardly.

"Whatever," Katie dismissed. "Tell us about this new passion project you've been insistently pestering our news station about!"

"How many times did Charlie call the new station?" Y/N asked.

"37 times," Vaggie muttered.

"37!? What!?"

"Well," Charlie said, looking around. She made eye contact with Vaggie and Y/N, and they urged her to go on.

"As most of you know, I was born here in Hell and growing up, I always tried to see the good in everything around me," she said, as Katie killed a bug, the bug's blood landing on Charlie's cheek. "Hell is my home and you are my people. We...we just went through another extermination. We lost so many souls, and it breaks my heart to see my people being slaughtered every year and no one is even given a chance!" she banged her fist on the table.

"I can't stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such violence," she said, getting up and walking around.

Vaggie and Y/N looked at each other in concern.

"Soo, I've been thinking," Charlie said. "Isn't there a more humane way to endure overpopulation here in Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through...redemption? Well, I think yes! So that's what this project aims to achieve!"

"Ladies and gentlemen," she said, walking back over to the reporter's desk and sitting down. "I'm opening up a first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!"

It was quiet, people stared at her in confusion and shock.

"You know, 'cause hotels are for people passing through, temporarily," Charlie laughed awkwardly.

Y/N slapped her forehead. "She's getting killed out there," she muttered.

"I figure it would serve a purpose," Charlie said looking down. "A place to work towards redemption...yay!"

"Hah! Stupid bitch," the cameraman beside Y/N laughed. In one swift move, Y/N punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground.

"Serves you right asshole," she muttered.

"Look, every single one of you has something good deep down inside, I know you do." Charlie said sincerely. Suddenly her eyes widened, and she smirked. "Maybe I'm not getting through to you."

"Oh no," Vaggie and Y/N said at the same time.

~Happy Day In Hell song plays out (I'm too lazy to write out the whole thing)~

After Charlie was done singing her song, she was standing on the desk, breathing heavily.

"Wow," said a random demon. "That was shit."

Everybody started to laugh. Charlie's face started to fall.

Y/N looked around, wanting to punch everybody in there in the face for laughing.

"What in the nine circles makes you think a single citizen of Hell would give two shits about becoming a better person?" Katie laughed. "You have no proof that this little experiment even works! You want people to be good? Just because?"

"Well," Charlie said. "We have a patron already, who believes in our cause, and he's shown incredible progress!"

The crowd oohed.

"Oh?" Katie said. "And who might that be?"

"Don't say his name, don't say his name," Y/N said.

"Oh, just someone named Angel Dust,"

"The porn star?" Tom asked.

"You fucking mutt, Tom," Katie said, scratching the desk "In any case, That's not even an accomplishment. I'm sure you can get that hooker to do anything with enough sugar and lube."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Charlie leaned in closer to Katie. "He's been behaved, clean, and out of trouble for two weeks now."

Suddenly, Katie pushed Charlie off the desk. "We are receiving word that a new player has entered the ongoing turf war!" she said cheerfully. "Let's go to the live feed."

The footage showed Angel Dust stepping on the egg creatures and shooting guns

"Oh shit," Y/N muttered. "I swear, I'm gonna kick that spider's ass."

"It looks like the one who just joined the battle is none other than porn actor, Angel Dust!" Katie said. "What a juicy coincidence! You must feel really stupid right now."

Katie and Tom started to laugh. "Ratings!" The two of them said, doing jazz hands.

"Don't look at this!" Charlie said, trying to block out the green screen footage.

"Well, it sure looks like your little project is dead on arrival." Katie said. "Tell us, how does it feel to be such a total failure?" Katie started laughing

"That's it," Y/N said, walking towards the front, pushing the crowd out of the way.

"Yeah, well, how does it feel that I got your pen huh? Bitch!"

Katie stopped laughing.

Charlie laughed awkwardly, already knowing that she was in some deep shit. "Oops," she said, putting the pen back down.

Tom immediately ran, and Katie jumped on Charlie.

"Hey, cock sucker!" Y/N yelled, jumping onto Katie's back. "Get the FUCK off my niece!"

Using all the strength she could muster she kicked Katie as hard as she could, making Katie pull on her wings.

Charlie and Katie fought for a little while longer, with Y/N trying to pull Katie off her. Somehow, Tom Trench caught on fire. The four of them started screaming.

"I said get the FUCK off of her!" Y/N screamed, pulling Katie off and grabbing onto Charlie's hand. "Vaggie! C'mon! Let's go!"

"I swear I'm gonna fucking kill Angel!"

Y/N, Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel Dust sat in the limo.

Charlie was looking out the window, Angel was playing with window button, and Y/N and Vaggie were glaring at him.

"What?" Angel asked.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Y/N cried out. "What the fuck were you doing!?"

"I owed my girl buddy a solid," Angel said. "Isn't that a 'redeeming' quality? Helping friends with stuff."

"Not with turf wars that result in territorial genocide!" Vaggie yelled.

"You win some, you lose a few hundred," Angel laughed, putting his feet up on the seat. "It wasn't that bad anyway,"

He continued to play with the window button until Vaggie threw a knife at it, breaking it.

"Oh, come on! I had to!" he said. "My credibility was on the line! I mean, what kind of repuation would I have if people found out I was tryin' to go clean? It just throws out my entire persona."

"Your credibilty, are you serious?" Y/N asked. "What about the hotels? You made us look like a fucking joke!"

"No, no, no, babe," Angel said. "Jokes are funny. I made you look...uhh...sad. And pathetic! Like an orphan with no arms or legs...with progeria! Right, now I'm bummed thinkin' about it. This thing have any liquor?"

"Can you please just try to take this seriously?" Vaggie asked.

"Fine, I'll try, just don't get your taco in a twist, baby."

"Was that you trying to be sexist or racist?"

"Whatever pisses you off more," Angel said, looking for booze. "Is there seriously no liquor in here?"

"We should just kill him," Y/N said to Vaggie.

"Too late, toots," Angel said. "Wait, would that make me double dead? Where exactly do I go? To double hell?" Angel started laughing. "Sorry, you're stuck with me, bitches, get used to it."

Vaggie started muttering in Spanish.

"Listen, who cares is some jackoffs got hurt?" Angel said. "Most of them are ugly freaks. Look around, you got a bunch of Harley Quinn babies down here."

"You're one to talk," Y/N muttered, making sure Angel heard.

"Hey! This body is flawless. Everyone wants some of me, and I got the creepy fan letters to prove it."

"Ew, gross, put that fucking thing away," Y/N said, not wanting to look at the creepy fan letter any longer.

"That was really uncool, you know, Angel," Charlie said, finally speaking up.

"Uncool!?" Vaggie cried. "After that trainwreck there is no way anyone is gonna want to stay at the hotel! All thanks to you and your selfish bullshit!"

"Does that mean I don't have a free room anymore?"

It was quiet for a moment. Y/N debated whether she should kill him right then and there.

"Hey, come on, we don't know if things are over yet," Charlie said. "Y/N, Vaggie, try to relax, it'll be okay!"

Vaggie smiled softly when Charlie put her hand on her shoulder. It made Y/N happy knowing that Charlie found someone who cared about her just as much as she and Lucifer did.

Finally, the limo reached the hotel, the four of them getting out and walking into the hotel.

Y/N flopped down on the couch, Vaggie sat down next to her.

"It's probably a good idea to get some actual food in this place," Angel said, sucking on a popsicle. "You know, to feed all the wayward souls you got in here." Angel laughed.

Sensing that Charlie wasn't in the mood, Angel stopped laughing and walked away.

Y/N was sore and tired, she didn't even pay attention to when Charlie walked away. Right as she was about to doze off, Charlie ran into the room.

"Vaggie! Y/N!"

"What now?" Y/N groaned.

"The Radio Demon is at the door,"

"What!?" Vaggie and Y/N said.

"Uhh who?" Angel asked.

"What should I do?" Charlie asked.

"Okay, well, um, whatever you do, don't let him in!" Y/N said, standing up.

Charlie walked to the front door and opened it up.

"What did I just say?"

Vaggie got up and grabbed her spear, Y/N not far behind her.

"Stop right there!" Vaggie yelled, holding her spear to his throat. "I know your game, and I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone here you pompous, cheesy, talk show, shit lord!"

"Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here," Alastor said, his mouth not moving. "I would have done so."

Y/N very slowly started to back up, not wanting to be close to the Radio Demon.

"Now, I'm here because I want to help!" Alastor said cheerfully.

"Umm excuse me?" Y/N asked, dumbfounded.

"Hello? Is this thing on?" Alastor asked, tapping his cane/microphone.

"No, no, I heard you loud and clear," Y/N said warily. "You want to help us?"

"Yes! I want to help with you with this ridiculous you're trying to do! This hotel!" Alastor said. "I want to help you run it."

"Uhhh why?" Charlie asked.

"Why does anyone do anything?" Alastor laughed. "Sheer, absolute boredom!"

Y/N suspiciously eyes him up and down.

"I've lacked inspiration for decades," Alastor said, pushing Vaggie. "My work became mundane, lacking focus, aimless! I've come to create a new form of entertainment!"

"Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as entertainment?" Charlie said awkwardly.

Alastor laughed. "It's the purest kind, my dear," he said. "Reality! Cruel passion! And after all, the world is a stage, and the stage, is a world of entertainment."

"So, does this mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate a demon?" Charlie asked hopefully but was cut off by Alastor laughing.

"Of course not!" he laughed. "That's wacky nonsense! Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! No, no, no, no, I don't think there's anything left that can save such loathsome sinners," he said, looking over at Y/N, Vaggie, and Angel. "The chance given was the life they lived before, the punishment is this! There is no undoing what is done."

"Then why are you here, if you don't believe in our cause?" Y/N asked, her eyebrow raised.

"Consider is an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!" Alastor said, spinning Charlie. "I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment, only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure,"

Y/N stared at him with uneasiness.

"Right," Charlie said, removing herself from Alastor's grasp.

"Yes indeedy!" Alastor said, leading Charlie away. "I see big things coming our way, and who better to help you then..."

Y/N, Vaggie, and Angel stared at him as he walked off with Charlie.

"So, uh, what's the deal with smiles over there?" Angel asked.

"You've never heard of Alastor before?" Y/N asked. "You've been down here longer than me and Vaggie."

Angel shrugged his shoulders.

"The Radio Demon? One of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?" Y/N asked.

"Eh, not big on politics," Angel said, crossing his arms.

"Ugh, you explain, Vaggie," Y/N said. "I have a headache."

"Fine," Vaggie groaned, then cleared her throat. "Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell, seemingly overnight. He began to topple overlords who had been dominant for centuries. That kind of raw power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcasted his carnage all throughout Hell, just so everyone could witness his ability. Sinners started calling him the Radio Demon, as lazy as that is. Many have speculated what unimaginable forces enabled him to rival our world's most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing's for sure, he's an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can't risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!" Vaggie finished.

"Are ya done?" Angel said. "He looks like a strawberry pimp!"

"Well, I don't trust him!" Vaggie said.

"To be fair," Angel said. "Do you trust any man?"

Y/N elbowed him in his ribcage, hard, as Vaggie got up and walked over to Charlie.

"Ow!" he said, rubbing his side. "That fucking hurt!"

"Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't act like a self asorbed asshole then!"

"Says you, you uptight, prissy bitch!"

"At least I don't have to fuck greasy truckers to make some cash!"

"At least greasy truckers want to actually fuck me!"

"How is that an insult? That's just sad!"

The two of them continued to argue until Charlie started to speaking to Alastor, catching Y/N's attention.

"Okay, so, Al," she said. "You're sketchy as fuck and you clearly see what I'm trying to do here as a joke. But I don't. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove that they can be better, so I'm taking your offer to help, on the condition that there be no trickster, voodoo strings attached." she finished, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"So it's a deal then?" Alastor asked, holding out his hand.

Green light started to emit in the room, almost knocking Y/N, Vaggie and Angel over.

"Nope!" Charlie said. "No shaking, no deals, I....hmm...as princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I uh hearby order that you help out with this hotel, for as long as you desire.

It was quiet for a moment. Charlie looked over at Vaggie and Y/N, Vaggie looked to the side, a concerned look on her face. Y/N shrugged her shoulders.

"Sound fair?" Charlie asked.

"Hmm, fair enough,"

"Cool beans,"

Alastor hummed while he looked around, suddenly he grabbed Vaggie by the chin. "Smile my dear!" he said. "You know you're never fully dressed without one."

Alastor continued to walk around, humming.

"What's he doing?" Y/N whispered to Vaggie.

"No clue," she whispered back. "But whatever it is, I don't like it."

"So where is your hotel staff?" Alastor asked Charlie.

"Uhh well..." Charlie said, looking over at Vaggie and Y/N.

Alastor laughed. "You're going to need more than that,"

Behind Alastor's back, Y/N flipped him off.

"And what you can do my feminine fellow?" Alastor asked Angel.

"I can suck your dick!"

"Hah! No!"

"Your loss,"

"Well, this just won't do," Alastor said. "I supposed I can cash in a few favors to liven things up."

"Um, what do you mean by that?" Y/N asked, Alastor ignored her.

He snapped his fingers, and something appeared in the fireplace.

He walked over and picked it up. It was small and had soot all over it, whatever it was.

Suddenly, it's eye opened, staring at them all. Y/N backed up.

It moved and all the soot off of it was gone. It was a little demon, resembling a cockroach. She smiled at the four of them, her one eye looking around.

"This little darling is Niffty," Alastor said, dropping her.

"Hi! I'm Niffty!" she said, waving at them "It's been a while since I've made new friends! Why are you all women? Is there any men here!? I'm sorry, that's rude. Oh man, this place is filthy! This place really needs a lady's touch, which is weird because you're all ladies, no offense. Oh my gosh this is awful!" she said, running around, dusting.

The four of them stared at Niffty in confusion, and a little bit of fear.

Alastor snapped his fingers again and a grumpy looking cat hybrid appeared.

"What the fuck is this?" the cat asked.

"You!" he said, pointing at Alastor.

"Oh, Husker, my good friend, glad you could make it!" Alastor said.

'So that's his name,' Y/N thought. 'He's not that bad looking.'

"Don't you 'Husker' me you son of a bitch!" Husker said. "I was about to win the whole damn pot!"

"Good to see you too!"

"What the hell do you want with me this time?"

"My friend, I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services, I hope that's okay!" Alastor said.

"Are you shittin' me?"

"Hmm, no I don't think so!" Alastor said cheerfully.

Husker pushed Alastor off of him. "You thought it would be some kind of big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere!?" he said. "You think I'm some kind of fucking clown!?"

"Maybe,"

"I ain't doing no fucking charity job," Husker said.

"Well, I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment." Alastor said, pointing at the hotel bar. "With your charming smile and welcoming energy, this job was made for you. Don't worry my friend, I can make this more welcoming, if you wish," Alastor said, summoning a bottle of booze.

Husker stared at the bottle for a moment.

"What? You think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze!?" Husker said, grabbing the bottle. "Well you can," he said downing the bottle.

'An alchoholic, even better.' Y/N thought.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Vaggie said. "No bar! No alchohol! This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin, not some kind of brothel man cave!"

"Shut up!" Angel said, tackling Vaggie. "We are keeping this!" he said, pointing to Husker.

"Hey," he said, leaning on the bar.

"Go fuck yourself," Husk said

"Only if you watch me,"

Y/N pushed Angel out of the way. "Sorry about him, he's horny all the time, you get used to it after a while."

Husk looked her up and down, a small smile coming onto his face. Before he could say something, Charlie came and pushed herself in between them.

"Oh my gosh! Welcome to the Happy Hotel!" she exclaimed, stars in her eyes. "You are going to love it here!"

"I lost the ability to love years ago," he said, drinking more of the booze.

"So, what do you think?" Alastor asked.

"This is amazing!" Charlie said, a huge smile on her face.

"Not bad, I'll give you that," Y/N said, walking towards him.

"It's okay," Vaggie said.

Alastor laughed, pulling the three of them closer to him. "This is going to be very entertaining!"

Vaggie and Y/N removed themselves from his grasp, Y/N walked back to the bar.

~Alastor's song plays. I forgot the name of it~

Before Alastor could finish his song, there was an explosion outside, creating a hole in the wall. That piece of wall flew and hit Niffty.

Looking outside, Y/N saw the steampunk looking blimp that was on the news that day.

"Well, well, well, we meet yet again, Alasstor," Sir Pentious said.

"Do I know you?" Alastor asked.

Sir Pentious' face fell. "Oh yes you do, and this time I have the element of surprisse!"

A ray gun came out of the blimp, pointing at the seven of them.

"I'm so evil!" Sir Pentious laughed.

Suddenly, a portal opened up beneath the blimp, black tentacles came out of it, grabbing onto the blimp.

Y/N could hear Sir Pentious screaming.

Suddenly, the portal dissapered and the blimp exploded.

Everyone was looking at Alastor with a 'what the fuck' look on their faces.

"Well, I'm starved!" Alastor said. "Who wants some jambalaya! My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for jambalaya. In fact, it nearly killed her!"

"I hate my life," Y/N heard Husker mutter.

"Don't we all?" Y/N said as they walked back into the hotel. "I'm Y/N by the way, do you mind if I call you Husk instead of Husker? It takes less time to say."

Husker looked at her, confusion on his face, then that small smile came back onto his face.

"No, I wouldn't mind one bit, Y/N,"

sorry that there isn't more husk, he doesnt have a lot of screen time in the pilot 😭

i wanna try the mcrib from mcdonalds

this lovely banner was made by the lovely @al-of-the-stars

and also i wont be uploading the next chapter of singin in the rain fro a few days, cuz my amazon prime isnt working for some weird reason

also, y/n isn't charlie's bio aunt

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💃

@mysticwitchcraftco

@diffidentphantom

@wendigonamecaller

@barrythestrawberry041

@jx3-xd

[gr0ggy]

ᖴOᖇ YOᑌ (​ᗰIGᑌEᒪ ᙭ ᗷᒪK!ᖇEᗩᗪEᖇ)

warnings: 18+ dbf!miguel o'Hara, age gap (reader is 25, Miguel is 44), all characters are adults, dad’s best friend Miguel, sexual content, gabriella exists, no use of yn, miguel x reader, Miguel is spiderman, Miguel is a whore, black reader, descriptions of hair and skin, slow, Miguel doesn’t know you’re his best friends daughter until later, swearing, mother father and brother's name mentioned, not set in 2099

wc: 3.7k

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Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ４： Ｔｈｅ Ｄｉｎｎｅｒ

 After Miguel picked Gabriella up from school, the evening seemed to slip away in a blur. He had told her about the plans for the night, and her reaction was nothing short of ecstatic. For a child who only ever cycled between his apartment, the park, and school, the prospect of going somewhere new was thrilling.

As the evening grew, Miguel helped Gabriella into a cozy, lavender sweater and combed through her unruly curls. That's when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen to see a message from James with the address of his apartment.

Miguel studied the location for a moment, noting it wasn't too far, just a few miles away. That was a relief.

"Alright, kiddo," he called to Gabriella, who was already waiting by the door, her small fingers fidgeting with the zipper on her coat. "Let's go meet some new people. And we're on our best behavior, yeah?"

Gabriella nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with excitement as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

Stepping outside, Miguel was greeted by the brisk bite of Fall. Instinctively, he crouched down and adjusted Gabriella's coat, pulling the zipper all the way up to her chin. The faint, rosy glow on her cheeks made him smile. He took her hand in his, the two of them walking toward his sleek black Mercedes parked on the curb.

The car ride was filled with Gabriella's non-stop chatter, her sweet voice breaking the silence with stories about school, her favorite TV shows, and her latest art project, which apparently featured a "super sparkly sun." Miguel caught glimpses of her in the rearview mirror, her face animated as she spoke.

He listened quietly, nodding now and then while his mind flickered with nerves. It had been a while since he'd done anything remotely social. Not counting one-night stands, of course, but this? This felt different.

As they pulled up to James' apartment building, Miguel parked and stepped out, unbuckling Gabriella from her seat. Her tiny hand slipped into his as they walked to the building's entrance. The apartment complex was newer than he expected, its polished exterior lined with bright lights.

When they reached James' door, Miguel noticed the small, silver doorbell—an unusual touch for an apartment. Before he could react, Gabriella's face lit up.

"I wanna ring it!" she exclaimed, her voice bursting with enthusiasm.

Miguel chuckled softly, placing a finger to his lips. "Inside voices, honey. Go on then." He gestured toward the button.

Gabriella stretched onto her tiptoes, her arms reaching as far as they could, but it was no use. The doorbell was just out of her grasp.

Miguel let out a small, affectionate sigh—not the kind born from annoyance but the kind that comes when a parent witnesses their child's pure innocence. He leaned down, gently lifting her so she could press the button.

From behind the door, hurried footsteps echoed, followed by a familiar voice calling, "They're here!"

The door swung open, revealing James with a broad smile on his face. "Miguel, welcome!" His eyes immediately dropped to Gabriella, softening with warmth. "And you must be Gabriella."

Miguel chuckled at his friend's exuberance. Stepping into the apartment, he felt Gabriella press closer to his side, her curious eyes darting around as she took in the unfamiliar space.

"Yeah, this is Gabriella," Miguel said, his voice carrying a hint of quiet pride. "Gabi, can you say hello?"

Gabriella tilted her head up toward James, her cheeks flushed as she mustered a shy smile. "Hi," she mumbled softly.

James' grin widened, and Miguel couldn't help but feel a little lighter as he watched the moment unfold.

"Come on in, you two. Make yourselves at home," James said, stepping aside to let them fully into the warmly lit apartment.

Miguel glanced down at Gabriella as she clung to his hand, her wide-eyed curiosity lingering on every little detail. For the first time in a while, he felt like this, whatever this was, might be exactly what they both needed.

"It's nice to finally meet you," James held his hand out for  Gabi to shake. Vanessa, James' wife came padding out of the kitchen to say hello.

Miguel watched as Gabriella shyly shook hands with James and Vanessa. A small wave of relief washed over him, she was settling in well so far. Vanessa stepped forward with a warm smile that immediately set him at ease.

"Nice to meet you," Miguel said politely, extending his hand. "You have a beautiful home." His eyes wandered briefly around the space. The apartment, more of a penthouse, was decorated with striking art pieces and sleek, modern furniture.

"Thank you so much! It's great to finally meet you, too." Vanessa's handshake was firm, her demeanor radiating genuine friendliness.

Miguel matched her grip, feeling some of his earlier tension dissipate. The warmth of her welcome and the comforting ambiance of the home seemed to ease his nerves.

"Likewise," Miguel replied with a slight nod. "James mentioned you guys have kids, right?"

Vanessa chuckled lightly. "We do, though calling them 'kids' might be a bit of a stretch these days."

Miguel raised an eyebrow at her comment. Not kids anymore? How old are they? He wondered.

Vanessa excused herself to fetch them, heading upstairs with a spring in her step. As she disappeared, Miguel crouched down to Gabriella's level, gently ruffling her hair. "Stay close, okay?"

Gabriella nodded, her curious eyes darting around the unfamiliar home.

Moments later, footsteps echoed on the stairs. Miguel straightened as Vanessa returned, accompanied by a tall young man, likely in his late teens or early twenties.

"This is our son, Clay," Vanessa said with pride as the young man stepped forward, his posture relaxed but confident.

"Nice to meet you, Clay," Miguel said, nodding in acknowledgment.

Clay offered a nonchalant half-smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. "'Sup," he said casually.

Miguel chuckled, recognizing the familiar tone of teenage indifference. "Not much," he replied, though his attention flickered back toward the staircase. Vanessa's footsteps soon echoed again, heading back up to retrieve someone else.

____________________________________________

Upstairs, the bass-heavy beat of Smino's music pulsed through your walls as you worked at your desk, earbuds tucked in while you sketched designs for your job. You were in your old bedroom, which was a strange enough experience, feeling like a teenager all over again.

A knock on the door pulled you from your focus.

"Hey," your mom called softly. "We have a visitor. I want you to come say hi."

You rolled your eyes, exhaling sharply. A visitor? Really? It was bad enough having these forced family dinners to "stay connected," but now there was a stranger involved? Your parents had paid for your way through fashion school. They said, in return, you had to come to dinner once a week.

You attributed that to them missing you, wanting you to be a kid again.

You're 25...

"Sorry, Mom, I'm busy," you muttered, already knowing she wouldn't let it go. She stood there in the doorway, arms folded over her chest.

“Alright, alright,” you pushed your chair back and pulled out your earbuds.

Reluctantly, you followed her down the stairs, keeping your gaze on your feet. But as you reached the bottom step, you looked up—and your breath caught in your throat.

Your heart raced as your eyes met his. You recognized him instantly. Miguel. The man you'd hooked up with just a week ago.

You forced yourself to play it cool, masking your shock behind a casual tone. "Wh—who's this?" you asked, tearing your eyes away from his and looking at your mom.

"This is your dad's friend from college, Miguel O'hara," Vanessa said with a sweet smile, completely unaware of the tension crackling in the air.

"Since when does dad have friends?" you joked, trying to keep your voice steady. Humor was your go-to defense mechanism, and right now, you desperately needed it.

Miguel's heart skipped a beat as you rounded the corner. Seeing you again so unexpectedly was like a punch to the gut, but he quickly masked his reaction, keeping his expression neutral.

Vanessa laughed lightly at your joke,But shot you a look that read 'greet the man.'

"Hi, Mr. O'Hara..." You said quietly.

Miguel's focus was entirely on you. Your tone, your gaze—it all sent his thoughts spiraling.

" Your dad was quite the social butterfly back in college," He didn't know what to say, so he went to the past, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.

"Was he," you said flatly, not as a question but more of a statement. Your eyes stayed locked on his, challenging him, searching for a crack in his composure.

Miguel fought to maintain his calm demeanor, even as his mind replayed the memory of that night. The taste of you returning on his tongue, the way you were looking at him now, intense and unrelenting, made it nearly impossible.

"Oh, yeah," he said evenly, his tone betraying none of the turmoil beneath.

The silence that followed was deafening, an unspoken tension hanging thick in the air. Your mother, seemingly oblivious to it all, gestured toward the dining room with a cheerful smile.

You see a little girl peaking behind Miguel's leg. Before you could mention her, your father cleared his throat and said,

"Alright... Well, dinner's done so why don't we all go and eat?" He clapped his hands together and walked toward the dining room.

Miguel silently thanked James for disrupting the lingering tension. His friend's interruption gave him a chance to tear away from your unwavering gaze, though the momentary reprieve did little to calm the storm inside him.

He glanced down at Gabriella, who was clinging to his leg, her wide eyes scanning the unfamiliar room.

"Uh, yeah," he managed, his voice slightly hoarse. "Sounds good."

With a gentle nudge, he encouraged Gabriella forward, following everyone else toward the dining room.

The table was elegantly set, the aroma of steak, mashed potatoes, broccolini, and freshly baked rolls filling the air, candles littered across it. Vanessa and James moved with practiced ease, placing the dishes in the center of the table.

Miguel settled into a chair, trying to keep his focus on the food and the light chatter around him. But his attention kept drifting back to you. The spread looked delicious, but his mind couldn’t even complement Vanessa and her hard work, his attention was on you.

It was like a scene from an old western movie. Like when cowboys are playing poker in a saloon and trying to read each other’s next move.

You sat across from him, carefully avoiding his gaze, though it was clear you were just as aware of him as he was of you. You grabbed a plate, handing one over to clay as you fixed yours.

You stabbed at your mashed potatoes, pretending they demanded your full attention, but every few bites, your eyes betrayed you.

There he was, Miguel, sitting at your family dinner table like nothing had happened. Like you hadn't fucked just last week. And don’t even get started on the fact that he has a daughter…

Your eyes trailed over him, unwillingly soaking in the sight of him. His gray turtleneck clung to his frame, outlining his broad shoulders and a sculpted chest. You could see the indent of his cross necklace under the shirt. Even the way he sipped his water was grounding, feeling the coolness of it with each gulp, combating his nervousness.

God, why does he have to be so sexy? you thought bitterly, chewing another forkful of potatoes.

Miguel felt the weight of your stolen glances. Each time your eyes met, a jolt of memory shot through him. He focused on his plate, desperate to steer his mind away from the night you'd shared. But it was impossible. The tension between you was almost annoying.

He looked down at Gabriella, who was quietly observing the adults, and tousled her hair affectionately, grateful for her presence as a distraction.

"This is delicious, Vanessa," Miguel said, breaking the silence as he reached for a bread roll.

Vanessa beamed. "Thank you, Miguel! It's James's favorite, I think I've perfected it over the years."

You listened to their exchange, chewing slowly, watching as Miguel's eyes briefly flicked toward you. His gaze lingered for just a moment too long, tracing the curve of your neckline.

You shifted uncomfortably, heat rising to your face. Why didn't I wear a bra? You wondered, cursing your choice of the snug, dark purple top with its low-cut neckline, and a matching skirt. You loved fashion, always had, it’s your job for crying out loud, but tonight it felt more like a curse than a blessing.

Miguel caught himself staring and quickly looked away, scolding himself internally. Stop looking at her. Just stop.

Your mom's voice cut through his thoughts. "So, Miguel, what do you do for work?"

Relieved by the distraction, he straightened and cleared his throat. "I work in biotechnologies, actually," he said, his tone polite. "I'm a cross-species geneticist."

"Wow," your mom said, visibly impressed. "That's incredible. James always surrounded himself with intelligent people."

Miguel chuckled softly, glancing at your dad. "We definitely had our fair share of adventures back in the day. Though most of them aren't worth repeating now."

He laughed heartily. "Oh, absolutely not. If I tried to drink like we did in college, I'd probably need medical intervention."

Miguel laughed along, memories of wild college nights flashing through his mind. "It's a miracle we survived those years, honestly. I don't know how we managed to function the next day."

Without thinking, you blurted out, "I mean, you are in great shape." You were so zoned out you hadn't even realized you said that.

The words hung in the air, drawing everyone's attention.

You froze. Why would you say that? Panic bubbled in your chest, and you tried to backtrack. "F—for your age, I mean," you added quickly, your voice faltering.

Miguel blinked, caught off guard by your comment. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though he fought to keep his expression neutral.

"Uh, thanks," he said, his tone light. "I try to stay in decent shape."

James chuckled, oblivious to the undercurrent between you and Miguel. "I was gonna say the same thing. You might even be in better shape now than in college. What's your regimen?"

Being Spider-Man... Miguel thought, but he didn't say it. 

Miguel leaned back slightly, grateful for the change in topic. "Just consistency, really. I stick to weights and cardio, and keep the diet balanced. Nothing too fancy."

As the conversation shifted to fitness and old college stories, you felt your cheeks cool slightly, though your mind was still racing. Miguel's smirk lingered in your thoughts, as did the memory of his lingering gaze.

Across the table, Miguel felt the tension ease ever so slightly, but he couldn't shake the feeling of awareness between you two. The night was far from over, and he knew it would take everything he had to keep things from spiraling further.

____________________________________________

Your brother had always been a science nerd, but his obsession leaned more toward astronomy than biochemistry. Still, that didn't stop him from bombarding Miguel with questions about his work.

As the conversation grew increasingly technical, you found your focus slipping. The tension between you and Miguel was still simmering beneath the surface, and sitting there, watching him explain gene splicing with that calm, deep voice, only made it worse.

You seized the opportunity to escape. "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom," you said, rising quickly from your chair. The words came out smoother than you expected, hiding the real reason for your abrupt departure: you needed air.

The tension was overwhelming, suffocating even—and, to your own frustration, it was turning you on.

Miguel noticed your sudden exit. He nodded slightly in acknowledgment, trying not to let his eyes linger too long. As you disappeared down the hallway, he forced himself to refocus on the conversation, though it was harder than ever.

He nodded along to your brother's enthusiasm about genetic engineering, offering measured responses. Still, his mind wandered, replaying the way you'd avoided his gaze as you excused yourself. The absence of your presence made the air feel lighter but far less interesting.

When you returned, the energy shifted again, and Miguel caught himself stealing a glance as you slid back into your seat. He barely had time to adjust before the conversation turned, this time to something far less innocuous.

"So," your dad began, pointing his fork at Miguel. "Have you found someone to babysit Gabriella yet?"

Miguel hesitated for a moment, glancing at Gabriella, who was busy poking at her broccolini. "Not yet," he admitted. "It's been a bit tricky finding someone."

"Oh, she could do it," your dad said, gesturing casually toward you.

What??

"What!?" you exclaimed, your voice rising before you could stop it.

Miguel's eyes snapped to yours, his expression unreadable. Surprise flickered in his gaze, though he quickly schooled his features into something neutral. He hadn't expected your dad to volunteer you, and the idea sent his pulse into overdrive.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Miguel said quickly, trying to sound polite. Deep down, the thought of spending more time with you, without his best friend around, was both exciting and daunting.

"No, no, 'cause I remember you saying that once your fashion internship ends, you were gonna take up babysitting," your dad chimed in, completely oblivious to the awkwardness at the table.

You let out a forced chuckle, your smile tight. "I did, didn't I?" you replied, though the words felt foreign coming out of your mouth.

The room seemed to wait for your answer, and you felt trapped. If you declined now, your dad would wonder why. It wasn't like you to go back on your word without a good reason, and you couldn't exactly explain the reason, not without blowing up the carefully constructed facade.

"Sure... I—I can babysit Gabriella, she's adorable," you said, your voice a touch too high. Are you kidding me? you thought, mentally facepalming.

Miguel's gaze lingered on you, searching your expression. He could see the hesitation, the way your hands fidgeted with the seem of your skirt. He wanted to intervene, to say something that might ease your obvious discomfort, but the words didn't come.

"Thank you, That'd be a huge help," he said instead, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.

"Yeah... no problem," you mumbled, staring down at your lap as if the answers to life's complications were written on your nails.

Vanessa and James seemed satisfied with your agreement, moving on to discuss logistics as Miguel took another long sip of water, hoping it would cool the heat rising in his chest.

The idea of you babysitting Gabriella was equal parts terrifying and intoxicating. It was dangerous, yes, but it also meant more time near him, and despite his better judgment, Miguel couldn't help but feel a bit of anticipation.

For your part, you were cursing yourself inwardly. What had you just signed up for?

You glanced at Miguel out of the corner of your eye. His expression was unreadable, but his presence felt as magnetic as ever. The chemistry between you crackled quietly beneath the surface, promising that this arrangement was bound to get complicated.

____________________________________________

 About an hour and a half later, as Miguel stepped out of the apartment holding Gabriella's hand, his mind was still a tangled mix of emotions. They had just said their goodbyes to your parents and were heading toward his car when he heard your voice, a hint of urgency lacing his name.

"Migu-!" you stopped and cleared your throat. "Mr. O'Hara..."

He turned to see you jogging toward him, wrapped in a moss-green cardigan that clung to your frame. His grip on Gabriella’s hand tightened instinctively as he glanced back at you.

"Hey, um…" you started, glancing down at Gabriella. Whatever you wanted to say, it wasn’t meant for her ears. Miguel picked up on the cue and nodded toward the car.

“Go ahead, mija,” he said softly. “Get in the backseat. I’ll be right there.”

Once she was inside, Miguel turned back to you, his dark eyes steady. “What is it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his focus entirely on you.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. The words were stuck in your throat. Miguel took a small step closer, his presence steadying but electric all at once.

“Just say it,” he murmured, his tone calm but unwavering.

You inhaled deeply, your brows furrowing slightly. “You’re not married, are you?” you blurted, the question sharper than you’d intended.

Miguel blinked, momentarily caught off guard. A soft chuckle escaped him, and he looked down, shaking his head. “No,” he said, his voice laced with quiet amusement. “No, I’m not married.”

Your shoulders relaxed a bit, and you nodded, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Okay. I just… I didn’t know you had a daughter, so I thought maybe—” You hesitated, your voice lowering into a whisper. “I just didn’t want to be some kind of homewrecker.”

The words lingered in the night air, and Miguel studied your expression, reading the mix of guilt and relief that flickered across your face.

“Right,” he said softly, his gaze gentle but unreadable. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “You don’t have to worry about that.” A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Not—not that what happened a week ago will ever happen again,” you stammered, though your tone lacked conviction.

Miguel’s smirk widened, and he tilted his head slightly, watching as you stumbled over your own words. “Of course not,” he agreed, though the tension between you said otherwise.

"It'll never happen again..." he repeated.

It’ll never happen again? you thought, your heart racing. Why does that sound so damn tempting when he says it?

“O-okay,” you said, your voice shaky. “So, um, I’ll babysit Gabriella whenever you need me.” You tried to inject some professionalism into your tone, though it was clear you were struggling.

Miguel’s gaze softened as he watched you fidget awkwardly, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint smile. “Sounds great,” he replied, his voice dipping slightly, carrying a husky undertone.

This was dangerous.

“Just text me to remind me,” you added, glancing up at him.

His eyes held yours, the intensity in them making it hard to breathe. “I’d need your number to do that,” he said, his tone smooth, edged with subtle seduction.

Your cheeks felt hot as you crossed your arms, feigning exasperation. “Well, if you’d left your number last week, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Miguel laughed softly, the sound low and rich. “Touché,” he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. “That was a mistake."

"A mistake?"

He took a small step forward, the space between you shrinking until you were almost touching. The air between you was charged, your unspoken desires buzzing like static electricity.

“Yeah, right,” you shot back, your voice unsteady but playful. “That was a fully intentional hit and run.”

“Totally planned,” he replied with a hint of sarcasm, though his gaze dipped briefly to your lips.

Your jaw clenched, and your heart thudded in your chest as his nearness overwhelmed you. Your eyes flicked to his mouth, and you realized with a simple feeling of longing that he was thinking the same thing you were.

We can’t.

“I should get back inside,” you said abruptly, your voice breaking the spell.

Miguel nodded, though he didn’t step back. “Yeah, you probably should,” he agreed, his tone low and laced with something that made your stomach flip.

You hesitated for a moment, your feet rooted to the ground even as your head screamed at you to move. “Tell Gabriella I said it was nice to meet her...” you said finally, your voice softer now.

Miguel’s eyes lingered on you, the urge to reach for you nearly impossible to suppress. “I will,” he promised, his voice steady, though his thoughts were anything but.

As you turned to walk away, Miguel watched you go, his gaze tracing the subtle sway of your hips. The rational part of his mind screamed at him to leave it alone, but the pull toward you was undeniable.

This was dangerous, and he knew it. But somehow, danger had never looked so tempting.

____________________________________________

[fandombead]

The Dancer

Hello!! This is my submission for Prinxiety Shipweek's prompt: Music.

Summary: Virgil is the small (like– 5'' tall) 16-year-old son of a woodcarver who crafts him a little dancer friend out of special wood he got from one of their regular clients. Imagine Virgil’s shock when the figure, his size, comes to life in the nighttime. (note: Fairy Tale-ish AU!)

WC: ~4.8k || It's on AO3!

@prinxietyweek !

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Music

Virgil stepped down and wandered out of his space in the walls onto his dad’s desk, trying to get a peek at the man’s latest project. 

Patton was extremely skilled at his craft, to the point he was renowned in all the land for his detailed, “impossible” works. He had learned from a great teacher and put in the work to always remember the lessons. It wasn't a miraculous talent he was born with, but a skill he cultivated. He liked to say he gave a piece of something he loved to all his precious creations. 

Virgil didn’t think much of it, but he was lucky. His dad often made everything he needed from scratch or tinkered out of something he thought would be useful, and it always surprised him how crafty and resourceful his dad was even when he wasn’t carving oak and cedar. 

Right now, Patton was bent in a way that surely would hurt when he finally got up, intently focused on his latest secret project that had captured Virgil’s nosey attentions entirely. It wasn’t near his birthday; that had passed a few months ago and he had gotten a new Violin (and it was incredible how good it managed to sound. Even better than the first model Virgil had learned to play with).

But Patton had been hiding this from him for weeks, and it was driving Virgil crazy. As it was, Patton knew where all his perches for looking out at the shop and people watching were, and had been very good at keeping the new…whatever it was out of sight.

Virgil had caught glimpses: Patton had chosen a rather expensive-looking hardwood that Virgil didn’t even recognize as any used before, which meant it either was for a top-paying commissioner or one of Patton’s major passion projects that would require a lot of detailing. He’d also ordered an odd mechanical base from Logan: the clockmaker several shops over who he often collaborated with. Having a custom part or apparatus from him wasn’t unusual, but the secrecy had Virgil more invested than he’d otherwise be. 

He tried to interrogate Logan from the counter when he’d dropped the boxed mystery device off a few days ago, but the man had simply smiled and told him to be patient and he’d surely get to see it soon. Virgil did not like that answer. It only kept him awake at night and more curious.

Virgil peeked out from Patton’s old design books on the desk, trying to see what his dad’s arm was blocking. There were interesting scraps of sparkly and sheer fabric littering the table and he could at least see that Patton was holding a paintbrush in his left hand, tongue out in concentration.

As Virgil tried to see, however, Patton cracked a knowing smile. “Heya, kiddo. Can’t help but want to peek, hmm?” Virgil ducked back behind the books guiltily before shuffling out at being caught. Patton set the brush down. “Well, it’s alright. I was actually just finishing the detail on this, he’s nearly done. I was going to introduce you at breakfast, but I think now is much more interesting.”

Virgil gave his dad a confused look. “‘He’?” 

Patton just grinned and told him to turn around for a moment which Virgil complied and did. Whatever just to get to finally see this…whatever it was Patton had created.

Virgil heard Patton shuffling and setting things down, then the light tap tap tap of his small mallet.

Something was set down again, closer behind Virgil and Patton finally let him turn to see.

Patton held an ornate little red box in the moonlight coming in from the window behind them. On top, poised gracefully on one pointed foot  was a figure of a beautiful dancer, with chestnut brown hair in waves that looked more soft than carved and a just as soft smile on a kind face. He looked similar to the dancer in the ballet Patton had taken him to last winter, in a shimmering long-sleeved shirt and embroidered gold vest. 

The figure in his hand was posed in a dance, as if captured right as he reached out his hand to a partner, waiting. His other leg was carefully positioned behind him, pointed rigidly. If not for his base, he’d probably be close to Virgil’s height. Virgil looked at the creation as he circled it in awe. Patton sat back and wiped the polish and paint from his hands, chuckling proudly. “So, whatcha think, Virgie? He’s pretty nice, yeah?” Virgil’s eyes were wide as he looked back at Patton, near sparkling. “How did you even make this?? It’s so– I’ve never seen you make anything this elaborate before.”

“Well, I was gifted a very rare and simply elegant block of wood from one of our regular clients, Sir Fraus. He says he got it during his travels but didn’t say what kind it was. Only that it was in thanks and that he thought I’d know what to make with something this rare. So, I figured that I should make something just as special. I'm excited to show him the next time he stops by. He’s got joints to be posable and everything– and just wait until you see this.” Patton reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a small gold key. Virgil watched, walking around to see as Patton stuck the small key into the back of the box and it clicked in. He turned it a few times, winding it up and then let go. The dancer began to slowly spin on his toe, the metal base he was attached to rotating.  

Virgil watched as the shimmery sleeves of his outfit caught the moonlight, unable to look away. Patton smiled, also admiring the dancer spun, dancing to an unheard tune as his arm that wasn’t poised moved up and down as he spun. 

“I’m only a bit disappointed I couldn’t add music to the box, but Logan didn’t have a comb the right size or the cylinder for the song I was hoping for anyway. Perhaps one day I can get one custom-made.” Virgil tilted his head as he watched, sitting next to Patton to watch as the figure slowed to a stop, arm down in rest again. 

“Did you…name him?” Virgil asked as Patton reached around his son to wind it up again.

“You know, it’s funny you mention that. I went to the nice woman who sells fabrics from her home in The Den– you know, that little shop district across town? She made the costumes for the play we saw. Anyway, I was explaining to her what I needed and asked for any outfit suggestions and somehow we got onto the topic of names being important for creations like this. She gave me a few, but I ended up liking one the most: ‘Roman’. What do you think?”

Virgil had to admit that was very fitting for the regal dancer. He liked it. “Roman,” he repeated, nodding in approval with a tiny smile he hid in his arm as they watched him spin again. “Suits him.” “I’d say his clothing suits him too.” Patton grinned and Virgil groaned, laying his head in his arms. “Baaad, that one was awful.”

Patton laughed, ruffling Virgil’s hair with a fingertip and a wide smile. 

“Hahaha, I bet Roman likes my puns!”

Virgil made a noise of doubt as Patton turned and looked at his colorful clock on the wall. “Ah, I stayed up far later than I meant to. You’re welcome to stay out here if you want, but I gotta get to bed. Early day tomorrow, as usual.” he hummed, standing. Virgil watched him and gave Patton’s hand a brief hug when it swept up to ‘hug’ him goodnight. “Don’t stay up too late, Virge.”

Virgil gave Patton a vague wave of his hand in acknowledgment, not taking his eyes off the dancer.

Patton made sure the shop was locked up and then left to his room in their home above the shop.

Virgil sat alone, going back to wind the box when it stopped. He really did think it’d be nice to see Roman dance to music. And then he realized that it was something he could provide.

Virgil got up and ran off to his room in the walls. There was his little workshop space Patton had carved out and covered for his privacy, with a little balcony, but he ended up having to go all the way back up to his bedroom adjacent to Patton’s. He could see Patton brushing his teeth out of his balcony but didn’t stop to chat as he grabbed his black violin case from the corner by his shelf bed. Then he was immediately headed back down. He jogged out onto the worktable again, his instrument case already open as he set it down.

Virgil spun the key as far as he could, which was admittedly difficult after 5 turns, but he used all his strength to get the coil as tight as he could. Then he picked up the violet violin and started to play the first song that his hands picked: one that he’d learned by ear from the record Patton liked to play in the shop the most. 

They’d heard this one at the ballet and it felt fitting for the dancer still diligently posed on one foot. 

The pretty tune filled the air around him and Virgil smiled as it looked like the dancer was moving to it with the one arm that shifted as he spun. He could almost imagine he really was playing musician for this dancer, Roman. His vest twinkled in the gentle moonlight, and it was mesmerizing as it created a shimmer around him. Virgil was so lost in the music and gazing at the stunning figure that he did not notice the soft click of the key stopping.

He finished the song out, the lilting drawn-out end fading gradually, and the dancer stopped turning with his arm down in rest. Virgil was smiling, proud, and a bit sheepish that he’d even done it. But it was nice.

And then the carve dancer blinked, and Virgil gasped, nearly dropping his violin. He froze, staring as the dancer’s pretty dark eyes seemed to focus on him. Then it moved again, head tilted curiously. Virgil dove behind the toolkit holding Patton’s chisels, the nearest thing. 

Virgil stared in awe as the figure twisted around curiously, gazing around the shop and tentatively looking over to where Virgil hid. He tried to get down, stumbling as he pulled his foot free and nearly fell off the box entirely, much to Virgil’s anxiety spike as he gasped. Thankfully he caught himself on the edge with his hands and was able to carefully sit and hop down.

The figure was alive…alive?! Enchanted?? He didn’t think Patton knew that, surely! He would have shown him– or at least mentioned it so that his anxious son wouldn’t freak out. Was he even awake right now? The wooden man danced a little about the table, wobbly for a few steps before getting used to moving rather quickly and happy about it. 

That was a wooden person smiling over at him. Virgil scrambled back, startled. “How—how are you moving right now?! My dad carved you out of a hunk of wood!!”

The possibly possessed wooden figure blinked at him— despite Patton having never created eyelids with which to do so— hands clasping in front of himself as he stood and appeared to be listening, and even just standing there he looked like he was posed perfectly to begin dancing.

Virgil was a little unnerved that he just kept staring but his eyes were curious rather than judging or belittling like a lot of people’s tended to be when meeting him. Though their being nearly the same tiny height probably made that observation moot.

And he was the first person Roman(?) had properly met. 

Virgil didn’t know what he was waiting for but the other suddenly spared him from needing to figure it out by hurrying off to some unknown goal.

Virgil jolted at the sudden movement, scrambling up to see where the man—figure— Roman was going.

Roman popped out from behind the bookend, nearly giving Virgil a heart attack. Though before Virgil could properly decide if he was running for the wall door, Roman held up what he’d retrieved, out to Virgil with an eager look.

He had Virgil’s violin and bow, carefully held out in offering. Virgil blinked dumbly as he slowly took it.

Roman bounced on the balls of his feet a little before splaying his arms out, standing on the tips of his toes again. He was looking expectantly at Virgil and the nervous teen clutched the instrument as he realized. 

Virgil lifted the violin to tuck under his chin, mind reeling for what to play. He watched Roman stand straighter still and send a dashing smile his way, and suddenly Virgil found it easier just to let the melody that felt right flow. They both anticipated the start of the music as Virgil played the first clear note. His hands did the rest on their own, skillfully guiding the bow along the strings.

And Roman…Virgil had no idea how he knew to dance in such a way. He danced like a man finally free of rigid demands, and it was more enchanting than the beautifully poised expectation of the dancer frozen in place on a spinning point. Despite the freedom to move, Roman seemed to enjoy the little fast turns and twirls, and he spotted Virgil to keep from growing dizzy. It was impressive and alluring, the thin ruffly tule at the bottom of his shirt waving around his waist even as he stopped, catching himself gracefully with a flourish.

This was a man unrestricted, flowing in sync to the timeless music like he’d practiced it a hundred times and now had his opening night performance. His vest glittered stunningly as he moved with more grace and freedom than a person made of wood should have been able to. But it was natural for him. Roman moved across the table elegantly, the resonating sounds working with him as he reached toward the streaming moonlight like it was where their unseen audience might be. Then he was stretching into a near bow as he stepped back, going into tight spins as he twirled away, arms tucked in.

Virgil was in awe, turning to keep the dancer in sight as he played his violin for him. Roman beamed in his exuberance for just a moment before tamping the pure joy to focus again. The smile never fully left.

The dance and song sped up in tandem, and Roman swept around Virgil close enough to reach out and take his hand. Virgil was captivated and almost stuttered to a stop as Roman used his shoulder as a support, hand barely applying weight as Roman leaned in with dazzling bright eyes. It was a long gaze and yet just as quickly as he’d appeared at Virgil’s side, Roman was flitting away as if carried off by the drifting tune as the song peaked. 

As the song finished, both Roman and Virgil stepped into their final poses, Roman’s not dissimilar to the one he took on the stand, with pointed feet and one arm curved high above his head. Both seemed breathless in their own way, watching one another as they stood still, just taking it in. Virgil moved first, lowering his arms and letting a little grin spread on his face despite himself. “That was amazing!! How do you know how to dance??? It’s like you just knew??” Roman let himself down from the pose, the bright smile back as he padded over to Virgil. He laid his hands over Virgil’s bow hand and bounced happily, trying to convey his own excitement. Up close, Virgil could definitely still see the wooden body that made up the dancer, and the little joints that allowed him to pose freely were visible through his sheer long sleeves. Virgil held his violin to his chest, looking at him in wonder. “Incredible…so..you’re Roman, right? Is that actually your name?” Roman tilted his head and then nodded happily. 

“Really? Because I doubt my dad’s just guessed that out of the thousands of names, right?”

Roman pointed to the stairs that led up to the living area of their home then back at himself. Virgil looked a little confused. “I’m guessing you can’t talk, since…no voice box?” 

Roman stilled a bit but nodded once more, unbothered by this but acknowledging it. 

“Oh…well, it’s nice to meet you, Roman. You’re an incredible dancer,” he stated, looking away sheepishly and couldn’t believe he was embarrassed right now to be talking to a magical doll person. 

Roman perked up at that though and insistently tapped Virgil’s hand, nodding hard as he pointed at Virgil. He clapped happily and Virgil’s face flushed. “I-I’m still learning, but thank–thank you– do you– uh, need to rest? Sit down?”

Roman shrugged but tugged Virgil’s hand as he walked to sit down by the red box he belonged to. Virgil went willingly, sitting beside Roman who tucked his legs to the side, probably limited in how he could move this way.

They were able to see the moon and stars through the window across the room. 

“Are you cursed?” Virgil suddenly asked without thinking and winced as soon as it left his mouth. 

He glanced at Roman, who very much seemed to be chuckling at him, even as no sound came out. Ro shook his head. Virgil relaxed a little. 

“Oh, good– so just a magical creation? Are you…aware…of things? Like when you were frozen earlier?”

Roman looked thoughtful, then reached around Virgil to point at the key in the box.

Virgil tried very hard not to blush at the closeness as Roman peered at him and then the key insistently. 

“T-The key? Okay, you–you know about the key??”

Roman frowned, then mimed turning it and dramatically opening his eyes. He pointed to his ears and the violin. Virgil’s tired mind raced.

“...you– you’re aware when your key is turned? The music does it? O-Or, like– you can see and hear and things…?” he tried.

Roman smiled and pulled away, nodding. Virgil wasn’t sure exactly what he got right, but he was pretty sure Roman could see and hear whenever the key was turned. He started to worry. “And when the key isn’t turned?? You aren’t–aware of that too, right?” Roman put out his hands and shook his head gently. He seemed to search for the right thing to attempt to communicate before he mimicked sleeping.

Virgil relaxed as he seemed to finally understand. “Oh. Okay, it’s like you’re not awake, then? …How do you even know what sleeping is.”

Roman just smiled and shrugged, but the look he was giving him led Virgil to think that was not all.

Virgil talked for what became hours with Roman. He ended up showing him around the shop using his bridges and walkways along the walls, holding his hand as they went. Roman seemed perfectly happy to listen, and he’d point and get Virgil’s attention when he wanted to know what something was. 

Virgil played him another song when Roman silently requested such. He had no idea how the night was over so soon. They were back on Patton’s worktable and Roman was standing by his box, trying to convey to Virgil that he had to go back. 

Virgil was disheartened as he watched. “Can I see you again soon? I’m sure Dad would love to meet you, and maybe then you won’t have to go back on that thing.”

Roman turned back to Virgil, interest peaked. He gave Virgil a soft look and hugged him, gentle and earnest as he tried to convey what he felt. Virgil was very still as he cautiously settled his arms around Roman’s back. 

Roman pulled away too soon, and Virgil let him go. Virgil watched as he settled his foot back on the support, and posed as he had been, confident and with a professional ease. Virgil didn’t know for certain when, but between one blink and the next, Roman was once again just a figure on the musicless box.

He would figure out what he had to do to see him again.

—-

The next morning, Virgil tried to show Patton when he woke up. He played part of a song from Swan Lake and watched, but Roman did not shift from his spot, much to Virgil’s confusion. Patton enjoyed his son playing, though seemed a little confused about what he was supposed to see. “That was lovely, kiddo! It really is lovely to watch him spin to music.”

But Virgil just sighed, shaking his head. “No, he– last night– he was dancing! To my music, and smiling, and…and…” his face grew hotter as Patton was smiling at him, hands clasped and Virgil quickly looked away. 

“I’m really happy you like him, Virgie! Maybe it’s a good thing we never found the music for his box. You playing whatever you want is a wonderful idea.” 

Virgil was dejected. Did it only happen once? Had he truly dreamed it? No, he had seen it, felt Roman’s cool hand in his. Was he shy to come out in front of his dad? But Roman had seemed genuinely eager to say hello when Virgil mentioned them meeting. Maybe it was just conditional? Roman wouldn’t likely know– he’d just been just as surprised as Virgil when it had happened the first time.

He brainstormed about this in his room most of the day, coming out occasionally to help Patton around the shop– he was very good at moving small things about and getting them for his dad, as well as ringing up customers– and to eat.

That night, Virgil went down to the shop after dinner. Violin in hand, he turned the key fewer times than before and started to play a pretty, upbeat tune. The wooden dancer spun stiffly, but as the song neared its end, the arm became less rigid as it lifted with more grace. The smile etched in place became wider still and Roman shifted, lifting his foot higher then back down as he bowed. 

Virgil grinned, stopping as Roman found him on the table nearby and waved. Virgil quickly pulls himself up onto the base. “Roman! You’re still here,” he breathed, and Roman gave him a bright look and eager nod.

Virgil offered his hands. “Here, let me help this time.” Roman gratefully took the help, holding Virgil’s shoulders as he carefully lifted his foot free of the metal stand. Virgil helped and was shocked at how easy it was to lift him for support. He wasn’t as dense as a flesh and blood being, and Virgil didn’t know what to do with the fact that he could easily hold Roman over his head if he wanted to. He let go of his waist before he got any more silly thoughts and hopped down from the box. He offered Roman his hands and Roman took them to get down easily as well, hopping with a grace he apparently always possessed.

It was another night of strolling around the shop and performing for one another as music filled the air. They ended up on the railed windowsill beside the door. Roman somehow made him feel like he was a part of the dance despite Virgil being his musician, dancing captivatingly around him. Even as the song ended, Roman danced in the silence, and the music was in his head as he enticed Virgil to join him. Virgil nervously set his violin down and couldn’t refuse that beautiful smile as Roman took his hands and danced with him. 

Virgil honestly felt like it was only Roman’s skill that kept them from tripping over each other. He certainly didn’t know how he’d become the lead in this soundless song that they both knew the steps for. But he twirled Roman easily and guided him into dips that he’d seen dance partners do on the stage. It was relaxed and free of any real form, but they were miraculously in sync together.

He got bolder and confident with the trust Roman put in him, and how had he ever earned that?? He settled his hands at Roman’s waist as the other guided them there and he lifted Roman with little trouble. Roman settled a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as he posed and Virgil turned with him, then let go to raise his arms high, trusting the person supporting him. 

When Virgil set Roman back down, Roman was giddy, hands waving at his sides as he jumped and did a little happy dance in place. He threw his arms around Virgil, and that time he really almost did knock him over from the force of the hug. Virgil laughed, letting himself go to the ground as one arm wrapped around Roman. “Yeah–yes, it was fun–”

Roman’s smile couldn’t get much bigger as he tucked against Virgil, happily nudging him and content.

Virgil had never danced with someone in his life; not like this, where their hand wasn’t his platform or partner. Not in a way where he was on equal footing, able to hold them close. They sat there together, catching their breath and gazing out at both the sleeping town and the stars above. Virgil must have nodded off because suddenly the sky was lighter and Roman was shifting next to him.

Virgil sat up straighter as Roman stood, looking back across the shop to the table. To his stand. He looked down at Virgil and offered him a hand, gesturing. Virgil’s at-ease expression changed to one of concern. “You want to go back?”

Roman looked off to the side with a small, sad shrug. 

“If you don’t want to, just stay, you don’t have to go back.” Virgil insisted, taking one of Roman’s hands in both of his own.

Roman gave him a gentle smile, free hand held to Virgil’s cheek. He stood on his toes and pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, hoping it said all he needed for him. Virgil held his hand there for as long as he could before Roman began to pull away. Virgil squeezed his hand imploringly.

“W-Wait! What if you just don’t go back onto the box? Then you won’t turn back again, you could stay! I-I’d love if–if you could stay?” he practically pleaded.

Roman turned back slowly to him, holding his hand reassuringly but his expression was apologetic. He looked down at his foot: a simple cloth slipper that covered the wood and the hole to anchor him to his place.   

Virgil shook his head. “You don’t have to get back up there! Dad will absolutely understand once he meets you— please. Let’s just try it?”

Roman looked hesitant as he looked over at the growing dawn light filtering through the window. But he nodded obligingly and settled beside Virgil, resting his head lightly against Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil tiredly held his hand and they sat there against the window frame to wait together, though really it was just an excuse to not say goodbye again. 

Virgil was not truly surprised when Roman went still and rigid against his side, his hand losing its grip even as Virgil continued to hold it, gently stroking with his thumb. He felt disappointed tears brim for a moment, but he didn’t let them fall. Roman wasn’t gone. Virgil could bring him back in the evening. But it wasn’t fair that he would not get to see a sunrise.

As Patton found him and fretted about whether Virgil had been out here all night (and he didn’t ask why was Roman off the box), Virgil was devising a way to change that. As his dad gently scooped him up and took him upstairs to deposit him into his little bed in the wall, Virgil lay there vowing that he’d find a way to break the spell keeping Roman trapped to the night. He deserved to bask and dance freely in the sheer unreflected light of day. 

Virgil would show him all of life he could, beyond the shop and all the music he could dance to to his heart’s content. Virgil wanted to play all his favorite songs for him and to dance with him again. Roman would get to really live, and Virgil was determined to be by his side through it all. 

[simaddix]

Hello again, old friends and new...

It has been a very long time since I've been active in the community, and I am so happy to be back at it! I've been quietly working on some things for the last week or two, as I wasn't sure how much time I would actually be able to allot considering I haven't been able to touch my projects in so long.

Happily, I was able to get some pretty big progress going while we wrapped up summer break for kiddos. Here's my latest work in progress! (Please forgive the screenshots, I'm in testing mode so I'm switching back and forth between game and files lol)

Welcome to the Armory:

These are all Skyrim Weapons I pulled from my own game files and converted, and while I was doing that, naturally I came up with half a dozen ideas on how to properly display them - which led to the display cases and weapon racks you see here.

I will get into more details about the sets when I post them up for download, but for now, enjoy the view. I have a couple more tweaks I want to make, but they're almost finished!

[sopeacecheesecake]

Originally written under the reblog of @that-one-kiddo-in-the-back, post, re-shared as a post for tagging reasons.

I start to think that either her, or her trus-me-bro "real anon asks" doesn't understand the difference between wanting/needing to sleep with your sibling as a child and as a grown ass adult.

"Everyone’s so fucking porn-brained and horny all the time. They really let that Folgers commercial completely rot their brains."

I'm pretty sure Lily made a statement about that Folgers commercial a good while ago, stating that it was strange people thought there was a sexual tension between the brother and the sister. (BTW, CJ the X has a great video on this.) And sure - I showed it to a few friends of mine, because as a non-American, I find many US advertisements otherworldly, and a few of them felt that strange tension and few didn't, no biggie.

But god, Lily. It is not being "porn-brained" or "horny" to think that newly-weds would like to, you know... do stuff in their bedroom? But, you know what, let's not go straight to sex, okay? Lily conveniently cut out the part from my text where I mention non-sexual stuff, but like... cuddling, kissing and just being together with your partner in your bedroom? Alone time with your wife? Not having to tell your fucking sister to "hey, like... you know, me and my wife would like to be alone a bit, could you like sleep in the kitchen or something?" every time you don't want your sister in your bed. I know people that don't like even cuddle and be affectionate with their partner, when there is another person in the room, let alone if that person would be their fucking sister, let alone, sleeping in their bed!

And yes, that is it strange. It is strange, that if as an adult, you moving out and starting your own life with your wife/your sister moving out to live with her wife causes you such a trouble to overcome, that fucking living in a one-bedroom apartment, sharing a bunk-bed or a queen sized bed, seems at the better option. (Tapi's video of reading out parts, as a source, since Ms. Peet blocked, after calling her out about plagiarizing a text of mine) If I remember correctly, later on Lily claimed that the sisters+wife share a one-bedroom condo, because they have three PhD worth's of debt to pay? (answering an anon ask)

Lily, I want to hold your hand while I tell you this, but as someone who is so fucking against subtext and metaphors and whatnot, (even claiming in her - the time of writing this post latest - stream that subtext and metaphors were something the Soviet Union insisted on using!!! Fucking American-centrism again, Lils. Or an unspoken confession about the fact that she did not bother to pick up and understand anything a little more challenging*) Iris and Kiera should have brought up their student loans in the conversation, while discussing what-her-name moving in! They are sapping back and forth for a good while, you would have enough room to put a sentence in about their loans there! But no, you choose to pull a Rowling, and share this information on your tumblr, in a from of answering an anonymous ask. Not quite canonizing a character as gay, but again, in her latest stream she goes in detail about how creators should put their money where their mouth is.

*Unasked for book rec close to topic: The Red Badge of Courage (Gutenberg Project link, check it out if you want a read a good fucking book about how propaganda could effect people).

[cryptid-writer]

I'm having fun writing Hisashi

There's a tap at his office window, the one his desk is positioned under so he can keep an eye on his son while he plays in the woods, and looks up to see Izuku's face -caked in dried mud- barely peeking over the edge and a small hand raised up to show his latest find. A single frog, one that looks rather put off by the entire situation. Hisashi can't help but laugh, fondness bubbling up in his chest and spilling over. There's never a dull moment with his son, his wonderful son with the soul of a maned wolf. So he reached to open the window, amusement tickling his throat as he smiled. Everyone always assumed his quirk smoked when he was angry, but it wasn't true, it was quiet curls when he was so happy he felt like his chest was going to burst open. When he laughed so hard he gave himself headaches and became light headed, when he was so proud of his kid that his eyes watered. It was joy that made him smoke. “You having fun with your new friend kiddo?” he asks the six year old with a grin on his face. Izuku grins back, lips curling like he's supposed to have a mouth full of fangs, and nods. The frog is put delicately on the windowsill. To the frogs credit, it's probably having a pretty odd day. Of course, the frogs around the house seem to have realized Izuku doesn't want to hurt them. And they can leave at any point, they just typically don't. His son has a similar effect on most animals, being ‘too flabbergasted to react’. “You want me to watch ‘em for you?” Another nod. “Alright, go have fun. I'll watch your frog for you,” he responds. He's ahead of his current project deadline, it wouldn't hurt to take a break.

[gracelilamartin]

Check out my latest project!

Thank you so much to Beacon community services for featuring me in their video series, celebrating the 50 years that they’ve been offering incredible services! The video that I’m featured in touches on youth homelessness prevention and shelter services. You can watch the video I’m in on beacon’s Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, or in my link tree!

Also thank you to the kiddos I work with, who insisted on making me a special rainbow loom bracelet to wear when I’m filming things, which was featured in this project!

Produced by Andy Robertson from FP Media Directed by Andy Robertson and Mike Wavrecan Director of photography Luke Connor

Also in the video are actors Ekaelum Aninze, Francis Abrill, and Sarah Baidoo!

[tmnthq17-blog]

Foreign Love

{A/N: The image above is Donnie and Y/N's daughter; This is the final sequel to "When The Sun Sets, Will It Last?" and takes place 6 years after the last story}

It was another peaceful night in the lair. Everything was running as smoothly as it usually did. Raph & Casey sparring in the garage, Mikey working on his graffiti art, Leo perfecting his skateboarding skills with Angelica as his audience, and Donnie with Y/N in the lab working on their latest project. On this particular night, April O'Neil was headed towards the lair to hang out with her favorite, albeit her only, goddaughter. April was always ready to lend a helping hand to Donnie and Y/N if they needed someone to keep an eye on Angelica. As she approached her destination, she immediately spotted Leo by the skate ramp enveloping Angelica in a bear hug as he ruffled her hair, the girl squealing and laughing in delight. April smiled widely as she slowly walked up to them to surprise them.

April: "How's my favorite niece in the whole world?"

Angelica turned her head towards the voice and ran to her aunt as Leo released her from the hug, his loving smile never leaving his face as he watched his niece run towards his girlfriend.

Leo: "Now this is a sight I like to see. Two out of 3 of my favorite girls, smiling and laughing."

Angelica turned back towards Leo in confusion.

Angelica: "Who's the third girl, Uncle Leo?"

Leo: "Well, I can't exactly dislike your mother now, can I? After all, she gave us the best niece/goddaughter in the world. Besides, if I did, your father would have my head."

Angelica was probably the only girl in the world with 2 godmothers and 4 godfathers, but Donnie and Y/N wouldn't have it any other way. She nodded in understanding, before getting to the point she was about to make before her uncle interjected.

Angelica: "Can I ask you guys something?"

April: "Of course, you can ask us anything. But, are you sure you wouldn't rather ask your parents?"

Angelica shook her head as she explained her reasoning.

Angelica: "No, I'd like an outside opinion about this."

Leo took on his signature sly grin before taking a seat on the couch, April on the opposite side with Angelica in her lap.

Leo: "Well, now you have to tell us. Spill it, kiddo."

Nothing could've prepared them for what she said next.

Angelica: "How did my parents meet?"

Their eyes widened slightly as they glanced at each other before turning their gazes toward the curious 5-year-old. They were surprised that neither Donnie, nor Y/N, had ever told their daughter how they got together in the first place. Leo cleared his throat as he tried to think of a way to answer his niece's question.

Leo: "Well princesà, I don't really know how to properly explain it to someone of your age."

The little girl frowned before using a tone she had heard her father use with him countless times.

Angelica: "Might I remind you that I am the child of the two most brilliant people in the universe, and have learned a very advanced vocabulary from Daddy?"

April chuckled as she watched the surprised look on her boyfriend's face, just as an idea popped into her head.

April: "You really are your father's daughter. Listen, sweetie, we just don't know how to explain it to you in words. So, what's Mommy's favorite motto?"

Angelica smiled as she recalled the phrase her mother had always taught her to lift her spirits.

Angelica: "If you can't say it, sing it."

April: "Exactly, so think you can go ask Uncle Mikey for his guitar and I'll tell you all about the day your dad met your mom?"

Angelica immediately raced to her uncle's room, asked for the guitar with the manners her mother had instructed her to use at all times, got the permission she had asked for, and quickly returned to her aunt and uncle with the guitar in hand.

April: "Alrighty then, sit back, relax, and listen."

{A/N: Start the video at 0:10 and stop it at 2:32; Bold and underlined is wherever I've changed the lyrics}

April:

She played the fiddle in an Irish band

But she fell in love with a science man

Kissed her on the neck and then he took her by the hand

Said, "Darlin', I just want to dance"

He met her on Grafton street right outside the café

Split a pizza with her while her brother played the guitar

He asked her 'What does it mean, the Gaelic ink on your arm?'

She said 'It's one of my fave songs, do you want to drink on?'

She took root beer as a chaser, Sprite for the fun

She got Dr. Pepper on the table with ginger ale riding a shotgun

Chatted some more, one more drink at the café

Then put Van on the jukebox, got up to dance

You know, she played the fiddle in an Irish band

But she fell in love with a science man

Kissed her on the neck and then he took her by the hand

Said, "Darlin', I just want to dance-

With my pretty little Galway Girl"

And now she's his, she's his Galway Girl

You know, she beat him at darts and then she beat him at pool

And then he kissed her like there was nobody else in the room

As last orders were called was when she stood on the stool

After dancing to céili singing to trad tunes

Told me he'd never heard Carrickfergus ever sung so sweet

A capella on the bar using her feet for a beat

Said he could have that voice playing on repeat for a week

And in this packed out room swear she was singing to him

You know, she played the fiddle in an Irish band

But she fell in love with a science man

Kissed her on the neck and then he took her by the hand

Said, "Darlin', I just want to dance-

With my pretty little Galway Girl"

And now she's his, she's his Galway Girl

Yeah that's right, she's his Galway Girl

And now you're their sweet little Galway Girl

Now they'd outstayed their welcome and it was closing time

He was holding her hand, her hand was holding his

Their coats both smell of soda, pesto, and pine

As theyfilled up their lungs with the cold air of the night

He walked her home then sheasked him inside

To finish some Doritos and another bottle of Sprite

So now I've put them in a song that I wrote

About a Galway Girl and a perfect night

She played the fiddle in an Irish band

But she fell in love with a science man

Kissed her on the neck and then he took her by the hand

Said, "Darlin', I just want to dance-

With my pretty little Galway Girl"

So now she's his, she's his Galway Girl

Yeah that's right, she's his Galway Girl

And now you're their sweet little Galway Girl

Angelica's eyes sparkled with wonder as April smiled at the little girl's cuteness and adoration of the story.

April: "So, what did you think?"

Angelica: "That was incredible, Auntie April! Is that really what happened?"

Leo turned his head to look to the left of the living room to find the very people they were talking about, smiles on their faces, hand in hand, just like the day they met. Except for his future nephew growing in the expectant mother-of-two-to-be.

Y/N: "Why don't you ask us yourself?"

Angelica followed her uncle's gaze to find her parents behind her. She squealed as she ran into her father's arms as he spun her around, the smile never leaving his face.

As the happy little family left, April cuddled into Leo's plastron, a soft sigh leaving both of them as they closed their eyes in delight. As of right now, he couldn't be more proud of, nor thankful for, his brother. Even through all his teasing, he was happy that he had found the girl he would eventually marry and raise a family with. Inspired by his brother's bravery, he eventually worked up the courage to ask April out on a date, with the help of his sister-in-law. He couldn't have been happier when she said yes. Since then, everything seemed to work out for the better. Donnie & Y/N married, Leo and the others became uncles and aunts, Leo and April got engaged, and pretty soon the 'uncles and aunts' thing would repeat itself, maybe even more than once. In conclusion, there was one thing each of them knew for sure...

No matter what the circumstances, in the end, foreign love always wins.

[monkey-madness-by-rokkr]

Master post

Okay dunno how these are done, my first time 😅

Links to all related fics below the cut

Important tags are on this post for quickly looking up certain fic posts

Asks are open!~

I am an open book, ask me what you will. There is very little I will hide :3

Shards of a Frozen Soul

"Will you be my Warrior?" Promises made, but will they be kept?

Historian and Archeologist of the Journey to the West Initiative, Dongzhi Soushirou, finds her Footnote in history far closer to home than expected. When an Old Threat with New Faces threatens Megaopolis, how can good prevail without a hero?

Speak no Evil, Do no Evil

Harry Potter x LEGO™️ Monkie Kid

How a punishment from the Celestial Court ended up in a new headache for the Jade Emperor

Lily and James were Sun Wu King and L Mihou with their memories sealed. When their child discovers the truth, she sets out on a quest to find her family!

Amount of Plot Outlined : 3 major parts planned out. Currently about half way through the first story arc

See no Evil, Hear no Evil

My Hero Academia x LEGO™️ Monkie Kid

What if Izuku is adopted by Macaque?

Princess Iron Fan being a very bored immortal that wants to screw over Heaven by making Earth prosper~

Many adoptions to cause chaos and prosperity~

Plot outlined : I’m not sure where I’m going with this one. I had a plan originally but it just fell through when writing. The chapters are actively fighting me

Sun Lilies and Moonstones

Harry Potter x Lego Monkie Kid

Assorted tales of Sun Lily and Jacque in their Hogwarts years

Cheeky Monkey

Harry Potter x Lego Monkie Kid

what if Lily and James actually looked for their kiddo and stayed together?

Aschente

Lego Monkey Kid

What if MK grew up around Anime and managed to emulate some of the abilities? If his first Memory was watching No Game No Life Zero... Will he follow Riku's path of self sacrifice? Or perhaps be the Hope his world needs to Keep Moving Forward.

Monkey See Monkey Do

Harry Potter x Lego Monkey Kid

Wracked by the guilt of what she forced upon Sun Wu Kong, Guanyin of the Wizarding World realm decided to send his latest reincarnation to the realm of another to help prevent her fellow Guanyin from making the same mistake.

Little HP sent to the Lego Monkie Kid verse as a baby monkey during the Journey to the West era. Makes ripples in both realities

Plot Progress : Chapter 1 written but working out an outline and wanting to write at least 3 chapters before posting this one

One Shots

I’ve got several one shots I’m juggling and musing. These will be rather long but consist of a stand alone story

None are post ready yet 😅

Shadow of the Plum Tree

Instead of stumbling into Megaopolis after hatching, MK finds himself at the grave of a particular Spirit unable to move on in any way. Macaque doesn’t get tortured by the Diyu in this one, he’s just unable to go far from where his corpse was burried without a living soul to latch onto

Effectively raises MK from the shadows

Shadow Plays

MK and Mei run a YouTube channel where they take old stage play and shadow play manuscripts to make animated videos of. MK’s favorite playwrite is Liu’er Miho. Little does he know the Shadow Play he goes to see with the gang is being performed by his favorite playwrite~

What is a fan to do?

“What Did I Say About Strays?”

MK has a real fondness for Stray animals. Using what food remains after his shifts to feed them behind the Shop. He already has a baby monkey and two kittens he adopted after a few… incidents…

Today felt like any other! Working the whole day, making sure the Child Services spies can tell he isn’t doing anything illegal for his age range. Helping Pigsy find ingredients without getting captured by the spooky spider lady again…

And then he finds a half dead monkey person in the trash behind the shop. Only barely stopping himself from chucking the trash bag in. Now… how long can one Teen keep hte8r papa pig from finding about the shadow? And why can’t the shadow leave MK’s side for long?

[icecreamisbetterwithafork]

Happy September!

Things are certainly popping. The change of seasons is creeping in, and it is officially my favorite time to be home! End of summer, heading into fall, brings us San Diegans our true local summer. The crowds have gone home, the ocean is still warm, and the sunsets are fire.

The family and I have just returned from Yosemite, where we spent the last 3 weeks connecting with friends and family, soaking up nature, unplugging, slowing down, staring at the stars, swimming in the lake, fishing off the dock, wakeboarding, drinking the most amazing Mexican mochas from Mountain Sage Coffee Shop, making dinner together, gawking at El Capitan for the umpteenth time, swimming in the Merced, and paddleboarding on the lake—Jacko even got on the SUP! Though chaotic and full of ups and downs, it was just our souls needed before the new school year.

It took me almost 40 years to visit Yosemite, and it's become one of my favorite places to take Kylo. It also brought me much joy to witness my dad, in his mid-70s, take in the view of the valley for the first time. It truly is a magical place, and anyone who has ever visited can't deny it. While in Yosemite, my baby boy turned 9, and my new song, "Kylo's OP," was released into the world a few days later. As I was reflecting, I realized that some of the lyrics in that song came to me when I was driving back from Yosemite last year:

Everything that you believe, has already planted a seed, wow

Watching it all come to be, apples not far from the tree, now

A little full-circle moment for you! Now that we're home and the kiddos are back to school, I am looking forward to diving back into the garden—literally and figuratively—and working on finishing up a bunch of new songs that have been marinating. This process has been such an interesting one. Many of the songs were born in a day and are about 75% complete, but the final pieces have yet to reveal themselves. Patience is the name of the game in this case, and it has been a good lesson for me to practice once again letting go and trusting the process. I know the songs will "get done" when they get done. It's taken this long, so what's another little bit? I know I can never force it and have always felt that I would rather let the inspiration hit naturally than try to force it. Sometimes it seems like songs are just waiting for one more experience that leads to a thought or bridge that ties it all together. For instance, I saw Krishna Das this past year with my mom, which inspired the line in "Kylo's OP": “Everything that you believe has already planted a seed.” That took almost a year to come after the initial birth of the song. Either way, I can tell you this: I am sitting on a lot of new music and exciting projects that I can't wait to share with you over the next year.

So far the last couple of months have brought us:

A most beautiful song i had the pleasure of joining my friend Leonardo Prakash on, Bobby My Friend: listen here!

And my latest release, Kylo’s OP, out now: listen here!

So many of you have asked me what the "OP" stands for. Here you go: When I first met Trevor Hall in person, he was traveling with a mini synth from Teenage Engineering called the OP-1. He shared that many of the samples on his album IN AND THROUGH THE BODY and the intro song “blue sky mind” were created on the OP-1. Intrigued, I bought one and started trying to figure out how to use it—though I still haven’t completely figured it out! Fast forward a couple months later i went to Trevors studio in Colorado for the first time, I brought my OP-1 hoping to get some hot tips.

In the meantime, I always take little field recordings on my phone while hiking or out with Kylo, thinking they might be cool to use someday in a song. In this case, I had a recording of Kylo ringing his bike bell in a tunnel, and also a reel of him saying “hey mom” a bunch of times. Story of a mom’s life, right? #HEYMOM! MOMMMMM!

In the process of trying to show me how to use the OP-1, Kylo’s OP was born, using the samples I had taken and then importing and manipulating them with the OP-1. Trevor titled the song “Kylo’s OP” as a placeholder, but it just kind of stuck. I was curious about what the OP in OP-1 stands for, and when I Googled it, I found that OP is short for Opus.

In music, the opus number is the "work number" assigned to a musical composition, or a set of compositions, to indicate the chronological order of the composer's publication of that work. Opus numbers are used to distinguish between compositions with similar titles; the word is abbreviated as "Op." for a single work.

It seemed appropriate, and kind of random but cool, to leave it as Kylo’s OP, being that it’s the first song with his little voice going out into the world for the first time. <3

It also made sense to me to release this as the first song in a long while, because these last 9 years have been dominated by being fully immersed in motherhood while simultaneously being pulled to create. When I realized this song is literally me trying to be a musician and a mother wrapped up in a song, it made me laugh. Mothers know—the minute you try to do something for yourself, it's like your little one senses it and suddenly needs your attention! This song is the marriage of the two, also reminding us to stay curious, childlike, and remember to tap into that purity and time in your life when you were younger and didn’t have the weight of the world and all its responsibilities on your shoulders.

Before we grew up, and had places and people to be.

Of course, this is what it means to me, but I’m always curious how it lands and what it means to the listener—so if you have any insights to share, I always love hearing them. :)

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the bounty of September, Virgo take-over, and the change of seasons in bloom.

Xo,

TP

[determinedwriter]

Whumptober 2023: Day 26: Working To Exhaustion/“You look awful.”

Ro

High school freaking sucks. I kind of knew it would, but I’ll admit I’m smart enough to push through. Or at least I thought I was.

Going to a STEM school makes everyone look smart. And they know it. Nobody knows I’m Tony Stark’s kid, so I’m just like everyone else. An average teenager.

I thought that’s what I wanted, but I think it’s almost making things worse. As far as anyone knows, I’m just some orphan. I suppose the same goes for Peter though. And he really is one.

I shouldn’t complain. But sometimes I wish I could unleash my powers on my school bullies and burn all of my terrible test scores.

I’ve been studying like crazy lately. Ever since I came home with a subpar grade on my latest project at school.

Dad acted like he didn’t care, but I saw the frown. I saw the look in his eyes. And when he’s disappointed in me, it feels like a stab to the heart.

Even if he doesn’t mean for it to hurt, it does. I think it hurts more when he lies and tells me it’s okay. I know he wants me to succeed. He wants me to be smarter than this.

Who wouldn’t want that? Especially considering he’s one of the smartest people on the planet. But my endless studying has begun to take a toll on me.

Friday chimes to life from the ceiling to speak to me. “Miss Aurora, your father is asking you to come to dinner.”

I look down at my textbook and notes. “Tell him I’m not hungry but…thanks.”

“Of course, Miss.” She replies.

I study until there’s a knock on my door. “Ro?”

“Hmm?” I ask.

Dad opens it. “Missed you at dinner. What’re you up to?”

“Studying.” I reply honestly. “Sorry I didn’t come to eat. I just wasn’t hungry really.”

He nods. “It’s alright. Make sure you get some sleep though. It’s a school night.”

“Yup.” I say. “Goodnight.”

Dad nods again. “‘Night, kiddo.”

I sigh in relief when he leaves. I’m exhausted and I don’t want him to see how much this school crap is killing me.

He deserves a kid that’s not going to flip out about the little stuff like I am.

But that’s not gonna happen, so I’m going to do my best to be who he deserves.

Working harder and harder as the days pass, practically killing myself in the process. I’m working myself to exhaustion.

The day of the big test I’ve been studying for, I can hardly make my way to my classroom. Peter notices this in an instant.

He supports my weight as I stumble in the doorway of the class, Flash making one of his very unnecessary comments. “Careful everyone, Ro’s a zombie. Don’t get bitten. Too bad she’s gonna fail this test with her lack of brains.”

“Shut up, Flash.” Peter says, helping me sit. “Ro, are you gonna be alright?”

Flash smirks. “What? I’m just saying. Zombies don’t have brains, right? Or at least they don’t use them.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t have energy for your crap.”

“Hence the zombie thing you have going on?” He asks. “I mean, you look awful.”

Peter glares at him. “Seriously dude, just drop it.”

I sigh. “It’s whatever.”

He rubs my back. “Do you need anything?”

I shrug. “No…”

He takes a water bottle out of his backpack. “Drink up. Just a little.”

“I don’t feel good.” I mumble back. “Thanks, though.”

Peter puts the bottle away, watching me nervously as our tests are handed out. Here we go. Time to either crush this or disappoint my dad once more.

“Your time starts now.” I hear the teacher tell us.

My hand shakes as I write with my pencil, the lead breaking as I press down a little too hard. God, I’m going to give myself a heart attack.

Peter notices this, silently handing me another pencil.

“Thanks.” I whisper.

He nods and gives me a thumbs up, going back to his own test after that. He’s smart as hell, but he’s probably stressed about it too.

Maybe I should’ve studied with him. I’ve been keeping to myself and doing that alone lately. It’s too late to worry about that now. Just get this done.

About halfway through the test, I can hardly ignore my dizziness and anxiety. People have begun to turn theirs in and I’m way too far behind.

God, what’s the use in studying if it just ends with me failing all over again? I’m really starting to panic now. It’s a good thing nobody knows I’m a Stark.

I shouldn’t have any association with the great Tony Stark. It’s a wonder we’re even related in the first place.

I hadn’t realized it, but my panic has become obvious now. Peter is touching my shoulder and my teacher is calling my name.

My eyes land on Flash, who laughs. I don’t know why this sends me off the deep end the way it does, but here we are. I’ve begun to hyperventilate.

“Aurora? Aurora, what’s the matter?” My teacher asks.

“I think she’s having a panic attack.” Peter explains. “Ro, just take it one step at a time. Breathe with me. Can you-“

I wobble in my chair, fainting before I hit the floor. I’ve literally worked myself to the point of unconsciousness. I didn’t think it was this bad.

My eyes open to see Peter’s face above me, carrying me quickly down the hallway. “P-Pete?”

“Ro, thank God!” He exclaims. “You scared me half to death.”

Still woozy, I don’t immediately understand why I’m his arms. “I’m…tired…”

“Try to keep your eyes open. Please.” Peter begs. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m taking you to the nurse.”

I weakly nod, but pass out again shortly after that and wake up on a cot in the nurse’s office. This time, Peter is sitting beside me.

“H-How long was I out?” I ask.

“Only a little bit. I ran here with you.” He explains. “I think everyone was more surprised I could carry you than the fact you fainted.”

“Fainted…” I echo. “Why did I…”

“You’re exhausted and dehydrated.” The nurse speaks up. I hadn’t noticed she was in the room at all.

“Oh…” I reply. “I-I don’t feel well.”

“No wonder you don’t feel well, honey. Please, just rest for now. I’ve called your emergency contact.” She tells me.

“Who is that again?” I ask, knowing it’s not Dad. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t put his name on it for my own protection and privacy.

“Harold Hogan and Pepper Potts are the two we have listed. Mr. Hogan is on his way.” The nurse replies.

I hate to whine, but I’d really like my dad right about now. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” She says.

Peter holds out the same water bottle from before. “I’m making you drink some this time.”

I chuckle weakly. “Okay.”

Taking a few sips, I lay back down until Happy arrives, looking concerned. “Hey, kid. How do you feel?”

“Like garbage.” I tell him. “I really want to go home but I need to finish that test. I’ve already disappointed my dad enough. He needs me to-“

“I need you to take it easy.” Dad finishes for me, revealing himself in the doorway and entering. “I won’t have it any other way, you got it?”

“Dad?” I gasp. “W-Why are you here? You never come here.”

“Happy told me what the nurse said. You fainted. I’m not about to leave you alone. Even if you do have him and the spider kid here.” He replies. “You look exhausted. What happened, Ro?”

I gulp, replaying the past week or so in my head. I’ve hardly eaten, drank, or slept. “I just…wanted you to be proud of me.”

Dad’s face softens in concern. “Oh, baby…it’s okay. I’m so proud of you. Nothing will ever change that. I know you’ve been studying a lot lately but I didn’t realize you were practically killing yourself over it. This could have gone much, much worse.”

Hearing the scolding, I avoid his gaze by closing my eyes. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t want to fail. I wanted to…I just wanted to be like you. I want to be smart and not even have to try and…and I can’t even do that without fainting in the middle of class.”

He sighs. “Well first of all, I don’t want you to do this ever again. I won’t have it. And second of all, you’re almost too much like me. You’re smart and you're stubborn. That’s what got you here. You put too much pressure on yourself. When was the last time you saw me get to bed at a reasonable hour?”

I shrug. “That’s different.”

“It isn’t.” Dad insists. “Having trouble with school doesn’t make you any less of a damn prodigy, kiddo. I don’t call you mini for nothing. Mini Stark. Thank God you’re not my clone though. You have empathy.”

“So do you.” I say.

“Not like yours. And yours is just natural. Effortless. I wish you had more confidence in yourself, but I’m glad you don’t have my arrogance. Even I can admit I have a big head.” He continues. “Though…I am a genius.”

Noticing I don’t laugh at this, he frowns. “I’m sorry, sweet kid. My point is…the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re smart. And your struggles don’t mean you’re not. I need you to trust me on this.”

I slowly nod, hugging him. “I didn’t mean to not take care of myself. I just got so wrapped up in trying to make you proud…I wasn’t thinking. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t realize. You can come to me with these things alright?” He replies.

“Alright.” I say.

He wraps an arm around me and helps me stand. “I’ll have Happy take us home and you can rest, okay?”

“What about my test?” I ask.

Dad scoffs. “You’ll ace it. I’ll make sure you get time to do a make up test. Don’t worry.”

I lean on his shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You’ve got it, micro.” He replies.

Peter speaks up for the first time in a good few minutes. “You’re a cool dad, Mr. Stark.”

“You know it, kid.” Dad teases. “Thanks for getting her here, by the way.”

He nods. “Of course, sir.”

Dad brings me to the car where Happy drives us home, making sure I get some desperately needed sleep and lots of water too.

Slowly but surely, I’m able to feel less anxious about test days. And Dad’s help is invaluable. He says I had it in me all along, but I credit him in helping me with my grades either way.

There’s nothing quite like a father-daughter duo.

Especially when they’re a couple of Starks.

We’re thick as thieves. And that won’t change as long as he’s by my side.

[silvstory]

The Stupendous Silver Striker: Issue One, Part One

Next

As the final bell's impending ring echoed through the bustling hallways of Robert Goddard High School, Gary Hammerschmidt deftly maneuvered through the swarm of students. He weaved through the crowded corridors, skillfully dodging classmates, lockers, and even a particularly aggressive dodgeball that whizzed past his ear.

“Sorry!” Gary cried out, narrowly avoiding a collision with a pair of students who materialized from his blind spot. He bobbed and weaved with a mix of agility and grace.

Ordinarily, Gary wouldn't be in such a hurry. He didn't usually have any pressing extracurriculars to rush to, but today was an exception.

Having received a slew of new additions for his ever-expanding model city as a reward for acing his latest test, Gary couldn't contain his excitement. The thought of returning home and immersing himself in his miniature world sent a surge of joy through his veins.

As he approached the double doors that led to his freedom, Bristol Lucian, his best friend, caught up with him.

“Hey, Gary!” Bristol grinned, sidling up beside him and nudging the doors open, gesturing for Gary to pass through first. “Got any plans for this afternoon? I'm building a new PC and could really use your help.”

Gary reciprocated Bristol's smile, adjusting his backpack onto one shoulder as he slowed his pace. He could momentarily suppress his excitement to converse with his friend.

"Sorry, Dude," Gary said apologetically. "I've got my own project to dive into."

"Oh! Right, more additions for your little city!" Bristol realized, a spark of understanding brightening his eyes. "How about tomorrow, then?"

Gary pondered for a moment. He had already committed to his model for the rest of the day, and the same applied to tomorrow. But it had been a week since he had spent quality time with Bristol, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart. After all, as his mom often said, people come first.

"Sure! I'd love to. I'll swing by tomorrow after dropping off my stuff."

"Sounds like a plan. See you tomorrow!"

With that, Bristol turned and headed for the sidewalk. Gary wished he could walk with him, but they lived on opposite sides of the city, so their paths diverged.

His walk home was blissfully uneventful, and Gary was able to slip into his imagination and begin to pre-plan what he’d do next.

I should probably add a couple more townhouses in the residential district, He thought, kicking a rock along in front of him as he made his way down the sidewalk, There just aren’t enough of them.

Gary‘s “fatal flaw“, as his dad called it, was that he just didn’t know when to quit. Currently, he had a perfectly good city, it was large, imposing, and it was filled with all sorts of wonderful miniature architecture, but there were no minute details. Gary was often so busy adding more and more buildings, that he neglected to add any figures at all.  So, the city got bigger and bigger, but there were no residents or streetlights to fill it. Gary had asked for figures, but the thing was, they might never be used.

A short time later, Gary turned a corner and found himself on his street. He jogged the last few paces and then up the stairs to the front stoop where he paused to search for his keys before jamming them in the lock and letting himself into the house.

”Afternoon, kiddo!” Derek Hammershmidt called from the kitchen as soon as Gary entered the parlor. Gary could  almost swear that his dad had a sort of sixth sense that was only useful for knowing when people were entering the house.

”Hey, Dad,” Gary returned the greeting, swinging his backpack off of his shoulder and letting it drop to the floor next to the pile of shoes that waited patiently beside the front door. Kicking off his own shoes, he wandered into the kitchen, “Lunch break?”

Gary’s dad nodded and held up a half-empty plate of pork chop leftovers,

”Yup. I take ‘em when I can, my last meeting was two hours long,” He grunted. Gary’s dad worked from home, so he was almost always around when Gary got home. Usually, he’d just come downstairs a few minutes after Gary came through the door, but sometimes he happened to be downstairs on a break.

”They’re working you to death,” Gary smirked, grabbing a can of soda from the refrigerator, “Also, you do know that Mom went to the store yesterday, right?” He pointed out, with another grin, “You don’t have to eat last night‘s leftovers.”

"And waste the rest of your mother's splendid cooking? I think not. I am the Leftover King!"

Gary rolled his eyes in a lighthearted display of feigned annoyance. Truthfully, he found his father's quirks rather endearing, but playing the part of the generic teenager was all part of the fun.

"Speaking of Mom, where is she, anyway?" Gary inquired, glancing out of the kitchen window. It seemed that Ruby Hammershmidt wasn't in the garden, her usual afternoon haunt.

"She's off picking up something she bought. A side table or something," Derek shrugged. "She should be back in about half an hour. Left a little while ago."

Gary nodded in understanding. His mom was usually off buying and selling antiques and stuff like that while Gary was at school. It was a hobby of hers that Gary took an interest in. Sometimes, when a piece needed to be fixed or refurbished, Gary would help out with some of the materials he had squirreled away in the attic. It was often good mother-son bonding time.

Gary then took a couple more sips of his soda, decided that he really wanted to get to work, drained the rest of his soda, and tossed the can in the trash. He then turned and made for the stairs, but his dad stopped him.

”Woah, woah, Rocketeer, where’re you headed?”

“My room. I want to get to work on my city,” Gary explained, halfway turning to face him, “I’ve been waiting all day, Dad.”

Gary‘s dad raised an eyebrow but said nothing else. He then shrugged,

”Alright, go on, kiddo. Have fun with your city. Build me a nice big house with a pool, won’t you?” He joked, cracking a smile, “Just make sure to come downstairs for dinner and not get sucked into that little world of yours, righto?”

Gary nodded once, already turning back towards the stairs,

”Alright, yes sir!” And then he was off, running up the stairs towards his room.

Gary raced into his room like the man on a mission that he was, and he skidded to a stop at the door, his shoes slipping on the hardwood. He knew he was a bit over excited to get back to work on something that he’d been working on for nigh months now, but that was just how he was. He just had to grab a few things before he went up to the attic, where he kept the model city. Most of his models, like the Eiffel Tower and the White House, for example, had their own space on Gary’s shelves, but since the city was so massive, it was up in the attic, which was fine for Gary since that was also where his parents made him keep his hoard of bits-and-bobs for model-making..

Gary grabbed his travel-friendly model-making kit and went to the end of the hallway and pulled down the ladder for the attic. He pushed the kit up the ladder and onto the attic floor in front of him before he pulled himself up the ladder. He always found it hard to climb stairs or ladders with stuff in his hands. Gary had this weird thing about wanting to be able to see his feet when he was going up things.

The attic was dark and dusty, so Gary pulled the cord directly above him, turning on a single LED bulb and shedding the space in bright white light. He picked up his kit and made his way over to his model city, which he had covered with a sheet the night before to prevent it from somehow getting dirty or messed up.

Gary whipped off the sheet and then stood for a moment, admiring his handiwork.

”Now that is what I call a great place to live,” Gary said, doing an announcer impression with a grin of pride on his face, “Crime rate? Zero. Coolness rate? One hundred percent!”

He chuckled to himself and put down his burden, kneeling and opening the kit while spreading the different tools around so he could get a good look at them all and decide which one he was going to use.

Where did I put my tweezers? He wondered, sifting through the disorganized kit with his eyebrows knitted together, I could have sworn I put it back in here last night…?

Then, Gary remembered. He’d left his tweezers on the table in his bedroom because he’d brought them down to re-add a couple pieces to his White House, which had lost a pillar and a windowsill.

“Shoot,” He said aloud, looking at the trapdoor and thinking whether or not it was worth it to climb back down the ladder and back to his room, Well, while I’m up here I should add in a couple figures. It’s about time.

Gary stood and brushed himself off. He turned, went over to the corner where he kept the figures and other materials, and he opened one of the drawers he knew held the plastic trees and streetlights. He didn’t think his city was yet ready for a civilian population, but a couple trees, streetlights, and other fixtures wouldn’t hurt to add some atmosphere. He gathered the figures and deposited them in the only empty space in his city, the park. It would serve as a holding spot until he could disperse the items evenly among the many buildings. He observed the pile for a moment before frowning thoughtfully.

I’m missing something. I’ve got the regular city stuff, but the park’s going to be pretty empty save for some trees… yeah. Parks usually have gaudy statues and stuff, but I don’t know if I have any of those on hand, He swept his eyes around the attic before they landed on an old trunk that he recalled his dad once telling him belonged to his grandpa, Hey! Grandpa was an architect. Maybe he had some little models he used for planning or something?

Gary climbed over piles of boxes and maneuvered around random items that had been put up in the attic for storage until he reached the trunk. There wasn’t a lock on it, but as Gary sat down and tried to open it, he found that it was a lot harder to open than he expected as the latch was rusted a bit. Gritting his teeth, he pulled with all his might, and the trunk popped open with a slight cracking noise.

Inside, there wasn’t much to look at. It was mainly empty, save for a photo album, personal papers, a wedding ring, a small statuette of a broadsword, and then just a couple of random items that seemed to have no sort of connection to each other.

I guess Grandpa was a bit of a minimalist, Gary thought, reaching down into the chest and taking out the broadsword, This would work for the park, though. I can put it on a hill or something. If I add a little plaque or something on the base of it it‘ll look just like any old memorial.

Gary then put the statuette on the edge of a box behind him and he began to dig through the papers, curious to know if he could discover anything interesting about the grandfather that died before he was born. He leafed through them, skimming underneath headers that seemed like they’d contain interesting tidbits, but he stopped after the third or fourth paper. The long, vague life of Jason Hammerschmidt wasn’t all too interesting of a read.

Gary stood and turned around to grab the statuette, ready to return to his city and then grab his tweezers, when he knocked his knuckle against the statuette. Gary’s heart seemed to skip a beat as it wobbled on its base, but it didn’t fall.

Whew, that was close. I don’t want to break that of a things! Gary thought, grabbing the statuette in his hand and walking towards the narrow path he’d made between the towering stacks of boxes, Dad would probably kill me.

Gsry turned a corner, and his shoulder bumped against one of the box towers. Then, a couple of unfortunate things happened in very quick succession.

First, the statuette slipped out of Gary’s hand, and, faster than he could duck down to try to grab it, it shattered against the floor. Then, Gary felt a severely strong force rush against him, and his vision was obscured by what looked like silver mist as he fell backwards and hit his head on a box behind him.

Gary‘s vision blurred, and for a moment all he could think was that he really didn’t want to get a concussion or die alone in the attic from blunt force trauma. Everything then went black, but just as quickly, his vision cleared.

Gary sat up, rubbing the back of his head, not sure if he was sure of what had just happened. It seemed to have happened so fast that his brain had struggled to register it. He tried recounting it in his head, but it was still just as confusing.

Gary turned to look at the offending box, a purple plastic one with the label “Dad’s Pots”. He scowled as he stood back up. Now his head hurt and he’d just broken one of his Dad’s last remaining items of his father’s!

Gary supposed he could try to recover the pieces and glue them back together, but when he looked for where he dropped it, he couldn’t find a single trace of it.

Maybe it rolled between the boxes…? Gary thought, getting on his hands and knees and pushing boxes and other junk out of the way. This is just great! I broke and lost it in one fell swoop!

Gary spent well over an hour trying to find the statuette, but no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find even the slightest trace of it. He didn’t give up, even though he was feeling a little funky and his head hurt. He only halted his search when he heard his mom calling him down for dinner.

Gary sighed deeply before climbing down the ladder and closing the trap door. He decided not to tell his parents about the broken statuette until he found it. He wanted to make sure it was actually broken before he went and got himself in trouble for it, because while he’d heard the sound of it shattering, he actually hadn’t seen it, and he was hoping that the damage wasn’t as bad as the sound had implied.

Gary trudged his feet when he reached the kitchen, and he flopped into a chair. His dad raised an eyebrow when he saw him. Clearly, Gary’s dad was confused and maybe a bit concerned by the sudden demeanor change from how he’d been couple hours before.

”You okay, Gary?” Gary’s mom asked, ever vigilant to her son’s appearance as she set a plate of lasagna in front of him, “You look… ruffled.”

”I’m fine, mom,” Gary said, feigning nonchalance despite the fact that he was still feeling a little odd, “Though, I did fall and hit my head in the attic. I’m fine, now!” He added the last part on rather quickly as his mom‘s expression twisted into a frown, “It doesn’t hurt anymore or anything.”

Ruby Hammerschmidt was excellent at telling when her son or husband was lying, but she seemed to not be too worried about Gary this time, as she let it slide and dropped the topic.

Gary was grateful that she’d left him alone on that, as he really just wanted to finish his dinner and get to bed. A good night’s sleep would make him feel better, that he was certain. He practically inhaled his lasagna and then brought his empty plate to the dishwasher.

”Thanks Mama, that was delicious. Also, despire the fact that I’m feeling fine, I do feel a little tired, so you don’t mind if I go to bed early tonight?” Gary asked, trying his best not to rub the back of his head, where a small welt had formed.

Gary’s parents exchanged a look. Clearly, there would be further questioning now or in the morning depending on whether or not they wanted to talk about his behavior. Gary hoped it would be held off for the morning because he suddenly was feeling very drained.

”That’s fine,“ Gary’s mom said after a moment or two as she walked over and gave Gary a hug and a kiss on his forehead, “Sleep well, and make sure that you’ve got any and all of your homework finished.”

Thankfully, Gary thought, reciprocating the hug, I didn’t get any homework today.

Gary then hugged his dad around the neck and turned to go upstairs, not running this time like he had only a couple hours before.

In his room, Gary kicked off his shoes and put his glasses on the bedside table before flopping down on his bed. He had been intending on laying down for a moment before getting up to do his night time routine, but sleep hit him like a sack of bricks, and he was out like a light in mere minutes.

[clochanam]

if they had a kiddo meme for Ais & Derek <3

send in "what if they had a kid" and i'll ramble about who i think our muses' kid(s) would be! ( ALWAYS ACCEPTING! NO SHIPPING REQUIRED! )

meet kieran patrick miller, a young lad who makes up for having his father's considerable height by being an absolute whizz in the kitchen! born on a bright january afternoon, kieran hasn't known a day where he wasn't doted on by both aisling and derek. his first word was (naturally) "pep", but the next one was "dada" followed immediately by "mama". surrounded by love and support, it was only natural that he'd grow to have an abundance of compassion and tenderness himself, and the best way to express said abundance was through the written word!

he won his first award for writing when he was eleven, and continued to flourish ever since. when he isn't writing, he's with his parents, either helping his father with a wide variety of projects and chatting about any number of things that come up easily between them, or helping his mother in the diner while reading some of his latest work to her. he also loves going to the gym and has recently discovered that he enjoys swimming, but only in the ocean.

he loves jelly beans and zero-sugar sodas, and his policy in life is to befriend everyone before they get any other ideas. a kind and loyal friend, he often struggles with conflict and can find it difficult to communicate difficult things to his parents, so often writes a detailed letter to @soullesstrouble , and then later on reads it to aisling. however, while he can struggle to know where to stand in some cases, anyone who speaks ill of his mother and father are immediately removed from his life. same goes to anyone who speaks poorly of @ppctts or his siblings and extended family.

one day, he dreams of becoming a world-renowned author. but for now, he enjoys every bit of his wonderfully chaotic life. going to the beach with his father and a flask of tea and a picnic, enjoying brunch with his aunt pepper, playing video games with the squad, watching movies with his siblings. the world is chaotic and frightening, yes. but it's certainly much easier to bear with people you love.