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#one day I'll draw a proper family portrait but for now all you get is floating heads. at least this time they have shoulders
francy-sketches · 14 days
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cringe ass family ❤
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helloalycia · 3 years
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The Wrong Lifetime – Six // Wanda Maximoff
chapter five | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter seven
author’s note: i’m glad you all seemed to like the last chapter! i’m all for slow burn but i didn’t want to leave you hanging too long aha. Now onto dating territory!
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Since going to Blackpool with Wanda, we hadn't actually gotten another moment to ourselves. Wedding plans were picking up which kept her busy, and if not that, then I'd only see her in passing in which we'd exchange smiles before moving on.
So, I though it would be good to take her out on a date. A proper one, even if it was to be disguised as a simple outing between soon-to-be sister-in-laws. The plan was to 'bump' into her in town, which we did, then I asked her if she wanted to go to the art gallery. She'd been before, but they'd put in a new exhibition which I thought she might like.
We couldn't exactly hold hands when there, but I made the most of her presence and stood a little too close to her than a friend might. Since she'd kissed me at the beach, I wasn't able to think about anything else. And when shot me a knowing smile, I knew she felt the same.
"I like this one," I told her, pointing to a piece hung on the wall, before squinting to read the plaque. "Jedburgh Abbey from the River by Thomas Girtin."
"And why's that?" she asked, watching me with humoured eyes.
I pursed my lips, glancing between her and the painting sheepishly. "I'm not gonna lie, I just like the way the guy painted the clouds in the sky."
She stifled laughter, not wanting to draw attention from passers-by, and nudged me in the shoulder. "You're unbelievable, milaya (darling). We didn't have to come here if you don't like art."
I gave her a knowing look. "Hey, I love art. Especially when it's by a certain Sokovian artist named Wanda Maximoff."
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. I grinned at her bashfulness, wanting to tease her but also very true with my words. Her work was my favourite, biased or not, and I still had that amazing portrait she'd done of me in my room back home. It was tucked into one of my drawers where nobody would find it. I didn't want anyone else to look at it since she'd done it for me and it was private... it was a beautiful reminder of the amazing day we'd had.
"You're poking fun, but in all seriousness, I'd actually love for my work to be up here someday," she said softly, looking at the painting before us with hopeful eyes. 
"They wish they were that lucky to score someone as talented as you," I said without skipping a beat.
She cracked a smile, tilting her head in my direction. It was obvious she was losing her patience with me, but I enjoyed watching her lose it. She didn't know what to say, especially when being complimented, and it was endearing to witness.
We remained civil for the remainder of the 'date', refraining from holding hands or gazing at each other longer than friends would, and I was pretty proud of myself for not thinking about kissing her once when we were done.
As we got into the carriage to go back home, the door closed and I was going to ask her how she found it when she moved towards me in an instant, kissing me without question. I raised my hand, caressing her jaw and closing my eyes as she leaned forward, practically on my lap, not that I cared. She sucked on my bottom lip sensually before she opened her mouth, pushing her tongue into mine. I almost forgot how to breathe as she did, unprepared for such an intense kiss.
"I've been wanting to do that all day," she revealed when she pulled away.
I flushed at the contact, a dazed smile on my lips. "Huh."
She chuckled as she sat back beside me more 'appropriately'. "Thanks for taking me. I loved it."
I nodded lamely, still trying to recover from our kiss. "I'm– I'm glad."
She smirked playfully, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting back. "You're so cute."
My words still hadn't returned, so all I could do was nod before looking the other way. Her laughter filled the carriage and I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky to be in the presence of someone so perfect.
After exchanging some more kisses and actually being able to hold hands without prying eyes, we reached Wanda's home and she invited me in for some tea. Sadly, that meant we had to let go of one another, but I think she'd given me enough to remember her by as we parted, and she must have thought the same, judging from the smirk she sent my way.
We sat on the patio outside to have some tea and biscuits, enjoying the sunshine and blue skies, a rare occurrence for England. We were chatting mindlessly when her brother decided to make an appearance, helping himself to a seat between Wanda and I.
"How lovely of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Y/L/N," he said playfully, shooting me a charming smile, before reaching to grab a biscuit. Wanda slapped his hand but he stole one anyway, making her roll her eyes.
"Nice to see you, Pietro," I greeted with amusement, always enjoying his presence.
"And you," he returned, before chowing down his biscuit.
Wanda gave me a fed up look over his shoulder which he was oblivious to, and I tried not to laugh as she clearly wasn't a fan of him interrupting our time.
"So, I caught a glimpse of the wedding invitations," Pietro said, making conversation. He glanced between us with a nod of approval. "They're coming along well."
I hummed in agreement, smile becoming less real when he mentioned the wedding. Wanda didn't acknowledge his words as she fiddled with the handle of her teacup.
"Is your brother behaving, Y/N?" Pietro continued jokingly, looking to me. "I know how many admirers he has, but my sister should be his first priority."
"Oh, Piet...," Wanda breathed out with embarrassment, facepalming.
"Of course he is," I assured her brother with a small smile. "He wouldn't dare try hurting Wanda or he'd have a lot of explaining to do."
There was some playfulness in my voice, but an underlying truth to my words.
"It's sweet how close you've gotten," Pietro noticed, looking between us, before settling his gaze on me. "It's about time Wanda made friends with people who aren't me."
Cue another slap. I chuckled at her sheepish expression, amused by Pietro's antics.
"Anyway," he changed the subject for his sister's sake, "mother has been getting on my very nerve about finding a bride because you decided to get married."
Wanda rolled her eyes. "We both know I didn't decide, Piet."
He sighed over-dramatically. "Well, it's because of your engagement that she's now on my back about it."
"Join the club," I joked, knowing exactly what he meant. "My mum was already on my back about finding a husband, but since this engagement, it's ten times more annoying."
Pietro laughed. "Oh, no. Has she lined up suitors? My parents like to point out every pretty woman they see to me in hopes I'll make a move. It's hardly productive."
"I haven't asked her for fear she'll pull out a folder with all of the eligible bachelors in town," I said, half joking and half serious.
Pietro snickered as Wanda rolled her eyes in the background. She should have been happy I was getting along with her brother. He was actually quite entertaining to be around.
"It's funny you say that because you're one of the women my parents pointed out," he admitted.
"Oh, God, so they're saying the same thing to you?" I asked with a groan, and he nodded regretfully. "Isn't it just the worst?"
"You're a lovely girl, Y/N, don't get me wrong," he began gently, "but I don't like you like that."
I raised my hand for a high five. "Me and you both."
Laughing once again, he returned my high five and I was glad we were on the same page. The amount of people that had been hinting at getting to know Wanda Maximoff's very single brother was getting pretty annoying. It was nice to know he was just as irritated at the insinuation as I was.
"Okay, I should leave you both to it," Pietro concluded, slapping his knees and standing up. Looking to me, he said, "Miss Y/L/N, it was as lovely as ever to make your acquaintance."
I smiled as he winked playfully before looking to his disgruntled sister.
"Dear sister, the pleasure is always mine," he continued to tease, and she slapped him once more, making him dodge her and begin to leave. "Love you, too!" he called before heading back inside.
I laughed at his silliness and relaxed in my seat, looking back to Wanda. She didn't seem half as amused as I was as she drummed her fingers on the table and chewed on the inside of her cheek.
"I may be mistaken, love, but it looks like you're jealous," I poked fun at her.
She rolled her eyes and her jaw tensed before she finally looked to me, expression softening. "Can you blame me?" she asked quietly. "You're both single. You're both similar age. Everybody talks."
I shrugged nonchalantly, having a sip of my tea. "True... but I've got my eye on another Maximoff anyway."
She sighed, small smile creeping on her lips. Subtly moving my chair closer to hers, I grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. My thumb stroked her hand softly as I leaned on the palm of my hand on the table.
"You look really beautiful today," I admitted in a hushed voice. "I should have told you earlier."
She, too, leaned into the palm of her hand as she watched me with an enchanting gaze. "So do you, milaya (darling)."
Unable to resist, I glanced around quickly before kissing her cheek and pulling away. Letting go of her hand, I busied myself with the tea and biscuits again.
"Biscuit?" I offered her, and she began to laugh at my attempt at acting casual.
Playing along, she accepted the biscuit from my hand. But a knowing smile was on her lips as she nodded. "Thank you."
Being with Wanda was a luxury in itself, even if we had to keep it private.
To everybody else, we were merely two women about to become family who happened to create a bond that was close. But we both knew what it really was and weren't eager to say it. Because saying it made it true and that meant that what we were doing became realer than it was in our daydreams and hidden moments.
I did find myself wracked with guilt sometimes – particularly the times when Y/B/N would gush about how excited he was to marry her. Wanda was technically cheating on him with me, his sister, but that fact was something that was still blurry to me.
We had no choice but to lie and be secretive. In a world like this, where we would never be able to be together like we wanted to, all we had was secrecy and deception. Did that still make us bad people?
I tried not to think about what would happen when she actually married my brother. The future was something I was adamant on pushing to the back of my mind because I knew what it would hold and I just wanted to enjoy the time I had with her. Convincing myself that what we had wasn't serious, just a heat of the moment relationship maybe, made things easier to accept. But really, I knew that whenever she looked my way with her signature smile and dazzling eyes, it was way more than I envisioned. She was way more.
So, trying not to be dragged down with the weight of reality, I vowed to myself to only focus on the now. Focus on the moments I shared with her whilst we could. Anything beyond that and I'd surely snap.
"Medovyy (honey), the Y/L/Ns are here!" Iryna called behind her, before looking to my family and I as we stood at her front door. "Please, all of you, come in!"
She ushered us into the main hall before closing the door after us. Perfectly timed, the rest of her family left the living room and came to greet us.
Automatically, my eyes found Wanda's and she was already looking my way, her dimple making a show as she attempted to reign in an excited smile. I did the same, trying to ignore the way my heart stirred upon seeing her.
Oleg and Iryna welcomed my parents and then me, kind expressions accompanying genuine greetings. In the corner of my eye, I saw Pietro shaking Y/B/N's hand before Wanda took his place, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Y/B/N. It wasn't jealousy that I felt whenever they were together, at least not entirely – they were to be married, what more could I expect? – but it wasn't anything pleasant either.
"Ah, my favourite Y/L/N," Pietro beamed upon shaking my hand, making my lips twitch upwards. "You excited for dinner? We're having salmon."
"Ecstatic, Pietro," I answered with a playful eye roll. "All I've been thinking all day."
He chuckled at my sarcasm before letting go of my hand and moving over to greet my parents. Wanda was next, her shoulders relaxing when she stepped before me with a soft smile present on her lips.
"It's good to see you," she said, but her eyes said much more than that. "How have you been?"
Exchanging a friendly-looking hug, my body was warm where she pressed against me. Touching her always sent a rush of emotion through me and I looked forward to it every time.
"I've been good," I answered aloud, before whispering into her ear, "Better now."
She squeezed my waist inconspicuously in response before letting go. "That's good. You know, we've got time before dinner and I wanted to show you the painting I've been working on lately. Wanna see?"
I glanced at my parents and hers for permission, knowing they'd heard her question.
"Just try not to take too long since dinner will be on the table soon," Iryna said with a nod. "It's so good to see you girls getting along."
Breathing out slightly, I smiled gratefully before letting Wanda intertwine our fingers and drag me up the staircase. She led me past several doors before we finally reached hers and she tugged me inside.
As soon as the door closed, she was quick to connect our lips in a heated, desperate kiss. I relaxed against her instantly, my hands falling to her side and pulling her closer. Her fingernails gently scratched the sensitive skin behind my neck, giving me goosebumps, and I let out an involuntary gasp at the feeling.
When we pulled away for a breath, her nose brushed against mine and she pressed a final kiss to my lips, slower and more tasteful compared to the first, before smiling at me.
"I missed you," she said, as if reading my mind.
A breathy laugh escaped my lips. "It's only been a week since we last saw each other, love."
She shrugged, arms laced around my neck. "A week too long."
Raising a brow judgementally, I gave her a knowing look. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest as her half-lidded eyes met mine with a confident smirk.
"Did you just pull me up here to have a quick snog?" I teased her.
"Well, yes," she said, making me laugh again, before adding, "And I wanted to ask you if you'll go to the park with me tomorrow. A picnic. If you want."
She bit her lip anxiously, eyes darting elsewhere as she waited for an answer. I always found it amusing how she could be so confident one second and then so innocently adorable the next.
"Wanda, I'd love to." My thumb rubbed circles on her waist as I kept ahold of her. "I hear it's supposed to be nice weather tomorrow, too."
She pursed her lips. "Even if it rained, I'd still drag you to the park with me."
"Somehow, I feel like that's true," I countered with a ghost of a smile on my lips. She tried to hide her own smile and I continued, "Was there an actual painting you wanted to show me or...?"
Breathing out with amusement, she intertwined our fingers and pulled me to the back of her room where her 'studio' was. Since the last time I'd visited, there were plenty of new additions to her work, all as wonderful as the next.
"This one is from the beach at Blackpool," she said, stopping before a medium-sized canvas depicting the horizon. "When we sat on the bench. Just before I kissed you."
My heart fluttered at the memory and I studied the canvas, recalling it looked similar to her watercolour painting of the same view. She'd done a spectacular replica in oil paints, reminiscent of the trip we took.
"You should already know what I'm going to say," I said, looking to her knowingly. "But just so you can hear it again, I absolutely love this. You're so talented."
She rolled her eyes to distract from the pink spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you... and again, thank you for taking me. Seeing an actual water source upfront really helped me refine my paintings. It feels so much more real now."
I looked back to the painting, noticing what she meant. Either way, I loved both versions of her work, before and after going to the beach.
"You did good, love."
She squeezed my hand gently before sighing quietly with realisation. "We should probably go back down."
"We should," I agreed, glancing at her. "Thanks for showing me these."
She cracked a smile, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. "Always."
Reluctantly, the two of us returned downstairs and joined the others as they were settling at the dining table. Wanda and I sat side by side, and this time when her fingers brushed mine, I made no move to pull away.
The meal was good, but as usual, I found myself zoning out. The conversation made its rounds, falling to me as the Maximoffs wanted to know how I was doing, then moved on, giving me chance to focus on eating my dinner and getting through the evening. I knew that at one point, everybody was talking about some play that was showing in the theatres.
Bits of the conversation were going in one ear and out the other and I was minding my own business until Wanda's bare foot rubbed against my leg under the table. The sensation of her skin against mine made my knee bounce up and hit the table with surprise, earning everyone's attention.
"Are you okay, dear?" Oleg asked, noticing my discomfort.
I cleared my throat, straightening up and ignoring the stifled smile Wanda had in my peripheral vision.
"I'm good, sorry about that," I apologised awkwardly, shivering when she dragged her foot back down my leg. "You were talking about the play, right?"
That seemed to distract them, as they leapt right back into conversation, giving me a chance to breathe out with relief. I looked to Wanda, watching her lean on her palm and hide a smirk as she stared at me with mischievous eyes.
Glaring and nudging her in the arm subtly, I looked back to my food, but she didn't move her foot, nor her hand. Both brushed my against me, starting a fire on my skin and making me swallow hard. She kept like that for the whole evening, making my head dizzy and leaving me at a loss for words.
And when I looked her way, she was already staring, definitely knowing the effect she had on me.
"I just need to find my shoes and we can go," I told Wanda the next morning, before our date at the park.
She'd come to pick me up at my house and was hanging around my room as I finished getting ready. From her place at my desk, she hummed in acknowledgment before distracting herself with my notebooks.
"I see you're making great use of the notebook I picked out for you," she commented, and I glanced towards her mid-search for my shoes, seeing she was flicking through the already-filled book.
"I have a lot of ideas, what can I say?" I joked, before looking under the pile of clothes near my wardrobe.
She chuckled, before falling quiet again. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing until she spoke up after a few minutes.
"Y/N, your writing is beautiful," she said, making me look her way to see an amazed smile on her lips. "I didn't know you could write like this. I mean– I should have because you helped write that letter Y/B/N gave to me, but this..."
I shrugged awkwardly, distracting myself with my search again. "It's okay, I guess."
She exhaled mockingly. "Okay? Y/N, this is miles better than okay. Why didn't you show me this sooner?"
I smiled satisfactorily as I finally located my shoes. Grabbing them, I approached Wanda and took a seat on the edge of my bed, opposite her seat at my desk.
"Because it'll never be anything more than what you're looking at?" I said rhetorically. "It'll only ever be words confined to pages that nobody will see?"
She gave me a knowing look. "I think you forget that my brother is a publisher, dorogoy (dear)."
"And I think you forget that he is the publisher to my brother, dear," I retorted playfully.
She sighed, shaking her head and putting the notebook back on my desk. "You know Pietro would love this, right? He'd sign you in a heartbeat."
I snickered at the ludicrous thought. "Wanda, you're a little biased, love."
She rolled her eyes. "Writers write for audiences. I am an audience. I consume literature. And I'm telling you that it's not just me who would read what you have to write."
I tried not to laugh as I pulled my shoes onto my feet.
"Are you really telling me that you'd never want to get published?" she asked with a raised brow.
My heart ached at the thought of such a fantasy. "Of course I would, Wanda." I met her eyes, which were already peering across from me patiently. "I've dreamed of that. But it's just not what's to happen. My family have told me that many times. In another lifetime, maybe."
She pursed her lips, studying me thoughtfully. I offered her a smile and stood up, holding out my hand.
"Forget that," I told her. "I believe you promised me a picnic."
Thankfully, she dropped the subject and accepted my hand, letting me pull her up. The topic wasn't brought up again and I wouldn't have had it any other way.
We went to the park like she wanted and she brought a picnic basket with her, having packed a lovely variety of finger foods and snacks.
As she was unpacking the food onto the blanket, I narrowed my eyes at her. "You know, now that we're finally alone, I can say how unfair it was of you to do what you did last night."
She played dumb, shrugging, focusing on neatening up the sandwiches on a plate. "I don't know what you mean, milaya (darling)."
"Huh. Sure you don't."
Giggles flew from her lips as she glanced at me through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just love seeing you squirm. You get all tense and it's so cute."
I pursed my lips. "I figured. You've been watching me squirm since we met."
She grinned knowingly before straightening up. "Okay, I made sandwiches and there's also some coleslaw, fruit, cheese... I made some Sokovian dishes, too, if you want to try them. Okroshka – it's like a cold soup. Then there's this olivye salad. It's... well, salad."
I smiled at the thought she put into it all and grabbed her hand between us. We'd set the picnic out behind a tree so we wouldn't have curious eyes watching us. It didn't look like we were overtly hiding, but we still got our privacy, too.
"It all looks great, Wanda," I said with appreciation. "I can't wait to try it."
She squeezed my hand in response before letting go to grab some paper plates. After popping a strawberry in her mouth, she asked, "Do you just want a bit of everything?"
I leaned on the back of my hands as I hummed a 'yes'. She began to put me some food in and I watched her, admiring the sight.
Her hair was half-pulled back today, falling in waves down her back and exposing her perfectly sculpted jawline. Everything about her was perfect – the way she moved was elegant and graceful, even when her hair fell over her shoulder and in her way; she simply moved it back with a flick of her hand and resumed what she was doing. The sun caught her immaculately, her hair glowing bright under the light and her eyes magnificently green as they focused.
As always, she took my breath away.
"Here," she said, holding out the plate towards me and pulling me from my reverie.
I accepted the plate and fork, returning her smile, before she watching as she began to make another plate for herself.
"You sure this is fancy enough for you?" I asked jokingly, stabbing my fork into a carrot. "I heard you and my brother went to a very luxurious restaurant the other night."
She met my eyes, holding amusement in her own. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya (darling)."
I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes. "I'm not jealous, I just– it's so annoying listening to him talk about how beautiful you are or how funny you are or how kind you are."
"Oh, so you don't think I'm any of those things?" she teased, trying to get a rise out of me.
I titled my head towards her. "Of course I know you're all those things. But it doesn't mean I like hearing him talk about it constantly..."
Clearly amused, she erupted into laughter and I felt my face heating up with embarrassment. I know it sounded like I was whining, but it was true. Sometimes, I wasn't envious of my brother but rather at the fact that he could actually take Wanda out properly. He could be seen with her in public and hold her hand without fear of getting looks or disowned. He had the privilege of being with her and it wasn't fair.
"You may hear him talk about it, but there's one thing I can assure you that you get that he doesn't," she said when recovering from her laughter.
I stared at her with an exasperated sigh. "And what's that?"
She smiled confidently, glancing around quickly, before leaning forward and kissing me softly. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, leaving me desiring more.
Licking my lips, I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. "You know, you're a really good kisser."
She chuckled at my reaction and I found myself leaning in again, entranced by the way she tasted. Putting my plate to the side, I raised a hand to pull her closer, getting better access to her mouth.
She tasted sweet like the strawberry she'd just eaten and I swiped my tongue across her lip, indicating I wanted her to part her them. She did, allowing me to slip my tongue in and wrestle with hers, revelling in the way she tasted. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as she let out a moan, it reverberating in my mouth and giving me goosebumps.
When lack of oxygen became an issue, she pulled away breathlessly, flushed cheeks adorned with a smile.
"As lovely as that was, I actually want to eat what I made," she ridiculed playfully.
"Yes, we will," I assured her, my hand moving from her neck up to her jaw. My thumb touched her lips, outlining them tenderly, subconsciously committing them to memory. "We'll get back to it."
She wanted to laugh, but I moved forward and caught her bottom lip between mine, unable to stay away. It was wrong, the rush I felt in my gut and the warmth that spread all over my body and the tingles that travelled down my spine. Because I knew what it all meant, but admitting it was a different story. So, I didn't.
I just continued to kiss the girl before me, knowing I could have kissed her forever and not regretted a single thing.
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notasdriedapricots · 3 years
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Hi! If you don’t mind, would you share a lot more of dad!Lucas headcanons please!
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Well I do not mind at all! I'm sorry if there's people wishing I'd shut up about it lol Here is the first part of these, just in case, and here are some comments on pregnancy and choosing a nanny. And sorry it took me so long to get to this!
So, some more general HC and then I'll add some specific for a girl or a boy because why not.
- That child is getting technology time so, so limited… They're gonna be playing outside (likely taking classes for a chosen sport), they'll get tons of pencils and paper to draw, paint, jigsaw puzzles, cubes, books, playdough… Physical things, rather than an iPad and Kids Netflix 24/7. I HC Lucas as working in rehabilitation, and some fellow psychologist will remark the importance of early cognitive and motor stimulation. And he'll take it very seriously, even if it requires a bit of extra work from him and MC.
- He would be the one teaching them how to walk (again, according to my work HC for him, he already does that with grown people so he would take this as a personal mission).
- OBSESSIVE about proper nutrition while they grow up. Lots of research about when children can start eating certain things, swatting forks away screaming "ARE YOU INSANE?? DO YOU KNOW HOW ALLERGENIC TOMATOES ARE??". That kid will have no allergies and a killer immune system.
- So much frustration during the "picky eater" phase, oh my god. He can't understand why they won't eat something they used to like, and now they just want spaghettis with cream and nothing else.
- Slightly hurt if he's woken up by a distant "Mom, I had a nightmare" instead of a closer "Dad, I had a nightmare" in the middle of the night…
- His worst nightmare is the supermarket tantrum. MC knows the basic principle of: You just explain why you said "no" and let them cry their eyes out, the rest of the people know kids that age throw tantrums. But Lucas? Lucas would get anxious that people would think he's a bad father and end up giving in even if he knows he shouldn’t, and then when they don't stop because sometimes what children actually want is just to cry, he would get even more anxious and just leave the supermarket without whatever they were there for.
- Punishments are smart and evil, but effective. Nothing physical, of course, and nothing unenforceable like "No TV for a month", and nothing cruel like "Not seeing your friends for two weeks". No. Something simpler. "No TV, only for two hours, for a week". Which two hours you ask? The two hours their favourite cartoon is on. "Sure, we'll still go to your favourite park. But later. When the dog you always pet has already gone home." "Yes, you can have a cookie after lunch. Any you want, except you favourite." Little things that make a point. They didn't do anything unforgiveable so it won't merit anything big, but he'll make sure there are consequences to it.
- No family portrait, but he takes all their drawings to his practice and pins them on a board next to his desk.
- Firm believer on the "one language, one physical activity, one artistic interest" triad. The specifics in each category are up to the kid.
- "Daaaad, can we go for a ride on your bike?" "Absolutely not." "… Why?" "Because it's dangerous. No." "Why is it dangerous?" "Because it goes very fast and you can fall and get hurt." "Then we'll get another bike that's not dangerous." "All bikes are dangerous." *Points to his arm* "That one too?"
- Bonus points if after that they cry every time they see Lucas grab his helmet. "Dad, no! You're gonna die!"
- The kid would be curious about his job and think he's a doctor. He would kinda let them believe it while they're still young because explaining the difference would be a bit too complicated for a small child; a "Not exactly a doctor, but close" type of deal.
- He's so over the top when it comes to material stuff… "Dad, can you get me a book by this author?" "Which one?" "Whichever you find!" *The next day* "I got what you wanted!" *puts three bags filled with the author's entire bibliography on the table*.
- I don't like it, but he would be kind of a "suck it up" kinda parent… Not because he doesn't get that you shouldn't shake everything off but because he doesn't know how to deal with it himself. Mom would be more understanding.
- This has to do with a very specific HC from my Lucas in my fic but I figured I might as well share it. Lucas would never ever suggest it, it probably wouldn't even cross his mind, but if MC said she wanted to be a stay at home mom for a couple of years, he wouldn't oppose.
- Another personal HC (a bit too personal as it vaguely comes from actual personal experience), is that he doesn't have a bad relationship with his family. They are all just a bit distant, mostly only talking and seeing each other for Sunday brunch with very little interaction besides that (which makes some sense on a particular level but I won't get into it right now). So, while he doesn't actually resent his family, he wouldn't want his kid to feel that distance or coldness; it would be difficult because that's the way he's used to interact with family, it's what he learned, but he would make the effort and follow MC's lead on being a more loving parent.
Lucas and a daughter:
- The OG, my first dad!Lucas HC ever, from the Baby Challenge I've had written since last year, is that he would melt for the rest of his life if he had a daughter.
- She is a princess, she's perfect, and no human being will ever be good enough for her, don't @ him. No one is surprised by this headcanon, right?
- He can't say no to her, he just can't. Again, no one is surprised.
- Also, she grows up seeing him as the model of the ideal partner, seeing how he treats her mom and being taught that's how her partner should treat her.
- "Can I put make up on you?" "Sorry, honey, no." "… Well, can I give you another tattoo, then?" "… Okay."
- "Lucas, we can't keep buying her just dresses. She's a kid, she needs to run around and play, and be comfortable. Just let her be in a pair of trousers or shorts and a t-shirt." "Yeah, you're right… She looks so cute, though!" "Yes, but all those pretty dresses are going into the sandbox, you know?"
- "Lucas, why did you buy her a real tea set?" "What do you mean why? What did you want me to buy her? Plastic?" "Yes! It's a toy!" "I'm not buying her a set of plastic Barbie-pink cups. That's tacky." "Okay then, what do you think it's gonna happen if she drops one, it shatters, and she tries to clean it up without asking for help." "… She- she would ask for help." "You never know." *Suddenly pale Lucas*
Lucas and a son:
- If he's into them, sports! If he's not, Lucas won't force him.
- While Lucas is away he would ask mom or the nanny for one of his white shirts and pretend he's wearing a lab coat like his dad. Lucas would get him a tiny lab coat of his own, with the pockets and everything.
- Some physical play, as in putting him upside down or tickle wars type of deal.
- He would look up to his dad so much it's ridiculous. He's his hero, and his role model. He would copy his walk, the way he seats, the way he talks… So much so, people would insist they look exactly the same even if they don't because the "vibe" resemblance is that strong.
- Just imagine his face if the kid said he wanted to follow his footsteps profession-wise.
- The chats about how to treat women and how to stand up to bullies both for himself and for others…
- Quiet camaraderie when he's older.
Okay, I'll stop here again lol. Now I'm thinking about teens and Lucas, but if I get into that this will be a novel and we don't want that. Again, thanks for asking these! Now I want to write a dad!Lucas fic, damn you all.
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