#I still would not romance him probably but

[stellamarielu]

sweetheart

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: working late with your boss (who you have a massively embarrassing crush on) was a normal occurrence for you. not a normal occurrence? him finding your favorite smutty romance novel and asking too many questions about it.

content: mutual pining, nsfw themes, age gap i guess, not actual smut but there are implications, teasing, some dirty talk (bc let's be real it's "how would you have liked him to touch you" declan)

author's note: so this is the first writing i've posted on here because this man and his hairy chest have me in a chokehold. the internet deserves more rivals fics!

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It was the third Thursday in a row you found yourself still at work after everyone else had gone home. You were sat across from your boss, the only thing separating you was an office desk. The piece of furniture was obnoxiously oversized, but you were thanking the universe for it because if Declan was sat even an inch closer, he would probably be able to hear your heart pounding. You had such a ridiculous crush on him. You knew it was inappropriate, but you couldn’t seem to care less. So here you were working overtime just to sit and gawk at him. Pathetic.

Sometimes you swore there was some sort of tension between the two of you. The accidental stares that lingered a little too long. The careful touch of his hand on your lower back when he passed behind you. Sure, you were probably reading too far into it, but in the back of your mind you hoped that he saw you as more than a young naïve coworker. 

Your delusions were further fueled by Declan’s constant invitations to join him in his office on Thursday nights. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that you would stay late every single night if he asked you to. 

But of course, he knew. 

He knew you thought he was attractive. He knew that his presence made you nervous. He knew that you had an embarrassing schoolgirl crush on him, and he liked it. 

Not only did he like the idea of you wanting him, but Declan reciprocated it. He spent most days with his gaze trained on the work laid out in front of him to avoid eye contact with you. He knew the second your eyes met he wouldn’t be able to control the small smile that tugged at his lips. He would never admit it, but he lived for making you giggle. The sound of your laugh was irresistible. He would crack little jokes throughout the day just to hear it.

Your voice alone was like music to his ears- christ, even the way you said his name drove him insane. He could feel warmth spreading through his chest just thinking about it.

The thoughts he had about you were unbecoming. Thoughts a boss shouldn’t have about their employee let alone an employee that was almost half their age. 

So, he tried his best to suppress his feelings and treat you as he would any other coworker. But it sure as hell didn’t help when you were always so quick to stay late and help him with his work. Granted he knew by asking you to assist him after hours he was just digging himself deeper into this newfound obsession. But he couldn’t help it, he longed to be in your presence even if it was just an extra hour or two once a week. 

These nights were mostly filled with silence but the occasional banter about office drama or a Keats work that you both admired was enough to have him wrapped around your finger day after day.

“What was that article you were tellin’ me about?” His question breaks the silence that had been occupying the room for the last fifteen minutes. 

You look up from your busy work only to be met with his kind eyes. For a man that had no problem showing his angry side, you felt lucky that you so often got to experience a version of Declan that was calm and light-hearted. You sometimes thought he had a sweet spot for you, although you came to terms with it probably being because you reminded him of his daughter who was just a few years younger than you.  

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that. Hold on I think I have it in here.” You began the search for an article you had mentioned to him that morning. It was an old gossip piece that you thought would be good for him to use on the show tomorrow night. 

You began taking things out of your bag one by one trying your best to find the paper in your giant unorganized tote. Notepads, books, a handful of pens, and your favorite lipstick that you thought you lost months ago are now strewn across Declan’s desk as you continue digging through your belongings. 

A small chuckle escapes Declan making you stop your search for a split second. Your head snaps up expecting to see him looking at you in irritation for creating such a mess, instead you notice his attention on one of the books you had taken out of your bag. Looking down you realize your copy of Lizzie Vereker’s novel was sat on his desk. A novel that was well known for its extremely erotic contents… and your copy was so worn the spine was barely intact. 

Before you could try to say something to make the situation less mortifying Declan spoke, 

“I see you’ve read Lizzie’s book then.” 

There was no questioning his amusement. He seemed to be enjoying how awkward this was for you. 

“That Lizzie is a quirky gal, but a truly great author.” He finished and picked up the book thumbing through the pages. 

“She gave me a copy after the garden party last month. When she mentioned to me that she was a writer, this-” you said motioning to the book, “wasn’t exactly what I had in mind”

You giggled as you spoke and the second the sound left your lips Declan’s eyes met yours. There was something about his stare now that you couldn’t place. 

“So I take it you’ve read it then?” You asked him, needing to say something to keep yourself from full on passing out in embarrassment. You wish you had asked something else because you desperately needed to change the subject from the smutty pages Declan held in his hands. 

“My-“ He paused, “Maud read it years ago. I remember readin’ a bit of it myself. Absolute filth.” 

He was looking back down at the book while his hands found the worn spine, a smirk plastered on his face. 

Okay, so now he knew you were so miserably horny that you not only read the book, but you enjoyed it so much that you must’ve re-read it multiple times- hence the condition of the novel. 

“You certainly seem to be a fan of her work.”

With this comment your humiliation began turning into irritation. Was he trying to further embarrass you by implying that you’ve clearly enjoyed the book? Can a woman not read exceptionally horny literature in peace? Now you’re becoming annoyed by the whole conversation. Afterall, it’s really none of Declan’s business what you do in your free time.  

“Yeah, well I spend a lot of nights alone in my apartment Declan.” You deadpan. “I’ve found the dating pool in this town to be quite depressing and I’m 99% sure the men in that book are much better than anyone I would meet here anyway.” 

You haven’t been living here long, it’s been maybe three months since you got the job to be a production assistant on Declan’s show. You’ve been working so much that you haven’t had much time to scope out the town’s most eligible bachelors, but from what you’ve seen you’re not interested. Not to mention the inconveniently debilitating crush that you had on your boss keeping you from noticing anyone else at all. 

“Oh and why’s that?” He challenges. This time looking you straight in the eyes, a smirk still playing on his lips.

Alright, he wanted to keep this up so why not. Two could play at this game. 

“For starters, these men” You steal the book out of his hands, “are written by women. Meaning they have empathy, they’re emotionally expressive and socially aware. Seemingly simple character traits but you would be shocked by how many men I’ve met in the last few months who lack the basic complexity of a fictional character.”

His smirk has turned into a full-blown smile making your body feel warm. 

“Not to mention the men in this book are capable of making a woman cum not just once but multiple times in a row. Which seems to be an impossible task for every man I’ve been with.” You continue your rant. Declan’s eyes fixed on you.

“These guys are getting off on a woman’s pleasure” you tap your book, “truly enjoying making their partner feel good. Meanwhile in reality, most men don’t even care if you finish as long as they get theirs.”  The second the words leave your mouth you realize you’re talking about orgasms with your unbelievably handsome boss staring right at you and immediately feel the need to hide underneath the desk in front of you. 

You look at Declan and notice his expression has gone from playful to something more serious. His lips show no evidence of a smile, instead they’re now relaxed and somewhat parted. His deep brown eyes are slightly hooded, and you could’ve sworn you noticed his chest rising and falling at a rather quick pace. He waits a few moments before standing from his chair and slowly making his way to your side of the desk.

“Well sweetheart,” 

Your mouth gapes open at the words. He’s never called you that. But hearing the pet name fall from his lips in such a deep raspy tone sends shivers down your spine. 

“I’ll have you know the kind of men you’re talkin’ about from your book do indeed exist.”

No longer separated by the desk he now stood right next to you, close enough that you could smell his cologne and the cigarette smoke that lingered on his suede blazer. 

“Some men relish in their partner’s pleasure. They can’t get enough of the way their body reacts to their touch. The way they look so needy and desperate for release.” 

He stops for a brief second. His eyes slowly drop to your feet and take their sweet time coming back up to meet your eyes, steadily drinking in the sight of your body underneath him as you sit still in your chair.

“The pretty noises they make as they come undone.”

His Irish accent sounds heavier than normal, and his voice is hushed. Your body is frozen in place and the room suddenly feels ten degrees hotter. His words are stirring something thick and foggy in your head and you can’t think straight. You’re all too aware of how close you are to him. Your face a mere foot away from his crotch. You’re able to make out the intricately braided patterns in his belt and you try to stop yourself from letting your eyes sink lower to what’s beneath it. 

Declan watches your gaze fall, and his mind starts to race. Knowing any second now his attraction to you will be evident by the strain of his pants. He gently takes your chin in his fingertips and pulls your gaze upward so you’re now looking up at him through your lashes. 

Fuck- that sight alone is enough to make him finish in his pants like a teenage boy.

You looking up at him with innocent eyes, your lips parted just inches away from his hips- he thinks he may die right there on the spot. The effect you have on him is intoxicating, clouding his thoughts and almost making him see stars. What he says next comes from a place of carnal desire surprising even him, 

“Unbelievable that the men who’ve had the privilege of bein’ with you don’t even know how to fuck you properly. If I had you in my bed I would take my sweet time makin’ you cum over and over again until you’re beggin’ me to stop.”

As he speaks the hand that was resting underneath your chin gradually makes its way down, his fingertips now ghosting your jawline. 

“You deserve somebody who knows how to make you feel good sweetheart.”

There he goes with that nickname again. This time he says it and you can’t deny the warmth that pools between your thighs.  

Just as you open your mouth to respond, Declan’s phone starts to ring. Your eyes remain locked on one another as the incessant ringing continues. You were beginning to think Declan would ignore the call so he could continue dirty talking you into a puddle, but he stood up straight from his position at the desk and began walking to the other side of the room. Answering the phone, he gazed back at you running a hand through his curls, nothing but lust in his eyes.

You sat up in your chair, blinking slowly and trying to gather your scattered thoughts. You weren’t sure what had just happened, but you did know one thing. 

The next time you found yourself that close to Declan O’hara’s belt you would be undoing it. 

[julymusings]

Jason is the type of person to put on some shitty romance movie only for his date to fall asleep and for him to get strangely invested.

are you still watching?

i saddle up my horse and I ride into the city. i make a lot of noise 'cause the girls they are so pretty. riding up and down broadway on my old stud leroy, and the girls say...

or; 3 times Jason Todd gets hooked on your television choices [3.7k]

jason todd x fem!reader; this is so real...and so clever!!! i LOVE the concept. i did get a little carried away and lost the plot unforch...also I apologize for taking forever to respond. tw...klance mentioned💀 & suggestive but not explicit. and i do bash on voltron in pt2 a little but it's all in good fun🫶i did my time with them divider

i.

“Baby, I love you, but if you don’t pick something soon I’ll call Dick in here to entertain us with his backflips.”

“Oh, be quiet,” you huff. Though as you scroll, once again, through all the options on Netflix, you fear his threat may be serious.

You reach the bottom of the page, having found nothing. You peek at Jason from the corner of your eye and hover the cursor over the ‘Back to Top’ button.

“No.” He reaches to grab the laptop from you, but his injuries hinder his usual swiftness. You shriek in objection and roll away to the other side of the bed, computer held tight in your clutches.

“Babe.” He groans. He tries to reach across the bed to you, but his grasp falls short by mere centimeters as you frantically begin another scan of the site.

“I will find something, I promise!” You say. “Just one more minute!”

He rolls his eyes. “You said that ten minutes ago. And I’m the one who’s injured, shouldn’t I get to pick?”

You spare him a glance, pondering over his wrapped foot elevated on a pillow, and the bandages around his torso. His arm has fallen flat on his bed, having given up on its attempt to catch you. That alone should guilt you into saying yes; his childhood bed is just shy of too small for his adult self, so being unable to reach the other end speaks to the severity of his pain. And to add salt to the wound, you know he isn’t exactly fond of staying at his father’s house, but he is in no shape to recuperate alone.

“I would say yes, but you don’t know any good shows! All you watch is Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.”

He scoffs. “I thought you liked that show!”

You scoff back, imitating him. “I did. But a person can only stand so much of Guy Fieri talking with his mouth full.”

He quiets, probably searching for a rebuttal, but you can’t imagine he’ll find any. You use the opportunity to resume your search unimpeded. 

After a few minutes, you perk up. “Ooh, they added New Girl on Netflix!” You scoot back over on the bed to his side, satisfied with your choice.

“What is that?” Jason asks.

You whip your head to him. “You don’t know New Girl?”

He pushes a stray hair behind your ear, eyes narrowed. “Should I?”

Your eyes flit to the computer screen, then back to him, and you sigh. “No, I guess not.”

You’re about to press play on the first episode but stop yourself. “Do you want to choose? You’re already hurting enough, I don’t want to torture you with this too. Besides, I’ve seen it, like, a million times anyway.”

“No, it’s okay.” He turns the computer towards him and presses play. “I don’t need any of my siblings barging in and catching me enjoying Guy Fieri. I’d never hear the end of it.”

You titter at his remark and set your laptop in the middle of you, a little farther away so you don’t have to crane your neck to see the screen. He lifts his arm to drape it around you but struggles with raising it past shoulder level. You meet him halfway by ducking underneath his arm and settling it over your shoulders. He kisses the top of your head in thanks.

Leaning against his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing is too hypnotic for you to focus. Paired with the warmth of his skin, bare so as not to obstruct access to his wound dressings, you are quickly lulled to sleep.

It must be several hours later when movement against you disturbs you from sleep. The room is almost pitch black, save for the dim glow of the computer, still on and resting on your legs a few feet away. The air is thick with late-night silence, and fighting against the heaviness of your eyelids is so laborious that you have to use your hand to pry them open. Jason is squirming next to you, hand outstretched, low huffs of pain slipping from his mouth.

A shot of adrenaline courses through you and you stumble into action.

“What happened? What hurts?” The laptop tips off your legs and falls to the bed, landing on its side as you scramble to your knees and face him. “Should I get someone?”

“What? No, I— I’m fine, why?” He squints at you through the darkness.

“You—” Your throat catches and you take a deep, steadying breath. “It sounded like you were in pain.”

“No, honey, I’m fine. It’s okay. You can go back to sleep.” Jason takes your wrist and gently pulls you back into his side. You don’t budge.

“Then why were you moving?” You scan him for any signs of a worsening injury. Downplaying his own pain is not something you can put past him, unfortunately.

“I…” His eyes look past you for a quick second. He swallows. “I wasn’t,” he says, unconvincingly.

You narrow your eyes at him, then turn around to see what he is looking at, despite his (false) reassurances. Your laptop, still on its side, lies awake and open to the Netflix website. You pick it up to get a closer look at the screen. The player has gone dark, and overcast in white lettering; ‘New Girl: Are you still watching?’

You turn back to Jason, dumbfounded. “You risked hurting yourself…for this?”

Now adjusted to the darkness, you can see his cheeks tinged with pink. “No?”

“Jason.”

“You’re the one who put it on!”

You check the clock in the corner of the screen.

“It’s three AM, Jay. You need to sleep if you want your body to heal.” You argue.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” He defends. “I can’t sleep sitting up, and I need help lying down.” he fails to meet your eyes as he says this.

You cross your arms, tilting your face to catch his gaze. “And what am I doing here?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he mumbles.

You just stare. It takes fifteen seconds for him to break.

“Fine. I was enjoying the show. I wanted to keep watching. Happy?” He punctuates his statement with a shrug but groans through a clenched jaw, remembering the injuries to his upper body.

“Okay, just—” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “It’s too late for this. Can we please go to sleep?” You don’t wait for an answer, shutting the laptop and placing it on the bedside table.

He leans off the headboard so you can help him shift his body down the bed and lie flat, and you lie down next to him.

“Comfy?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Need anything?”

“No.”

“Okay. Goodnight,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jason says quietly.

You snuggle into his side. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but you can tell by his breathing pattern that he’s still awake. He whispers your name into the darkness, hoping you’re still awake.

“Yes, honey?” You answer.

There is a beat of silence. Then, “When do Nick and Jess get together?”

“Go to sleep.”

ii.

Jason leans against the kitchen counter behind him, hands in his pockets, as he watches the microwave dish spin in a slow circle. It whirs under the yellow lightbulb, the flat paper packet puffing up among raucous popping. With sixty seconds left to kill, he searches the cabinets for a large enough bowl to fit the family-size packet of popcorn, as well as the various add-ons you adore.

The first time you invited Jason over for a movie night, in the beginning stages of your relationship, he looked on in wonder as you combined the grocery store’s entire snack aisle into one salty, sugary, buttery abomination in a jumbo Hello Kitty bowl.

“How do you even come up with something like this?” He had asked, ripping open the bag of pretzels as you emptied the fresh batch of popcorn into the bowl.

“Wait!” You stopped him just before he could pour the pretzels in. “Sugary stuff first. While it’s still hot. Then it gets all melty and good.” You dumped an entire bag of mini marshmallows, caramels, and M&M’s in, and gave it a few stirs. “And to answer your question, I was in high school and experiencing intense munchies.”

You gave him the OK to add the pretzels, so he did. “I envy your dentist,” he said, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

Now, with plenty more movie nights under his belt, you trusted him enough to assemble your party mix on his own while you select something to watch.

The microwave beeps. As he rips open the popcorn bag, you yell from the living room.

“Hey, what about The Bourne Identity?” You call out. “Have you—? Wait.” You cut yourself off.

“What’s it about?” He yells back. You don’t answer. “Babe?” He calls again.

“Never mind! I’m gonna keep looking!”

He adds the sugary snacks first, stirring them until they melt, just how you like it. He’s tearing into the bag of pretzels when he hears you shriek.

He drops the bag and bolts to the living room, pretzels scattering all over the counter and floor.

“What happened?” His eyes bounce around the entire room, scanning for any threat.

He’s unsure what he expected to find, but it was a tad more perilous than you simply sitting on the couch, staring open-mouthed at the TV.

“Uh…nothing. Sorry.” Your face flushes. The remote is still raised and pointed at the screen.

“Vol…tron?” Jason reads from the title sequence that plays in the preview window. “Is this some kind of anime?”

“No…sort of, maybe,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. I'm just surprised to see it is all. I loved this show when I was younger.”

“Is it any good?” He asks.

You look to the side, thinking about it. You settle on: “Define good.”

His forehead wrinkles, mouth falling slightly open. “Did you…enjoy watching it?”

“Define enjoy.”

“Okay, forget I asked.” He sighs and goes back to the kitchen.

When he returns a few minutes later, floor pretzels in the trash and counter pretzels swept into the bowl, you’re already watching the first episode.

“This your choice?” He asks. You take the bowl in your lap and he settles down next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Definitely not. Just wanted to reminisce until you got back.” You frown at the bowl. “Where are all the pretzels?”

He chuckles. “That’s what you get for screaming. Dropped ‘em on the floor.”

You pout. “I didn’t scream. I was surprised. Now the ratio’s off, there’s not enough saltiness to balance the sweetness.”

“Poor baby,” he croons sarcastically. “Only getting a quarter bag of pretzels ‘stead of a full.”

You were going to switch the television to a movie you both liked, but you spent the entire first episode bickering about the important role each ingredient plays in, what you call, “The Party Mix Experience”. The next episode auto-played on its own, and you let it.

During the second episode, you and Jason were absorbed in a competition to see who could catch more flying popcorn pieces in their mouth (Jason), which then devolved into seeing who could dodge more popcorn kernels thrown to the face (also Jason).

By the beginning of episode three, you settled into meaningless chatter while paying half-hearted attention to the TV screen, and by the end, you were laid out on the couch, head in Jason’s lap, while you scrolled on your phone and he stroked your hair. You drifted to a light sleep, coaxed by his fingers scratching at your scalp. 

When you wake from your nap, there’s a blanket draped over you and Jason’s hand is still settled in your hair. You push yourself up to sit beside him, speaking through a yawn. “How long was I asleep?”

Jason adjusts the blanket so it covers both of you. “Um…I dunno. Three episodes, maybe.”

“You’re still watching,” you remark, as the end credits for episode six begin to roll.

He says nothing. You both stare as the auto-play timer for the next episode counts down. Next to the remote, his fingers twitch.

You purse your lips, suppressing a grin. “You know, there’s quite an online community for people who like this show.”

“Ha. Were you part of it?” He muses.

“Yup. And I deserve a medal of valor for my time in those trenches.” You kiss his cheek and stand up, stretching your arms. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly with weariness.

You turn toward the bedroom when a call of your name stops you.

“Is it just me, or is something goin’ on between the red guy and the blue guy?”

“Oh, honey,” you sigh. It’s loud and pitying. You bend down to cup his cheek and draw him in for a kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Babe!” He yells after you as you disappear into the bedroom. “You didn’t answer my question!”

iii.

It’s only a Hallmark movie, but with how he’s reacting, it might as well be six hours of paint drying. Jason is not eager to spend his night watching some boring, formulaic cliché, but it's late and you don't have anything better to do.

“That is absolutely not true,” he says when you counter his protests with this excuse.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning, Jay. Is there anything else to do, except sleep?” You rub your tired eyes. Both of you could use some sleep but, burrowed as you are under a pile of blankets, moving all the way from the couch to the bed seems impossible.

He leans in close, lips brushing against your ear. “I can think of a few things.”

His warm breath tickles your neck, and you feel a shiver despite the heat you’ve conserved in your little blanket burrito. The faintest of kisses is pressed behind your ear, and his eyes glint with familiar mischief when he pulls back.

You brush him off, rolling your eyes in amusement. “Do any of those things involve flannel-wearing farmer hunks or the True Meaning of Christmas?”

Turning back to the television, you take the remote from his hands, catching the tail end of a disgruntled mumble about how ‘I can buy a flannel…’

He grumbles a few more complaints during the movie’s first act (‘he’s not even that hunky’) before you scold him to silence. Once he’s quieted, and you settle more comfortably into him, your head is nestled securely in the crook of his shoulder with arms wrapped around his bicep. The warmth of him has you fighting against the tempting call of REM. Right around when the independent, successful, businesswoman protagonist discovers the handsome, flannel-clad man who helped repair her car is also the single father who runs an honest family business, you start to drift off, falling asleep amid thoughts of wearing plaid in the countryside.

You open your eyes to find yourself standing in a vast, open field. 

Thump. Thump.

It’s unclear where the sound is coming from, but a splash of red in your periphery stands out. You turn; there’s a barn off in the distance.

Thump.

Your legs carry you in its direction. Growing closer by the second, the thumping sound echoes louder in your ears. When you round the corner of the structure, the front doors are propped wide open by cement blocks, and bales of hay are stacked outside the doors. A large figure, whose back is to you, is lugging a bale by its straps. He hauls it onto his shoulder, and his shirtsleeves tighten around his thick arms. He brings it to the barn, tossing it onto a pile of more hay bales. It lands with that same thump.

When he turns around, it’s in slow motion.

The sleeves of his plaid flannel are rolled up his arms, exposing his large, veiny forearms. Under the flannel, he sports a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and work boots that give him an extra inch of height. His face and chest are shiny with sweat, and his shirt is soaked through. He holds a toothpick between gritted teeth.

It’s Jason. In a cowboy hat.

He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. Its dampness makes it stay slicked back rather than settling into its usual shape where little curls are always falling over his eyes. Then, he sees you. A slow, sly grin spreads across his face. He puts his hat back on and removes the toothpick so he can speak.

“Hey there, little lady,” he drawls lazily, the Gotham accent you’re so accustomed to replaced with a southern twang. It does something to you that you’re a little embarrassed to admit. He looks you up and down, pausing above your knee for a split second before continuing.

“Hi,” you say, averting your gaze from where it had zeroed in on a droplet of sweat running down his neck. Your face burns redder than his beautifully sun-kissed cheeks.

He chuckles. “You jus’ gonna stand there or you gonna lend a hand? Compost ain’t gonna turn itself.”

He easily hauls up another bale, and you follow him into the barn.

You watch as he shirks it onto the pile, then repeats with the remaining few bales. He seems to forget you’re standing there as he gets so absorbed in his work, expression tightening in focus. You lean on the wooden post behind you and soak it in; every sound, every flexed muscle, every display of firm strength has you feeling like the air has been punched out of you. He carries the final bale into the barn and his low grunt as he throws it off his shoulder has a swooning sigh escape you. It catches his attention.

Your chest tightens in embarrassment as he prowls closer. He leans over you, hand against the wooden post right above your head. With him this close, a smattering of freckles is visible over the bridge of his nose, likely due to all the sun exposure. Huffing and sweaty, his eyes drag down your face and stop at your mouth. He swallows hard, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

He lifts his free hand to trace over the thin strap of your top. His fingers ghost over the skin, barely touching. “This is pretty,” he says, voice low. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ all the way out here?”

And you just can’t help it anymore. You lurch up to him, desperate to close the space between you. You kiss him hard, and he kisses you back, his hand rising from your shoulder to grip the side of your neck. His thumb brushes your jaw, and your hands grip the material of his flannel, yanking it down to bring him even closer. You pull him against you so roughly that your head bumps the post behind you from the force. He smirks, teasing, into the kiss as his hand comes to cup the back of your head.

“Easy, sweetheart. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” After getting his fill from your lips, he slowly graces a path to your neck, kissing, licking, and nipping as he goes. His relaxed leisure perfectly juxtaposes your frantic hunger for him.

You grip his face and pull his mouth back to yours, kissing him with even more fervor. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down with little care for gentleness, and tug at the skin. He groans, and it rumbles deep in his throat. You soothe the spot with your tongue, and your eyes roll back into your head at the salty taste of his skin. As his tongue slides between your lips, he removes the hand that’s leaning onto the post and settles it on the skin of your thigh. It drags upward, feeling every inch of skin on his fingertips before disappearing under the hem of your skirt. At the same time, your hands slide down his body. His touch explores higher, and yours slips under his shirt to ground yourself on the hard skin of his abdomen, which has become slick with sweat.

The sound you make is debauched, coming from the deepest recesses of your stomach. He pulls back, wearing a cheeky smile. He opens his mouth to speak and says—

“Wait, what the fuck?”

You jerk awake. Jason is yelling.

“Why would you go with him?” He exclaims at the TV, and then turns to exclaim to you, “Why would she go with him?”

You stare at him, agape, trying to process your surroundings and asking yourself what just happened.

“Shit. Were you asleep?” Jason puts his outrage on hold.

You nod. “Yeah— yes.” Your voice comes out scratchy and hollow. “I was.”

“Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says. His eyebrows furrow. “Are you hot?”

“What?”

“You look warm.” He presses the back of his hand to your flushed neck. “Is it too many blankets?”

Though his hand is cool, you feel even warmer, the image of his hand gripping that same spot of your neck flashing through your mind.

“I’m…good,” you say. “I think I’ll go to bed.” You dig yourself out of the shell of blankets and stand, but he doesn’t follow.

“Oh.” Jason glances at the TV, which is still in a commercial break. “You— did you want me to come?”

You don’t know what to say.

“The, uh…” He runs a hand through his hair, and you have to stifle a gasp. “The guy from her successful city life tracked her down to the small town to get back together. She said yes.” Then he sighs, sounding genuinely distressed. “There’s no way they’d end it like that, right? He was awful to her!”

At this, you crack a smile. “Do you want to finish the movie, Jason?” A hint of satisfaction seeps into your tone.

He clears his throat. “…Maybe.”

You plop back down on the couch with a hum. He interlaces your fingers and kisses the back of your hand before redirecting his attention to the screen.

“Babe?” You ask.

“Hm?” He answers, not looking away from the movie.

“Do you own any flannels?”

SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOYYYYYYY

love when u leave messages and feedback it feeds my praise kink

for part one: cut to me sitting up in bed shrugging my shoulders over and over again to see which muscles it uses and if that coincides with the injuries i gave him to see if that action causing him pain makes sense (it was inconclusive so i made his injuries vague oopsie)

for part two: the bourne identity (2002) is a movie about a guy named jason who wakes up not knowing where or who he is and somehow has elite training in combat and surveillance, though he doesn't know where it's from. he runs around functioning on pure instinct to survive while getting bits of his memory back, remembering that whoever he worked for was cutthroat, expected him to obey no matter what, and forget the person he used to be before joining their mission. sound familiar?

for part three: cut to me genuinely tweaking while proofreading bc i let my friend read it and so rereading it, knowing that she read it, was so embarrassing. i was screaming into my pillow & it took 20 minutes to get through 2k words bc i had to keep taking breaks. not an exaggeration

If any of you saw me change the theme of my masterlist 5 times yesterday only to change it back to what it was before…no you didn’t

[shaylogic]

Joshua Colley on Monty: Adventures & Mysteries, Friendships, Joys & Fears, Thoughts on Niko, Crystal, and Jenny, and Facing the DBDA World Unburdened by Homophobia

[Transcription of my linked Joshua Colley Cameo]

Hello, Shay! It is me, Josh. Um, thank you so much for getting this Cameo. Thank you so much for supporting me. You said, "Hello <3" Hi! "What are some more mysteries and adventures you would've liked to see Monty go on with the detective agency friends? Which members would he get closer to over time?" Oh my gosh! Well, I think him and Niko would've been *crosses finger in the "tight" gesture* locked in. And I also think him and Charles probably would've been locked in. I know he was kind of--Monty was kind of a hater at the beginning. Um, but towards the end he--he turned it around. So I think they--they would definitely get along. Um, and I don't know, I think I would love to see--in my mind, in, like, another season, or y'know, like, Monty would be like, slowly--he would get turned back into a human, but then he would be slowly turning back into a crow until--like his end transformation would be like, him in human form but he had wings. So I think uncovering that kind of mystery could have been really fun. Um, and just more--just more adventures. I mean, those mysteries were so fun in season one. So, um, that's what I would've loved to explore, but we're just going to have to use our imaginations. Um, you said, "What were his thoughts on Niko, Crystal, and Jenny? Did the butcher shop creep him out after Esther's kitchen and blood magic?" Um, probably. *nods* I think he--I think he loves Niko. Um, I think he was just, like, vibing with Crystal. I think he was scared of Jenny, for sure. Um, but love all of the actors that played those parts. We had a grand old time. Um, "What are some of Monty's biggest joys and fears?" I think his biggest joys are probably just, I think he really liked the romance of it all. And like, just getting to explore his new human body was probably really fun. And his fears were probably his mom. *laughs* I would have to say his mother--and his heartbreak. Um, "It occurs to me that Edwin's life was heavily affected by homophobic society, but Monty was pretty isolated from other people and queer history/culture. How might he have adapted to going out into the dating world on his own?" Ooh, I don't know. I think--you know, in the world of "Dead Boy Detectives"--um, I kind of like the way. . . it wasn't that big a deal that Monty was a queer character. Um, I like the--how natural it felt, and how--um, yeah, I don't know, I just really loved that. And I think, um, I know that's really a big part of Edwin's. . . um, y'know, arc. And so I think it was nice for Monty to be kind of just confident and um, naive, in a way, to that. . . side of--of things, you know what I mean? And I think that's what made him so wonderful and. . .um, sweet. And lovable. I love Monty, and I'm so happy that you loved him, too. "Thanks so much for your work, and your answering these questions." Oh my gosh. Of course, anytime, Shay. Thank you so much for watching "Dead Boy Detectives". Thank you for supporting me again. Um, it seriously means the world. I hope I get to meet you one day, um, and answer more questions, and give you a big hug. But, until then, *gestures between his face and the phone* we're just gonna' have to do it through the screen. Um, but yes, thank you for all the love, um, and, I'll see you soon! *aggressively peck-kisses the phone camera* Bye! *sing-song cutie voice*

Loved this so much! And I still do love Monty <3

Joshua Colley is still on Cameo if you'd like to support him.

[dekariosclan]

Thinking about God Gale again…(especially since you made a great point about how he still loves you as a god! Which is so good and SO ANGSTY!) You may or may not be able to answer this, but I’d love to hear your thoughts: do you think God Gale would give up his godhood to be with a mortal Tav again? Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

As always: thank you for the wonderful meals about our boy 🙏 Dekarios the Divine bless you

OH DEAR GODS AN ANGSTY ASK

(ok, ok. I can do this. keep it together *hyperventilating into paper bag* just act normal goddamnit—)

Greetings fellow human! Hi! Thank you for this lovely ask, and rest assured that I am an extremely normal person who can totally handle emotional discussions about pixel people! NO I’M NOT CRYING—

Do I think God Gale would give up his godhood to be a mortal with Tav again?

Yes, I do—but only if he was able to be self-aware enough to realize that Godhood was not making him feel as happy or as content as Tav’s love did. Then his scholarly mind might finally begin to question what in the heavens he’d been thinking by giving that up just for ‘divine power’ which, as it turns out, really isn’t all that ‘divine.’

Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

The problem is that Godhood changes Gale (as it would change anyone) from a self-aware mortal to a divine being who can no longer relate to human experiences, including the passage of time. So while it’s confirmed that Gale still loves Tav, that love is now buried under weight of Gale’s hubris and godly ambitions, which would be very hard to overcome.

I know Raphael has the ending monologue where he predicts that Gale will eventually tear apart the pantheon, BUT, I personally don’t take that at face value as a guaranteed outcome. That speech reeks of sour grapes to me, and Raphael just being the smug bastard that we all know and love, so I think it’s less ‘Raphael’s Guaranteed Prediction’, and more ‘Raphael’s Fantasy Fanfiction’. Is it still possible? Sure, and I think if Gale did not romance Tav and did not get to experience their love then it is probably a more likely possibility.

But if Gale did romance Tav, then what I think is the tragic and more probable outcome is that Gale would eventually ‘wake up’ and realize that Godhood is not all that it’s cracked up to be, and decide to return home to Faerun and to Tav—but so much time has passed (and he did not realize it) that Tav and everyone he loved has now passed away.

AH GOD THE ANGST HURTS MY SPLEEN

But let’s focus on the GOOD outcome of him giving up Godhood and doing it in time to be with Tav again. It would be hard, and it would require Gale to REALLY overcome his insecurities and his pride, but I do think it is possible. Just looking at Gale’s ‘Godly Form’ you can see literal cracks in his exterior. He is not 100% unbreakable.

I still think at least a decent chunk of ‘human time’ would have to pass—we’ll say five years or so—before he would come to the realization.

And then one day (assuming Tav had not moved on and found new love) they would open their door, and—

“Hello,” Gale said, softly.

Tav blinked, for a moment trying to find their footing as their entire world spun out from under them.

“…Dekarios the Divine?” Tav asked, uncertainly. Gale’s clothes were simple robes, his skin no longer glowing with divine power. He looked almost as he had in Tav’s dreams, in all of their memories of when he’d still been a mortal.

Only this man’s eyes were much, much more tired. And filled with regret.

“No…I’m just plain old Gale Dekarios now. A most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.” He reached out, hesitantly, and took Tav’s hand in both of his.

For a moment they both stood silently, relishing the warmth of each other’s touch.

“Apologies. I hoped I’d be better at this.”

A smile was beginning to pull at Tav’s lips, even as their eyes filled. “At introductions?”

“At begging for your forgiveness.”

————— *One additional note: I simply must add that @lady-sapphyre wrote this excellent fic that tackles Gale giving up Godhood and I highly recommend it!

[hyperbali]

This seemed to go over well on r/dragonage, so I will also share it over here!

The question was:

Which DA Romances Do You Think Would Be Open To Having Kids?

DAO

Alistair - if he's got that Strong Theirin Bullshit going on, I think he's having a couple kids regardless of if it's with HoF or Anora. He's a great goofy dad but can't discipline worth a damn.

Leliana - Mmh... she would probably prefer to adopt rather than give birth, I think. Even then, she seems more like an auntie than a mother.

Morrigan - Did not ever foresee or want it for herself, but is a pretty decent mom by virtue of not wanting to be like Flemeth. Not a "cool" mom, but would let her kids have their independence.

Zevran - I can only ever see it being on accident, as beforehand he would have absolutely denied it - but once the possibility is in reach, he can't let the idea go. Ultimate Girl Dad.

DA2

Anders - Nope. Back in Awakening he liked his freedom without fetters too much, and over the course of 2 he gets too focused on becoming a martyr. Ain't ever gonna happen.

Fenris - Not something I think he actively wants, but is willing to take responsibility if it happens. He's the kind of stoic dad that it's hard to get an outward reaction from, but he's definitely protective of his kids.

Isabela - HAHA. That's adorable, kitten! (She probably just ends up kind of semi-adopting a galley kid, but in a way one would adopt a stray outdoor cat - leave it to its business.)

Merrill - Kind of taken aback by the idea, but secretly grows on it. I think she'd probably end up more of a mother figure to refugee elves, though.

DAI

Blackwall - Much as it's cute to think of him as a dad, I think what he did with the mercenary company is going to haunt him too much, even if he goes back to being Thom. He's content with the Inquisitor alone.

Cassandra - So long as she's not Divine, she would be willing to consider it - but would only want just one. Hard disciplinarian, but secretly a softie on some occasions.

Cullen - He's gonna end up having to build an entire farm community just to house all the impending kids and dogs. This man wants a BIG FAMILY.

Dorian - The thought of it is instantly repellant to him just on the basis of it having been expected of him for so long. He'd also be quietly terrified of ending up like his own father, hurting his own child while thinking he's doing his best for them... so no, definitely not happening.

Iron Bull - Hadn't ever really thought about it... ever, but if he's Tal-Vashoth, his heart melts when he sees any of his own babies for the first time. Any kid's got him wrapped around their little finger, and a whole host of aunts and uncles in the Chargers.

Josephine - She wants at least two, but preferably three - it simply wouldn't do for any of her children to grow up lonely. Hilariously, she's one of the strictest parents.

Sera - She sort of just wants to keep the Inquisitor all to herself for as long as she can, but if her wife really, really wanted it, she'd shrug and say why not? An alright mom, especially when they're still little, but I think she'd get really frustrated when they hit their teens.

Solas - He would like to say he doesn't wish it were possible, sometimes. He would like to say that.

DAV

Bellara - She would go nuts tracking down every single child-rearing research material she could and generally get herself anxious about it, but she'd turn out to be one of the best moms of the bunch.

Davrin - Willing to adopt after a while, especially once Assan starts getting older and leaving for longer periods of time as he gains his independence. That kiddo is definitely growing up with the best boy bird-cat-dog protector. Bit of a gruff dad, but he means well and can ease up with help.

Emmrich - Either way you shake it, probably not. Either he's content with Manfred and wouldn't want to chance leaving a young child behind when he eventually passes, or he just can't because he's a lich. For the latter, though, I think he'd be a great dadly mentor for the ages.

Harding - The ultimate in mommy cottagecore. TELL me you can't see her hiking through a forest with a bundled baby on her back, a kidlet skipping at her side, singing together as they head back home for the day. Adorable.

Lucanis - Incredibly unnerved by how much pressure is on him by being The Last Man Standing of the Dellamortes and what that means for their legacy, as well as being terrified over the possibility of what Spite could do to a child... but man, the thought haunts him. He wants to feel part of a close family again so bad. He would cry the first time he held his baby.

Neve - Probably not interested in having any of her own, but definitely ends up being kind of the boss-slash-denmother of a bunch of urchins in Docktown. She (lightly) bullies them into eating and sleeping, and they're her eyes from the shadows.

Taash - Their hang-ups over their mom are way too intense for that. Helping other Qunari and/or Tal-Vashoth adjust to a non-Qun life is about as far as that idea is gonna get.

[blamemma]

My personal fave is the hip grab at Honda thanks day after Max greeted Daniel and went to move around him bc that has lived in my head nonstop since

anon ur putting weird voodoo out into the world because i log on and this gifset is doing the rounds how delightful.

honda thanks day a little painful for me because we could have had it again this year and oh how glorious it would have been. but when you think about the fact it is confirmed by max verstappen himself that him and daniel flew together on air verstappen to honda thanks day and most definitely got touchy-feely on that plane together.....the neeeeeed still, after being in the air for probably 10+ hrs together, for max to be that close to daniel, to touch him still, whether it only be lingering touches is insaaaneeeeeee. it's love it's love it's love it's love. second gif so incredibly soft to me because the way daniel just beammmsss at max. only has eyes for one man. but just the tender way max moves around daniel, hand on his waist the whooleee time. manoeuvring daniel around and being like dan-yul i am here behind you be careful. it's just sooooo....it's everyday romance. it's the little things that you and your partner do to dance around each other every day. walking side by side at perfect pace and placing a hand on the small of their back as you squeeze past them. they're so in sync. they're so max and daniel. sickening.

[maodear]

Yapping about the contestants Guardian’s!

TW: Abuse,drugs,SA and etc.

So not many people talk about the Guardian’s in alien stage. I will be making opinions on each, but I will probably write more about the guardians when my art-book comes. Which would have all the lore I need.

Shine 🩷 (Mizi’s guardian

As we all should know, Shine is the most friendliest and definitely the most sweetest Gurdian. She loves humans and has curiosity to them. Mizi and Shien definitely had the most closest thing to a Mother and Daughter relationship out of everyone else.

Shine wanted nothing but good for Mizi, which is probably why she wanted her to be in Anakt Garden. Mizi had talent for singing and dancing. I am sure that if Shine knew that Mizi would have to suffer and go through pain. She would have not done it at all.

During round 5, Shine was watching. And you can tell how she felt looking at Mizi. She looks so sad :((

In all of Mizi’s birthday art or official art with Shine. She looked so happy in each one, always smiling or having fun. Shine loves Mizi like a normal person would love there pet. It seems messed up but Aliens see humans as Pets. But Shine still loves Mizi as her

Urak 🖕 ((Tills guardian

Urak is the Segyein of Till. And I will say he sucks the most. He treats Till horribly, in all ways. Mentally and physically. Urak has had other of his pets compete in Alien stage, but he says that Till is different from all of them because of his personality. He goes on saying that He only kept Till alive because of his Musical Talent he has. Urak believes that a Gurdian should learn right away what their pet’s strengths are to see if they are worthy.

In round 6 flashback Urak is forcing Till to sing “Oh my clematis” which Till refused to, which Urak throws a bottle at him, pinned him to a table. And when Till does break free, He attacked another segyein. Urak then once again assisted in restraining him. It’s said that Till was also SA in that flashback.

When Urak was asked about round 6 in an interview, Urak says that the only thing that matters is winning. It doesn’t matter how, if he wins it all worked. He also does expressed that it’s possible for Till to beat Luka, given how much Urak invested in him. (Which ages perfectly))

As much as I hate to admit. Even if Till is alive or not. I’m glad he lost because Urak has set another of his pets for Failure. And I hope he knows that, no matter how much he abuses, drugs or whatever shit he does. It won’t work because he will always set them in failure. Over and over again and it’s his fault.

Apparently Unsha and Urak have romance..??

Unsha🐁 ((Ivan’s guardian

Unsha is the Segyein of Ivan. Unsha isn’t physically abusive to Ivan but definitely is mentally. He has horrible has Urak since both Mentally and Physically hurt as much.

Unsha bought Ivan for his wife since it was her birthday. Ivan was choose because of his eyes which he found intriguing. Unsha also does mention that he had just begun to venture into the pet human entertainment business, so the timing was perfect for him. Which makes me believe that Ivan was Unsha’s first Pet.

If I’m correct In an interview, Ivan claims that Unsha is well known and him and Urak had nothing more then a business relationship. Saying they weren’t close in any way. Nothing more nothing less.

When asked for his thoughts on Ivan's impulsive actions during Round 6, Unsha replied saying he was disappointed that Ivan essentially forfeited the round, and he thought Ivan had a lot of potential even before Alien stage. He also admitted to being curious about what Ivan was thinking during around 6.

He closes the interview by saying he felt like he learned a lot being with Ivan, and it was worth the loss. He lastly that he doesn’t intend to participate in Alien stage again anytime soon.

Phan💀(Hyunas and Hyun-woo Gurdian

Phan is the Gurdian Segyein of Hyuna and Hyun-woo. Not much is shown or known of her since she was never brought up.

I did find that Heperu has an interesting to her similar to how Luka is obsessed with Hyuna.

((Not my picture! I don’t own the Art-book yet!)

Heperu🖕🖕🖕 (Lukas Gurdian

Heperu is the Gurdian Segyein of Luka. I might get blasted for this but I believe he’s the worst one yet. He claims that he had made Luka overcome fear, which makes me wonder what kind of things he had done to Luka. As we know Luka as went through a test with was monitoring his heart rate, and stoping his heart completely. Luka barley shows any kind of emotion. But he was crying in that art, Heperu disgust me.

Heperu ego is very high I can tell, because in a interview he claims that all of Lukas achievements and his talent is because of him. And he should thank him always for making him perfect. He always puts Luka very high, saying he will win no matter what.

In one of Lukas official art it shows Heperu shadow being in a position in which looks like kissing.?? And his hand was caressing him. Luka also looked quite young too which just gives me more creeps.

In the music Video all-in Luka kissed Hyuna, which I want to say. Was because of Heperu. Usually when someone was SA they see as a normal thing and do it to another person. That would explain why Luka kisses Hyuna.

Luka has been out through so much stuff because of Heperu and like everyone else has. Luka as very right to be the way he is. Because of Heperu and how cruel he is, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Till did become the same way.

Heperu also has a thing for Phan, having an attraction to Phan, just like Luka has an attraction to Hyuna??

Neigh🐛 (Sua’s Guardian

Not much is known from Neigh, but from what we know is that Niegh sees pets as nothing more than dolls. She dressed them all out usually the same. In a white dress like a doll.

In Neigh’s profile it’s shown that she has 0% interest in Sua. Probably because Sua is a copy of everyone else there. They are all the same as emotionless dolls. With no feelings or opinions.

——<3

Pretty sure that’s everyone? When my art-book arrives I will make any other post on the Guardians probably.

I may hate every Guardian except for Shine, but they hold a lot of meaning in the story which I appreciate.

Thanks for taking your time to read all of this <33

[amethystarachnid]

Thank you for writing my little Tony story 🤍

If it's not too much, can you write a second part for me please? Tony and reader finding out the baby's gender, Tony surprising her with a beautiful surprise proposal, maybe the other Anvegers can even help 🤍 the marriage and the baby's birth? 🤍🤍🤍 I lobe family man Tony too, it's so cute 🤍🤍🤍

Thank you!

ACCIDENTS HAPPEN - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: it's almost time for the baby's arrival so Tony decides that it's the perfect time to propose, as he drops to one knee you're sure you've found your happy ending,

ᯓ★ TW(s): childbirth

ᯓ★ I love family man Tony so much, matter of fact, I love every character seen as a family man I don't know why lol.

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

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

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

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The baby shower is shaping up to be a bigger event than you ever expected, though you probably should’ve seen it coming. With the Avengers involved, nothing is ever subtle. Tony, of course, is no help in scaling things back. In fact, he’s leaning into the chaos, throwing out extravagant suggestions like hiring live performers or setting up a drone fireworks display. You shoot most of his ideas down, insisting that this is a baby shower, not a red-carpet event.

Still, the excitement is infectious. Natasha takes charge of the planning—she’s surprisingly good at it, efficient and precise, down to the last detail. She ropes Bruce into helping, and the two of them become the only ones who know the baby’s gender. The rest of the team, including you and Tony, are kept in the dark, much to Tony’s annoyance.

“I don’t see why I can’t bribe Banner,” Tony grumbles one afternoon as he paces the kitchen. “He’s a terrible liar, anyway. A few drinks, a little sweet-talking, and he’d spill.”

“Good luck with that,” you reply with a smirk, stirring a cup of tea. “Natasha would kill him if he said anything. And you know she could.”

“Fair point,” Tony concedes, though he still looks annoyed. “Still, I’m calling it now: it’s a girl. She’s going to be brilliant, gorgeous, and way too smart for her own good. Just like her mom.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, really? Because I’m thinking it’s a boy. Stubborn, full of energy, and probably way too much like you.”

“Not possible,” he says with mock seriousness. “There’s only room for one of me in this world.”

Clint chimes in later that evening when the team gathers in the common room, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he munches on a bag of chips. “I’m betting on a boy,” he says, pointing a chip in your direction. “Gotta have someone to teach archery to. Plus, Stark with a son? That’s comedy gold.”

Thor, who’s been helping decorate the living room with streamers and balloons (many of which are Asgardian-sized), disagrees. “A daughter would be most fitting,” he declares, his voice booming. “She will have the strength of her father and the grace of her mother. A true warrior!”

Steve, predictably, tries to stay neutral. “I think you’ll be happy no matter what,” he says diplomatically, though there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at Tony. “That said, I wouldn’t mind seeing Stark try to handle a teenage girl someday.”

“God help us,” Natasha mutters with a smirk.

On the day of the baby shower, the compound is transformed. There are decorations everywhere—streamers in pastel pinks and blues, balloons shaped like baby bottles, and a banner reading Welcome, Baby Stark! stretched across the main wall. The table is laden with food, drinks, and an elaborate cake that looks too beautiful to eat. There’s even a pile of gifts in the corner, ranging from practical items like diapers and onesies to absurdly expensive gadgets Tony probably ordered himself.

Natasha and Bruce are the picture of calm, though you know they’ve been coordinating the big reveal for weeks. The two of them exchange knowing looks every time someone tries to guess the baby’s gender, clearly enjoying their role as gatekeepers of the secret.

The main event comes after everyone’s had their fill of food and games, including a hilariously chaotic round of diaper-changing races featuring Steve and Thor. Natasha steps forward, holding a small box wrapped in neutral-colored paper. She taps a spoon against her glass to get everyone’s attention.

“All right, everyone, it’s time,” she says, her tone firm but playful. “Y/N, Tony, come up here.”

You exchange a glance with Tony, who’s grinning like a kid at Christmas, and follow Natasha to the front of the room. Bruce joins her, carrying what looks like a smoke cannon with pastel-colored confetti inside.

“Are we sure Banner knows how to use that?” Tony whispers to you, earning a chuckle.

Natasha ignores him and gestures for Bruce to hand the cannon to Tony. “This is simple,” she says. “On the count of three, you twist it. The confetti will tell you the gender. Got it?”

“Got it,” Tony says, his grip tightening on the cannon. He looks at you, his grin softening into something tender. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Ready,” you reply, your heart pounding.

The room buzzes with anticipation as Natasha begins the countdown. “Three… two… one!”

Tony twists the cannon, and an explosion of pink confetti fills the air, raining down in a sparkling shower. The room erupts into cheers, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the cloud of pink with wide eyes.

“A girl,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly as the reality sinks in. “We’re having a girl.”

Tony turns to you, his grin splitting his face as he pulls you into his arms. “I told you,” he says, laughing as he spins you around. “I knew it!”

You’re laughing now too, tears streaming down your cheeks as the team gathers around, offering congratulations and playful jabs. Thor claps Tony on the back hard enough to make him stumble, while Clint pretends to look disappointed but quickly admits, “She’s probably gonna be cooler than a boy anyway.”

Natasha smirks, crossing her arms. “Told you it was worth the wait.”

As the excitement settles and the confetti begins to drift to the floor, Tony kneels in front of you, his hands resting gently on your growing belly. He looks up at you, his expression soft and filled with a kind of awe that takes your breath away.

“Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “It’s official now. You’ve got one hell of a team waiting for you out here. But you know what? Your mom and I? We’re the lucky ones.”

Your heart swells, and you reach down to run your fingers through his hair. In that moment, surrounded by your friends, your family, and the overwhelming love in Tony’s eyes, you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

The nursery preparation becomes a joint project, though you suspect Tony might be using it as an excuse to turn every design meeting into a spectacle. It starts with a simple conversation over breakfast about colors and furniture, but within hours, Tony’s drawing up blueprints for a room so high-tech it could double as a lab.

“Tony,” you say, leaning over his shoulder as he sketches a design for a mobile with holographic planets orbiting a glowing star. “This is a nursery, not the International Space Station.”

He turns to you with an exaggerated look of shock. “Why settle for ordinary when our baby can have the universe in her room? Imagine it—she’ll look up and be inspired every night.”

You can’t help but smile, even as you roll your eyes. “She’s not going to care about any of this for at least a few years. Let’s focus on a crib that doesn’t look like it’s from the future, okay?”

“Compromise,” he says with a smirk. “The crib will be traditional. The rest? Cutting-edge Stark tech.”

Choosing the color scheme turns into its own adventure. You veto pink almost immediately, wanting something more neutral and calming. “What about soft blues and grays?” you suggest one afternoon as you hold up a paint swatch.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Blues and grays? What is she, a baby or a Zen monk? Let’s go bold—deep purples, maybe some gold accents.”

“She’s a baby,” you remind him with a laugh. “She needs soothing, not a nightclub.”

Eventually, you settle on a compromise: a soft starry theme with muted blues, silvers, and whites, accented by golden stars and constellations painted along the walls. Tony insists on installing a custom ceiling projector that will display a moving galaxy, complete with twinkling stars and nebulae, for bedtime. You draw the line at installing an AI assistant in the room—at least for now.

The naming debate, however, proves to be even more challenging.

It starts casually one evening as you both lounge on the couch, flipping through baby name books. “Okay,” you say, running your finger down a list. “How about something classic? Elizabeth? Grace?”

Tony shakes his head. “Too stuffy. She’s going to be a Stark; she needs something unique. How about Nova?”

You pause, considering it. “Nova’s not bad,” you admit. “But it feels… incomplete.”

Tony grins. “Well, it’s lightyears ahead of Grace.”

You toss a pillow at him, laughing. “Fine. What else have you got, Mr. Genius?”

He leans back, pretending to think deeply. “Aurora. You know, like the northern lights.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Beautiful, but maybe a bit too Disney princess?”

The conversation goes on like this for days. Tony throws out names like Vega, Lyra, and Andromeda, while you try to steer him toward something more grounded. Neither of you seems willing to budge, though secretly you both enjoy the banter.

It’s during one of these discussions, late at night, that the perfect name finally emerges.

You’re lying in bed, the lights dimmed, and Tony’s hand rests protectively over your belly as he rambles about constellations. “Sirius is too much,” he says, more to himself than to you. “But it’d be cool if we could tie it back to something celestial. Something meaningful.”

You hum in agreement, half-asleep, when a thought strikes you. “Stella,” you say softly, testing the name on your tongue.

Tony freezes, then sits up slightly to look at you. “Stella,” he repeats, his voice thoughtful. “Latin for ‘star.’ Simple, beautiful, and meaningful. I love it.”

You smile, your heart warming at his reaction. “You really like it?”

“I don’t just like it,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s perfect. Stella Stark. Our little star.”

The next morning, you tell the rest of the team about the name, and everyone agrees it’s fitting. Thor, especially, is thrilled. “A name worthy of the cosmos!” he declares, raising his coffee mug like a goblet.

Even Clint, who usually teases Tony at every opportunity, nods in approval. “Stella’s solid,” he says. “Classy, but not pretentious. Good pick.”

As the nursery nears completion and Stella’s name starts appearing on everything—from personalized blankets to a tiny plaque above the crib—you find yourself growing more excited with each passing day. The walls are painted, the furniture is assembled, and Tony’s holographic mobile is, admittedly, a work of art.

One evening, as you both stand in the finished nursery, Tony wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “You know,” he murmurs, looking around at the room, “we might’ve gone a little overboard.”

“A little,” you agree, though you can’t help but smile.

“But she’s worth it,” he adds, his voice soft as he rests his forehead against yours.

“She is,” you whisper, your heart full.

As the galaxy projector casts a soft glow of stars across the ceiling, you know that Stella is already surrounded by more love and wonder than you ever could’ve imagined.

The shift in behavior starts subtly. At first, you think you’re imagining it—the way Natasha ends phone calls the moment you enter the room or how Clint suddenly has a reason to leave anytime you try to ask what he and Tony were whispering about. Even Steve, who’s usually a beacon of honesty, seems unusually tight-lipped when you catch him and Bruce exchanging cryptic looks during a mission debrief.

Tony, of course, is no better. If anything, he’s the most suspicious of them all. Normally, he shares every detail of his day with you, but lately, he’s been “working late” more often than usual. When you ask what he’s working on, his answers are evasive, laced with a nonchalance that you don’t buy for a second.

“Just tweaking some tech,” he says one evening, typing furiously on a holographic keyboard that he closes the moment you approach. “You know, the usual.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “The usual doesn’t usually involve secretive meetings with the entire team or you hiding your screens from me.”

Tony looks up, flashing you one of his patented grins. “Paranoid much, sweetheart? Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones.”

You roll your eyes, but you let it slide—for now.

The day of the proposal dawns like any other. You wake up to the sound of Tony humming softly beside you, his hand resting protectively over your belly, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him. At seven months pregnant, your body feels heavier and more tired than usual, but Tony’s been nothing if not attentive—sometimes to the point of hovering. Still, there’s something in his gaze this morning, a kind of nervous energy that makes you suspicious.

“What’s with the grin?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“No grin,” he says, though the corners of his mouth betray him. “Just appreciating how stunning you look, as always.”

“Mmhmm,” you murmur, giving him a skeptical look. “If you’re planning something, Stark, I’ll figure it out.”

He smirks, leaning down to kiss your belly. “No secrets here, baby girl. Daddy’s just got work to do today.”

That afternoon, Natasha convinces you to go out for some “girl time,” which in itself feels suspicious. Nat rarely suggests spa days or shopping trips, but she waves off your questions with a smirk.

“Can’t a friend treat her very pregnant bestie to some pampering?” she says, steering you toward the door. “Besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do while Tony tinkers in the lab.”

By the time you return to the compound, you’re relaxed but even more curious. The hallways are quiet—too quiet—and the usual buzz of activity is strangely absent. As Natasha leads you toward the common area, your suspicions grow.

“What’s going on?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. “Why do I feel like I’m walking into an ambush?”

Natasha just smirks, tugging you forward. “You’ll see.”

The doors to the common area slide open, and your breath catches. The room is transformed. Soft, glowing lights hang from the ceiling like stars, casting a warm, ethereal glow. A pathway lined with rose petals leads to the center of the room, where Tony stands in a perfectly tailored suit, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. Behind him, the rest of the Avengers stand in a loose semicircle, all wearing knowing smiles.

“Tony,” you whisper, your heart pounding as Natasha gives you a gentle nudge forward.

He takes a step toward you, his usual confidence tempered by the kind of vulnerability he rarely shows. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it’s like the rest of the world fades away.

“Y/N,” he begins, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “You’ve already given me so much. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and in just a couple of months, you’re going to give me the greatest gift of all—our daughter.”

You feel tears welling up as he continues, his hand reaching out to take yours. “But before she gets here, I want to give you something, too. I want to give you my heart, my name, my everything. I want us to be a family, officially, because… well, because I love you more than words can ever say.”

He drops to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a dazzling engagement ring. The diamond sparkles like a star, and you can’t help but gasp.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice soft but firm, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to speak. Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod, a laugh bubbling up through your emotions. “Yes,” you finally manage, your voice breaking. “Yes, Tony, of course!”

Tony’s grin is so wide it looks like it might split his face. He slides the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling slightly, and then he’s standing, pulling you into his arms. He holds you close, burying his face in your hair as you cling to him.

“You’re crying,” you murmur against his shoulder, your voice teasing despite your own tears.

“I am not,” he protests, though his voice wavers. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes glistening. “Okay, maybe a little. But don’t tell anyone, all right? I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You laugh, wiping at your own tears as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Behind you, the Avengers erupt into cheers and applause, Clint letting out a loud wolf whistle while Thor raises his hammer in triumph.

“About time!” Clint calls out, grinning from ear to ear.

Natasha smirks, her arms crossed. “Told you she’d say yes.”

Later that evening, as you sit together in the nursery, the engagement ring glittering on your finger and Tony’s hand resting over your belly, you can’t help but marvel at how far you’ve come. He looks at you like you’re his entire world, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like nothing could ever go wrong.

“You’re happy,” you say softly, studying his face.

Tony looks at you, his expression filled with a love so deep it takes your breath away. “I’m more than happy,” he says, his voice low and earnest. “You and Stella… you’re everything I never knew I needed.”

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder as the baby kicks gently against his hand. “We love you too,” you whisper, and in that moment, the universe feels just right.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day starts out completely normal—or at least as normal as life gets when you’re living with Tony Stark and the Avengers. You’re lounging on the couch, rubbing your enormous belly, when you feel the first contraction. It’s mild, more like a cramp than anything else, but enough to make you pause mid-sentence while you’re trying to convince Tony that the name Stella is not negotiable for her middle name.

“Everything okay?” Tony asks, looking up from where he’s fiddling with one of his many gadgets.

You nod, brushing it off. “Yeah, just… I think she’s practicing her escape plan.”

Tony chuckles. “Smart kid. Of course, she’s my daughter. She’s already planning ahead.”

You roll your eyes but let the moment pass. That is until another contraction hits—not unbearable, but definitely noticeable. You wince, shifting in your seat.

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Okay, that wasn’t just a practice run. What’s going on?”

You try to play it cool. “I think it might be starting, but it’s fine. First labors take a while. No need to—”

But before you can finish, Tony is up and moving like the house is on fire. “FRIDAY! Get the car! Clear a path! Call Banner! Wait, no, call Bruce AND the hospital! Get Nat to pack a bag—do we have a bag? Where’s the bag?”

You laugh despite yourself, waving a hand to calm him down. “Tony, relax. I’m not even sure it’s—”

Tony is already pacing, pulling his phone out to make calls. “Relax? RELAX? You’re about to bring an entire human into the world, and you want me to relax? You know who doesn’t relax? Tony Stark. I plan. I execute.” He points to your belly. “That tiny genius in there is counting on me!”

Another contraction interrupts your attempt to reassure him, this one stronger than before. You grip the edge of the couch, exhaling sharply. Tony’s eyes go wide, and his face pales.

“That’s it,” he declares. “We’re going now. FRIDAY, where’s the car?”

By the time you get to the hospital, Tony’s nerves are a full-blown circus. He’s barking orders at the nurses, double-checking every piece of equipment they wheel past, and generally acting like a man whose entire world is on the brink of chaos.

“Are those sterilized?” he asks one poor nurse, gesturing to a tray of instruments. “Because I know a guy who can check for microscopic contaminants.”

“Tony,” you groan from the wheelchair they’ve put you in. “Let the professionals do their job.”

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “Right. Sorry. Carry on.”

Once you’re settled in the delivery room, the contractions intensify, and so does Tony’s panic. He’s pacing again, alternating between squeezing your hand and apologizing for squeezing your hand too hard.

“Why is this taking so long?” he mutters, glancing at the clock. “Is there a way to, I don’t know, speed this up? I mean, we’ve got science, right? Lasers? Something?”

Your labor nurse gives him a patient smile. “Babies come on their own time, Mr. Stark.”

Tony points at her, dead serious. “I’ll have you know I’ve streamlined multi-billion-dollar manufacturing processes. I could totally streamline—”

“Tony!” you snap, gripping his hand through another contraction. “If you don’t stop talking about lasers and streamlining, I’m going to throw you out of this room.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says quickly, wincing as your grip tightens. “You’re doing great, by the way. Absolutely phenomenal. Ten out of ten.”

As the hours pass, Tony alternates between being overly helpful and hilariously unhelpful. At one point, he tries to "coach" you through the contractions, repeating advice he clearly Googled five minutes earlier.

“Breathe, babe,” he says, crouching next to you. “In through the nose, out through the—OW!” He yelps as you squeeze his hand, your patience wearing thin.

“I am breathing!” you growl. “You breathe!”

“Right, got it,” he says, shaking out his hand. “I’ll breathe quieter.”

By the time you’re ready to push, Tony looks like he’s aged ten years. His hair is a mess, his suit jacket is nowhere to be seen, and he’s nervously chewing on his bottom lip as if he’s the one doing all the hard work.

“Okay,” the doctor says. “It’s time to meet your baby. Dad, are you ready?”

Tony blinks, his face going pale again. “Wait, me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Just stay next to me and try not to pass out,” you deadpan, glaring at him through gritted teeth.

The actual delivery feels like a blur, but Tony’s reactions are crystal clear. As soon as Stella’s first cry fills the room, he freezes, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. The doctor places her on your chest, and you look down at the tiny, wriggling bundle of perfection. Tears stream down your face as you cradle her, overwhelmed with love.

Tony leans over, his hands hovering awkwardly as if he’s afraid to touch her. “She’s… she’s perfect,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

You glance up at him, smiling through your tears. “She is.”

He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as if trying to fight back tears of his own. “I’m not crying,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… dusty in here.”

“Sure, Tony,” you say, laughing softly. “Whatever you say.”

He finally reaches out, gently running a finger along Stella’s tiny hand. When she grips his finger, his face lights up like you’ve never seen before.

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “It’s me. Your dad. I’m the guy who’s going to spoil you rotten and probably embarrass you in front of all your friends someday.”

You laugh again, your heart so full it feels like it might burst. As Tony leans down to kiss your forehead, then Stella’s, you know this moment—this messy, chaotic, perfect moment—is one you’ll never forget.

The ride home is surprisingly smooth, considering Tony’s usual flair for drama. He insists on driving, despite your gentle protests, and the way he handles the car like it’s made of glass is almost endearing. Stella, snug in her carrier, sleeps through the whole thing, her tiny face scrunched in a way that makes your heart ache with love.

“Are you sure she’s breathing?” Tony asks for the third time, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, Tony,” you reply, trying not to laugh. “Babies sleep. It’s kind of their thing.”

He huffs, clearly unsatisfied. “Well, it’s nerve-wracking. I’m used to things that come with a manual, not ones that just… exist and rely on me not to screw up.”

“She’ll be fine,” you reassure him, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The Avengers are waiting when you arrive at the compound, their faces pressed against the windows like eager kids waiting for Santa. Even Clint, who normally pretends to be too cool for this sort of thing, looks uncharacteristically excited.

The moment you step inside, carrying Stella in her carrier, they descend like a swarm.

“Oh my God, she’s so tiny!” Natasha coos, her usual stoicism replaced with pure, unfiltered awe. “Look at her little hands.”

Steve grins, leaning down to get a better look. “She’s beautiful,” he says warmly, his voice tinged with a kind of reverence.

“She’s definitely got your nose, Y/N,” Bruce chimes in, smiling shyly. “Lucky kid.”

Even Clint, who’d joked for months about how he wasn’t going to fawn over “just another Stark,” can’t help but soften. “She’s pretty cute,” he admits, though his grin betrays his attempt at nonchalance.

“Cute?” Tony cuts in, feigning offense. “Try perfect. Absolute masterpiece. My finest work.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “She’s not one of your inventions, Tony.”

“No,” he agrees, his gaze softening as he looks at Stella. “She’s better.”

Thor, meanwhile, looms in the background, looking uncharacteristically nervous. You catch him shifting his weight from foot to foot, his brows furrowed as he watches the others coo and fuss over Stella.

“Thor,” you call gently, motioning him over. “Do you want to meet her?”

He hesitates, his usual bravado replaced with uncertainty. “I am unsure,” he admits, his voice low. “She is so small. What if I… break her?”

Tony snorts. “Relax, Point Break. She’s sturdier than she looks.”

Thor’s eyes widen. “Are you certain? For I have been told I am… exuberant in my movements.”

You can’t help but smile. “You’ll be fine. Just be gentle.”

Carefully, you unbuckle Stella from her carrier and place her in Thor’s massive hands. He cradles her like she’s made of glass, his expression a mix of awe and terror.

“She is… radiant,” he says after a moment, his voice soft. “A tiny warrior in the making.”

Stella squirms, letting out a small gurgle, and Thor immediately panics. “What is this sound? Is she displeased? Have I offended her?”

You laugh, taking her back before his nerves get the better of him. “She’s just waking up. You did great, Thor.”

He exhales in relief, looking visibly proud despite his earlier fear. “Then I shall strive to earn her favor, as a worthy uncle should.”

As the evening wears on, the Avengers take turns holding Stella, each of them surprisingly adept in their own way. Natasha rocks her gently, whispering something soft and sweet in Russian. Steve looks completely at ease, cradling her with a quiet confidence that makes you wonder if he’s done this before. Bruce hums softly, his gentle demeanor soothing Stella when she stirs.

Clint, ever the showman, gets her to grab his finger and immediately declares, “She likes me best. Sorry, everyone else.”

Even Thor eventually works up the courage to hold her again, this time with less fear and more awe.

Tony, meanwhile, hovers nearby, alternating between beaming with pride and trying to direct everyone on the proper way to hold her.

“Support her head,” he says for the fifth time, gesturing like he’s leading a workshop. “And don’t jostle her too much. She’s had a big day.”

“Tony,” you say, placing a hand on his arm to calm him. “She’s fine. Look at her—she’s surrounded by love.”

He glances around the room, taking in the sight of his teammates—his family—cooing and fussing over Stella. His shoulders relax, and a small, genuine smile tugs at his lips.

“Yeah,” he says softly, slipping an arm around your waist. “She’s going to be okay.”

You lean into him, watching as Stella lets out a tiny yawn, completely unfazed by the chaos around her. In this moment, surrounded by your unconventional but loving family, you know she’s going to grow up in the best possible way.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day is perfect—blue skies, warm sunlight, and the hum of excitement in the air as friends and family gather in the garden of the Stark estate for the wedding. You stand in the bridal suite, adjusting the lace sleeves of your gown, the soft fabric hugging your body comfortably enough to accommodate the postpartum changes you’re still embracing. In your arms, Stella squirms, her tiny hands tugging at the delicate veil trailing over your shoulder.

“Mommy’s trying to look fancy,” you murmur, kissing her chubby cheek. “Try not to drool too much on the dress, okay?”

Natasha appears in the doorway, dressed elegantly in a flowing gown but still managing to radiate her usual aura of cool confidence. “Ready to knock Tony off his feet?” she asks with a smirk.

You laugh nervously. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Natasha leans in to take a peek at Stella, who’s now gnawing on her fingers. “And what about you, little one? Ready to steal the show?”

“She’s been ready since birth,” you say, smiling fondly. “I just hope she doesn’t start screaming halfway down the aisle.”

The music starts—soft, romantic, and unmistakably orchestrated to perfection because, of course, Tony insisted on hiring the best string quartet money could buy. You step out into the aisle, holding Stella securely against your chest.

All eyes are on you, but your gaze locks instantly with Tony’s. He’s standing at the altar in a sharp tuxedo, his hair immaculately styled, but it’s his expression that floors you. His eyes are shining, his lips trembling slightly as he takes you in—his fiancée, his daughter in your arms, walking toward him like a vision straight out of his dreams.

When you’re halfway down the aisle, you catch him discreetly wiping at his eyes, though his attempt to play it cool is utterly transparent. You can’t help but smile.

“Crying already?” you tease softly as you reach the altar.

Tony’s voice cracks as he replies, “It’s allergies. Don’t get used to it.”

The officiant clears his throat, gesturing for everyone to sit. You pass Stella to Natasha, who holds her with practiced ease, but not before Tony sneaks a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Don’t cause too much trouble for Aunt Nat, okay?” he whispers.

The ceremony is beautiful, filled with laughter, a few tears, and vows that manage to be both heartfelt and hilariously Tony.

“I promise to always make you laugh,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “To build you anything you need—even if it’s just a better coffee maker. And I promise that no matter how big our family gets or how crazy life becomes, you’ll always be the center of my world.”

You smile, your heart full as you reply, “And I promise to keep you grounded—even when you’re flying. To stand by you, even when you’re being insufferable. And to love you, completely, for the genius, ridiculous, wonderful man that you are.”

The guests cheer when you kiss, and you can hear Clint shouting something about “finally making an honest man out of Stark,” but you’re too caught up in the moment to care. Tony’s hands are on your waist, his forehead pressed to yours as he whispers, “You’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Stark.”

The reception is lively, filled with laughter and champagne toasts, but the true star of the evening is Stella. At six months old, she’s the smallest guest but easily the most adored. She’s passed from one Avenger to the next, each of them taking turns cooing and playing with her. Steve lets her grab at his finger, grinning like a proud uncle. Bruce gently bounces her on his knee, her giggles drawing smiles from everyone around. Even Thor takes a turn, holding her aloft and declaring her “the mightiest of babes” before you quickly retrieve her, worried he might throw her like Mjolnir.

Despite the joy of the day, you and Tony find yourselves constantly glancing toward wherever Stella is. When you see her reaching for a cupcake, her tiny hand almost toppling the entire dessert tower, you excuse yourself mid-conversation to intercept.

“She’s got your appetite,” you say, placing Stella in her high chair and handing her a safer option—a teething biscuit.

“And your stubbornness,” Tony adds, crouching next to you to adjust her little headband. He kisses her forehead before looking up at you, his expression soft. “We did pretty good, didn’t we?”

You smile, leaning down to kiss him. “We did amazing.”

As the night winds down, you dance with Tony under the fairy lights, Stella dozing peacefully in Natasha’s arms nearby.

“Today was perfect,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder.

Tony pulls you closer, his hand warm on your back. “Because of you,” he murmurs. “You and Stella—you’re my whole world.”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love. “And you’re ours.”

The music swells, and for a moment, it’s just the three of you in your own little world, the rest of the party fading into the background.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Four years later

Four years later, the Stark household is as lively as ever. Stella, now a spirited and endlessly curious four-year-old, is the undeniable star of the compound. She’s sharp like her dad, determined like her mom, and, to everyone’s ongoing astonishment, utterly enamored with Thor.

“Where is Uncle Thor?” Stella demands one morning, her tiny hands on her hips in a perfect mimicry of your stance when you're irritated. “He promised we’d go find worms for the garden!”

You chuckle as you rest a hand on your growing belly. “Honey, Uncle Thor’s busy with work. He can’t always come running every time you call.”

“Why not?” she counters, pouting. “He’s the Mighty Thor. He’s not too busy for me.”

You shake your head, smiling. “You’ve got your daddy’s charm, you know that?”

Tony walks in just in time to hear the exchange, a cup of coffee in one hand and a slightly sour expression on his face. “I don’t know what he’s done to brainwash her, but I don’t like it,” he grumbles, leaning down to kiss your cheek before ruffling Stella’s hair.

“Uncle Thor is the best!” Stella declares, throwing her arms up dramatically. “He’s teaching me how to lift Mjolnir!”

“Is he now?” Tony says, narrowing his eyes. “I thought I told him no godly powers until after kindergarten.”

Later that afternoon, Thor arrives as promised, and Stella runs to greet him, her excitement so infectious even Tony can’t entirely suppress a grin. Thor sweeps her up, spinning her around like she weighs nothing.

“Ah, my favorite little warrior!” Thor booms. “Are you ready to brave the wilderness?”

“Yes!” Stella squeals, clutching onto him tightly. “Let’s go, Uncle Thor!”

“Wilderness?” Tony interjects, crossing his arms. “You mean my backyard?”

Thor just grins. “Every great adventure starts somewhere, Stark.”

As they head outside, you and Tony watch from the window, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders.

“I can’t believe she picked him as her favorite,” Tony says with mock despair. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“A magic hammer?” you suggest, smirking.

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Unbelievable. After all I’ve done for her.”

“Don’t worry,” you tease, patting your belly. “Maybe this little guy will be Team Dad.”

Tony’s face softens immediately, his free hand coming to rest gently on your growing bump. “He better be,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss it. “Otherwise, I’ll have to build another suit—Baby Iron Man Edition.”

Stella eventually drags Thor back inside, both of them covered in dirt but grinning like co-conspirators. Thor greets your belly with a reverent nod, placing a hand on it like he’s bestowing a blessing. “He stirs with strength already,” he declares. “A future warrior.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “He’s not even born yet, Point Break. Let’s not start handing out titles.”

Stella crawls onto the couch next to you, her small hands carefully pressing against your belly. “Mommy, when will the baby come out?”

“In a few months, sweetie,” you say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “He needs to grow a little more before he’s ready.”

“Will he be bigger than me?”

“Not at first,” Tony interjects, scooping her up onto his lap. “But don’t worry, Stella. You’ll always be the boss. It’s your job to teach him everything you know.”

Stella beams at that, puffing out her chest. “I’m going to be the best big sister ever.”

Tony chuckles, kissing her on the forehead. “I have no doubt.”

The rest of the day is filled with the usual chaos—Stella insisting she help with dinner (which mostly means spilling flour everywhere), Thor recounting dramatic tales of Asgardian battles to an enraptured audience, and Tony tinkering in his lab while occasionally glancing over to check on you.

Later that night, as you’re tucking Stella into bed, she clings to your arm, her wide eyes full of curiosity.

“Mommy?” she asks softly. “Do you think the baby will like Uncle Thor too?”

You laugh, stroking her hair. “Probably. But I think he’s going to like you the most.”

Her face lights up, and she snuggles deeper into her blankets. “Good. I’ll share Uncle Thor with him, but only a little.”

After kissing her goodnight, you return to the living room, where Tony is waiting on the couch, a glass of sparkling water in hand for you.

“Is she down?” he asks, pulling you gently into his side as you sink onto the cushions.

“Out like a light,” you reply, taking the glass. “She was asking if the baby will like Thor.”

Tony groans, tipping his head back dramatically. “That man is a menace.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “You know you love how happy he makes her.”

Tony’s arm tightens around you, his voice softening. “Yeah, I do. But you know what makes me happiest?”

“What?”

“This,” he says, resting his hand on your bump again. “All of us. Together.”

You smile, your heart full as you lean into him. “Me too.”

[1-have-no-idea]

how they kiss you: part one

Clone force 99:

character(s): Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, Crosshair, Echo

genre: fluff, romance, crack (kinda)

overview: this is literally just how the boys would kiss you. literally just that.

warning(s): Tech doesn’t know how to kiss, Crosshair is a freak, (jk, he just gets a lil spicy with it), mentioned of making out, slobber, Hunter’s a lil suave, sexual innuendos, references and implications of smut

Hunter:

-okay, but he’s such a gentleman while doing it?

-it depends on his mood really, and what the occasion is.

-Hunter doesn’t overdo kisses, but out of all of them, he is the one who probably will give the most (besides Wrecker, ahem.)

-He’ll kiss you when you wake up, when you make him food, right before he leaves, and when you go to bed.

-Unless he’s feeling a little… ahem. Y’know. A lil teasing that day

-His kisses are deep but short. Enough to make you blush but also leaving you yearning for more

-he’s a lil tease, but if you pout about it, he’ll just send you that boyish smile and give you another one

-”don’t gotta miss me that much, mesh’la,”

-yeah. That’s him..

-Hunter probably has somewhat chapped lips, (as most clones), but not to the point where they scrape yours. And they’re also somewhat thin (like most clones), so basically, they’re not that different from a regs

-except they’re a bit plushier, if that makes sense

-his stubble WILL scratch against you

-he’ll rarely give tongue unless he’s feeling a little freaky and has the intention on, well, y’know.

-”spread those legs, mesh’la,”

-yeah, y’know, the fun stuff

-so yeah.

-kisses are like a 10/10, would recommend

———————————————————————————

Tech:

-SO AWKWARD.

-sorry Tech lovers, but like. We’re talking about the Tech, the one who can’t understand or take hints whatsoever…

-a NERD.

-he’s such a virgin, smh

-but like… a subtle virgin, ykwim?

-you wouldn’t know he was a virgin. Like, you literally wouldn’t.

-until you kissed him and he expressed his shock and stated that this was an ‘interesting development.’

-”....fascinating. Do it again. This time I’d like to record the acceleration of our heart rates and the texture of your lips against mine. Allow me to retrieve my datapad–”

-yeah. Like. It’s either the most hottest thing hearing him talk all smart after the kiss or the most ‘dude, are you serious’ kinda thing.

-Tech is not really a kisser, but a pecker

-they’re not frequent, but they’re enough for you to still kinda expect them, yk?

-his kisses are chaste and respectful. Never awkward, but usually quick.

-such as, a kiss on your knuckles or your temple or hair. Tech doesn’t go for lips, but he doesn’t mind if you initiate those to him and he will depending on the mood you or him are in

-i actually like to think his lips are actually kinda soft. Not like, baby smooth, but soft.

-i don’t think he gets needy for them, but there are times where he really just wants to feel your lips on him

-he loves the texture and the warmth.

-he won’t really ask though.

-it’s more for ‘experimentation’, in his words.

-”I’d like to explore this further with you. This time, can you kiss me a little bit firmer?”

-7/10 in the beginning, but Tech learns quickly and is extremely observant, and soon learns exactly where to nip, suck, bite, lick, and kiss.

-just give him a little more lessons

-for science, of course

———————————————————————————

Wrecker:

-okay guys

-he is NOT as innocent as he looks, i’m sorry

-respectful, yeah. Gentle, yeah.

-but INNOCENT?? Yeah, no.

-have you seen that deleted scene in clone wars with the Padme art?

-”Yeah, she could negotiate with me any time!”

-erm. Guys.

-and that translates in his kisses.

-he’s not shy whatsoever.

-gentle, of course, but you want him to be rough?

-oh, he’ll be rough.

-okay, let me backtrack, so when y’all are still new to a relationship and all that, he’s nervous. Holds you like glass and kisses you like he’s unsure if he even wants to.

-he was scared. He knows he’s a big guy, and doesn’t wanna hurt you.

-but once you get to that point in your relationship with a lotta reassurance and carefulness and praise and teasing

-my man is most definitely a tank

-and packing one too– ahem.

-he kisses a lot. Anywhere. Kinda worships you with his mouth, lips, tongue and all. Take that as you will.

-his kisses are passionate. Deep. Like his love for you, but they can also be gentle. Soft.

-Large hands will come and cradle you or hold your hips in place, he loves picking you up when you kiss.

-his lips are different, they’re PLUSH. Plump, and bigger than his other brothers. Fully cushioned. It’s nice.

-”Hey! One more, baby! Miss ya already!”

-he’s actually a good kisser. Like, you’ll be starstruck

-and he’ll be giggling

-the type to be giggling and grinning into the kiss

———————————————————————————

Crosshair:

-holy. Where do I even start with him.

-he’s smooth. Annoyingly so.

-the type to kiss you to shut you up

-out of all his brothers, I feel like he gets hit on the most when he’s out and about.

-it’s just cuz he’s ‘mysterious’

-he’s actually never really interested, unless he’s feeling rather frisky and pent up

-when he’s not being angsty and emo, he’s actually low-key kinda flirty with you whenever moments like that actually do pop up.

-and you better believe, all his kisses include tongue.

-you go in for a kiss, that’s you asking for a makeout session, and if he’s feeling mischievous, he’ll tear away and walk away leaving you a breathless and yearning and hot and bothered mess.

-”So desperate for me and all I did was kiss you.”

-BULL. That’s bull. He knew what he was doing.

-there are moments where he’ll be gentle with you though. Usually when he feels vulnerable.

-others, they’re rough yanks to him. Hand on the back of your neck and slamming his lips on yours.

-tongue swiping over your bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, soothing it with his tongue again before licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue once or twice.

-messy and they lead to a messy bed afterwards too.

-most definitely a lil freaky

-and guess what? Despite having one of the thinnest lips, they’re baby smooth.

-wanna know why? Skincare.

-he’s obsessed with it. What a princess.

-yet he still looks sixty.

-not down below.

-definitely doesn’t feel like one.

-anywho, that’s not the topic, so he has really soft lips and knows how to use them

-WILL smirk into the kiss

-cocky bastard

-100% recommend if you wanna get laid.

-”Careful what you’re asking for, doll.”

———————————————————————————

Echo:

-my sweet baby

-i love him sm

-he’s shy in the beginning, but so gentlemanly

-his kisses really express his love for you. Every emotion, every feeling is poured out into that kiss.

-whether it be I love you, I missed you, I’ll be back, be safe, don’t be back too late,

-yeah.

-they’re deep and firm and gentle, but not timid

-he is NOT shy of his love for you

-one arm around your waist, his bionic hand cradling the back of your head, it’s so sweet

-he loves cupping your face with his flesh hand while kissing you

-he just loves the contact

-kisses are frequent, but not too

-he loves dancing with you and dipping you into a kiss.

-cliche, but Echo is an old-school romantic, believe it or not

-swaying around you, spinning you with a warm smile on his face, pale brown orbs glowing gold as he looked at you,

-”you’re beautiful,”

-and it’s a soft-spoken promise as he presses his lips to yours

-he does have cold lips, but it’s a nice feeling against your warm ones

-please pepper his cold skin with kisses, he’ll be a puddle for you and feel so loved, (and warmed up.)

-anywho, he doesn’t have that much experience, so teach him, because he’d love to learn.

-all in all, he just loves you so much–

-so sweet

-”Love you, angel. C’mere, lemme give you another one.”

[bellametre]

Some Ultimate G/T Favourites

I've wanted to do this ever since I saw @gullivertravelstowonderland post the idea. I added a category or two because there's some media I just had to include, but here we go:

Favourite Tiny: Spiller

This shy, wild, golden-hearted dreamboat catalyzed everything for me. I became utterly smitten at the age of nine and went on to watch him in every Borrowers adaptation ever—an obsession that’s still going strong.

Favourite Giant: Optimus Prime

I was so jealous of Shia LaBeouf back in 2007. I don’t even have the toys, but I’ve consumed nearly every comic, show, and movie Optimus Fine appears in. When June Darby in Transformers: Prime says, “And I wore heels and everything”? Same, girl.

Favourite G/T Movie: Ultraman: Rising

If you haven’t seen this movie yet, why are you still here? Go watch it. It’s about a snarky, size-changing superhero who has to look after a baby kaiju. If you need more convincing, just look up a picture of Kenji Sato.

Favourite G/T Show: George Shrinks

Fellow Canadians know this was the show back in the day. Banging intro, unique plot, confident little genius of a protagonist—seriously, this kid made me covet being four inches tall like nobody else. And no, his Zoopercar was not cheating.

Favourite G/T Book: Valiant

Sarah McGuire delivers here: a host of giants, a kick-butt heroine, a villain with a superiority complex, and an attractive lord who gets injured so badly that one of the giants has to “cradle him like an infant” to carry him to safety. Good stuff.

Favourite G/T Manga: Godaigo Daigo

For yet another story about giant heroes protecting cities from monsters, this was a pleasant surprise. Kounosuke showcases all kinds of G/T relationships—coworkers, friends, parents, and romance—and every arc absolutely slaps.

Favourite G/T Webcomic: Piper

The fact that Dr5spectre has been on hiatus for almost two years now is one of the greatest tragedies of our time. But I beg you—check out this comic, especially the AUs. The Goblin of Dornenholtz is so soul-filling it hurts.

Favourite G/T Song: Touchy Feely Fool

It definitely has to be AJR. Not only did I grin like a maniac when I watched the music video, but I like to think the lyrics are about a tiny person who wishes they didn’t have feelings for a giant anymore but simply can’t help themselves.

Favourite G/T Magical World: Roshar *Art by Rocío Sogas

This is probably one that isn’t very well known in the community, but Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive is full of great G/T moments, particularly between the main character Kaladin and his companion Syl, a shapeshifting spren.

Character I Would Like to Shrink/Grow: Loki (MCU) *Art by keiidakamya

Guys, we were robbed. He’s literally part Frost Giant! Yes, we got a taste of it in What If…?, but imagine how the movies could have gone if this had been a form he took when he gained or lost control of himself. Robbed, I tell you.

· · ·

Ahh this was so much fun! I hope some of you feel inspired to try this; I think it would be a great way to find more quality (or not-so-quality) G/T content. There’s so little of it out there, after all.

[cynthiav06]

Annabeth stans and Percabeth shippers are talking about how ooc Annabeth is in WOTTG with her thinking Percy is stupid as if she hasn't constantly made fun of Percy's intelligence since the very beginning. As if she doesn't do it in every book, multiple times. Rick's characterization of Annabeth isn't changing, people are finally just growing up and realizing their fave ship when they were 12 isn't healthy. But instead of actually acknowledging that it's a bad ship they just blame the author.

Warnings: This is going to be a rant; bear with me. People from the "take everything as a personal offense" group stop reading. Will give us both the luxury of a peaceful mind.

It's easier to blame Rick, I think, given his series of shit decisions. The Wrath of a Triple Goddess is a complete abomination, and so is Chalice of the Gods in many ways. But at least it has helped readers understand the glaring flaws of Percabeth as a ship. How Percy's character is butchered to hype up Annabeth.

And I am completely exhausted of trying to get any of them to think rationally and in an unbiased manner. I can't make a willfully blind individual see sense after all.

But yeah, Annabeth has many, and I mean many character flaws throughout the series. The number of times I have made a post on Annabeth's flaws or even why Percabeth is incompatible.... At this point, I believe open-minded and careful readers are going to see and make their own conclusions, and the blind shippers will keep doing their own thing. This , I think, was my most recent post and will probably be one of my last ones on a similar topic. Unless I get newer asks that have some different viewpoints that I can actually explore cause, all has been said so far, I think.

I had a feeling that things would get better as they got older, more mature, you know, an Annabeth character arc of some sort. Maybe exploring the positive and negative nuances of Percabeth or even Percy's suicidal thoughts, non existent self esteem and how Annabeth has been unknowingly feeding into those.

She is one of the more iconic characters to people even outside the fandom. One from a very, very , and exclusive pool of actually strong female characters and the way her character is devolving isn't helping anything.

-------------------------------------------------------

All of Riordan's characters have such high potential, and the amount of plots he could explore is staggering, and yet he still dishes out the same generic plot again and again. He is in it for the money now, has been for a while, and so there's no hope there.

This might be a very hot take, but I think romance ruined the series. Rick kept slapping romantic relationships on every character as if that would suddenly make things better. Give them a relationship rather than explore their trauma. I guess it's the easier of the two.

But seriously, Caleo? Jiper? Solangelo ? (I can see the hate comments already). Whatever he was doing with Reyna, but at least she wasn't completely butchered.

Rick's problem is that he keeps giving more importance to romantic relationships and makes that the entire personality of a character.

He butchered Percy, even Jason at times, Leo bloody Valdez and Nico more prominently.

The way Percy and Nico's very deep and volatile bond and heavily dynamic relationship was butchered and distorted to feed into Solangelo and Percabeth, and I can't possibly understate how highly that's been going on.

Then Luke and Thalia's relationship was completely butchered for no absolute reason. I have no idea why. They were in love or at least had romantic feelings for each other, and Thalia just woke up and wanted to kill him? He literally gave all the angst to Annabeth even though Thalia had known him longer, and they had a more nuanced bond.

Jason's relationship with Camp Jupiter individuals was completely scrapped, his and Reyna's dynamic completely watered down, or even his and Leo's great friendship discarded all for Jiper or whatever else was shoved at him.

-------------------------------------------------------

As opposed to this whole shit show, I loved the relationships in the Magnus Chase series and Kane Chronicles. That was good stuff. Both character relationships and romantic ones even though I am pretty sure he got a lot of diverse representation wrong or so I have read recently.

Then there's the stupid, blind, bigot part of the fandom that just can't help themselves. I mean dumb Percy takes, Annabeth stans ruining Percy's character arcs and overinflating Annabeth's character, which in turn made Rick do the same.Then the boring Jason thing? What the hell was that? It's like everyone missed the point of why Jason is the way he is. I am going to make a post on that soon, but seriously, the shit that's been going on.

Then the shippers. Solangelo stans and Percabeth stans. They have single handedly ruined the ships for me with their distorted ideas of character dynamics. And their blatant and brutal hate against other Percy or Nico ships is just ridiculous and heavily toxic.

It's a fandom, not a monopoly. Everyone can have their own little thing as long as you don't meddle in someone else's own thing. Let everyone enjoy their own thing.

And for all our sakes, at this point, just pick your own version of canon. Choose which books to stop at. Trust me, it's less frustrating that way.

[choslut]

I saw another anon do this with another writer it's like fmk but different scenarios with other characters like...

going swimming in a lake way deep into the forest during the winter

big scary rollercoaster ride

watching a corny romance movie and trying not to laugh

characters are....

Yuki

Choso

n Sukuna‼️‼️

not gonna lie i had to read this a couple of times to get it but i finally switched my brain on and this feels like a life or death question

big scary rollercoaster ride : sukuna most definitely. i know choso would 100% cry or piss his pants, and i got other plans for yuki… but i would do the rollercoaster ride just to see how far his so-called ‘nonchalance’ goes. sukuna is the kinda guy to say “oh that’s not scary” and then come off with silent tears flooding his cheeks, still insisting it’s “not scary”. what a stupid brute i love him

watching a corny romance and trying not to laugh : choso. idk the words ‘corny’ and ‘choso’ are married in my mind, and you would probably spend more time trying not to laugh at his reactions than trying not to laugh at the movie. he doesn’t know that the movie is supposed to be an exaggeration, and when he keeps asking questions like “does this really happen?”, you say yes in the most serious tone and his look of disgust would probably have you stifling another bout of laughter.

going swimming in a lake way too deep into the forest in winter : yuki. butt naked, no exceptions. i just… i just feel like it would be so whimsical and magical and intimate and just wow, like she already is beautiful but seeing her swimming in a freezing lake like it’s her home just warms my heart in a way it can’t be warmed. it’s giving playing mermaid games or splashing each other with water, screams echoing throughout the trees… (and for female readers) i feel like this would be the perfect scene of sapphic love. i just love it so much

thank you so much for the question !! it feels nice to interact with an anon like this, and i definitely encourage more !!!

[carrie-tate]

Okay okay, I see at least one person is interested in my new OC (which is almost like as the previous one lol... But they are definitely from different timelines I would say) so.

(forgive me Percy/Oliver or Percy/Penny or Percy/Audrey fans)

Please love and favor

Riley Ellis Chandler

Muggle-born witch (I haven't figured it out yet, but probably her parents are either office workers, or one of them is an elementary school teacher), Hufflepuff student (because I love Hufflepuff and probably all my characters will be from this house)

Speaking about her, she has a rather boring character, a stereotypical girlish nature, I would say. Feminine, polite, diligent. She needs reading glasses because she (like probably many Muggle-borns after learning about the world of magic) read a lot. And that's why she's well-read (Although she is reserved and does not try to answer all the questions in class, often doubting whether she remembers this or that fact correctly) and her eyesight is ruined, lol

She was a member of Flitwick's Toad Choir in her first and second years. She has a pet toad named Bean... She later realized that music was not her thing and became more interested in the main subjects like Charms and Transfiguration.

In her fourth year, she started a reading group within the confines of her house, reading extracurricular books to those who wanted to read and helping younger students with their homework. In fact, because of such efforts to try to support newcomers in the first and upper years, she received the Head Girl badge in her fifth year.

Despite getting good grades in her theoretical classes, she is terrible at anything that requires practice. That is, flying lessons, Divination (though she still likes the atmosphere of Astronomy Tower), or care of magical creatures are difficult for her.

She most likely did not participate in the events of Hogwarts' defense, but kept in touch with the students from her house whenever possible to know about their safety.

Maybe after Hogwarts, in the future, she tried to work in the Ministry of Magic. But I see her eventually becoming a Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts.

The few sketches I have with her and a little bit about her and Percy:

She entered in the same year as Percy Weasley, so they are about the same age (maybe Riley is a couple of months younger than him), But I see it this way: they met somewhere in their third year, perhaps accidentally paired up in a joint Gryffindor and Hufflepuff class.

But most likely their communication would become closer in the fifth year, since I see that Riley is also a prefect. (And I said that they are very similar to my previous hp oc, Tracey. But I will write about this at the end) So it's obvious that they would see each other more often simply because of their duties. Well, and somewhere by the end of the fifth year they would most likely have... Just gotten together, I think

Most likely, in the fifth year, Percy will appreciate Riley's activity with her reading club, and eventually this small company will be replenished with a couple of students from Gryffindor.

So you understand, I see them as a very calm couple of two responsible people. Where Percy has a lot of responsibility and is more often nervous (because he is trying to show authority), and Riley is more calm, who sometimes lets the students get away with minor misfires, trying to evaluate the situation not only from the point of view of the rules, but also from the point of view of personal opinions

I think it was Percy's initiative that their relationship was hidden at first (in the style of hiding in empty classrooms to just talk about the day, hold hands and be alone. That's innocent teenage romance... There's already a headcanon that despite Riley's short curly mullet, Percy would claim it could still be braided. And since he still has a little sister, he can do it. He probably finds stress relief in playing with his girlfriend's hair... Ahem), so that his brothers wouldn't find a reason to joke about them. I think it was also revealed in the end because of Ginny. Or Ron.

Of course, eventually this will also get back to the twins, and until graduation, Percy and Riley will be making sweet little remarks about their sugary couple. This irritates Percy, but Riley finds it funny.

Riley probably has a generally non-confrontational relationship with Percy's family (I'm sure the twins asked something along the lines of "why would such a cutie choose a stale cracker like you, Perce?") So I think the moment Percy distanced himself from his family, he distanced himself from her as well.

But after the war for Hogwarts, after everything they had experienced and rethought, they would have been able to gradually come together again. Percy would have tried to get her a job at the Ministry, but in the end it just... Didn't work out. Although I think he would support her in her professorial work, it seems that a long-distance relationship (due to the fact that Hogwarts professors, as I understand it, live on the school grounds the entire school year) suits them.

A compilation of headcanons about them that I discussed with @pockysfluffiez

Speaking of my previous OC Tracy Thorens. I think she's more of a Cursed Child years old than a Harry Potter years old, and maybe she could technically be related to Riley. (Perhaps she could have had a sibling, or cousin, who didn't have magical powers, took a new last name, started a family, and Thorens could have been... Riley's niece, or cousin niece)

[dolores-slay]

I fully own up to the fact that I would like Solas if everything about him was the exact same except he was bi. One of those cases where not being bi actually makes no lore sense and takes away from a character sorry not sorry.

[francy-sketches]

I ❤️ thinking about joffreymargaery failmarriage but it’s almost always w the show version *crowd boos* bc it’s more fun to imagine adults in a toxic relationship like book version is just

[theposhperyton]

All evidence suggests yes