Not today Justin
d e v o n
Xuebing Du
Show & Tell
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
if i look back, i am lost
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Claire Keane
RMH
shark vs the universe
Keni
No title available
One Nice Bug Per Day
taylor price
almost home
Sade Olutola
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
izzy's playlists!
seen from Singapore
seen from Venezuela
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Romania
seen from Bolivia
seen from Singapore
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from United States
@irondadbingo
help
this event became so much larger than I ever thought it would get. When requests for custom made bingo cards exceeded 200 I was very overwhelmed. However, I still want to do something with this account. Did you like the themed cards? Should I have challenges instead? What if I opened up submissions for followers to submit bingo cards for the community to use? Thank you!
What are all the bingo cards you have up that aren’t custom made?
I don’t have many yet, but here is the tag where you can find them.
Tony deserves a drink. He definitely wants one. After all, he did everything he was supposed to do. Hold the speech that explained the science behind Stark Industries latest innovative weapon, wasn’t too snarky (Ms. Potts will definitely be proud of him, for sure, he can already see her iconic eyeroll) and had been on his best behavior – until now. Now, he can have a drink – or five –, listen to a few of the speeches that actually interest him on this conference, and mingle with the other scientists, maybe finding a companion for the night.
He strolls down the empty halls, most of the other attendees still sitting in on other talks and demonstrations. The hotel bar won’t open for another hour, but the minibar in his room is well stocked (or maybe re-stocked), and he doesn’t mind a quiet minute to organize his hectic thoughts. As long as it’s just a minute and not longer.
But the halls aren’t as empty as he has assumed. A few feet in front to the elevator that would take him to his suite, stands a woman, rummaging through a briefcase with an infectious kind of panic. Next to her on a couch that is clearly just a decoration and not an actually invitation to sit down is something what looks like a baby car seat. For a second, he wonders if he can just sneak by, but then he hears her swearing quietly, followed by an immediate apology to the car seat, which is followed by more self-muttering that he didn’t hear her, and Tony is kind of intrigued.
“Do you need some help?” he asks. The woman whirls around, and he smiles. “Hi, uh-“ He quickly checks the badge around her neck, “Mary Parker. You seem to be in a bit of a pickle.”
“Yeah, uh, hi,” she answers, blinking a few times. Tony isn’t wearing the badge, but people always recognize him anyway. Mary shakes her head quickly, and reaches back into her briefcase. “I just-… I’m supposed to hand in my thesis – well, not my thesis, it’s kinda a group effort, and my colleagues will kill me if I mess this up, but it’s not in here and I know I put in here-“
“Okay, okay,” Tony quickly says, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, hoping it will calm down her panic. It doesn’t. If anything, her panic jumps over to him. “Just- Take a deep breath, okay? It’s no good if you pass out from hyperventilating or something.” Mary simply ignores his suggestions and is all but short of dumping everything in her briefcase on the floor. “Please, let me help. I can-“ Tony is about to offer to help look, maybe make some calls, or throw some money at however is waiting for the thesis.
Mary Parker has other ideas. “Can you just watch him for a second?” She nods her head to the car seat. “He’s asleep and I’ll be back in under five minutes, I promise.”
“I, uh-“ Tony blinks, and looks from the woman to the baby that is indeed sleeping. Who brings a baby to a science convention in the first place? “Do mothers always ask strangers to look after their children?”
“Well, considering you’re Tony Stark and the media would absolutely love it if I tell them that you stole my baby, I think I have some leverage.” Just at the thought of that headline, Tony grimaces. Pepper would kill him. Actually, literally kill him, bury his body somewhere in his own backyard, and run the company herself. “Please? I think I know where it is, and it’s way faster if I run upstairs and grab it, instead of explaining to you where it might be.”
Tony’s eyes move from the frantic woman to the sleeping baby. “Uh, well, I-“
Apparently, that’s enough for a young mother to leave her helpless child in the care of a stranger. “Thank you so much! I promise I won’t be long!” And then she’s gone. For a second, the genius can’t process what just happened, and stares at the now vacant spot, the smell of her perfume still lingering in the air.
“Does your mother always leave you with strangers or am I just the lucky exception?” Tony asks the baby, still wondering how this could have happened. But speaking of the baby, he takes another look at it – no, him, a baby boy. He’s still sleeping, dressed in a red and blue onesie with PETER embroidered on the chest. A single, dark curl rests on his forehead.
Here’s the deal: Tony likes kids. Rhodey says it’s because he’s just a slightly taller kid himself, and the genius can’t really disagree. Kids always laugh about his – child friendly, of course – jokes, they’re easily excitable, they always look at his inventions with big eyes, and ask if it can fly or change color instead of how much it costs or if it’s going to be profitable. But babies? They have no personality yet, they just look at you with big eyes, drool, sleep, and try to put everything in their mouths that fits into their small hands.
Accepting his defeat – and realizing that a headline about Tony Stark abandoning a baby is just as bad as one about him stealing a baby – he flops down on the couch, and closes his eyes for a second. “Please, do me a favor and wait for a diaper change until your Mommy is back, okay?”
To his surprise and horror, there’s a reply. Not one with words, but soft, distressed noises. Tony instantly freezes, praying that his ears are just playing a trick on him. But they aren’t. Instead, the noises are getting louder. A bit hesitant, the man leans forward to look inside the car seat again. Big, impossibly big eyes are staring back at him, the small face scrunched up in displeasure. There are no teeth in his mouth, and Tony tries to guess his age, but fails completely. Maybe a few months? A year? He has no clue.
The boy – Peter, Tony assumes, unless Mary Parker stole the onesie from some other baby – stares at him for a second, probably trying to figure out if his mother suddenly grew a beard and cut her hair. His eyes start to water up, and Tony decides to do something. “Hey, kiddo. Mommy will be right back, okay? No need to panic.”
Peter isn’t listening to him. His eyes move on from Tony’s face to whatever else he sees from the hallway. His distressed noises are getting louder, and he starts to shakes his tiny fists a bit. Tony feels the panic rising up in his chest, and turns the car seat to face him. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. No need to cry.” Peter keeps ignoring him, and a terrible feeling settles in Tony’s stomach. “You don’t need a new diaper, right? Please tell me you don’t need one. Like, I give you a million dollars if you just wait with that until your mom comes back.” Apparently, a million dollars isn’t appealing enough for Peter, because he’s getting closer and closer to actually crying.
Begrudgingly, Tony leans forward, trying to sniff if the boy is in need of a new diaper. To his immense relief, there’s only a clean, crisp smell, but before he can move away, something grabs his nose. It takes Tony a second to realize that it’s Peter’s tiny fist, holding his nose with a surprisingly strong hold, before Tony can slip out of it. Peter stares at him with wide eyes, his fist still raised. At least he’s stopped crying.
“You know that’s just a joke, right?” Tony explains. “You don’t actually have my nose now. It’s just a silly trick adults made up to tease rascals like you. See? It’s still right here.” He taps his nose twice and Peter gives him a short laugh, one that somehow lights up his entire face. Well, shit. If that isn’t one of the cutest things Tony has ever seen.
But then, Peter pulls his non-existing eyebrows together, the smile slipping from his face, and he starts making a grabbing motion towards Tony. “What? You can’t have my nose again.” Peter doesn’t want his nose. Instead, he starts pulling at the strings of the car seat, his face the embodiment of discontent. “You want out, huh? Have to say, can’t really blame you. This doesn’t look too comfy.”
Weirdly enough, Tony doesn’t really think about it a lot before he unbuckles Peter and picks him up – then he starts to think. Is he supposed to support his head? That’s a thing with babies, right? When do you have to stop supporting the head? And is Peter already at this age? Apparently, he is, because after a quick, surprised expression, like he can’t believe he actually got out the seat, Peter gives an excited squeal, and Tony settles him on his knee, making sure to hold his tiny body with both hands. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
The boy laughs again and makes the grabbing motions at Tony, who in turn starts to bounce his leg a bit, getting another squeal. Tony can’t help but smile at that. Somehow, even though he will never admit it, he feels connected to this child. Which is a really weird thing to say about a strange baby and will probably get him in a lot of trouble, so he keeps his mouth shut.
Peter, on the other hand, isn’t on board with that. He gets bored of the bouncing and starts to lean forward, continuing to trying to grab Tony’s face, and eventually starting to fuss. “What’s up, buddy? You don’t like the bouncing anymore?” Once he starts to speak, Peter stops the fuss, only to continue once Tony is silence for longer than two seconds. The billionaire blinks at the child. “What? You like it when I talk?” As if he actually understands his words, Peter squeals again, almost clapping his hands together.
A warm feeling blooms in Tony’s chest. If Peter’s mother doesn’t turn up soon, he might actually kidnap this child. “I think you’re actually the first person ever who doesn’t tell me to shut up.” Peter keeps on smiling, two fingers inside his mouth now, which should be gross, but is strangely adorable. “Alright. I can keep talking. No problem, I do it all the time. What do you want to hear about?”
Peter makes a gargling sound which is probably his version of an answer. Or maybe his fingers are just in the way of his words. However, Tony halts to think about it. What can he tell the kid? He could recite his speech again, but he isn’t so sure if his mother would appreciate him telling her son about a weapon.
What about a song? Kids love those, and Tony is pretty sure Peter wouldn’t mind his crappy singing voice. Which brings him to his next problem. Tony doesn’t know any songs for kids. But Peter is getting impatient by his silence, Tony can see it in the way he wrinkles his nose. Well, time to improvise. To a melody that roughly matches Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Tony starts to softly sing: “Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium –“
The elements don’t match up to the melody at all, but Peter doesn’t seem like he cares. Quite the opposite, actually. By the time Tony reaches Oganesson, the baby boy is actually clapping along – in a very bad rhythm, which is pretty appropriated.
“You liked that?” Tony asks, not even noticing the smile that is basically engraved into his face by this point. Peter squeals again, leaning forward and falling against Tony’s torso. At some point – Tony thinks it was when he sang about molybdenum – he’d pulled the boy closer to his body, almost unconsciously. The warm weight against him pulls at his heartstrings.
“Y’know what, buddy? How about you come work for me? I could definitely need someone who likes hearing me talk.” Peter just looks at him with his big eyes and the toothless grin. “You’re a bit young to start working, though. Could be trouble with the legal department. Well, we’ll just call it an internship. No problem then.” The fingers are back in Peter’s mouth now, and drool drops on Tony’s shirt. Weirdly enough, Tony isn’t grossed out about it. Okay, maybe a little bit, but not as much as he thought he would.
“Maybe we should wait until you can walk on your own, though, what do you think?” Peter gargles, more drool dripping on him. “Yeah, you’re right, no need for that. I have some robots, I’ll just build you a little carriage, and they can pull you around.”
The boy starts to laugh, but then the doors from the elevators open with a soft ringing noise, drawing their attention to them. The second a little less frantic looking Mary Parker steps out of them, Peter starts squealing in delight, trying to get to his mother, and Tony needs to actually readjust his grip so the baby doesn’t faceplants on the floor.
“Hi Petey, did you wake up?” Mary asks as she lifts Peter out of Tony’s hands. Immediately, Tony notices the loss of the comforting weight and warmth, but he doesn’t say anything. Kidnapping babies is bad. Pepper wouldn’t like it. And it’s not his baby. Just because Peter likes listening to his voice and his bad song about elements, doesn’t mean he has any claim to him. The boy will most likely forget him by the time he takes another nap.
(Tony pushes the stinging pain that comes with the thought out of his mind.)
“Were you a good boy for Mr. Stark?” Mary continues to asks and drops a kiss on Peter’s head.
“He was no problem,” Tony answers, because Peter is preoccupied with looking at his mom and pointing to her hair. “The second you left, he woke up and we got to chat for a bit.”
“I really can’t thank you enough,” she says sincerely.
“It wasn’t any trouble at all.” Because it really wasn’t, which Tony wouldn’t have thought possible fifteen minutes ago. Somehow, it makes him a little sadder than he likes to admit. He sniffs once and moves to the elevator, an obvious hint that he’s going to leave. “He’s a sweet boy. And, y’know, if you’re ever in Malibu and need a babysitter, ring me up. I’m not quite sure if I’m in the address book, but someone is always at the Stark Industries Headquarters.”
Mary laughs. “Thanks, I’ll think about it.” She looks to Peter, who has been very interested in the collar of her blazer for the last minute. “Petey, do you want to say goodbye to the nice man?”
Peter looks to his mom and then at Tony, making him wonder if he actually understands words already or if it’s just his intuition. A smile spreads across his little face, and he starts smacking his lips in a weird way, leaning forward and reaching a hand out to Tony. Almost instinctively, Tony moves back to him, holding a hand out as if to catch him, but Peter just grabs his finger with a strong grip. “What are you doing, kiddo?” he asks quietly as Peter continues to smack his lips, absolutely delighted with himself.
“He’s trying to give you kisses,” Mary explains, a soft smile on his face. “Isn’t that right, Petey? Didn’t Aunty May teach you how to give kisses?” At the name of his aunt, Peter squeals again, looking around the hall as if she might pop up from behind one of the potted plants.
For a second, Tony hesitated. This is a stranger’s baby. He has spent a total of seven minutes with him. And yet he can’t help himself. Tony leans forward, presenting his cheek to the baby, and not a second later, he feels a very, very sloppy and wet kiss – if you can even call it a kiss – against his skin. “Well, you should tell your Aunty May that you need more teaching. There should be a lot less drool.” Peter simply laughs, letting go of his hand in order to get a hold of his mother again.
Before Tony can do something stupid that Pepper would definitely scold him for, he steps into the elevator. “Oh, I kinda offered him an internship at SI, so if his first words are Stark Industries, don’t be too disappointed.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Mary chuckles. “C’mon, Peter, say bye Mr. Stark!” Peter doesn’t say bye Mr. Stark, but when his mother starts to wave her hand, he kind of imitates the motion, smiling brightly like he’s having the time of his life. Tony waves back as the doors close right in front of him.
Pepper thinks he’s crazy when he tells her to put out a notice to immediately accept a Peter Parker, should he ever apply to SI. After all, he did promise him a position. But to be honest, Tony doesn’t really think it would ever happen, and over the years, he kind of forgets about it.
Until one and half decades later, he sees a video of a boy in a red and blue onesie catch a bus with his bare hands.
(please don’t leave your kids with strangers)
Please tag me in your fills so I can see and reblog them easier!
Iron Dad Bingo #2- Trope: Baby Stark
I wrote this on a whim while trying and failing to wake up my irondad muse. it’s been so long since i wrote an irondad fic. this idea just came out of nowhere while i was lounging in a coffee shop. you know the drill, not endgame compliant. tony lives. because that’s all i care about. sort of fix it.
title inspired by the lyrics of the song ‘Leaves’ by a filipino indie pop band ben&ben
Summary: A little girl offered a candy to Peter to comfort him when Peter was a bit broken inside after the battle against Thanos had been won.
And all will be alright in time.
Peter was crouched down in the hallway of a hospital. The hallway was empty and the strong scent of antiseptic was wafting in the air. Peter lost track of how long he was in that position. It could have been minutes or hours. He didn’t quite remember anymore. The moment the doctors said that Mr. Stark was not in the critical condition anymore, Peter’s feet had started to drag him away, away from Miss Potts –no, Mrs. Stark now and Mr. Rhodes who were visibly worn out from the battle against Thanos and his armies earlier.
He wore a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants and a hoodie. He also did not remember who had given the clothes to him. Because it seemed like his brain was still filled with the adrenaline rush of the battle, of saving Earth and of surviving through. Everything felt like a blur. It felt like everything was moving in a fast forward motion and he was the only one who had remained in a freeze mode.
He had been staring at that single white tiled floor and all he could think about was Mr. Stark almost dying. Almost. His brain had chosen that moment to keep on replaying in his head. Mr. Stark who was still as a statue, who wasn’t responding and whose heart was about to give up on beating.
Then the arc reactor shut off. The light had vanished and there was this terrible and dead silence that hit them like an invisible wave. It had knocked the breath out of Peter. It had been the longest awful one second of his life. Then there was a portal and Mr. Strange. Mr. Stark was being wheeled into the Operating Room with Dr. Strange in tow.
Then there was the good news.
Yes. Good news, something to be delighted about. But why Peter couldn’t bring himself to smile and instead tears were continuously falling from his eyes. He hugged his knees more tightly as he buried his face at the crook of his elbow.
Don’t get him wrong, it was a huge relief for him that Mr. Stark was alive. It truly was. The tears were for his own heart that constricted and squeezed at the sight of Mr. Stark who had been willing to give everything he got for the universe even if it meant was the expense of his life.
Mr. Stark, who in a short amount of time, had been a huge part in shaping who he should be as an Avenger, Mr. Stark who had filled the gaps of his days. Mr. Stark whom he had looked up to, Mr. Stark who had helped him with the relativistic mass-energy equation. And the thing was the thought that there would be no Mr. Stark in a new world that had been successfully saved, was a scary scary thought.
That was probably the tears were also for.
That he needed to dispense all those scary thoughts so he could finally smile.
“Do you want candy?”
Peter froze. He slowly lifted his head. A girl probably no older than 6 was standing in front of her. He was wearing a pink floral dress and a brown leather jacket partnered with black ankle boots. She had dark brown hair that reached her shoulder. Her brown eyes blinked at him. Though, there was something familiar with her eyes.
Keep reading
bingo prompt: graveyard
Tony’s heart dropped when FRIDAY told him where Peter was—Peter was at a graveyard.
can be read on ao3!
bingo prompt: darkness
Peter had never liked the darkness, and the darkness didn’t like him either—all he just wanted to do was find a light.
can be read on ao3!
bingo prompt: blood
Peter sat there, staring at Ned like he'd lost his will to live, covered in blood, glaring at Ned's snickering.
can be read on ao3!
“Hi, I’m Ellie, and I‘ll be your guide for today.” The young woman who looks like she just graduated from college gives them a wide, happy smile. “Welcome to Stark Industries! Now, before we start the tour, I’ll give each of you a visitor badge. Please make sure that it’s visible at all times, and don’t lose it. They’re a big deal around here.” Ned gives Peter a questioning look, and he solemnly nods. He’d seen Happy yell at someone because they’d forgotten their badge, and it hadn’t been pretty.
Out of the corners of his eyes, Peter sees Flash giving him a mean-looking smirk. “Ms. Ellie, Peter is an intern here. Does he need a visitor badge?” Instead of the embarrassed annoyance Peter usually feels whenever Flash tries to debunk his internship, he feels a smug kind of proud. He’s expected this.
“Oh, he does?” Ellie looks around the group, trying to figure out who this Peter is, and Flash – always the helpful citizen – points him out. But Peter is prepared. He takes out the badge that all the usual R&D interns have, holding it out for Ellie to see. She studies it for a second, and gives him big smile. “That’s great! I didn’t know one of my colleagues would be part of the tour today.”
“Wait, so Parker is actually an intern here?” Flash asks a bit dumbfounded, clearly not happy with the answer. He probably wants security guards dragging Peter out of the building.
Ellie shrugs, not really paying attention to him anymore. “He has a badge, so he must be. Has everyone got a badge? Awesome! Okay, there’s only one more thing we have to do before we start the tour, and that’s a quick security check. If you would all line up in front of the metal detectors, please.” Peter and the rest of his Physics class, as well as Ms. Warren and Mr. Harrington, shuffle to the security check point. He has been looking forward to this field trip. Despite spending about three days a week here, he has never seen anything besides the garage, Tony’s private elevator, his private lab, and the penthouse. Mr. Stark has always promised to give him a grand tour, but they always got distracted by one thing or the other.
At first, Peter had dreaded the trip. Flash would try to expose his fake internship, and Tony would definitely do everything he could to embarrass him, because he just loves to mess with him like that. Peter had already been looking for school he could transfer to after this trip, but then a small miracle happened. Tony isn’t here today, and neither is Happy. They’re in Washington, visiting a company SI might make a joint project with, and they won’t return until tomorrow afternoon. That takes the two people who’re most likely to blow his cover out of the picture. Trying to pass as an ordinary intern was a tad more complicated, but after confiding in Ms. Potts, she lent him a blank badge he could use – his real badge is a little chip in the watch Tony made for him, just like the one the genius has. When someone from the R&D department would actually ask him about the internship, he has all the answers he needs to dodge their questions. There was absolutely no way this could turn into a disaster.
So, naturally, it turns into a disaster.
Keep reading
hi! I was wondering if you still had the list of prompts you used to fill in the bingo cards? i always found it useful to look through it for ideas but now i can't find it :/
You can find them here, but be aware that we no longer make any from this
Alternate Universe
There were so many AUs to choose from that I may have to do another part eventually!
As always: you can start writing/making art whenever you’d like. Make sure you tag it to #IronDadBingo and/or our account so that we can reblog it!
card please!!!!
You can find the Halloween and Cliche Trope cards already posted.
Hey there, Sorry you got so swamped, and Im excited for the new cards. I'm sorry if you were already asked this, but are you no longer creating bingo cards for people? Can we use the cards you posted on the blog if we want to participate? Thanks!
You can use the two new themed cards or if anyone has posted their original blank one to use.
Hi. I have had a Tony and daughter idea fluttering around for a while. Would that be alright as long as Peter is involved as well (based on what I saw that one anon ask - I know Pete's gotta be around!) but do the "other kids" have to be canon or can they be OCs?
We prefer the fills to be Peter and Tony centric, but any other kids are welcome. OCs included.
Is there a specific time where you have to sign up for this or can you participate whenever you want. Where do we find the Bingo Cards? Are we assigned cards or do we pick them? I’ve never participated in fanfic bingo if it wasn’t already obvious lol
For the new format, you can participate whenever you’d like. I have two active bingos posted (Halloween and Cliche Tropes). I’ll create a master list for the bingos.
For the new cliches board, can we do group chat instead of Twitter fic for those of us who are.....Twitter challenged?
Sure! Any social media fic related trope could work.
bingo prompt: “This is where they all die in the movies.”
Peter tells Tony what the stars remind him of during a camping trip.
can be read on ao3!
