violin man


dad!Scott Lang/Peter Parker x Reader

Assumed female reader

Word Count: 1324

“At it again, Sherlock?” your dad commented, smiling at you from the doorway of your room.

Startled, you put your violin down. He’d been doing this to you since you started playing when you were in fourth grade, but it never failed to give you a minor heart attack.

“No, no, no!” Scott protested. “Keep playing! I’ll leave, if it helps.”

“It’s fine, Dad, you just scared me,” you said. You put the instrument on your shoulder again, and attempted to get back into the piece you were practicing, but playing was so much more awkward with someone watching you. You set the violin back down on your knee, and let out a sigh of frustration.

“See? I mess you up every time I come in,” he asserted. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll probably be watching Little Einsteins or whatever with your sister.”

“Have fun,” you said sarcastically.

“So much fun,” he rolled his eyes, emphasizing the ‘so.’

Once he was gone, you took a deep breath, popped your knuckles, rolled your shoulders back, and put your violin back up. You loved the piece you were playing for your orchestra class. It was a really good arrangement of themes from Pirates of the Caribbean, and it was so easy to just run through the whole thing, from melody to melody.

Your dad called you Sherlock because, like the fictional detective, playing your violin helped you to focus and think. The rhythmic back-and-forth motions of your right arm paired with the precise positioning of the fingers triggered something in your mind that created answers, or at least pathways to answers that you needed.

You were interrupted once again maybe just fifteen minutes later by Cassie running into your room, demanding, “Stop playing! I can’t hear my show when you play your violin.”

“Okay, okay,” you conceded. You put your violin back into its case, and went out into the living room to see why Scott hadn’t stopped Cassie from stopping you. You saw him laying down on the couch, fast asleep already. “Good job, Dad,” you congratulated him quietly, mostly talking to yourself. “It’s an actual talent to fall asleep that fast.”

“What?” he muttered sleepily. He opened one of his eyes just a little bit.

“Go to your bed, nerd,” you laughed.

“But I’m so comfortable right here,” he moaned.

“Sure, but you always complain about your neck being sore after you fall asleep on the couch,” you pointed out.

“Good point,” he agreed. Even as he said the words, he was falling asleep again.

You sighed and walked over to him. You tried with much difficulty to lift him up by sliding your hands under his shoulder and pulling, grunting, “Come on. It’s time for bed for you, Dad.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Yes, you do, you big baby. Come on,” you encouraged, still grunting from the strain of trying to lift his weight up.

“You’re so mean,” he whined, sitting up on his own. He yawned, stretched, then got up and walked the path to his room. “Night, Sherlock. Love you,” he told you before disappearing into his room for the night.

“Love you too,” you said reflexively. You turned to your sister. “You know what this means, Cass?” you asked her.

“You get to tuck me in!” she cheered. You shushed her quickly. “You get to tuck me in!” she whisper-yelled.

“Let’s get your jammies on,” you whisper-yelled right back.

After your first hour orchestra class the next morning, you had a second hour release. You usually used it for practicing further, but today, you had invited your friend and long-time crush, Peter Parker, to study with you. You had told him that he could just come to the band/orchestra room, as you were usually the only one in there. He had a study hall, so it worked out perfectly.

You completely forgot.

You hadn’t ever really played your violin in front of your friends before, and especially not Peter. He would probably get you even more flustered than when your dad walked into your room when you were playing, but flustered in a completely different way.

So, when Peter requested, “Keep going!” when you stopped to shake out your fingers, you visibly jumped.

“Oh my gosh, Peter, you scared me,” you said, breathing slowly and heavily to calm your frantic heart rate.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I thought you knew that I was coming.”

“I did, I just totally forgot, otherwise I would have been working on the bio homework,” you explained.

“I’m kinda glad you forgot, then. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you play before,” he commented.

“There’s a reason for that,” you muttered to yourself.

“Aw, come on, (Y/N), that’s the best I’ve ever heard a violin sound. Why are you self-conscious about it?” he asked.

“I-I don’t really know,” you stuttered. “I can’t even play for my family, you know? I just play better alone. It helps me think.”

His eyes brightened. “So you’re like Sherlock?”

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Uh-huh,” you responded.

“It fits you,” he remarked. “Sherlock. Huh. Anyway, let’s get started on this bio homework due fourth hour.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you nodded. You unzipped your backpack and pulled your biology binder out. You opened it and flipped through the tabs until you found the homework page. “I have the first five problems done. You?”

“I haven’t even started,” he confessed.

“Well, the first five are multiple choice, so those are pretty easy,” you noted. “I just didn’t want to do the next five short response.”

“Me, neither,” he said. “But two heads are better than one, so let’s start with those.”

“Are you sure? I have no problem with doing the multiple choice with you.”

Peter laughed. “It’s no good to procrastinate. We have to do them either way.”

“Fine,” you accepted. “Question 6: list the steps of DNA replication.”

The two of you worked at lease three times as fast as you would have alone. It almost seemed like Peter was rushing to get things done as fast as he could. You didn’t understand why; there was still half an hour left until third hour when you finished helping him with the multiple choice.

“Would you mind playing something for me?” he requested once you were done. Now it made sense. He wanted to hear you play again, and he wanted to hear you for as much time as he could.

“I–uh, sure, I guess?” you reluctantly agreed. You looked through your music folder and grabbed your book of movie soundtrack themes. You opened it to a random page and asked, “do you care if I play this one?” without looking at what it was.

He giggled at your apparent choice in song, and you whipped your head to read the title. It was “Across the Stars,” the love theme from the Star Wars prequels. You inwardly groaned. What this how you were going to die? Of total embarrassment?

“Yeah, that one’s perfect,” he said.

“Why?” you questioned. Yep, death by embarrassment it was.

“What do you mean 'why?’”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” you lied.

“No, (Y/N), come on. Why did you ask why?”

“I told you it’s nothing! I mean, it’s a love thing, and we’re just friends–”

“We can be more than that if you want to be,” he suggested quickly, while he had his chance.

You blinked, taking in what he had just said. “Sorry, what? Back up,” you said.

“I thought you knew,” he said, tilting his head just a little.

“I know what, now?”

“I’ve had this stupid huge crush on you since you moved here,” he told you. “You really didn’t notice?”

“I guess I was more focused on my stupid huge crush on you,” you admitted, looking at the floor.

“That makes sense. I mean, I didn’t notice that, either,” he said. “So, uh, how about that love theme, Sherlock?”

I still can’t handle how pretty Sherlock is and I never will.
It always hits me when I realize it again.
I love his pale skin, his blue/green eyes, his perfect lips, his dark curls, his cheekbones.
The way he talks and walks, his thinking position, the way he plays his violin etc etc.
This man is my aesthetic. He is so extremly beautiful and attractive, oh my God. My heart starts glowing when I see him.

Don’t get me wrong, Benedict is generally beautiful and attractive of course, just an angel, I love him so much, not for his role as Sherlock Holmes, I love him for his being etc, but I must say anyway his role as Sherlock Holmes… Wow, just wow.


Lindsey Stirling & Lang Lang - Spider Man Theme

Sherlock S4E3 in a nutshell (now it's over)


Sherlock doesn’t play with sister
Sister kills friend
Sister burns house
Sister sent to asylum
Sherlock solves crime with Watson
Sister makes moriarty mad
Sister makes mycroft & Sherlock & john do quest
Sister gets emotional
Sherlock is a ‘good’ man
Much violins

Well, back to supernatural

The Orchestra according to a clarinet
  • Piccolo: nice human but causes bleeding ears
  • Flute: smol, amazing human with all the solos
  • Oboe: Duckling
  • Clarinet: awkward, tol bean who sleeps half the rehearsal
  • Bassoon: cool, fancy tol oboe...texts all rehearsal
  • Trumpet: LOUD headache causes with awesome tone
  • French horn: Sounds like heaven when they remember to play the key signature (otherwise burn them)
  • Trombone: Slippy sidey arms magic
  • Tuba: that was deep man
  • 1st Violin: ego ego ego ego
  • 2nd Violin: smol loud beans '
  • Viola: needs more, great stringy thing, misunderstood
  • Cello: fave, cute humans better that clarinet tbh
  • Double Bass: Pulls faces across orchestra