I know what you've been thinking -- How can I manage to look so good even in the face of so much adversity? Good genes and smart fashion sense.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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farfromhelpless:
(✉️ ➡️ bobberto ): do you vomit along with that? bc i can’t imagine seeing THOSE brown eyes every morning. i saw them enough in brazil and yikes (✉️ ➡️ bobberto ): no bobby, your eyes are the color of shit :) i’m talking like, warm chocolate brown. not shit brown (✉️ ➡️ bobberto ): oh right, i am so wounded! how will i ever move on? oh. oops. already did, i guess what we had was… nothing :)
(✉️ ➡️ drug dealer): you should be so lucky. you don’t deserve these brown eyes. (✉️ ➡️ drug dealer): my eyes are golden. people would fight wars over them. (✉️ ➡️ drug dealer): this denial is embarrassing. i’m embarrassed for you
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BEGIN AGAIN TASK 001: QUESTIONAIRE
What is one of your favorite HCs for your muse?
Bobby is often shown as being incredibly intelligent despite his outward appearance as a total himbo. Additionally, in early comics, he’s frequently shown speaking to himself in Spanish under his breath. Now, I know that this is probably because someone on the writing staff didn’t do a ton of research and assumed Brazil was a Spanish-speaking country, but that’s dumb! So, instead of accepting that, I take into account both his intelligence and status and headcanon that English is Bobby’s third language.
In my headcanon, Bobby was raised in a bilingual household. His father, Emmanuel, was born in Brazil and spoke Portuguese to Bobby while his mother, Nina, was born in Spain and spoke Spanish. Bobby learned both languages at the same time, as many children raised bilingual do, and thus became comfortable in both before he started school. He learned English as a teenager and picked up a love for languages as a result. On top of these three languages, he’s also fluent in Mandarin and Classical Latin.
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#(𝖎'𝖒 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖙 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘. || inspiration)#(𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖓 𝖑���𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖍. || crack)#(𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖞 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊. || dani)
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blastcd:
The words his mother told him replay on repeat in his mind — one of the closest people in his life who knows him better than Sam even knows himself. There were always these unspoken feelings — love in his eyes while gazing over at his best friend over the years. They became close almost effortlessly when they were teenagers, like all those laughs with Roberto slowly started meaning something more. His heart beating faster when they were in the same room, and they got the chance to be alone. Even if it was just going to a baseball game or sneak a few beers when their professors weren’t looking.
His relationship with Isabel Kane was sudden, but those feelings were just as genuine as the ones felt for Roberto. They had a lot in common, she was born and raised on a farm too. They both quit school to take care of their families and the farmland. It was like they were the same person sometimes, but maybe that’s where they went wrong. Izzy tried to be around often as she could. but her job meant being away in space as Superguardian of the Shi’a Empire. They made the arrangement work, but when Josiah came into the picture Sam moved out to another planet to be closer to Izzy. This was lonely — missing his old life that was left behind. They eventually decided it was best to remain just friends, and Sam moved back to Earth with their son because it was too dangerous out there anyway. Sam doesn’t care if Josiah was invulnerable like him — he doesn’t want his boy exposed to such things. He never regrets the time they had together because the most precious boy came out of it.
His feelings for Roberto never left, but came back even stronger when they started spending time together again when Sam moved back to Earth. He remembers how excited his best friend was to find out that he wouldn’t be in space anymore — they’ve missed out on too much all those months of being gone. What the blonde wouldn’t give to make sure Roberto could be that happy all the time. He deserves to smile every day, the genuine type where it didn’t have to be forced and reaches your eyes. There were more things that Sam wishes he could do with Bobby. He aches to hold his hand while they’re out in public or curled up in bed at night. He ACHES to be able to kiss him and come distract him while he’s at work. Sam wants to go on dates with his best friend, and take him back to Kentucky to visit the farm. Bobby gets along with his family, and his mother adores him. She was even supporting this, and there goes her words replaying in his mind again.
‘AH’VE SEEN THE WAY YOU TWO LOOK AT EACH OTHER.’
This is what she said to him, and maybe his whole family can see it. They could just be waiting for them to figure it out. This could be quite risky, won’t it?
His lips form a grin, moving to sit on the edge of Roberto’s bed. They had the time to figure this out and have an important conversation while Josiah is with the rest of the Guthrie family. “Ah appreciate that, mah two youngest siblings have fallen asleep on your chair.” There’s a laugh filling the room, a fond one as the twins have really tuckered themselves out with the party. “Ya succeeded, nobody plans parties quite like you do. He really loved th’ ponies. They let him feed ‘em with his friend, and it was quite adorable.” Sam knows mentioning this might mean Roberto is going to actually buy him one. Where would they even put a pony in the city?
“No, ah’m not movin’ back t’space. Ah don’t know how ta say this. Ah’ve replayed this conversation in mah head thousands of times.” His hands nervously pull at a thread coming off of his jeans before continuing. “You’re mah best friend, Roberto. Your friendship is so important ta me. Ah’m just going ta say it. Ah’m in love with you. Ah’ve been in love with you since we were kids, but ah never knew how t’tell you. You’re so beautiful, ah mean it you always take mah breath away. You’re the funniest person ah know, always making me laugh.” He inhales for a moment. “Ah love you so much. Ah really just needed you ta know how ah feel. Please say somethin’ ah’m so nervous.”
How many times have you been in love? It was a question everyone got sometimes, one that was almost expected. Bobby had been asked more than once, and his answer changed by the hour. He fell in love three times a day, sometimes, just for moments. He fell in love with a man he saw dancing on a street corner to stay warm, a man he saw once and never again. He fell in love with a woman at the bar who's skin sparkled with glitter as she sang his favorite song in karaoke. The barista at Starbucks who always drew a smiley face on his cup, the men who played football in the park and smiled with gleeful joy as they kicked the ball back and forth, the woman behind him in line at the bank who smiled at her phone wide and unapologetic. Bobby fell in love often, and each time it was thrilling. Each time it was exhilarating.
But some times were deeper than others. Some people made a home in his heart and stayed there, voices bouncing around in the walls of his chest and settling in deep. Those people were the ones who changed him, the ones who made him what he was. He loved the people he loved, but only a select few of them became tattoos beneath his skin, a part of him forever.
He’d loved Juliana. He would always love Juliana, loved her even now, years after her death. His chest still ached for her, sometimes, for that girl with the messy blonde hair who’d seen a lonely boy with too much money and made a person out of him. When his mother had been away and his father too busy to remember how to parent, it was Juliana who sat with him on the bed in his room and helped him with his homework. It was her who’d come to every last one of his football games, her who’d commissioned an embarrassing cardboard cutout of his face to wave around in the stands, her who held his hand tightly when kids on the street narrowed their eyes and glared accusingly at him for existing with skin too dark and clothes too nice. It didn’t compute for them, didn’t make sense. They didn’t believe a young black man should have money. Juliana called them out frequently, used her fair skin as a weapon on his behalf. He’d loved her so much more than he’d ever loved himself.
He loved Sam, too. He always had, even when he was fifteen and terrified. He remembered coming back to America with the New Mutants, more afraid than he’d ever let anyone see. He remembered speaking English that was better than most anyone’s in Brazil but still not as good as everyone’s in America, remembered feeling so self-conscious about his accent that he’d often clam up and say nothing at all, and he remembered Sam slapping him on the back with a grin and encouraging him to speak up anyway. He remembered Sam laughing at his antics when everyone else rolled their eyes, remembered Sam ducking to meet his gaze when he looked away, making sure he was okay when everyone else was content to let him slip beneath the radar. He loved Sam the same way he had loved Juliana --- completely, entirely, consumingly. He loved Sam so much that he started seeing him in that man dancing on the street corner in the snow, in the girl with the glitter on her skin singing his favorite song, in the barista and the football players and the woman in line at the bank. He loved Sam so much that all a stranger had to do to win Bobby’s heart was remind him of him.
And Sam deserved better, he did. Bobby had always known it. He’d ached when Sam was with Izzy, hurt so much he thought he might burst with it, but Sam had been happy. Sam had been loved by someone with less sharp edges than Bobby, someone with a quiet smile and things in common. And Bobby had been jealous and heartbroken and so happy for Sam because Sam deserved that, he did. He deserved so much more than Bobby could ever give him.
But god, with Sam sitting on the edge of his bed like this, like Juliana used to, with a grin on his lips and a shine in his eyes, Bobby was so glad it hadn’t worked out. That was selfish, he knew, but Roberto da Costa was a selfish man. He always had been. “Aw, we should move them to a bed,” he laughed, fond expression on his face. He had extra beds, guest rooms everyone quietly accepted were reserved for the New Mutants. “He deserves a good party. Your kid, Sam, he’s... He’s amazing.” One of the best things in Bobby’s life, along with Sam himself.
Sam continued and, for a second, Bobby’s breath caught in his throat. The paranoid, self-conscious part of his mind heard the nervousness in Sam’s tone, the way he was gearing up to something and assumed the worst. I don’t know how to say this, but I don’t like you anymore, his mind offered, jumping to ridiculous and terrible conclusions. It was something Sam would never say, because Sam was kind. He was kind and caring and generous and so much more than Bobby deserved.
And then he got to his point, and the world came screeching to a halt.
Bobby’s mouth went dry, eyes wide as his brain short-circuited with the information. He didn’t realize he’d been silently gaping until Sam begged him to say something, and Bobby blinked. “You love me?” He said quietly, as if trying to puzzle it out. “Like --- Like love me love me? Since we were kids? That’s...” And then he laughed, so sudden it surprised even himself. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling light and giddy. “You mean --- You mean we could’ve been making out for, like, ten years now?”
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weewolflassie:
@solarsunspots said: ❛ What else of mine have you stolen? ❜
“I’m nae a thief, ‘Berto!” Rahne protested, again. She thought he might just be teasing her, but she still felt guilty. “I didnae know it was yours!”
“A thief and a liar!” Bobby accused dramatically, pointing a finger in her direction dramatically. “Those were my leftovers and you knew it. My name was on the box, Rahne!”
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disarraycd:
What does the world think of them? They were two Mutants on a very short list of their people that have signed the Accords. Alex thought about it every day since released from confinement. It was overwhelming at first, remembering just staring down at his hands as he was absorbing energy from the sunlight for the first time in over a month. Alex was excited to just have the ability to blast something again if he wanted to. “I thought I was alone in having to go through with this. It made me ANGRY singing my name on the dotted line, but also felt so humiliating. They acted so proud while I just wished I could BLAST ‘EM. Did it feel similar for you?”
Their situations were different, of course. The Raft was a hellhole, the kind of place the worst criminals on earth were sent to rot. Signing the Accords to get out of there was something anyone would have done, and Bobby knew that his situation hadn’t been nearly as dire. He could have lived a good life in Brazil. He could have run his business, could have had little drinks on the beach, could have considered it a retirement. He could have stayed in the country where he was born, the country where his father had died, and maybe he never would have been happy but he would have been okay. (And his friends would have forgotten him. They would have moved on. Maybe that was why he fought so hard to come back --- because, at the end of the day, Bobby could let himself be anything but forgotten.) Their situations were different, but the end result was the same. The anger was the same. And there was comfort in that sameness. “I was mad, too,” he admitted with a wry smile. “It was designed to be humiliating, I think. This whole thing, it’s... It’s about power. About them having power over us. That’s what it’s always about, when it comes down to it.” That was why he was beaten on a soccer field at thirteen years old --- because people who looked different than he did felt superior to him. General Ross’s motivations weren’t far from those of the racist kids who’d hurt him back then, and Bobby knew it. “I’d like to blast them, too. I really wish we could.”
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[text] Buy me a helicopter, I will give you the last slice of pizza. pls. this is important. okay maybe the crust? // @ofmagikandlimbo
(✉️ ➡️ mother russia): i won’t do it for the crust. full slice or bust.
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blastcd:
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] oh? so you look for that physical attraction before wanting to get to know someone better, like take them on a date?
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] this is good to know!
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] [UNSENT] does that count me out? i’m not hot
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] yeah, i’m very funny.
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] [UNSENT] it wasn’t meant to be a joke it wasn’t a joke it wasn’t a
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] an old man? don’t let him hear you saying that 😂
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] you aren’t going to die, you’ll be fine. do you want me to spend a few nights at your place to protect you? 😉
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] i love you, but why are you like this? 😂 try not to provoke anyone else before tomorrow. i’ll work on it!
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] you know i can’t help it! it’s my southern charm.
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] thanks, bobby. this is why you’re my best friend.
[ OUTGOING → SUNFLOWER ] 💛💛💛
(✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): not necessarily. i like personalities too. i have layers! (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): what, are you planning on setting me up with someone? (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): [unsent] god please don’t try setting me up with anyone there’s only so much of this pining thing i can take (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): funniest guy i know! (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): he may have overheard me saying it when i said it to his face after blasting him with a water gun. (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): [unsent] i want you to spend a few nights at my house for a lot of reasons (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): i definitely need you to stay over and protect me (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): you love me /because/ i’m like this! you’d get bored if i wasn’t. (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): that’s a big ask, buddy. i’m definitely going to provoke at least three more people before tomorrow. (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): it’s my favorite southern charm. (✉️ ➡️ hot “blastin” blonde): love you, buddy.
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apoisontouch:
Spending time with Bobby was always exciting in one form or another, but he had a tendency to push well past the set boundaries and keep going until someone forcibly stopped him. And this was one of those times that Rogue was sure that she was going to need to pull him back by the scruff of his neck.
He turned towards her and she crossed her arms, keeping their walking pace. “I know ya happen t’ be rich, ya don’t ever stop tellin’ everyone. Money ain’t gonna get ya out of everythin’, ya know that, right?” There was gonna be a time when his money wouldn’t solve the problem he was facing. But she figured have to experience that first before he believed her. But then he kept talking and Rogue sped up just slightly, swinging her arm up so that she had it wrapped around his neck, forcing him into a hunched position as they walked. “I know we’re friends and all, but ya make one more comment about my sex life and ya won’t be able t’ have one for a month. Maybe two dependin’ on how hard I feel like hittin’ ya.”
Make yourself hard to ignore. It was one of the first lessons learned by neglected children, one of the earliest things Bobby took to heart. Attention was hard to come by when your mother was absent and your father was perpetually busy, so sometimes you had to grab it with both hands. You had to act out until the teachers called home, until they forced someone to acknowledge your existence even if only to scold you. You had to talk and talk and talk and never stop talking, keep going until your voice was the only sound filling the room. You had to say all the wrong things because anger was always, always better than indifference.
It was a hard thing to unlearn. Rogue wasn’t a disinterested parent --- she was a friend, technically, and someone Bobby would very much like to continue referring to as such. But he’d never quite known how to stop, and he liked to think there was a level of charm to that. “Money gets you out of a lot of things,” he shot back with a grin, because of course he knew she was right. There was a lot that money couldn’t buy. Few people could list them as extensively as Bobby could. Her arm was around his neck and he was ducked down in an awkward position, but his cackling showed just how little the gesture really upset him. “Helping! I’m helping! I’m being very helpful and helpful people do not deserve to be hit!”
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ladywolverines:
Cultural norms weren’t something that Laura understood — at all. She relied on Gabby and Ric and Warren to guide her through things that would have otherwise been described as simple… but then there were people like Roberto Da Costa, who would happily trick her without a second thought. And Laura… had fallen for it. The food was communal he had said, just take it, he had said. This was a moment that Warren or Ric or Jean or Scott would have stepped in and told her that he was playing with her. But when it was just the two of them… Laura didn’t think she had any reason not to trust him, but clearly, she did.
Laura didn’t get embarrassed, but if she did, she knew that this would have been a moment that would have turned a normal person’s cheeks red. “I’m not worried about the ban,” she said hotly. “I can’t believe you played me.” She stood beside him, looking him in the eyes with a scowl on her face. “Me too, you should pay me as well, for my trouble.”
It was probably a dick move, tricking someone who’d been raised in a mad scientist lab to do shit against cultural norms for his own entertainment. Bobby got that, even had the good grace to feel bad about it sometimes. But Laura could always use for a little more loosening up, and besides, Bobby figured it would be worse to treat her differently than he treated the rest of his friends. He would’ve done this kind of thing to Dani, too, or to Illyana or Rahne. Doing it to them and not doing it to Laura? It would set her apart. And she would notice. She would recognize that she was being treated differently, and that was never a good feeling.
And, on top of all that, Bobby was kind of a dick.
He was still grinning, even as she spoke with fire in her tone. It wasn’t like Bobby had ever been afraid of a little heat, right? “Really? Then maybe I won’t get it lifted. We can sneak in with fake mustaches instead. It’ll make for a fun afternoon.” His grin only widened when Laura continued, shrugging. “You can’t believe it, huh? You’ve, like, met me, haven’t you?” He huffed a surprised laugh when she tried wringing him dry, brows shooting up. “You’re trying to get money out of me? You’ve been spending too much time with those X-Factor kids. They’re bad influences, all of them.” He paused before adding, “Okay, not Shatterstar. But Rictor is a heathen.”
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blastcd:
Everyone has left the party by now, and there was still plenty of cake left somehow despite the number of guests that attended. His family was all here at Roberto’s place, all doing their own thing. The youngest of his siblings asleep on one of the chairs, cuddled up under a blanket. While the rest of his brothers and sisters seem glued to their phones while a movie is playing on the television. Sam feels like it was alright to leave the room, and finds his mother sitting in the kitchen with Josiah asleep in her lap while she flipped through one of her magazines that she bought at the airport. “Hey, mama.”
“There’s my sweet boy, ah’ve been meaning to talk t���you.” Her hand gestures to the seat pulled out next to her, and who was Sam to say no to her? He doesn’t know where Roberto went, maybe doing his skincare routine. “Why haven’t you told him?“
The question isn’t what Sam expects to be asked, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. “Ah don’t know, mama. Ah don’t think ah’m his type, an’ he’s mah best friend. Ah don’t want to embarrass myself.”
His mother closes the magazine, and both hands focus on holding her grandson who’s in a deep sleep after all the excitement from today. “Sweetheart, ah’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Now go and talk to him.” Sam nervously pushes his fingers through his hair, but knows that it does him no good arguing — mothers always know best after all.
“Mama —“
“Ah can’t make you, but you should.” It wasn’t just her words, but the expressions his mother will give when offering advice that can really make you feel it. Sam stands up from the table, and nods while heading up to his best friend’s room. He knows the place is a full house right now, but at least there was privacy here. His hand knocks on the door a few times. “It’s me, ‘berto.”
Once allowed inside, Sam closes the door behind him because his siblings are all very nosy — Joelle especially. “Ah can take them t’their hotel soon. Ah don’t know how ta thank you for everythin’ you did today. Josiah had th’ best time. Can ya believe he’s four? Ah don’t know where th’ time went honestly.” Sam sits down on the edge of his best friend’s bed, looking over at where Roberto was in the room.
“Ah have one more thing ah NEED ta tell you if that’s alright.”
[ @solarsunspots wanted a josiah birthday starter! ]
It was a good party. Roberto had known it would be, had planned meticulously to make it so. After his breakdown in Sam’s general direction during the Enchantress’s literal reign of terror, he figured he owed it to his best friend to give him something decent, something gentle to make up for his quiet desperation during the days of fear coursing through his veins. He’d wanted to give Sam something back, and he had. It was a good party. Bobby had always been good at those.
Leaning against the bathroom counter, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was the only thing he was good at. He wasn’t a supervillain. He wasn’t his father, even if that potential still existed within him. He wasn’t necessarily bad. But he didn’t know if he was good, either. It didn’t come naturally to him the way it did for Sam or for Dani. Bobby had always had to work at it. He had to make himself be the sort of man who could act as a hero, had to force himself to be decent. But this? The guy who threw an elaborate party for a kid so young he probably wouldn’t remember it very well, the guy who threw money at the people he loved to make them love him back? That was easy. That came naturally. Maybe that was who Bobby was, at his core. Not a villain, not a hero. Just a rich man desperate to be loved.
Sighing, Bobby pushed himself away from the counter, not meeting his own eyes in the mirror as he walked back out into the bedroom. The bed was made, but he hadn’t made it. He didn’t know who had. That said a lot about him, didn’t it? He stared at the comforter for a moment, lost in the pattern until a knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Shaking his head, Bobby plastered on a grin as he pulled the door open. The expression softened into something a little more real at the sight of Sam standing there, and he stepped aside to grant his best friend entrance to the room.
“They can stay as long as they want,” he offered, walking over to the desk to sit in the chair. “And you don’t have to thank me. He’s my godson --- I want him to have the best party ever.” He huffed a quiet laugh, nodding his head. “Seems like just yesterday you were telling me Izzy was expecting.” And how jealous he’d been with the news. He’d known he would love Josiah long before the boy was born, knew Sam’s son would become the most important thing in the world to him the moment he knew of his existence, but he’d been so jealous. Why did Izzy get to hold him like that? Why did he love her, when Bobby was right there? He’d felt a little sick in the moment, nauseous and angry and ecstatic all at once. And later, when Sam and Izzy didn’t work out, he’d ached for his friend and he’d hated himself for the relief that rose up in his chest at the news.
His eyes darted up to meet Sam’s when he spoke, tension tightening his smile around the edges. “Ominous,” he commented with a lightness he didn’t feel. “What’s up? You’re not moving back to space, are you?”
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shattcrs:
It was always interesting to learn about the different upbringings that influences his teammates growing up. Everything that they went through didn’t seem real at first, almost like Shatterstar couldn’t understand that children actually got to grow up with FAMILIES. He thought this was a concept only shown on television programs. If any of it was true then where was his parents? Why didn’t he get to experience LOVE and AFFECTION? This was the thought process Star had growing up, which isn’t what any ten year old should have been thinking about. Eventually Shatterstar learned better, finding out the truth behind what happened to his parents. He didn’t know what jealousy felt like, so that’s not typically an emotional that’s there with him. Star just likes to have his friends talk about their childhood since he never had one. Not in the same way.
“All I have is my leather outfits and a few sweaters Cyclops helped me pick out. I think it would be wise to have more options. While my pants might look good on me, I’m not sure if they are appropriate for taking Rictor on dates.” Shatterstar says this with a smile, but doesn’t know how he would ever really repay Bobby for being so kind. “You let me know when would be the best time to do this whole fashion experience. I’m free right now, but I don’t know what your plans are.” The two of them were so different yet maybe could be closer now that Star was more in touch with his emotions than when they were kids. “I will let you know so you can cheer me on and film it.”
Family was a complicated concept, one that Roberto had always had mixed feelings towards. Even when he was a child, before his father’s morality was brought to light, things hadn’t been clear-cut for Bobby. His mother was absent. She was busy, she was traveling the world, she was doing amazing things, and he often wondered if she remembered him at all. It wasn’t a fair question to ask, wasn’t a valid fear to have, but as a child the only thing he’d understood was that she wasn’t there. Other children had mothers that held them close while his was halfway across the world digging in the dirt. He’d had his father, and he’d known he was lucky for it even when the man left him with nannies and house staff more often than not, even if he showed his love largely through buying things. He’d come to Bobby’s football matches every now and then, and that meant something. Bobby had desperately clung to the idea that it meant enough. After all, what right did he have to want more when there were people with nothing? Shatterstar had grown up with no mother or father, no bank account to keep him warm. Bobby had been lucky. He’d been really, really lucky. He kept telling himself that.
“Dude,” he said lowly, “you let Cyclops dress you? You definitely need more options. You need so many more options.” He laughed at the mention of dates, nodding his head vigorously. “Uh, yeah. If you go out on dates with Rictor in your leather pants, somebody’s gonna look at your ass. And I like New York best when it’s not a crater.” Mentally, Bobby took a moment to catalog his plans for the day. There was a meeting at da Costa International that he ought to make an appearance at, but it wasn’t for hours still. That left plenty of time for a Queer Eye session with Star. “I’m free,” he decided with a brief nod. He broke into a grin at Star’s promise. “Sweet. We’ll put it on TikTok. And maybe not tell Sam.”
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ofmagikandlimbo:
Death was never easy, dying though, that was easy, at least for Illyana. Being the one who died had been easy, in her mind death was always harder for those left behind, people like Bobby. Three years ago she had overexerted herself while using her magic, she should have stopped a long time before she had but then Bobby might not be here now, and to her that was worth it, her dying was worth it to save his life and she would do it all over again without hesitation. Dying was easy, being left behind was hard… coming back from the dead was something else entirely. Coming back from the dead was… horrible, it was better now after her fight against the Amazon but she would never be the same, but even with all that, she didn’t regret what she had done, even if had known everything that came after… her decision would not have changed, there was nothing that would make her regret dying to save someone she cared about, someone she considered family, to her it was all worth it to save Bobby’s life.
She couldn’t help the small smile at his words, because of course Bobby would say something like that. “Bobby, it’d be a shame if you died not long after I come back wouldn’t it” she said as she walked over to him, to her grave, so that she was now standing in front of him.
Bobby never meant to become the sort of man people died for. It was a nice concept, perhaps, to be loved so completely that people would lay down their lives for yours. It was something he might have thought of once or twice as a child, when his father was pulled away by constant phone calls and business briefings and his mother was out of the country more often than in it, but in practice it was a terrible thing to be. He remembered the first time it happened, watching Juliana move between him and a loaded gun. He remembered holding her as she bled, remembered the way his hands felt sticky for weeks after the fact, as if the blood was still there, as if it had made its way under his skin, as if he’d never be free of it completely. He remembered waking up in a cold sweat every night for years with her name on his lips, with the ghost of her weight in his arms. He remembered wondering why he’d survived when she hadn’t. He remembered thinking she’d made a mistake.
It was the same with Illyana. When she’d died for him, when she’d pushed herself passed the point of breaking because Bobby couldn’t watch his own back, a part of him had been flung back to that warehouse. His mind had flashed between seeing Illyana drop and seeing Juliana crumble, and he’d always thought it might be sort of cool to be in two places at once but it wasn’t. It hurt, felt like he was being torn apart at the seams, like his limbs were being pulled in different directions and something was going to break eventually. Juliana had died for him and Illyana had done the same and he hadn’t deserved it either time. It was a terrible thing, being the sort of man people died for. It was even more terrible when you weren’t the sort who deserved that level of devotion.
But this... This was just cruel. Seeing Illyana now, standing above her own grave? It was worse than most of the dreams he’d had. At least the usual nightmares made their nightmarish nature known to him. At least some part of him tended to understand that he was sleeping when he found himself back in the battle where she’d died or leaning against the hall of the warehouse where Juliana’s blood stained the floor. The worst nightmares, Bobby decided, were the ones you didn’t realize were nightmares until it was impossible to ignore. Those hurt the most.
“You’re not back,” he said flatly, because she wasn’t. This sort of thing happened to X-Men, but they weren’t X-Men. They were an offshoot team, a group of misfits who’d clung to each other until there was nothing left to cling to. They didn’t get Phoenixes or second chances. “This is a stupid nightmare. The least you could do is yell at me, you know. You usually yell.”
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goldenavcnger:
Money didn’t solve everything. It was a sentiment that Rhodes had laughed at, the first time a drunk Tony spouted the words of his father lying upside down on the bed in their dorm room in MIT, staring up at the ceiling that was spinning above him. It might not solve everything, Rhodes had said, rolling over to join Tony in his staring, but it would fix a hell of a lot. Tony understood that sentiment, too. There were a lot of issues that Tony never had to think about, a lot of problems that never weighed on his mind. But he was still taken in Afghanistan. He was still betrayed by his godfather, and every board member since. He still let down Pepper and Rhodes, over and over again. He still didn’t know how to be what Peter needed. His father still hated him, right until his dying day, and Tony was never enough for his mother to leave with, never enough to fill that hole inside Maria Carbonell with something tangible.
Bobby had his problems, too. Money didn’t solve the fact that he was a mutant. It didn’t solve the fact that he was from the ‘wrong’ side of the border. It didn’t solve the fact that as things went down, people at the top were looking for scapegoats and numbers, and that was exactly what they found with him.
“Flashbacks to the age where soldiers were decent and the fight was black and white?” Tony suggested. “Or maybe he wants to go back to the good old days where the army was the army and what they said went.” Talking about Ross in any capacity wasn’t Tony’s idea of a good Saturday afternoon, but it was all that he could manage to think about, lately. He walked over to his liquor cabinet, looking over at Bobby with a raised eyebrow. “Want anything?” he asked, before pouring himself a healthy glass. “Things have been heating up a little since you were gone. I’m guessing you got the welcome package when you came back over, huh?”
Few people could really understand what it was like to come from everything and still feel like you had nothing. It wasn’t a topic Bobby often broached with Tony, but the camaraderie was there all the same. Bobby didn’t have to tell Tony how many nights he’d looked up to the stands after kicking the winning goal in his football match to find only Juliana’s apologetic smile staring back at him, knowing she’d tell him after the crowds died down that his father had a call he couldn’t afford to miss, that he’d really wanted to stay but had something more important come up. (His mother’s absence, of course, never needed explaining. Bobby had always known he came second to her work. She’d never made a secret of that.)
For so long, Juliana had become the only constant in his life. It had been a lot of pressure to put on a relationship between teenagers, a heavy weight to stack on the shoulders of a thirteen-year-old girl, but Bobby hadn’t had anywhere else to rest it. Juliana was all he had until she wasn’t, was there until she was bleeding out on a dirty floor with a bullet meant for him making its home in her ribcage, tearing her lungs apart with each breath she drew. Bobby had other people now, had the New Mutants and X-Force and Tony in a way that was odd from time to time, but he’d never be able to get Juliana’s dying breaths out of his mind.
“The second one,” Bobby replied with no hesitation. “Definitely the second one. That dude has a serious superiority complex --- and that’s coming from a guy once described as the ‘textbook definition’ of a narcissist.” It was a descriptor Tony had probably had tacked to his name at some point, too. It was one neither of them had really earned, if you knew them well enough to dig passed the mask. Bobby and Tony had always hated themselves in the same quiet way. “Sure,” he nodded at the offer, walking over to lean against the cabinet. “Ah, yeah. The whole ‘sign our paper or you’re not welcome in our super great country’ spiel. Ross gave me the rundown himself --- made me feel all kinds of special. You know, one of his lawyers asked if I needed a translator present. Gotta love politics.”
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“We’re rounding into the perfect opportunity for you to generate some of that lifelong global goodwill you’ve craved your entire life.”
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Roberto da Costa: I'm the responsible one in this friendship.
Sam Guthrie: You literally just lit the kitchen on fire.
Roberto da Costa: Yeah, and I take full responsibility for that.
#(𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊. || sam)#(𝖎'𝖒 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖙 𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘. || inspiration)#(𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖓 𝖑𝖊𝖙 𝖒𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖍. || crack)
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New Avengers #18 (2016) Written by Al Ewing
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