1990 || aria's arrival

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I'm dedicating every day to you
Domestic life was never quite my style
When you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart
And I thought I was so smart
-Dear Theodosia, Leslie Odom Jr

I'm dedicating every day to youDomestic life was never quite my styleWhen you smile, you knock me out, I fall apartAnd I thought I was so smart-Dear Theodosia, Leslie Odom Jr

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March 18th 1990
Stark Manor, Upstate New York

March eighteenth, nineteen ninety.

What a weird day.

It started like any other day for Tony Stark. He woke up, hungover, and with some unfamiliar girl in a hotel room. Then, he snuck out without said girl noticing and headed back home, where he was yelled at by his dad. Breaking up the argument, his mother, Maria, calmed the two down. That's when the day took a turn. The house phone rang and Maria picked it up, expecting it to be Obadiah or one of her friends calling to organize brunch.

Well, it wasn't about brunch.

After, Howard yelling once again, Maria crying, and a quick, paparazzi-filled, trip to a New York hospital, the Stark family returned home.

The entire family.

So, now, Howard is sitting on the sofa, head in his hands, desperately trying (and failing) to contain his anger. Tony is staring out the window blankly, scuffing the toe of his pristine, shined oxfords on the equally pristine wooden floor. And Maria, the only content person there, is stood in the center of the room, cradling a small, pink bundle.

"She's gorgeous, Tony." Maria gushes over the tiny baby, "She has your eyes." she smiles as the baby giggles, "And your smile."

"Great, now we have another Tony Stark on our hands. Just what I wanted." Howard says, as he finally lifts his head out of his hands and glares at his son.

"Oh yeah, because this is exactly what I wanted too," Tony says sarcastically, still not taking his gaze from the window.

"Well if you hadn't been such a reckless little shit, we wouldn't have this problem." Howard spits, walking right up to Tony.

Maria rushes over before things get too heated and, with the hand that isn't cradling the baby, she pushes Howard away gently, "Howard, you were exactly the same when you were his age. Frankly, I'm surprised our marriage has lasted this long without some random man or woman rocking up on my doorstep and claiming to be your long-lost child." Tony chuckles at this, and Maria glares at him too, "You, young man, still aren't off the hook. But, there'll be time for being mad at Tony later. Right now, we need to decide what we're doing this little sweetheart." nobody says a thing, Maria sighs, "Tony, this is your daughter! You need to make a decision!"

"I'm twenty-one I don't want a kid!" That, Tony is sure of; the next thing to come out of his mouth, not so much, "Send her to an orphanage or something!", the words feel bitter coming off his tongue. He's Tony Stark. Prodigy? Yes. Genius? Yes. Playboy? Definitely. Father? No. Besides, what twenty-one-year-old wants a kid? He's in his prime. He should be out partying, drinking, and getting laid, not changing diapers and playing peek-a-boo. As much as he doesn't want a kid, he also doesn't particularly want something he created, his flesh and blood, shipped off to an orphanage.

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