#he wants to be seen as a “relatable hot billionaire” so bad

[thegetdownrebooter]

I mean I feel like it would come from a genuine place of caring about Roman and recognizing that this is a positive change and also perhaps subconsciously awakening his own repressed gender feelings, but even then it would still be very uncomfortable and that internalized bigotry would definitely not go away. Also even if he could get himself to outwardly treat her as a girl Kendall would still only ever really see her as his weird gay little brother, while also just being more directly misogynistic at her.

no yeah, even if ken "accepted" roman out of love for his sister then it would still be uncomfortable to watch because ken hasn't (and maybe never will) unlearned logan's prejudices so it would be him like, performing generic lip service and being the 1# ally for roman, however it would come across as performative and fake (because it is) and as you said he would be outwardly misogynistic towards her.

Even then he would still "slip" either by misgendering her or calling her a homophobic slur.

But like, even in a scenario where they could get to the point of him outwardly treating roman as a woman then he still wouldn't be able to mentally see her as anything other than his "weird gay little brother" .

[catxsnow]

LET’S HAVE A BABY B.W.

Request: hi idk if ur requests are open but i saw ur post for bruce wayne! can you do a bruce wayne x reader where they take young damian to a school fair or event and they get to watch him be a kid and then bruce is like "fuck it let's have another kid" and it's all fluff and lovey idk it just seems so sweet ily.

Warning: fluff

A/N: This was just... the cutest fucking request... Thank you for sending it in I loved writing it 

GIF not mine

Word count: 1.9k

Damian Wayne might not have been the best at people skills, but he sure as hell was one amazing soccer player. After you and Bruce had him enrolled in school, you thought it was a good idea for him to join a sports team as well. He was already so athletically built, it made sense for him to do something fun with it.

So, as much as he grumbled about having to join a stupid team to waste his time and lessen his activities as Robin, he found himself enjoying the sport. It was a good way for him to let out his frustration without someone getting maimed or injured (mostly). And even though he didn't like his teammates that much, he tolerated them enough that he could learn from them.

It was great to see him enjoy himself so much. Ever since he arrived at your home, you didn't see him have fun very often. He was always a serious boy and as much as you tried to make him feel welcomed, he was always so cold. Attending his soccer games would at least show him some support - he appreciated it even if he didn't show it.

It took a long time for Damian to finally warm up to you. Once he did though, there was no stopping his unconditional love for you. If anyone dared to insult you, or the press put a bad word towards you, he was there to make sure that they knew that they were wrong. He wanted everyone to think of you highly.

You and Bruce had gotten married not long after he told you that he was Batman. He knew that he didn't want to spend his life with anyone else other than you. You supported him in his decisions, cared for him when he needed you the most, and no matter what the city of Gotham or his own friends thought of him, you were there with him threw it all.

Bruce wasn't perfect, you knew this. He had made lots of mistakes in his life but if there was one thing that you admired most about him, it was that he always was ready to learn from them. Bruce was the love of your life and no matter the kind of mistakes he made, you loved all of his flaws.

On Saturday morning, you, Bruce, and Damian were all loaded up in one of your many cars to take him to his soccer game. While Damian sat quietly in the back, you could tell that he was buzzing with excitement. You never expected him to enjoy the sport so much, but you were glad that he did.

Bruce kept one hand on the wheel and reached over to intertwine you fingers with the other. He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. After years of being together, he still craved to touch you in any way possible. In public, he was always grasping your hand or you would have your arm looped around his.

Never in your life would you have thought that the great Batman would have such a need to be close to the one he loved. You guessed that he had already had so many close calls with the people he cared about that he wasn't willing to risk you getting close to the same fate. Bruce loved you more than he had ever loved before.

You were the person that drove him to be better. You were the reason that he got up in the morning. You were the reason that he pushed himself so hard to keep this city safe.

As soon as the car was parked, Damian leaped out of it with his duffel bag over his shoulder and was already running towards the field. You couldn't help but giggle at his excitement.

"Did you ever think Damian would get so excited about something so... normal when he arrived to the Manor?" You asked Bruce as the two of you got out of the car. It was a beautiful sunny day out and you couldn't be more happy to be outside to enjoy it.

"Not even close," Bruce shook his head. He grasped your hand once more as the two of you walked over to the bleachers set up for all the other parents. "I think you changed him a lot. He's so much more easy going then he once was. He looks up to you in ways that he'll never look up to me."

"Guess that's the motherly instincts inside me," you beamed up at him. Bruce stopped walking to kiss you. The eyes of all the other parents were gazing at you and those of them that weren't, certainly were now. As much as you loved Bruce Wayne, you didn't love his publicity and fame. "Everyone's watching us."

"Good," Bruce smirked. He was never shy when it came to showing his love towards you. After being the billionaire playboy for so long, he was used to having people stare at him with girls on his arm. Now, he had his beautiful wife and the only person that he ever truly fell in love with to show off.

"Come on, my love," you tugged on his hand before he could make even more of a scene. The two of you sat right at the front and away from anyone else. Sunglasses rested over your eyes from the glare of the hot sun. "I sometimes miss being so normal like this," you admitted to him.

The life you lived before meeting Bruce was a humble one. He was never used to wondering if bills could be paid that month or having to take the bus to work. Living a life of lavish made you forget your roots sometimes. Being able to sit on the uncomfortable metal bleachers with all these other parents made you remember what it used to be like.

"You're free to leave me any day," Bruce joked. You smacked his chest lightly. He knew that there wasn't a chance that you would ever leave him. You loved him too much to even consider it.

The whistle from the ref blew and the game started. Damian was on the field, his jersey tucked into his shorts and his socks so high they nearly covered his knees. He looked like a regular kid out there. It was a small bit of life that you wished for him. The concentration on his face and the hint of a smile on his lips told you and Bruce that he was enjoying himself.

"We should take him out for ice cream after, it's hot out today," you offered. Gotham city was never kind with its weather, the days that it was truly nice out were the days that you would never be caught inside. Even when Bruce refused to leave his cave and enjoy the son.

"You mean, you want to go get ice cream later," Bruce raised an eyebrow at you. He knew you too well. You shrugged, pretending like you had no idea what he was talking about. Bruce only rolled his eyes at you, but agreed. "We can go, only if Damian wants to." You pouted at his response.

If there was one thing that Bruce Wayne couldn't resist, it was your pout. The second that your bottom lip stuck out, he swooped down to kiss you. "Fine, we'll go either way," he changed his mind. You grinned at him.

Bruce's eyes darted over to the field. Damian had gotten the ball and was darting down the field all while managing to dodge all the defense. He had been bumped up a league when he tried out for the team, it wasn't fair to the other kids with his skills. Even now, he was managing to dodge and weave with all kinds of miraculous tricks that he had never learned during practice.

Damian had passed all the defense and was closing in on the goalie. He was incredible, it was like nothing could stop him. Even the goalie looked nervous as he approached. With a final move, Damian kicked the soccer ball right in the net with it just barely missing the mitts of the goalie.

"Whoo!" You stood up and cheered, unable to contain yourself. "Go Damian! That's my son!" The words passed your lips before you could stop them. Damian wasn't your son, he never referred to you as his mother and you never called him your son before. Damian had a mother, even if she was a terrible one.

You expected Damian to look over at you with a scowl on his lips at your cheer. However, when he locked eyes on you, with his father looking up at you with pride, he couldn't help but beam a smile at you.

Damian ran back to his team, accepting the hi-gives that they were giving him. You might not have been his mother, but hearing you say that he was showed how much you cared about him. It didn't matter if you weren't related by blood, you cared more about him than his real mother did.

You sat back down in your seat with a sheepish look on your face. Bruce grabbed your hand once more, this time playing with your wedding ring. He was just as surprised as you were to call Damian your own child. It had a nice sound to it though, one that he could get used to hearing.

"I'm sorry," You mumbled.

"For what?" Bruce furrowed his eyebrows at your sudden apology.

"Damian isn't my son. Thalia is his mother, I know that," You sighed. Bruce threw his arm around you shoulder and kissed the top of your head. There was no reason for you to feel bad about this. Damian was obviously pleased by your affection, you had nothing to worry about. Yet, you did.

"Let's have our own baby," Bruce suddenly stated. He had adopted so many kids that he always just assumed that you were content with the family you had been given. However, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he would love to have a little kid with both your genes in their veins.

"What?" You asked, shocked by his offer. He never spoke of wanting his own kid to raise. Damian was unexpected, he didn't even know about him for over a decade. You always assumed Bruce was just too busy to have an infant to take care of as well.

"Let's have a baby," Bruce said once more. The biggest smile that he had ever seen lit up your face. Your hands grasped the side of his face and you pulled him in for a kiss, not caring that everyone was watching you once more. "I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Bruce," You grinned. The idea of having your own child with him excited you more than anything else. Taking care of Dick and the others was always something that you loved, but it wasn't the same as having your own child. You never got to see them born or their first steps.

There was no one else in the world that you wanted to have a kid with. Bruce was the love of your life, with his flaws, his crazy life, everything.

"Let's get started on that tonight."

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Door No. 16 - Snowball fight

Fandom:  DC Pairing: Jason Todd x reader Word count: 580 Request: For the prompt thing, 16 (snowball fight), Reader x Jason, maybe the batfam get in the fight too? A/N: You won’t get this until you’ve read it to the end, but I desperatly wanted to hang “But he’s a Billionaire” at the end, it would’ve ruin the mood a bit tho, so just keep in mind that I had that joke please

You had been having a very interesting conversation about the origins of different Christmas related myths and folklore stories with Tim when it hit you ice cold. Quite literally. You felt something wet and cold make contact with your cheek and before you knew what had happened you heard a familiar voice yell out in happiness. In the matter of a second you were turned around and looked at your boyfriend annoyed, very much not happy with the fact that he had just soaped you in snow. “Really Jason? Childish much?“ “Oh come on babe,“ he smiled - or rather smirked if you were honest - and started walking over to you from where he had spoken with Dick earlier, “Too cool for a little snowball fight?“ Groans came from all around you at that bad joke and you just rolled your eyes and turned back to Tim. “If you‘d excuse me for a second,“ you whispered and turned around, heading back to the manor. “Babe, it was just a dumb prank, don‘t be mad now,“ Jason whined, thinking that you were leaving because of his snowball and he turned around to his brothers for help when suddenly a cold shudder went down his spine. Again, quite literally. He turned to you open mouthed, shocked at the snow that was now running down the inside of his jacket and his sweaters. “Oh, you‘re so in it now,“ he laughed and started charging at you, causing you to run away just as gleeful as him, your facade of annoyance long gone. In one quick motion he scooped some snow up from the floor and aimed at you, but you were prepared and quickly ran away, causing the snowball to widely miss it‘s target (a thing that you‘ll tease Jason about for just about every) and land straight in Damian‘s face. When you, Jason, Tim, Steph and Cass realized what had just happened, everything stopped for a second and all of you were staring at Damian, expecting him to pull a dagger out of somewhere and start massacring everyone in a two mile radius. The only one who seemed to be completely unworried was Dick who began laughing out loud like he had never seen anything more hilarious in his life. The smile was whipped off his face when a snowball with just enough force to literally throw Dick onto his behind landed in his face, courtesy of a very smug Damian. Suddenly all went wild and everyone was throwing snowballs at the others. Sometimes in the fight you had lost sight of your dearest Jason, only to be faced with him - a snowball in each hand - when you went to search cover behind a bank, not having seen him. “Babe, listen, why don‘t we team up?“ you tried to save yourself, but the smirk on Jason‘s face told you otherwise. “You know, I still gotta get revenge for my wet sweater.“ „NOOO!“ you squealed and tried to run away, but Jason had already dunked both snowballs down the back of your neck and under your jacket and both of your sweaters (you really didn‘t want to be cold). As you wiggled around uncomfortably at the cold wetness running down your spine, Jason wrapped his arms around you and held you close, keeping you from running away. “You know, both of us could use a hot shower now and Bruce told us to save some water, so why don‘t we take that shower together?“  

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Becoming A Stark? (1) Peter Parker X Stark! Fem Reader

A/N: This will eventually be a Peter Parker X Stark! femReader. However, there was backstory needed so Peter won’t be introduced until Chapter Six. This takes place after Iron Man 3 but before AOU. However time is wishy washy and will pass in weird ways so lol opps. Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Word Count: 3073

Warnings: Swearing

You feel it in your soul that you will hate Tony Stark for the rest of your life. It doesn’t matter that you’re related to him. It doesn’t matter that you’re his daughter. He ripped you from everything you’ve ever known. You were happy living with your grandparents. Sure they were getting up there in age, but you were happy. You had a life, you had friends, hell you had been working on moving forward with your crush and were hoping to have a date to homecoming this year. But all of that was ruined the day that Tony Stark waltzed through your front door. You can’t help but think back to that interaction. 

“Nana, who’s this?”

“Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, philanthropist, Iron Man, to name a few things. I’d offer a hand but that’s not something I normally do. I guess, maybe I should due to the circumstances but…” It’s not the first time you’ve seen his face. The Avengers have saved New York a few times, but it is the first time you’ve seen him up close. The dark haired stranger trails off and you’re put off by his attitude alone. Why was someone this stuck up standing in your living room? So instead of saying anything, you turn your head back to your book. Tony decides to take a seat at the opposite end of the couch and tries again. “What are you reading?” 

Instead of answering, you just hold up the book and let him read the cover. Once and Future, spelled out on the spine of the book that you had removed the book jacket from while you read. “Y/N, maybe put the book down for a few minutes. I think Mr. Stark-”

“Tony is fine.”

“I think Tony and you need to discuss something.” You hesitantly pick up the receipt you had been using as a bookmark and slide it into the book, not wanting to leave Ari Helix behind, but you wouldn’t be rude to your Nana on a good day. On a day that you had trudged through the snow in your converse, maybe, but not on purpose.

“I don’t know him. I don’t think we have anything to discuss.”

“You’re right, we don’t know each other yet, but I’m hoping that will change with everything that’s going to happen.”

“What’s going to happen?” You can feel your eyebrows fall towards your eyes as you feel as though something is about to change without your permission.

“Well Y/N, I’m… I’m your dad.”

“Bullshit.” You say quickly. “Tony Stark doesn’t have kids. And if he did, there would have been a fucking gossip blog screaming about it already.”

“Well you definitely have my mouth if nothing else.” Tony adds with a chuckle. 

“I don’t have anything of yours, because you’re not my dad. I never want to see you again. Get the fuck out.” You push off the couch and turn to run off to your room.

“See that’s going to be a little tough seeing as you're supposed to come live with me.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” You turn on your heels, the anger building quickly. You’ve always been a bit of a hot head, but in this moment you don’t even try to control your temper. “I have a home, thank you very kindly. I don’t fucking know you. And I’m not looking to find a dad anytime soon.” The words spit out of you before you can stop any of them. 

“See the thing is, you’re fourteen and I’m your dad. Custodially, you’re supposed to live with me.”

“See the thing is,” you mock before continuing, “You didn’t care for fourteen years, so I don’t give a shit what you think you’re supposed to be doing custodially.” You can’t help but add air quotes around the word custodially. It burns as it leaves your lips. He hasn’t cared about you for fourteen years, why start now? 

“That’s because I didn’t know you existed Y/N. I found out about you twenty four hours ago and I’m stepping up now.” The words leave his mouth in an exasperated tone, but he doesn’t raise his voice.

“How?”

“How what?”

“How did you find out about me?” 

“Your high school.”

“What?”

“When you registered for school they had your birth certificate. They needed more information. Since it listed me as your father, they reached out to Nat- to my assistant. It was quite the shock to me that my child’s school was reaching out to me, since I didn’t know I had a child but the timing adds up and looking at you, it makes a lot of sense.”

“You were listed on my birth certificate?” This question was aimed at your grandparents more than at Tony-your father.

“We didn’t know if it was true or not. Your mom was in a bad place when she had you Y/N. So we had to take everything she said with a grain of salt. Was she beautiful and loving and did she love you? Yes completely. But did a lot of what she said during that time make sense? No, not at all.” Your nana says as she sits down on the couch, rubbing her knee. It’s probably another bad day. If you leave, who will make sure Nana and Pops are ok?

“I can’t go with you.” You cross your arms as you speak to Ton-your father.

“Why not?” His eyebrow raises over his square glasses.

“‘Cuz someone has to help Nana and Pops around the house.”

“I’ll make sure there’s a nurse helping them. Or better we can move them into a nursing facility where they don’t have to go up and down a bunch of flights of steps all the time.”

“Why would you do that.” The question came out as a demand, especially since you don’t want to believe this man that’s taking you away from the only family you’ve ever known would do something… nice.

“Because they’re your family. I’m not heartless. Well I guess that depends on what your belief on science is and arc reactors are, but technically I do still have a heart underneath all of this.” He points to where you know there would be metal and lights under his suit. “But for right now, we need to focus on getting you to the tower.”

“What tower?”

“Avenger’s tower? It’s closer than Malibu? And in less shambles.”

“So you’re moving me from the home that I know and love, but you don’t even live where you’re moving me?”

“I live there a lot of the time. And the Avengers are there most of the time which means you’ll be very safe. But I do have to travel for business.”

“Then I’ll stay where I am thanks.” Tony goes to speak when Wallace goes off. The beeping is only jarring for him since you and your Nana are used to it going off at random times.

“What the hell is that?”

“That is Wallace.” You say, not clearing up anything. Hmmm, your Dexcom says you’re 205 and rising? You could have sworn you had insulin on board. So you unclip the pump from your side and tap the screen to enter your blood sugar. No correction needed. 

“You good babydoll?” Your nana asks from across the living room.

“I’m good. I have insulin on board.”

“You’re diabetic?” Tony asks, putting two and two together.

“Yup. Have been since I was four.”

“And Wallace?” He asks hesitantly.

“Do you honestly care?” You say before rolling your eyes and walking towards the kitchen. Mentally, you slap yourself. You should have grabbed your book. Now you’ll either have to start a new one or wait until your father, you roll your eyes at even saying it, leaves so you can continue your space adventure. Walking down the hallway you enter your room and close the door behind you. All you want to do is shut out the bombshell that was dropped on you and not deal with it. But for some reason you get the feeling that Tony Stark, freaking Iron Man, isn’t one to just let things go. 

Giving up on the idea of starting another book, you open your computer and click your Spotify to start playing the playlist you had paused this morning when you had left to run errands with Pops. You only have two weeks of summer left, so you had spent time getting school supplies and groceries before returning to the apartment. While Hitchin’ A Ride by Green Day starts playing, you open Twitter, hoping for anything to distract yourself. But somehow you find yourself on Tony Stark’s Twitter. It was less narcissistic that you imagined for him. Some retweets about Stark Industries, a few comical tweets about wanting a cheeseburger, and then a tweet from twenty four hours that just said HOLY SHIT in all caps and nothing else. Could that be about you? Closing out Twitter, you find yourself opening up your Tumblr to scroll as Lithium by Nirvana played. Or well you tried to scroll, but a knock on your door interrupts you. 

“Can I come in?” Tony’s head peaks in.

“If I say no will you go?” You say without looking up.

“Probably not. The people in my inner circle say I’m fairly stubborn.”

“Hmm.” Is the only reply you give him. To be fair, a lot of your friends would say you’re stubborn too so it’s not that surprising that your father is too. 

“I know you don’t like it kiddo-”

“Don’t call me kiddo.

“-but we do need to head to the Tower soon. Happy’s been parked downstairs for about as long as he’s allowed to be there.” Tony continues as if you hadn’t said anything. “So how about you pack up stuff you’ll need for the next few days and then I can send Happy and some other people to come get the rest later on?”

“You’re going to send people to pack up my stuff? You know how invasive that is?” 

“Ok, I’ll send you over with them, you can pack it up and they’ll move it to the tower, it’s your choice. Or to Malibu if you’d rather. Well that is once the rebuild is done. Long story. But if you stay at the tower, you won’t have to change schools.”

“Yippee. Everyone at school will get to find out that Tony Stark is my father. How much fun will that be.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I definitely wanted to be ostracized my first year at high school. Thanks for making it even better than I could ever imagine high school being.”

“Look I know this isn’t a win/win scenario, but we can keep your name out of the press until your eighteen if you want. You’re a minor-”

“Yeah, but when the paparazzi see me coming out of the tower, that won’t tip them off.”

“I’ll have Happy drive you. There’s a garage entrance. No one will see you coming or leaving.”

“Great so I just have to give up my freedom. That’s even better than I imagined.”

“Y/N, I know this isn’t what you wanted, or even what you want, but I think we can come up with something that works in the long run. Plus I’m having Pepper, you’ll meet her later, take over SI so I won’t have to do as much. I can try to stay in New York as much as possible. Because no matter what happens, you’re my daughter and I want to know you.” You don’t say anything in response. “I hope one day, you feel similarly.” He says softly.

“I doubt it.” You say honestly. 

“Well even if that’s the case, right now we do need to pack up some stuff to take to the tower for now. Want me to hel-” He starts to pick up a sweatshirt from the end of your bed and you snatch it from his hand as you reply.

“I’ve got it.”

“Y/N, we’re here.” Your father’s voice pulls you from your thoughts and you look at the non descript parking garage that is under what you assume is the tower. The man you’ve figured out is Happy, though he’s the exact opposite of Happy, opens your door and you climb out, knowing that Tony will be behind you. Happy goes to grab your bags from the trunk, but you stop him. 

“I’ve got it.”

“It’s part of my job.”

“I don’t have an issue carrying my own stuff like some people.” From the trunk you lift out your purple backpack, the black rolling suitcase, and the canvas bag that’s filled with all your pump supplies, sensors, and insulin. You follow Tony and Happy towards an elevator. 

“JARVIS take us to the main floors.”

“Certainly sir.” You look up expecting to see a face or something but there’s no one there.

“JARVIS is the AI that runs the whole tower. If you need anything JARVIS is the one to ask. If there’s specific food you want or if you need stuff for school or, well, anything really, just ask JARVIS. I’ll get you added to the levels of clearance that allow you to order anything that you want.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Part of you living with me is that I’m going to provide for you. JARVIS is part of providing for you. I’m not the best at remembering to like grocery shop or send the laundry out so JARVIS helps with that.”

“Send the laundry out? Do you not have a washer and dryer in this whole place?” You cock an eyebrow at how spoiled he sounds.

“We do, but there are other things that take time away from me.” You add continue to do my own laundry to the mental list of things that will make you different from your father. Tony notices the disapproval marked in his daughter’s face and hopes that maybe meeting the Avengers will make up for the disappointment he’s been to her so far. The doors open and in the living room Natasha and Clint are sitting watching a movie while Steve sits in a chair reading a book. “Where’s Code Green?”

“In the lab,” Steve comments, not looking up from the page he’s on.

“That’s Capsicle. Legolas is sitting next to Nat. Big Green is down in the lab and Point Break is currently back at home but you’ll meet him eventually, though hopefully not his brother.” At the sound of being introduced the three in the living room look up and see the girl standing next to Tony in surprise.

“Uh, Tony, are we taking pint size Avengers now?” Clint asks.

“I might be small, but I can kick your knees out just as easily.” You pull on the strap of your backpack, not really wanting to be in this room much longer. 

“Ok, before you kick anyone’s knees out. This is not an Avenger recruit. This is Y/N Stark, my daughter.” Ok taking on his last name was something you were going to have to talk to him about because you were perfectly happy being Y/N Y/L/N, not this Y/N Stark bullshit.

“You have a kid?” Steve asks, genuine confusion spread across his face. 

“I do. I didn’t know until yesterday, but I’m doing the right thing.” You can’t stop the snort that escapes you. Tony looks over at you.

“Sorry,” You say although you don’t mean it. “Can I es- go to my room?”

“‘Yes, you can escape to your room. I’ll show you where it is.” 

“I got it boss. I think you have some people that need answers.” Happy offers. You’re silently relieved that Happy offered to show you. If you had to spend another minute with your dad, you might lose your mind. Happy walks you into the kitchen and opens the fridge as you go past it. You look at him, trying to figure out why he’s opening it. “Tony told me you’re diabetic. You have insulin that needs refrigeration right?”

“Oh, yeah I just didn’t know he told you.”

“Head of security. There’s not much he doesn’t tell me.” Happy turns them towards a staircase leading away from where all the Avengers are. “But you know if you need someone to talk to, or grab a cheeseburger with, there’s things he doesn’t have to know about.”

“I don’t eat meat, but I appreciate it, Happy.”

“He’s going to say you’re not his kid if you don’t eat cheeseburgers.” And for the first time since all of this started, you actually let out a laugh.

Tony’s head turns towards the sound of the laugh. It’s unfamiliar, but he wants to hear more of it. He’s missed fourteen years of your life, but he wants to make things better, he does. He’s just not sure how.

“So you found out you have a kid?” Steve asks, his book forgotten now.

“Yeah, yesterday I found out I had a fourteen year old and then it’s been a whole process of finding out that since she’s mine I have custody technically.”

“So you took her away from all she knows?” Natasha's voice comes softly from the couch. 

“I guess you could say that.”

“Did you give her a choice?” Natasha asks, harsher this time. In her eyes anyone could see the remainders of another girl that was taken from all she ever knew and replaced with a hard boiled assassin.

“In the eyes of the state she doesn’t really have a choice.”

“So you didn’t give her a choice.”

“She’s got a medical condition that was costing her family thousands a month on top of her grandparents’ conditions. I’m helping!” Tony’s voice raises for the first time this afternoon since he tried to stay calm around his kid.

“You think you’re helping, but you’re taking her from the only life she’s ever known and I’m betting you gave her no choice in this. All you might get out of this is four years with her and then she disappears from your life.” Clint says softly, not trying to upset Tony, but also hearing the points that Natasha was bringing up. 

“You’re going to have to work hard to make this worth it to Y/N, Tony.” Steve says before picking up his book.

[oceanselevenism]

If you're still doing them maybe number 12 with both the ocean's siblings and their partners?

hell yeah!! i’ve put it under the cut :)) it is Very Tangentially holiday-sweater-related but it is too long to not post now! hope you enjoy, and happy holidays :))

It’s the first Christmas they’ve spent together in... nearly a decade and a half, actually. The years had flown by, blurring into a mess of run-ins and arguments and you stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, but hey, Danny can’t fault his sister for wanting to make up for lost time. No, he can’t fault her (after all, if she had been the one to fake her death, he’d probably have moved into her house for a week, just to make sure she didn’t do it again) but he can make fun of her, so that’s what he does. “Aw, you really did miss me,” he says when she gives him and Rusty perfunctory hugs on her way into his house (Lou just claps them both on the shoulder, and he’s not sure whether to feel snubbed or relieved). “I can’t believe my dear sister actually cares,” he tells her when she brings him a mug of cocoa, ingredients nabbed from some billionaire in Germany. “Pure family bonding for the whole family,” he remarks when she goes off on a drunken, expletive-filled tangent about the Met Gala’s security over a game of poker (they’ve given up on trying to enforce the no-cheating rule, and he’s pretty sure Lou takes the opportunity to peek at Debbie’s cards). But in all honesty, he can’t keep up the ribbing; it really is good to see her, even if she definitely gets along better with Rusty (she’s told him as much, and right to his face, too) and the third day ends in a bitter, wine-fueled not-argument about their mother and their father and they themselves. But on the fourth morning Danny gets up early (it’s five in the goddamn morning, why the fuck has Lou already left a note on the counter saying gone on a run) to make latkes, and when Debbie comes downstairs she scoops out a dollop of his favorite sour cream instead of her usual applesauce, so unless her latke preferences have done a complete 180 since the last time he’s seen her, they’ve forgiven each other.

She and Lou volunteer to go on a grocery run that evening, and Danny’s glad; he hasn’t had the chance to jump Rusty’s bones in, like, five days (turns out cleaning up for houseguests takes up way more time than anticipated) (hey, the only people they’ve had over in years have been the crew from the Benedict job, and he’s heard Reuben threaten to shit on Turk’s feet, they don’t need to clean up for them). And for a minute, as Rusty pins him up next to the to-be-composted bag that is currently overflowing with potato scraps, the only thought in his head is the usual why didn’t we do this sooner. But then Rusty pulls back-- “Rus,” Danny complains-- and he tilts his head in that We Need To Talk manner. Which would be hot, if not for the fact that Rusty probably wants to talk about Debbie.

“You’re good, right?”

“We were never on bad terms.”

“Liar.”

“Well, hostile terms, maybe,” Danny amends. “But never bad.”

Rusty shifts, adjusting his forearms so it’s more like they’re just two good pals having a conversation three inches from each others’ faces instead of two good pals about to do very unsanitary things in a kitchen, and says, “I think you’re putting too much water under the bridge.”

“What am I, a Dutch engineer?”

“You’re very funny.”

“I know I am. Now, are we gonna--”

The door opens. Danny swears. “We were gone for twenty minutes,” Debbie says. “Are you that desperate?” Danny regrets going for the open-concept first floor, and he regrets it even more as Rusty pushes himself off with an air of utmost nonchalance.

“Here,” Lou says, lobbing a ball of fabric at Rusty. Her aim is remarkable, and Danny almost asks if she ever played softball before deciding he likes his well-being more than teasing his sister’s motorcycle-riding, brass-knuckle-owning girlfriend. It’s fine; next to him, Rusty huffs an amused laugh at the unsaid comment anyway. “Happy Christmas Eve.”

Rusty unfolds the fabric to reveal a truly hideous (and possibly offensive) Christmas sweater. It’s got red sleeves, a green torso, and a large, colorful fruitcake emblazoned on the stomach. Above it, in red and yellow, is text that reads FRUIT CAKE. “I love it,” Rusty says, pressing his lips together in that way that says he’s trying his damndest not to laugh. “It’s perfect.”

Lou opens her coat to reveal her own sweater, hers saying Ho Ho Homo. “I thought the theme was appropriate.”

“And for you, dearest brother,” Debbie says, pulling an atrociously-colored wad of wool out of a paper bag and chucking it at him, “you get the best of both worlds.”

With a mounting sense of horror, he recalls the year that he insisted on putting teal and orange streamers across the house, because it’s Hanukkah and Christmas mixed! That was the last year their parents had lived in the same house; Danny used to joke that it had been the final nail in the coffin for their mother. He pinches an edge of the cloth between two fingers and lets the rest fall open. It’s a Miami Dolphins holiday sweater. A teal-and-orange, festively-patterned Miami Dolphins sweater. Oh, his Boston-bred father would be frothing at the mouth. “We’re in Canada,” Danny says, equal parts shocked and awed. “How the hell did you get this here so quick? We were supposed to be meeting in Quebec until three days ago--”

“Danny, please learn what priority shipping is,” Debbie says. “Now c’mon. Wear it.”

There’s no way he can back out of this. If he refuses, she’ll just play the I thought you were dead card. He’s never regretted a decision more.

He puts on the sweater. Rusty-- his partner, his right hand, the love of his life-- wolf-whistles.

“I’m divorcing you,” Danny announces.

“Don’t worry,” Lou says with a grin, and is that her phone oh fuck she’s got a picture-- “Debbie, take off your coat.”

With the air of someone who has suffered the weight of the world, Debbie shrugs off her jacket. She’s wearing a matching sweater, and the dolphin on this one has a lovingly-embroidered smiling mouth stitched into it. Danny tries very, very hard not to laugh. “Shut it,” Debbie warns him.

“Oh, I’m not saying a thing,” Danny replies.

“We actually did get groceries,” Lou says, turning back to the door, “so--”

“Lemme give you a hand,” Rusty says. “Let these two bask in the joy of their new sweaters.”

“Fuck off,” Danny and Debbie say in unison. Rusty grins, cheery as ever, and leaves Danny’s side to follow Lou out the door.

“Great gift,” Danny says. “I’ll be laughed at by Reuben for the rest of my days.”

Debbie snorts, walking into the kitchen and rooting around in his cabinets. “Well, actually he’d-- wait, please tell me you didn’t, like, have gross old people se--”

“Shut up, Deborah,” Danny replies, feeling his neck heat up. “I’m only two years older than you. And no.” He refrains from adding on a “not this time.”

“Thank God,” Debbie says, pulling a glass out of the cupboard. “Anyway. Reuben’s not gonna laugh at you, he’s just gonna talk about your embarrassing baby stories in whatever groupchat you people have.”

Danny wonders how his baby sister got to be cooler than him. It’s very distressing. “That’s worse.”

“Yep,” she says, putting the pitcher down and picking her now-full glass up. She leans on the wall across from him, sipping her water, and narrows her eyes at him. “Are we, y’know... good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Danny says. Besides the thirty years of vaguely pretending the other didn’t exist.

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Debbie says. “But... I’d just like to make sure. ‘Cause you’re the only not-completely-insufferable blood relation I have.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment; Danny picks at a loose teal thread, trying to think of how best to phrase the thoughts rattling around in his head. “I don’t hate you,” he finally says. “And I don’t dislike you, either. You’re a pretty good sister. And a great thief.”

“I know,” she replies. “I’m not gonna say it back, ‘cause then you’re gonna get an inflated ego.”

“Works for me,” Danny says, grinning a little.

“I guess it’s just... I mean, I let all the old resentment get in the way of, y’know. Having a decent relationship, personally or professionally.”

Danny nods. He’s still got the scar from the time they both went after the Ruby of the Isle; he’d won, but just barely, and only because he had Rusty and she hadn’t found Lou. But at the end of the day, neither of them have tried to kill the other, and they still did grow up together, playing in Atlantic City casinos and building sand castles under the boardwalk. “I think we’re too old for that now.”

“You’re the old one here,” Debbie replies, no bite in the remark.

“Only two years,” he reminds her. “But I did the same thing as you, letting petty grudges get in the way of family, and for that I’m sorry.”

“I am, too.”

“Thanks, Debs.” He frowns. “They’re taking a really long time to get the groceries, aren’t they?”

As if summoned, the door opens, and Rusty and Lou, each with a measly two bags in their hands, walk in. And Rusty has his phone in his hands. “Rus, I swear--”

“Too late,” Rusty grins, as the shutter sound rings out through the living room. “That outfit has already been immortalized.”

“Have I already said I’m divorcing you? I’m divorcing you.”

“Does it count as fratricide if he’s your brother-in-law?” Debbie asks.

“Disproportionate reactions,” Rusty accuses. “Besides, I’ve already sent it to Linus.”

Danny’s eyes widen. “Not Linus.”

“You heard me.”

His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a text from Linus Caldwell himself, consisting of a single thumbs-up emoji and two grinning cats. “You’re all terrible people. Terrible, terrible people.”

(the sweater rusty is wearing is real) (as is lou’s) (and the ocean siblings’)

[occasionalfics]

touch every star (5)

main masterlist | thor masterlist | ao3 | previous | next

Pairing: Thor X Cinderella!Reader AU

A/N: How you do creatively conduct a Cinderella Search in a MCU AU fanfic? You’re about to find out.

Warnings: Lots of angst, a really, really shitty boss, but overall this is probably the most pure fic I’ve ever written? SITWELL IS TERRIBLE HERE, AND USES EXCESSIVE LANGUAGE IN THIS CHAPTER.

Words: 3,225

//

To: [ALL:SI.ORG]

From: todinson@security.si.org

Hello. Hope all is well.

I’m Thor, Director of Security, and I’m writing today to try to find someone. We met in an elevator, and again at the holiday gala, but never managed to exchange names or information. But I have your mask from the gala, and I was wondering if you might be able to stop by the Security offices (#2045) to pick it up.

If not, please respond via this email or a call to my assistant and we can arrange a meeting elsewhere. I ask that you simply describe the mask to me before I hand it over.

Thank you, and best wishes.

Thor Odinson

Director of Security

212-555-4390

todinson@security.si.org

It was the most bizarre email she’d ever read. Maybe she thought so because she knew it was meant for her, but even so, it was still...odd. A little clunky, especially coming from a Director of one of the - if not the - most important departments in the building. She had to stop herself from rewriting it to send back to Thor like she might with Sitwell’s emails to other directors.

After all, that was the only opportunity she ever got around the Accounting department to put her Public Relations degree to use.

Thor Odinson. Director of Security. A busy, important man who was, indeed, way out of her league, had her mask. A man she didn’t know, wouldn’t know, and had already decided not to respond to. Immediately after reading the email, she knew she was never getting that mask back, but she supposed it was for the better.

She’d never be wearing it again anyway. Let someone else claim it, if they could accurately describe it. 

Let someone else get the guy that’s too handsome, too funny, too good for you while you’re at it. 

Her head spoke but her heart yelled. Her chest had been so tight since that chat with Nat and Wanda that it hurt, but she knew things had to be this way. She was not going to strive for someone that never left his office, never asked for her name, and probably never would’ve even looked her way if they hadn’t been the last two people in the building that night.

She was just a secretary - an extremely busy one, once again - and he was friends with Tony Stark.

An incredibly handsome executive director friend of Billionaire Tony Stark - which, she remembered from their discussion of bosses from the night in the elevator, meant that he also worked for Tony Stark. Forgetting about leagues, they weren’t even on the same level, just the same floor.

She could just imagine what her coworkers - and even Sitwell himself - might say if she...dated someone that much higher than her in the company. She’d seen it happen before, with a well meaning Accountant that should’ve been left alone to do as she pleased, and some agent or something from a few floors up. No one shut up about them for weeks; she’d heard the nastiest things about them in bathrooms and break rooms, and Y/N was not about to willingly face the same fate.

She was so convinced of this avoidance plan until Nat texted her. Apparently, Nat’s new beaux was in on the whole ordeal - or at least that was the only way Y/N could imagine that Nat would know about the email. When she told Nat she wasn’t going to respond, despite saying  that she would, the texts turned threatening.

Nat: IS2G IF YOU DON’T GET UR ASS IN THERE AND GET UR MAN I’LL HAVE BUCKY COME DOWN THERE AND DEADASS CARRY YOU TO THE SECURITY OFFICE!!!

Y/N knew that, while Nat was her friend and respected her time and space, she also wasn’t lying. She’d do whatever she could to make this meeting happen, even though Y/N was starting to read the signs that all pointed in the opposite direction. Maybe all they were meant to have was two meetings by chance, and then resume their normal lives. Maybe she was supposed to lose her mask and move on.

Y/N: Nat, i can’t. I’m sure there’s a clause in my contract about interoffice dating or something.

As soon as she wrote it - let alone sent it - she knew it was an excuse. And not even a good one at that. But the shaky feeling in her heart kept her from doing anything about it.

Nat: he doesn’t even work in the same office as you, Y/N! You know who he is and where he is now - GO. TALK. TO. HIM.

She looked up from her desk at the offices across the hall. Security was around the corner, so she couldn’t actually see him from there, but she knew he wasn’t far. His email had made it sound like he’d be in there all day, every day until she came to find her mask. 

It would be so easy…

But then her eyes traveled to the list of chores Sitwell had given her today, and she shook her head. Maybe on her lunch break, if she even managed to take one, she’d head down the hall and try to explain the situation to him. Maybe he’d give the mask back, agree that they shouldn’t see each other again, and move on with his life.

All she had to do was ignore the pit in her stomach at the thought that he might forget about her and she’d be fine.

---

She left a note on her desk that said she was going to pick up lunch, but it was a total farce. As far as she can remember, she’s never lied to Sitwell before, but she doesn’t feel so bad doing it now. He’s done more to deserve it than she can remember.

Without looking to see if Sitwell had noticed her absence, she left the office and started around the corner. Her feet felt heavy, but she moved forward anyway. She had to. If she didn’t do this, Nat would get it done for her, and she didn’t like that idea. Even if she felt like she would never match up to Thor, she wanted to be the one to say so.

She owed herself that much, at least.

She came around the final corner and nearly slammed into a woman she’d never seen before. Stopping short, Y/N caught her breath and looked around the woman, only to find a long, boisterous line of other women leading into the security office at the end of the hall.

She tapped the woman she’d almost run into on the shoulder and asked, “Uh, excuse me, but what is this?” If something in the building was wrong, she needed to know. It did mean she’d have to go talk to Sitwell, but at least she’d have a decent reason to.

The woman just barely glanced at her, but she sounded excited when she said, “The director of security’s searching for a mystery woman! Everyone’s taking their turn trying to win him over because he’s very hot.”

Y/N’s face heated. She almost wished something was wrong. She knew she had nothing to be ashamed of and yet, there she was, unsure of what to say next to this woman, or any of the other women in line, truthfully. Somehow they all thought they had a chance of getting her mask, of talking to Thor and making moves and suddenly, as she glared down the long line of women again, she felt…

Unstable? Unsure?

No. No, what was creeping up her neck and along her arms was 100% insecurity. She had no idea who those women were or what their claims to Thor might be, if they had any, but she couldn’t possibly stack up against all of them. And she’d never make it to his office before her lunch break was over. Waiting was pointless, especially since she really didn’t need the mask anyway.

A thought occurred to her then: who’s to say that he had her mask? He’d asked for the mask to be described to him, and just because she’d lost the metal mask she’d worn that night didn’t mean Thor had picked it up and been saving it since then. Her mask could be anywhere, and she could be standing in line only to be made a fool if the one he has belongs to any of these other women.

Nat would be disappointed in her. Wanda, too. But that didn’t stop the fear and crushing weight of the line of women in front of her from making her feet turn and take her back to her office, where she crumpled her note, threw it away, held her head low for the rest of the afternoon.

---

“Val, please hold the line,” he said over the intercom. His assistant didn’t even answer, just held a thumb up to him through the glass walls of the office before she turned to the first woman in the...very...very long line and gave her instructions.

Thor was tired. All day, he’d been dealing with women hellbent on getting the mask. Or, as Val had suggested after reading his email blast, getting him. All day, he’d been turning women away, sighing as he thought of the mask locked in the bottom drawer of his desk. Between meetings with these women and meetings with other execs and departments, his mind strayed only to one woman.

Her. God, it killed him that he didn’t know her name. He’d hoped she’d have seen his email and, if not shown up to claim her mask, at least replied. But none of the emails that came in about it got the description of the mask right. Some came close, but their descriptions were just off enough for Thor to know they weren’t the girl he’d danced with.

His Elevator Crush. That’s what Val had called her when he’d finally told her - because Val was more friend than assistant, but that was mostly just between them.

Why hadn’t she called him? He’d given her all the information she needed to get in touch. She hadn’t sent a message, hadn’t waited in the line - though he couldn’t so much blame her for that - but she hadn’t done anything to show that she was even interested in him or her mask.

Had he dreamt her up? Had she been a figment of his imagination? That didn’t make sense, given the very real mask in his drawer and the extremely visceral memories of her that kept invading his brain whenever he should be doing work.

Did she...not want to see him? Did she not want answers like he did? Had his mother been wrong to suggest this mode of search?

That much, Thor couldn’t say.

He dragged his thumb and forefinger along his chin, shutting his eyes long enough for her laughter to jingle throughout his cranium. 

A deep ache in his chest told him that he missed her. A part of him wondered how, when he knew so little about her. But another part, a bigger part, was not at all surprised. He’d thought of only her since she’d run from him, regret and sadness in her eyes, he hoped because they’d been enjoying one another’s company and not because she didn’t like him. He hoped beyond hope that he was reading the situations right.

If he wasn’t… He didn’t even want to go there.

All Thor was prepared to do was let himself hope.

---

At the end of the day, just as she was finishing up her list of chores, Sitwell came out of his office. He had his briefcase in hand and seemed ready to leave, but then he saw Y/N still hard at work and stopped. He cleared his throat and approached her desk, putting his briefcase down because, apparently, what he had to say might take a minute.

“Hello, Mr. Sitwell,” she said, attempting to smile. The day had taken a toll on her, though, so the movement felt lazy and uninspired.

Sitwell smirked. He leaned over the desk, holding his tie back to his chest, and tipped his head a bit. “Did you have a fun lunch break today, Miss Y/L/N?” he asked, tone already condescending and awful.

“I, uh. Just went around the block,” she said, but it was just as lifeless as her smile had been. It was clear she was lying, even to her own ears.

“Oh, sure.” He leaned in even more, so close, Y/N leaned away to keep a safe distance. “The poor little secretary went around the block without any of her belongings on the one day a director on the same floor asked all the eligible women to come pay him a visit. Sure. Only…” And yet again, he leaned in, now using the edges of the desk to keep himself steady. “I see right through you. And honestly, I think it’s quite comical that a woman of your station thought you had a chance with Director Odinson.”

Panic set in. This man was too close, both physically and otherwise. But he was missing half the story, probably more, and Y/N was not about to give it to him. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to, because she found herself stunned into absolute silence.

“You’re a secretary. You do my easy work. You’re nothing. No one. And your ambition is beyond your reach.”

She shook her head, but nothing came out. How was she supposed to explain everything? Why would she even bother?

“You listen and you listen well, Y/N. I will not have some clerical whore reaching into the pockets of my peers. You stay where you’re meant to stay or you’ll be out on the street before you can so much as blink, is that understood?”

She shook. Violent shivers overtook her as anxiety coursed, and she was unable to answer. Sitwell smacked the desk, and the hard slap on the wood made her cringe. A pathetic little whimper escaped her as images of the stepmother she’d run from flooded her mind.

Somehow, she always ended up here: deflated, abused, humiliated, and alone.

“I asked you a question!” Sitwell yelled.

Y/N frantically forced herself to nod. She noticed, then, that she was already crying, and her heart sank even lower than it already had. it managed to find a new low in its cavity.

Apparently pleased by his intimidation, Sitwell’s smirk returned. He humphed proudly, then pushed himself up until he looked down at her through dark eyes.

“Remember who you are,” he said. “That I am above you, and I will be believed.”

---

She skipped dinner with Nat and Wanda, and that ticked them off. They automatically knew something wasn’t right.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when they brought dinner to her on a freshly prepared plate, serious looks on their faces even as they calmly asked if their intrusion was okay. They knew Y/N well enough to know she’d never turn them away unless she were sick, but also that she wouldn’t lie to them about being sick even if she wanted to be left alone.

She was too good a friend.

They came in and huddled around Y/N on her bed, watching closely as she picked at the food they’d brought.

“Everything okay?” Nat asked.

Y/N thought about trying to lie to her two closest friends, but the thought didn’t settle in her easily. All she could do instead was shake her head and shut her eyes because if she kept them open, she was going to cry. If she looked either Wanda or Nat in the eyes, she’d lose it.

“What happened?” Wanda spoke up.

If she didn’t want to talk, she knew she could say so. Her friends would let it go, and if they asked again later, she could decide then if she wanted to say anything. But procrastination wasn’t really her style, and letting things sit and muster really wasn’t how she worked. Knowing that, she figured if she talked about it, then she could move on quicker and go about her normal life sooner.

So she told them about the whole day. About the line out of Thor's office, how intimidated she’d been by the women in front of her despite them having said less than sixteen words to her in total. She told them about Jasper Sitwell, too, and they were loud in their objections to his behavior.

“That’s straight up harassment, Y/N!” Wanda said. “You could press charges and-”

But she shook her head. “He’s not worth it. And he’s right - at least in as much as he’s a lot more powerful than I am. I’d never stand a chance against him.”

“You have to quit,” Nat said. “You can’t keep working for that absolute monster.”

“I can’t. I can’t not have a paycheck. I have rent and bills to pay and-”

“We’d take care of that for a while, YN. Don’t stay there like this.” Wanda reached out and gripped her wrist, a softness in her eyes that made her words true and choked Y/N up. “You can let us help you. We want to.”

“If I leave now, he’ll just find another poor girl to do this to.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Nat said. All three of them knew that Nat didn’t have that much to say, but...maybe Bucky did? Maybe, if Y/N wouldn’t go to him for help with Thor (and she wouldn’t, even now), she could trust him with a testimony against Sitwell?

“That man’s been terrorizing you for years, Y/N. This is too far for too long.” Nat wrapped an arm across Y/N’s shoulders and pulled her close, her food all but forgotten. “You deserve better.”

She sat silently for a minute as those words rang around in her head. You deserve better. You. Deserve. Better. No one had...ever said something like that to her. Not before Nat and Wanda.

So she found it hard to believe. Between her stepmother’s abuse and Sitwell’s drilling, all Y/N thought was that she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t hard working or dedicated enough. She was nothing, in Sitwell’s own words.

But didn’t Sitwell lie? Wasn’t he abusing his power by telling her how little she was worth? And, if she was worth so little, why was he keeping her around?

Were her friends right?

At the implication that they were, tears flowed freely. 

Because what if she was worthy? What if she did deserve better than what she’d gotten? What if she wasn’t nothing, but the opposite instead? And what if she believed that she was better, worth more, deserved more and better, and wanted it all?

For a fleeting second, she let herself wonder if Thor was better, more, all that she deserved. But just as quickly, she wrote the possibility off. Maybe she was worthy of her friends and better than her boss at being a human, but that didn’t mean she could reasonably reach so far and expect the best.

There was too much opportunity for her to fall if she went that high.

[loneswaggingranger]

They told him (until they didn’t)

By @loneswagger for @coupdefruita

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker and Tony Stark 

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Avengers Team (MCU)

Word count: 5126

A03 Link

Summary: 

"Soldat."

Soldat. Soldier. That was him. They told him that was him.

He held out his arms, as he had so many times before. "Hail Hydra."

*

In which Tony Stark is somehow biologically related to the Peter Parker of another universe, and how they just have to deal with it.

~

“Soldat.”

Soldat. Soldier. That was him. They told him that was him.

He stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back, eyes forward and not seeing. Yet another mission he would no doubt accomplish flawlessly. There would be another one for him the next day, and the next, and the next. All of which he would obey, because he was a soldier and that was what good soldiers did.

“Mission rundown: Repeat.” His handler’s impassive voice.

“Mission quality: Stealth. Speed to enemy ground at 10 kilometres per second. Reach within 8.5 minutes. Retrieve time capsule in guarded safe. Return to base. Time constraint: 1 hour and 30 minutes,” His throat rasped from disuse.

(Silence, Soldat. There is no use for a soldier’s voice.)

“Mission directive confirmed." His handler waved dismissively. "Carry out."

He held out his arms, as he had so many times before. “Hail Hydra.”

He heard others repeat after him, voices in unison. The sole proof that Hydra forever stayed as one, for if one limb was cut off, two more would take its place.

*

If he were to be honest, Mission quality: Stealth was definitely on his short list of favourites, falling second only to Mission quality: Rest. Far beneath his area of expertise, of course, but still highly preferred over Mission quality: Kill or the dreaded, Mission quality: Maim.

His feet padded quietly against cold concrete, breath slowing to match the current wind directions. Stealth rule #49: Keep breaths in harmony with surroundings, lest it give away your position. He remembered mastering this rule with ease, earning himself an onslaught of jeering taunts for being more of a meditator instead of the soldier he was supposed to be. The hazing stopped once he meted out Stealth rule #50 on ten different individuals the week after. It was the first time his handler nodded at him with acknowledgement.

It was the first time he had seen the need for tears.

He leapt from roof to ground within three swift seconds. Two ropes of webs coiled themselves round the necks of two suited guards just getting ready to react, pulling till he felt the resounding crack of tendons carving nerves. Stealth rule #50: Terminate obstacles quietly, lest it alert others of your presence.

(No tears, Soldat. No tears for the dead, only for the weak.)

He crept over the unmoving bodies, flipping out a slick pin to pry open the pathetically-easy-to-pick lock slung over the metal gates.

Hydra's Spider Mutation Project had excelled beyond expectations, and he was outcome of said success. More soldiers like him would come along, they told him, all to be trained and moulded as he had. Soon, Hydra would have a breed of super-powered mutants at their beck and call, and he would be their pioneer of excellence.

Or so he thought, before waves of acid green swept him off his feet.

*

“Failure is inexcusable, Soldat,” His handler had told him once, when he was but a fledgling fighter on his first mission. “There is no room for failure here, even for you. Especially for you.”

His fingers had twitched at the dangerous dip in his handler’s tone.

“You know what lies ahead if you fail, do you not?”

“Yes, sir.” He'd never disobeyed an order since.

*

( You’ve failed, Soldat. )

The soldier’s eyes snapped open.

“Hey there, sunshine.” A voice. Unfamiliar.

His head whipped up, lips twisting as he considered the unknown man standing inches away from him. His arms lifted upwards in a placating manner, eyes of deep earth meeting his own burnt sienna ones. A strange blue glow burned from the center of his chest.

“So, uh, you’re still Peter Parker, right?”

This was a punishment, wasn’t it? It had to be. Why else would the weapon be removed from his wrists? Why else would the mask be removed from his face? Why else would he be lying on a bed, so exposed and so vulnerable?

“Peter?” The Unknown whispered, sending shivers down his spine.

The Unknown must be handler to his punishment.

“I- shit, you’re really not my Peter, are you?” The Unknown sounded disappointed. He tensed, far too familiar with the consequences of making his handler disappointed. “No matter, all’s good. Just popped in so you’d know that you’re not currently in your timeline and there’s a scientist - two scientists, actually- working on it. You’ll be back sooner than you know it.”

Back, he would be back. He would be back. This would be over soon.

“You getting any of this, kid?”

He nodded.

(Soldiers either do or die, Soldat, no questions asked.)

“Great, good to know,” The Unknown turned away from him, walking to the door with a clipped tone and pained grimace. “Call me if you need anything.”

(There is more to come, Soldat. Always, more to come.)

The door closed with an inaudible click.

*

“He’s a kid, Rhodey,” The Unknown’s voice rang clear one night. “Why would they do that to a kid?”

“I don’t know, Tones,” said another voice, this one less taut and more resigned. “They’re Hydra, they do all kinds of bad.”

I’m Hydra. Part of him wanted to yell, wanted to scream at the ceiling with fists pumping in the air. I can hear everything you’re saying from down here.

But he didn’t, because in that moment, lying on the strange soft bed and hearing voices speak of him as if he wasn’t there, he felt nothing. He was nothing.

*

“Mactep, Mactep, look!” A boy with pale cheeks and jutting bones waved. “My weapon. I made my weapon.”  He held out prototype 92, chest puffing out in pride.

His handler eyed him from above, cold and calculating as he studied the gadget presented.

Run! He wanted to tell the foolish child. Run like you’ve never run before!

“Your weapon, now?” So condescending was his tone. “Pray tell, young Soldat, what does it do?”

In an instant, the gadget was fastened excitedly over his small wrists. Strings of chemical webbing catapulted him from one corner to the next. He swerved, feinted and dodged all the incoming attacks  only lethal enough to test him , smile bright on his face at the impressed whistle his handler gave.

No, you fool. He buried his face into his calloused hands. No. He knew what was to come.

A cacophony of screams and cries, and suddenly the soldier was the one restrained upon metal. The soldier was the one begging for mercy as the weapon drilled into his fragile skin, as pain pulsed through his veins and tampered body. Hot moist flushed out from his eyes, leaving him all the more frightened with his vision now blurred.

Tomorrow, young Soldat, tomorrow, you fight.

He fought. He toppled the weight pinning him down, snarling as his strong fingers pressed against the thud of life against flesh. Soon, there would be only a cold neck beneath his hands. Soon, he would scramble off the body, huddling in on himself, reciting: No tears, Soldat. No tears for the dead, only for the weak like a broken cassette tape out of time. Soon-

“Tony?” Another voice. Another unknown. “I heard a crash, you all right in there?” His iron grasp loosened in shock.

“Just fine, Brucey-bear,” The Unknown coughed out. “Peter fell out of bed. I’m getting him back in, ‘s all.”

He hastily jumped off The Unknown, scuttering away on his knees to put as much distance between them as he could with both of them sprawled on the floor.

“If you say so,” came the uncertain reply, followed by loud thumping footsteps retreating from the door.

A tense silence spread its pointed wings all across the room, honing in on him from all sides. Its feathers resembled the spike of thistles on cactae, except it was way longer and definitely sharp enough to pierce through his lungs. They rendered him breathless, forcing away any semblance of air from his gasping lungs. So this was to be his punishment before death, then?

(This time, Soldat, this time, you must come.)

“Kid? Kid, hey, I think you need to breathe.”

Breathe? What a joke. There was no room for failures like him.

“You are not a failure,” The Unknown was coming closer, arms stretching tentatively towards his strained form, even though he had just been a strangled victim only moments before. “Figures that a Peter Parker from a wholly different universe would still have the same guilt complex mine did. Geez, kid-”

A hand came to rest upon his shuddering back.

“-just breathe, alright? Come on, follow me now: inhale,” An exaggerated breath in. “Five, four, three, two, one.” Paced counting. “Alright, all together now: exhale. See, easy-peasy. Let’s do this again: inhale.”

He breathed as ordered. And then, when the wings vanished and his lungs expanded without needing directive, his own eyes teared up because he had never been held like this before. He had never been soothed with warm hands circling his back, never been shushed so demurely as his stifled sobs increased ever so steeply in volume.

(Pick yourself up, Soldat. You have come.)

“Who are you?” His voice trembled, not heeding the fear smacking his head for speaking without permission. It was as if a dam had broke for words to come tumbling out of him, “Mission operative was compromised, sir. I didn’t know-I-I am a soldier, I know my mistakes. You must-”

“I must not do anything to you,” He flinched at the terseness of his words. He must have spoken too out of turn. “Kid,” The voice fell gentle once more. “I’m Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist at your service. I’m not sure if I exist in your timeline, but- yeah, I definitely do exist. Look at that face. God.” The Unknown snorted a grim laugh.

He didn’t know what face The Unknown was referring to, but he was fairly sure that the Tony Stark in his ‘timeline’ (whatever that meant) was supposed to be son of Howard Stark, former C.E.O of Stark Industries, and alpha opponent in Hydra’s database, also known as Iron Man. This was a known enemy.

But he was in another world now, wasn’t he? Perhaps they were not enemies in this world. Perhaps-

“Then who am I, in your world?” He blurted, hands clamping over his mouth before more beguiling thoughts forced his tongue loose. No soldier were allowed to ask about themselves. Only claim information from the other, never for themselves.

“You?” His shoulders were pressed lightly against that strange blue glow. “You’re Peter Benjamin Parker, finest superhero ever known in town.”

“Superhero? I’m a superhero?” The childish glee bubbling in him was unlike any feeling he’d ever encountered. He felt almost certain that the unknown wouldn’t fault him for it. He was in another world now, after all. “Will you tell me more of your world, sir?”

“In due time, kid. In due time,” He sounded worn, but the arms wrapped tight over his slight frame conveyed volumes. “Also? Call me Tony. I’m not- I’m not Hydra.”

He nodded. He’s never disobeyed an order before.

*

“Peter.”

Peter. Peter Parker. That was him. They told him that was him.

They told him many things. They told him they were trying to reverse time, to bring their world back to what it once was before the Mad Titan (Thanos, they called him) snapped half of their existence away. They told him their machine reacted when he made contact with the time capsule, causing a rift to appear for him to slip through. They told him they had to bring him back.

They also told him that what Hydra did was wrong (He had shut down for days afterwards, refusing to eat until Tony coaxed him to do so with one stern glare. He didn’t believe them. He still didn’t.) They told him that no child as young as him should have weapons embedded in their skin, nor should he be punished for not killing a man. (In fact, they told him he shouldn’t have killed at all.) They told him that they would bring him back to safety.

“Come on, Peter. Blue or green. Make a choice,” Tony folded his arms, making a show of rolling his eyes, though Peter knew what he was doing.

He was giving him a choice. He was giving him many choices lately, be it the colour of his shirt, whether he wanted more meals or not, whether he wanted his mask back or not… he gave him a lot of choices.

(So what will you do now, Soldat?)

“Um, blue, I suppose,” Peter tilted his head to the side. “With a little red as well, please?”

Tony let out a snort. “Sure pal, red and blue walls, coming right up.”

They told him they had to bring him back, and yet he seemed more fixed on making him stay.

“Your choice, kid. I’m not going to judge.”

Peter smiled softly. “I know.”

*

Once, when he had woken to a sky of shimmering ruby and sapphire, he heard voices.

“He’s my what?”

“Your son,” said the big green man. Peter could recognise his booming voice from anywhere. “Aside from the mutated factors, his blood type and genetic makeup matches exactly with yours.”

“But our Peter didn’t-”

“This isn’t our Peter.” An odd twinge at the back of his chest.

(For all soldiers like him must return home some day.)

He was feeling something. He wasn’t sure what it was, though, so he turned to his side and shut his ears, hurtling himself back into a night of endless frights.

*

They gave him time, a lot of time. They gave him time to think how to respond to their words, and when he opted not to, they smiled and said it was okay. It was okay to not answer a question when asked.

They gave him space, as well. He was allowed to lock his room if he felt like it. He was allowed to sit further from them on the dining table because crowded spaces made him feel nauseous. He was allowed space, and was free to roam in it.

They gave him reality, telling him the true happenings of now. They told him the general scheme of things, how Tony’s time machine might be able to generate another rift in his point of time, but it would be exactly at where he left it. They told him that that wasn’t the reality they wanted for him.

They gave him power, so much power. Not the power to lift trucks with a single hand, he’d always had that. He had the power to say no, whenever things became too much. He had the power to point out that minor mistake Tony made in his calculations. He had power to stretch his spine as tall as he wanted it to go.

They even gave him mind, too. They taught him words and how to write them, taught him equations and numbers and everything a kid like him should know. They praised him when he excelled, and helped him when he failed. They taught him that warm hugs were good and backhanded slaps were bad.

But most importantly, they gave him soul. Before, he had been but a mindless soldier, following orders of the handler who trained him. Now, he was acquainted with love and laughter. Now, he knew what it meant to call an identity his own.

They gave him so much, but Peter still wondered when it was that they would inevitably stop giving.

*

Two months, and they still hadn’t found a way to bring him back.

“Correction: We can bring him back.” Tony seethed. “But I am not letting you bring him back.”

Correction: Two months, and they still hadn’t found a way to make Tony agree with bringing him back.

“We have to, Tony,” said the man with golden hair - Captain Rogers, he was called. “He is not from our time. This isn’t right. We can’t tamper with timelines like this without bearing the consequences.”

“You wouldn’t say the same if this was Bucky, would you?”

Captain Rogers’ jaw clenched. Peter sensed a storm brewing.

“T-Tony, I think-”

“Nope, nope, nothing from you,” Tony pointed a finger at him. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say: It’s fine, I can handle it. Send me back, it’s the right thing to do. Well guess what? I’m actually going to say no to this one. No.”

(Every soldier ends as a soldier, surely you must know that by now, Soldat?)

He clasped his hands behind his back, eyes forward and not seeing. “Apologies, sir.”

That elicited a peculiar choked noise from Tony’s vocal chords.

In the end, it was Captain Rogers who sighed and cleared the storm with a light, “We’ll figure this out together, alright?”

The moment Captain Roger’s stepped out of the room, Tony clambered all over Peter, hashing out frantic apologies and elaborated explanations, till Peter finally barked out a howl of laughter because who in the world packed 16 words in a second?

*

“You’re mine, you know that?” Tony asked one day over pie.

“Yeah,” Peter lifted a shoulder, still focused on forking the meat and the crust in one neat lump. “I heard you and Dr. Banner yelling about it two nights ago. Why?”

The big green man seated beside Tony spluttered. The redhead opposite him smirked. (Her name was Natasha Romanov, but she had told him to call her Tasha. Tony said he was the only one who could.)

“Nothing, I just-” Tony shifted in his seat. “I just wanted you to know.”

More like, he just wanted everyone to know. He probably already knew that he knew. Tony was more perceptive than he let on.

Peter noted the disturbed looks Captain Rogers and Tasha threw over their shoulders, as well as the quiet sigh one Clint Barton exhaled. Tony looked strangely at ease after all that, fresh jokes and jibes at the ready.

Yeah, he definitely wanted everyone to know.

Peter discretely rolled his eyes at Tony, earning himself a wide grin in return.

*

There were nights when Peter felt as if he might just lose it. Nights when he heard the shrieks of the poor mafia men whose innards he cleaved, when he saw the glassy gaze of the child he once murdered, when he tasted the metallic tang of blood in the cool air.

It was nights like this, that made Peter wonder: whatever in the world had he done to deserve all this care?

Tony told him it wasn’t his fault, told him that whatever happened happened and there was no deserving to be had. He swathed him in a woolen quilt, one he claimed Tasha to have ‘misplaced’ in his room. His arms had weaved its way around Peter’s torso, folding him tight against the beautiful blue of his chest. Then he whispered, “Do you want to know how I got this?” A finger tapped on the device.

Which was how Peter got himself a night full of stories, how he came to realise that perhaps all lives bore the same regret and guilt, but it all depended on how these lives chose to use these festering emotions moving forward.

Like Tony, who used his guilt and shame, and carved a saviour for all.

*

Tony said movies were imperative in building young children’s mind and that it was criminal for a child to not watch movies.

Peter doubted the idea to a fault. What mind was there looking at one grey cat chase another brown mouse? (It’s Tom and Jerry, Pete’. It’s what they do.) Really, if it were that critical in fostering smart thinking, then why did Tony’s eyes always fall shut 30 minutes into the movie?

“Tony,” Peter jiggled his knee against Tony’s leg that was propped atop his. “The show’s ended. Can we go back to the lab now?”

No response. Huh.

“Tony?” Peter inched closer towards the man, hand shaking his arm gently. That was weird. Tony usually woke at the slightest of sounds. “Tony?” Still no response. Peter gulped, pushing himself further into the man’s space. “Tony? Will you wake up?”

Carefully, he slid his fingers under the crook of Tony’s neck, pressing hard, assuring himself that as long as there was a reassuring thump, Tony’s heart was still beating and he was just asleep. Just. Asleep.

There was no thump.

Sucking in a breath, Peter shifted positions, trying all the pressure points he knew to be signs of life. “Tony? T-tony?” He called. “Are you asleep?”

There was no response. “Tony!” He couldn’t be dead, could he? They had just been arguing about how dumb the show was and earlier before that, they had been playing this cool board game called ‘chess’. There was no way he could be dead like this.

“Tony, please, you have to wake up,” Peter pleaded. “You can’t- I - Papochka, please. Papochka.”

A gasp. Tony’s eyes flashed open.

“Papochka,” Peter whimpered. “Papochka, thank god, I thought you were- I thought you were gone! Please don’t go like that, please don’t-”

“Pete, hey, Pete, it’s alright,” Tony’s arms flew to enclose Peter in a hug. “I’m here, buddy, I’m here.”

“Where did you go?” Hot tears sprang from his eyes and cascaded all the way down to his chin.

“Shh, I’m here now, that’s all that matters,” His fingers carded through Peter’s soft brown locks. “We’ll figure this out together, all right?”

Peter sniffled. “That’s what Captain Rogers said.”

A chuckle. “Yeah, that’s definitely a Captain Rogers thing. Come on, let’s get you sorted for the night.”

Peter shuffled to his feet, leaning his weight into Tony as much as he could.

“T-tony?” He mumbled some time after they nestled themselves into his red and blue bed.

“Yeah?”

“Can I call you Papochka sometimes?”

A pause. “What does it mean?”

“Papa,” Peter said simply.

Another pause. A sniff. “If you want to, kid. If you want to.”

(Perhaps a soldier ends as a soldier, but Papochkas never end.)

*

It was his fault. It was his fault, that Tony kept floundering at the brink of life and death each time he fell asleep. He and Dr. Banner had formulated the hypothesis that, because Peter acted as an anomaly to this timeline, individuals in close contact with him had a higher tendency of experiencing existential inconsistency. Said hypothesis was tested positive after it became clear that while Tony (whom Peter had spent a large proportion of his time with) was suffering from severe dimensional imbalance, the other Avengers who had spent varying amounts of time with Peter had had their own share of ailments, be it in the form of dreams, shocks or simply falling asleep at odd times of the day. 

Hence, all sentiments be damned, it was fact that Peter had to be sent back to his timeline as soon as possible, lest he caused everyone in this world to suffer for his presence.

Or so he said to Tony.

Predictably, Tony refuted the idea, shaking his head so vehemently Peter thought his neck might just snap. “We can’t send you back there, Pete. The moment you’re back in that spot, you’ll have to go back to becoming Hydra’s loyal soldier. I can’t- That can’t be you, Peter.”

“I could fight them,” Peter’s feet tapped incessantly, steel evident in his voice. “I’m strong. They made me strong. I can-”

“And what, stay fighting for the rest of your life?”

“If I have to, Tony! I can’t stay here and watch you guys- watch you guys die on me!”

“We’ll figure it out together. Here,” Tony gritted his teeth. “Together, Peter. I’m not leaving you there.”

“But you won’t have to!” Peter was near-hysterical. He had never been allowed opinions before, and now that he was, he’ll be damned sure at least someone heard a whiff of what he has to say. “Listen to me, Tony. The Tony Stark in my world, he lives too. The Tasha in my world, she lives as well. Literally every single one of you are still alive and kicking on Hydra’s alpha list ever since the battle of New York.”

“Battle of - just how far back is your timeline?” Tony’s eyes shone with incredulity. “But you’re 15 now. How does that even-”

“The point, Tony,” Peter pursed his lips. “The point, is that I could just go find you guys in my world, and- and then we’d become superheroes together just like in your timeline! I’ll just tell my Tony that you’re my Papochka and I would be safe. You would be safe.”

Tony stared at him. Blinked. “Y’know, I really like it when you say Papochka. It sounds so right.”

“The point, Tony!” Peter lifted his eyes to the ceiling. God, his father could be so dense sometimes. “It’s been half a year, and you’re all already like this. What’s going to happen if I stay for another half?”

“Alright, Pete’, alright,” Tony heaved a sigh. “I’ll think about it, ‘kay?”

Peter folded his arms. “You’d better.” He let a childish pout tug at the edges of his lips.

Tony huffed and ruffled his already mussed up hair. “I just can’t bear to lose you, kid. I mean, what if you’re not actually my son in the other timeline? The Peter Parker that I knew, he wasn’t my son - not biologically, anyway.What if-”

“If you weren’t my Papochka by blood, Tony, you would still take me in. I know you would.”

“Yeah, Pete, but Tony Stark after the Battle of New York kind of-”

“Any Tony Stark from any timeline would be my Papochka,” Peter gestured at himself. “This pretty much proves it.”

Tony stared again. And blinked again. “Why do you even speak Russian anyway?”

Peter sighed. There was only so long that his father could stay on a topic he didn't like. He shot him a look that said, give this some thought or else, before launching into a romanticised version of his childhood with Hydra. He could tell Tony wasn’t buying his half-assed tale, but he was probably too relieved with the topic change to say anything about it anyway.

“...So how do you say ‘my son’ in Russian, then?” He asked, after Peter finally ended his tall tale.

Now it was Peter’s turn to blink at Tony. “Moy syn.”

He watched the mirrored words roll off Tony’s tongue, smirking slightly at how mispronounced they were.

*

(You’ve succeeded, moy syn.)

“You’re right, Pete. We need to send you back,” Tony muttered to him after the tenth time he had woken to Peter begging for him to please be alive, he couldn’t leave him like this.

“Yes, Papochka,” Peter’s voice still wobbled from his earlier panic. “We must.”

*

“I know what my superhero name will be,” Peter stated as Tony flipped switches and buttons into motion.

He arched an eyebrow upwards. “Yeah?”

“Spiderman,” He declared with all the oomph he could into those three syllabus. “Get it? Because I can make webs and stick to stuff? And spiders do that so-”

“Yes, Peter, I get it,” Tony threw his head back in silent laughter. “I get it so well, you don’t even know.”

The other Avengers had left them alone after it was clear that this was actually happening. He was actually going back.

Tony’s thumb hovered over the last switch.

Peter shifted his weight nervously. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I’m not your Peter,” He clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry I have to leave.”

Tony’s hand retracted from the button. His deep earthy eyes floated to meet Peter’s burnt sienna ones. Then he strode over to him in two short steps, sturdy arms reaching out for one last hug.

“Pete,” His muffled voice came from somewhere in his hair. A deep breath. “Sometimes bad things happen, but know this-” He pulled away, only so that he could look Peter in the eye, palms still gripping the sides of his forearms tightly.”-some of these bad things might be because of you. But not all of them, alright?”

Peter nodded.

“Repeat what I said, moy syn,” His voice, it was so tender.

Peter almost cried. “Not all bad things that happen is because of me.”

“Yes, good,” Tony rewrapped Peter into his arms. “And this thing, Peter? It’s not actually all that bad.”

“But-”

Tony rubbed the trickle of moist tracing his cheeks, silencing him with the gentleness of said gesture. “It’s really not bad, Peter, when you come to think of it. This thing we’ve had, it’s made you grow. Look at you now, so full of life and love. Remember when you first arrived?” Tony’s hands never stopped caressing his shuddering sobs. “You were so full of fear and nothing else. Six months, Pete, six months was all it took for you to grow. Not fully of course, but this is a pretty great feat, no?” He stopped to squeeze Peter closer into his chest.

“And for me, moy syn, this has been the best six months of my life. I lost you once, and I’m losing you again now but at least this time-” A weighted inhale. “At least this time, we get to say goodbye.” Peter’s hands slowly unclasped themselves from behind his back, extending themselves so that Tony too, was wrapped in his arms.

(Shed your tears, moy syn. Tears for your dead, and also for your growth.)

“Papochka,” Peter murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Your pronunciation’s still really bad,” Peter laughed wetly at his father’s surprised guffaw. “But that’s not because of me, don’t worry. I know.”

Tony rolled his eyes, patting his shoulder one last time before going back to the gleaming switch.

“Try not to drive your Tony too crazy, eh?” A wink. “He’s got a lot to get used to.”

Peter’s head lolled to the side fondly as he watched Tony’s thumb flick it up into place.

“Goodbye, Papochka,” were his last words, before waves of acid green swept him off his feet.

*

“You’re that son I'm supposed to have, aren’t you?” Tony’s raised eyebrow came as a surprise to the frenzied teen who had ran all the way from Queens to Manhattan.

“H-How’d you know?”

“It came to me in a dream. So real,” Tony waved for him to enter the tower. “Come in then, we’ve got some talking to do.”

(Speak, moy syn. There is much use for a son’s voice.)

Peter bit his lip. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

“I’m Peter, by the way.”

Peter. Peter Parker. Spiderman. That was him. Nobody told him that was him.

Tony’s lips quirked up in a smirk. “I know, kid. I know.”

Nobody told him, but he knew.

[middleinthenight21]

‘’Ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? 1''

 @ravenfan1242 You are beautiful and I have no words

Thank you ❤❤

***

They didn't talk for a week, and that was enough so that the tension could be cut with the edge of a knife. She could feel it, his emotions were always easy to detect, his aura shone in different colors, marking the yellow tones representing happiness and joy, emotions that were difficult to achieve for someone who is half demon, whose control over her feelings and emotions contained her powers or these would consume her human side, and unwittingly would be liberating her father to destroy the world that for years participated in her salvation.

She was sitting next to him with the phone in his hand taking selfies for his social media and interacting with his followers, Raven had a book in her hands as she slurped a tea pretending that her mind absorbed every single letter, But she couldn't stop thinking about the moment everything broke down.

Were they too different for it to work? Should she have been surprised when everything went wrong?

She felt his indifference, as he also pretended not to have seen it and she could not blame him. Nor could she blame herself.

Sometimes she wondered what would become of her if she were a normal girl, if her fate wasn't a constant struggle, her worst nightmare ran through her veins and had imprisoned a demonic being destroyer of worlds in a glass resting on her forehead that responded to the name of her father, who was also the murderer of her mother and all the people who were part of her upbringing, What would happen to her if she was still that girl?

She had no right to forget all those people, who died on a childish whim.

She did not forget her heritage, going back to the worst-case scenario, but even with all that she could not help but see more. She glanced sideways at Garfield, who was resting on the sofa with a small smile on his face, tapping into his phone, felt a pinprick of emotion running through his body, his sadness resting between the layers, and she continued to dig as soon as she could contain it.

It wasn't hard to feel his emotions, Garfield was never someone who held back and lived every day as the last. Two drops from different ponds.

When they started dating months ago, everyone in the tower applauded. He was so happy that he wanted to post it on each of his social networks, but Raven had grimaced, because she wanted to keep her privacy to herself; no one should know. She wasn't ready for a public-domain relationship, she wasn't happy that everyone knew about her intimacy, so she wouldn't let him.

Garfield turned out to be a loving boyfriend, he wasn't afraid to touch her in front of the titans, when they watched movies he'd circle her shoulder resting his head against hers, After the missions he'd come over and put one hand down on her waist and smile happily for defeating all those bad guys by placing a kiss on her forehead, every time he had a chance to touch her he did, like she was something he could claim. Raven wasn't used to being touched, her last tokens of affection she remembered had been from her mother, before her life was completely transformed and ended in hell where contact with her father and half-brothers was as painful as the flames of fire, it had made her reluctant to show affection to her friends. She never initiated contact, nor desired to receive it, but Garfield was cut from a different cloth.

She was awakened by that feeling, that emotion of desire that she detected whenever the young man's thoughts moved away from reality, as if he were desperate for something or someone he would never have, and it was not her.

Raven figured it out. She was just hoping that one day she could forgive him, but she had understood, she didn't own his heart and she had grown tired of thinking that it would be Terra's life if she had given herself one more chance and stayed with them, Garfield would sigh every time he appeared in the halls, his emotions were strong enough for her powers to be detected from her room. It was different than what she noticed when they were together.

She remembered how his jokes and good humor could ease her reserved personality, cast his head back laughing like a little boy, as if he had never witnessed gruesome crimes and the deaths were only obstacles that jumped with a smile on his face, but there was a sadness in his eyes that he refused to reveal before her. Maybe his was a masterpiece until the two of them destroyed it.

He gave her flowers and let them die, she'd wanted him to open up, be serious for a few moments and tell her what was hurting him, but he didn't.

She wanted him to sit next to her and have a moment of peace, a space where he would walk away from social media and try to understand each other. Raven felt like she was the one who noticed the internal bleeding, she didn't mention it, and he kept giving out samples that didn't fill her heart anymore, she just felt cold every time he kissed her.

She knew he was doing his best.

Raven hadn't seen him until that breakfast. That morning she rose early, the sun hardly caressed the city, the fog covered the port and from a distance she saw the activity on the dock, small figures loaded the forests, collected the nets and filled containers with products of the sea; That tiny boat that took tourists along the coast of the city was hoisting their fictional pirate flags.

The steam from her tea burned her fingers, but she didn't care. It was a typical winter morning covered by a gray sky like a thick, spoiled soup, and the teenager sat in the chair facing the window in her pajamas, which consisted of a thin fabric blouse, shorts and thick woolen stockings.

She drank her herbal infusion, poaching on her tongue.

Turned off her father's voice, but her mind was restless and distant. She thought Garfield was probably still sleeping, seeing her consume tea would make him grimace and express how disgusting it is to drink hot flavored water; he would eat his yogurt with cereal and make so much noise until others would be bothered.

'Isn't it too early? ' Damian showed up in a sweaty sport outfit. Titus was walking behind Batman's son with his tongue hanging out of his muzzle, gasping, but he was still wagging his tail when he saw her in the kitchen "Come" He took the leash off his pet.

Damian had grown since he first arrived three years ago. His bones grew so big that Raven felt her pain at the first sprout of growth, his hair was short and dark black like the color of tar, his eyes green and his chin took a square shape; Anyone who saw him without his Robin costume would relate him to Bruce Wayne, it was his vivid image, except for the color of his eyes and the toasted tone, inherited from his Arab ancestry.

"Good morning to you too." After all this time she had to remind Damian of his manners. She drummed her fingers to the rhythm of a loose melody on the table. The marble brought the cold on her skin, it was like touching a snowflake "You want to take a cup of tea?"

He nodded, passing a towel around his neck to keep the perspiration away. His sweatshirt was broad in a black hue matching the pants, probably from a European designer whose surname she could barely pronounce.

They sat in front of each other in silence. They weren't very talkative people, Damian had been one of the few people who kept their emotions and feelings hidden behind an impenetrable wall, trained since childhood to be the perfect soldier and not make mistakes, never give the enemy the chance to use any emotion as a weakness, yet he was the person who understood most possibly because they had no social skills and had pasts from which they could not escape. Birds of the same feather.

Both had made an involuntary connection by saving each other.

There were uncomfortable silences, he was not easy to deal with and preferred to maintain distances before interacting, he had heard the whispers saying how creepy she was and did not fit in the middle of the group, In spite of being a heroine, there was an aura of mysticism and rarity that she couldn't shake off.

Damian turned out to be the least social Robin, keeping his appearances in the alleys of Gotham, patrolling and fighting criminals since he was a child, a stranger. He listened to the news in the online newspapers, testimonies from apparent nearby sources, and home video footage of witnesses as the team ended up with a criminal showing Robin's distance from the Teen Titans.

A few weeks ago, a video had gone viral that showed him after a battle where Damian was wounded, and Starfire came up to help him stand up but rejected her by waving his arm. The others weren't surprised, it was just Damian being him, however, people made it a topic of discussion whether or not Robin was a jerk to his peers, None of them would have found out if it wasn't for Garfield who expressed his dissatisfaction at seeing Robin in trends and not his name, but seeing what was going on, he told the team.

Damian snapped his tongue over the subject and went to his room. The whole drama moved people into twittering on Twitter about Robin's bad behavior towards the team, Justice League even with Batman himself showing blurry pictures of his fight a few years ago with Batman and before you know it Robin was canceled on social media without having any.

Garfield calmed things down by sending a friendly Tweet, but it was too late, and Robin's name was already tainted.

Now Robin was dealing with the constant images and videos taken on missions criticizing what he did. It would be easier if Damian was an anonymous person, but he's the son of one of the most powerful billionaires in the whole world and people were obsessed with knowing who he was dating and how the years made him into someone desirable in the eyes of teenage girls there were constantly photos of his body being on social networks under yellow titles such as: Bruce Wayne's son is already a man, look at his picture, Incredible!

Damian took a hard sip of his tea.

"How was the warm-up? "

He shrugged "I guess good."

He finished taking the last sip of his hot drink and got up to wash his cup.

"Do you have the first edition of David Copperfield?"

Raven raised an eyebrow, now curious. She turned around leaving her cup still soaped and her wet hands dripping on the floor "Have you read David Copperfield? "

He frowned analyzing the cover and back cover. The book was covered by a thick soft green fabric to the touch, had stains and pages fattened with a yellowish tone, plus a permanent old aroma, Raven had gotten it in a used book store and cost her two months' savings, but it was worth it.

Damian nodded and her heart leapt from emotion, but quickly neutralized "Yes. A few years ago."

"What did you think?"

"It was fine."

Frowned "I love your emotion."

Raven turned around and finished washing her cup by taking advantage to store the few dishes from the dinner the night before. Okay, maybe David Copperfield can be just ''It was fine'', but it's a book that needs to be analyzed more deeply and had more meaning.

"It's not bad" She froze "In fact, it's a good book, although a little childish for my taste and we all know that David wasn't going to stay with Dora."

She smiled "I have to agree with you. I think David always knew that the right one was Agnes, but he doesn't belittle Dora or that he didn't love her."

Arms around her waist stole the words she was about to say. She looked down, encountering green limbs, which left her quickly to kiss her hair muttering between yawns a greeting.

Looking at him, he was still in his pajamas and judging by his messy hair he had just woken up.

"Hey, Damian, you're all over the internet."

He folded his arms wincing at the sight of Logan, if there was one thing Damian hated was lazy and noisy people, Garfield getting up late and stirring the refrigerator in search of his favorite yogurt was the combination.

"Am I still canceled?"

Her boyfriend smiled with his mouth full of dried cereal "Robin, of course he did. Damian Wayne, heir of Wayne Enterprise, went out for a run with his pet, it was so adorable and hot that you're all over the gossip pages."

He picked up the phone showing a collection of photos of Damian jogging through a city park accompanied by Titus, in some photographs he was shirtless shaking his clothes from his pet's hair, in others he gave the dog a bottle of water to drink, Which drove the internet crazy.

"Worse."

And walked away.

Garfield shrugged, brushing the subject aside. Raven hugged the book on her chest and waited for him to finish breakfast, the silence was a monster that consumed her inside and wanted to break this, but she didn't know how.

She looked at his face, wondered if he noticed it too.

It made her feel like she was crazy, like she saw things that were never there. Raven wanted to know why they were keeping this thing afloat when it clearly leaked from the start, because he didn't see it, because Garfield kept clinging to it, she wanted to ask, but he was never that open.

He smiled at a post and slid his finger down, surely sharing with his followers.

Raven let the relationship go first, before it ended up destroying them both. He didn't love her.

It was a painful but powerful truth and she had refused to understand it until then.

No matter how much her heart was broken, she could not replace anyone or love a person who gave his heart to another. She'd made mistakes in her past, her road to hell had been full of good intentions, yet she wouldn't do that to him, she wouldn't do that to herself, In her time on earth he learned a thing or two about relationships and hers was doomed to failure from the beginning.

The others had known it. When the demonstrations of affection ended, they understood that the story had an end.

Not all couples are like Dick and Kory, who in spite of time and distance kept sticking together, going back to each other at some point; Raven had seen the connection to the minutes of seeing them facing each other, felt the nerves, lust and love floating between the heroes, like a thread that was electrified with every touch. She knew it.

When she was a child she had not believed in love, that of myths and legends that were so tragic and passionate that culminated with the death of lovers, nothing but explanations of natural phenomena, however, she did not expect herself to understand it in a bad way.

***

Walking down the street carrying the grocery bag for that weekend, they were heavy packed with a collection of products of different shapes and sizes that struggled to escape from the cloth bags.

It would have been a good idea to be accompanied, so I could share the work with someone else. She volunteered to make the purchases trying to get away from the tower, even for a while and did not accept the offers of her companions.

She wanted to be alone for a few minutes, but she didn't expect how difficult it would be to walk the streets with two bags loaded to the brim. The fabric was strapped through the circulation of her fingers, and her limbs were pulling as if she was carrying the bluntest weight in the world. She snorted, reminding herself that she should exercise more in the future.

An apple fell from the bag rolling into an alley and cursed.

'"Girl idiot, you deserve everything that happens to you"

"Shut up."

A figure cleared up next to her and was familiar. Damian was dressed in civilian clothes (which is strange) he wore a sweatshirt three times his size, some loose pants and on his face a white mask that made others think he wanted to get away from a potentially dangerous illness, but he never got sick. She never saw him once.

This covered outfit was given to be nothing more than a disguise so that no images of him would emerge and then she thought about what people would say if Damian Wayne were close to a stranger in an activity as casual as carrying grocery bags. She could feel the annoyance, caution and irritation of her friend, which was normal in him, but this time it was directed outward, towards anyone with a cell phone in their hands.

She genuinely felt sorry for him, for Robin was an identity where he had always felt comfortable and allowed him to go unnoticed. Damian always preferred action to conversation, privacy to public demonstrations and didn't ask for recognition; she looked at him sideways wondering what it felt like to be embedded in a family of vigilantes, the weight on his shoulders, to bear an inheritance so great that he could not escape. Raven could relate to that.

She remembered something.

"Weren't you on patrol?"

His eyes turned to the apartment building, a white-colored concrete block; it looked like a residence for wealthy people. She was able to feel his reluctance to talk about the issue of patrols.

"It's no longer so simple" He folded his arms "Every time I fight criminals, I only see the cameras pointing at me. People make work difficult."

Robin's name was currently repudiated, she found it somewhat strange since the reception of the previous Robin was good, and every child wanted to be Batman's helper. Boy Wonder.

She adjusted one of the bags over his shoulder with a grimace.

"You're popular on Twitter."

"Being canceled is not the same as being popular," he snarled. His voice behind the mask sounded thick "Before I can avoid it a new act is already being added to a thread. People have a lot of free time."

She gave herself a few minutes to think "Garfield calls it cancellation culture."

He made a face when she mentioned that name.

"I heard you broke up."

Raven put her head down. It had been three weeks since that conversation at breakfast, the wound was not fresh, but it was still there; she wondered if she had made a good decision. The doubt haunted her every time she heard him laughing with Jaime while they were playing video games and watching him approach other people giving out hugs, but it wasn't so painful anymore. She made peace with not having him in her life.

She was surprised that Damian brought up the subject of her previous relationship, not that he was very interested in the Titans' love life, and when they announced the relationship he put on an expression of boredom. Raven didn't expect any reaction, he never got along very well with beast boy barely withstanding his screams.

They were friends, so he'd have something to say, wouldn't he?

Damian always had an opinion.

"We did," she replied.

They passed by some shops where big posters were displayed announcing discounts, apparently wanting to get rid of last season's products. Jump City was located at the beginning of the summer, the rays of sun burned the skin of its inhabitants and dyed the city of an apparent atmosphere of festival proclaiming in each of the local media the upcoming events and fairs.

A group of teenagers was making their way to a clothing store. One of them pointed at Damian's face with her cell phone, and he hid his face in the sweatshirt, walking faster, holding her arm, and got into a car parked a few blocks away.

He looked back "We lost them."

She had not realized the extent of the people's persecution of Damian. She glanced at him sideways as he took off his mask showing his sculpted jaw, his face was free of imperfections and he looked like something from an old film where he played the gallant protagonist.

In Azarath there was a word to describe how precious and charming beyond words, that beauty that hurt and made you wonder if something like this could exist, she had not found a translation or a word that could describe that feeling, so she left him as he was Arratax sounded in her head when she looked at his profile. Raven knew that Damian was conceived and trained to be perfect, designed, but that didn't stop her from feeling a pinprick of anger, for a demon's daughter, someone with unholy blood, beauty escaping from her hands.

"I hate this."

Raven arranged the bags in the back seat of the car. You could feel the aroma of new leather, the interior is luxurious and well cared for, it was probably a car made to withstand high speeds, last generation, probably exclusive.

"Do you think someone filmed you?"

He put his hands on the steering wheel "I don't think so, but they did take pictures of me."

She grimaced.

"I'm sorry" Raven apologized for all the shit that was going on, even though she had nothing to do with it.

Damian stared at her for a few seconds with a frown, as if he were figuring out the meaning behind her words, measuring whether there was a double intention. He started the car quietly and headed for the Titans' tower.

She looked out, the buildings and houses passed through her vision in a blink of an eye and leaned her head against the glass. She closed her eyes, quietly repeating a prayer taught to her by the monks, a plea for tranquility and new beginnings.

After months of a stormy relationship, a painful breakup and change after that, she needed some peace. For the first time in a month she really felt calm, yet it still seemed to her that this summer had been cruel, full of ups and downs.

She started it by being in a stable relationship, or at least that's how she classified it, if they'd told her she'd break up with Gar, she wouldn't have believed them because everything was fine. What an irony.

"Whatever," he said. His fingers tapped softly on the steering wheel like he was sending out a message in Morse code "It's not like it matters."

Raven bowed her head.

In her hands rests a book, she had not been able to finish it during these three weeks, unable to focus her attention on words. She kept the stories of Edgar Allan Poe clinging to her chest, as if to guard the letters.

"Have you read The Raven?"

"I think we all have. It's the writer's most popular story."

Damian folded through the intercept; his greenish gaze fixed on the road. There was something comforting about talking about books while he was driving, an atmosphere hovering over the two, a soft, protective mantle.

"I read it for the first time in the library."

She had to imagine that the Wayne mansion had its own library, after all Bruce Wayne was known to be a billionaire who visited charitable events talking about current issues with powerful people. He may be a playboy, but that didn't make him a fool.

His library probably had first editions and collections that would cost houses.

"What's your favorite?"

He glanced at her sideways, it was a fleeting glance. His brow was still wrinkled in a frown, and his mouth twisted in a grimace, like a pouty child when he was rebuked. Damian didn't like to talk, rarely had he shared with the Titans beyond the missions, so they saw him with a book in his hands, name a certain character or quotes were surprised, But Raven knew it, saw the momentary interest every time he watched her read or made sure she wasn't disturbed.

He was full of surprises.

"Oliver Twist."

His gaze relaxed and for a few seconds his mind escaped, as if flying in a different direction. She didn't need to be empathetic to understand that it was a private memory.

The rest of the journey was peaceful, but Damian gradually became more bitter, spoke less and frowned more, as if a being were returning to his body.

Damian Wayne's exhibition and Robin's cancellation had only made him distant (more than usual), he realized how his friends could find themselves in the tabloids and media for more than missions if they were discovered by his side. Damian Wayne captured attention for his heritage, Damian Al Ghul was destined to lead the world's most powerful league, Robin is the companion of one of the most popular and beloved heroes, who is also part of Justice League, But the Damian who drank tea cups and added brown sugar reading poetry, won prizes at the fair for children and was amazed at the taste of sweets, enjoyed the silences and whispering conversations; that Damian didn't appreciate it.

Raven sighed as the car pulled up in front of the Tower of the Titans.

Back to reality, it was said. She had pretended to be a lonely evening, she wanted to engage her thoughts in something other than that fateful morning, in her failure of love that her father mockingly reminds her of declaring that demons fell in love, that it was her fault and doomed to destroy everything, just like she was meant to destroy the earth.

She had been angry, tired and hurt, and the walls of her room already threatened to drive her crazy. Normally she would be in her room meditating, drinking tea or reading a book, but not anymore.

She needed to get out.

She seriously considered making up an excuse to be away for a while. She looked upon the city, the rays of the sun reflected on the windows of the buildings like lit candles, and the mountains were dyed a pastel pink shade.

The first stars appeared in the sky. It was getting dark.

"Thank you for the ride."

She felt the need to speak, though she knew she would get no answer from Batman's son, so she got out of the car with the grocery bags. "You're welcome."

Raven stopped wondering if she heard, but the car was already pulling away.

***

In her head everything went well, he called her and replied with a smile, but it was all a montage.

A montage she wanted to erase from her head.

Garfield would knock on her door, offer a smile in peace and feel the world fall at her feet. His heart would pound into his chest, his fingers would itch to get her close, to taste her skin, and how it would feel to say she was his. The worst lie ever.

She sat on the floor of her room facing the window, the city was a dark painting filled with thousands of lights turning on and off. The sight comforted her, sheltered her heart and she remembered why she was doing this.

Raven turned off the light and remained silent, just looking out.

She had been described as a lonely person with whom she was difficult to deal, her past was a chain she could never cut, could learn to wear the chain and share when she weighed the chain. A few years ago, she had said she had a bad judgment, believed that she had not changed at all.

She wondered if she would ever learn from her mistakes.

Love was not for her; she was much better off alone; no one had to deal with a demon's daughter. As much as she hated her father and would ignore each of his words, she recognized that he was right in a sense, people like her were not meant to be loved, for others to give them their hearts.

I could live with that.

***

After that mission Robin's name echoed on social media, apparently someone had taken a picture of the moment the superhero hit Beast Boy in the stomach after he yelled in his ear. Damian's reaction was bad, he didn't like surprises, so every time someone managed to scare him, he would respond with blows.

That's not what they said on Twitter.

Garfield was a beloved titan, as much as his peers rolled their eyes when they saw him doing live on their social media and posting everything that happened to him was not a world opinion, his more than five million followers lived for each of his interactions, So, they didn't react well to the image.

Garfield tried to calm the situation, But the photograph of Robin's fist crushing his stomach and the justification he gave was enough for his followers to believe he was some kind of martyr and make petitions gathering signatures so that the Boy Wonder would no longer be part of the Titans.

"OMG… Robin assaulting another of his companions, what a surprise'"

"Beast Boy is a love. He doesn't deserve this''

''We should all cancel Robin. I don't understand how Batman can have him as a partner, and even the Titans, he just shouldn't be there''

''Beast Boy is a very calm person, he's never bothered anyone, but Robin treats him very badly #JusticeforBeastBoy''

The hashtag became a worldwide trend with the video going around the world. The Justice League intervened saying that Robin is just a boy and that his action did not reflect on the Titans, and Batman found himself contacting Starfire.

Damian rolled his eyes away from the situation. In the last few days he was quiet, spent his days training or patrolling being invisible, a shadow appearing to save them and disappear in smoke.

In the few moments he was in the tower he was absent when he heard any comments about social media, Starfire had suspended the posting of photos on the tower or other titans, as well as the mention of a certain team member.

Garfield protested, but Kory's frown was enough for him to nod.

Being around Damian had only caused her emotions to overwhelm her.

The teenager was a tide of anger and frustration, she felt it in his veins, like a monster waiting for a provocation to come out. His emotions were there, deep down he was affected by the situation, had something else to show besides latent anger.

She was not mistaken when she said that inside he is a noble and generous soul, she still believed he was that person, but sometimes she would like to do more than just scratch the surface.

Interrupted her meditation by paying attention to his blade by tearing apart a hologram. He was not wearing his uniform, only a pair of shorts and a loose T-shirt revealing his arms, his frown falling drops of sweat and holding the sword stronger than necessary. The last time he was like this was after a discussion with his father about a mission.

"You've been gone five hours, Damian."

He didn't pay any attention. "It's okay. Ignore me."

Raven was not in the mood to put up with Damian's mood, could normally bear his rough edges and understood that none was easy to deal with, however, this time she preferred to walk away.

She headed for the exit.

"Are you still reading Edgar Allan Poe?" He frowned.

She was struck by surprise, took a few moments to understand his words and process a response.

Was he stopping her?

"Yes" She turned. He looked into her eyes but bowed his head and the sword swung in his hands without purpose. "I almost finished the stories."

Damian sighed.

He ran a hand through his hair. His face is covered with sweat, small drops descended on his forehead and he put the sword in the holster; he walked towards the controls and for a minute she thought he would reschedule the program from the beginning, but he took a book out of a backpack.

Raven wanted to look away, she sensed it was a book she planned to read, but the title made her look back at the play. She recognized it wherever she saw it, she'd been looking for it for days on the internet sighing disappointed at the price.

The first edition of The Raven had been sold out, yet the price was enough to make her pocket hurt. The book is dark, of a worn color, on the cover a raven on a pillar with the title barely standing out from a yellowish shade, and its pages thickened over time.

"How?"

He shrugged "Family Library."

Oh.

"Keep it" He paused "If you want it… "

Only Damian could make accepting a gift sound like an order. She made a mental note not to underestimate his detective skills, however, by her lips slipped a smile against any thought of exhaustion about the behavior of the younger Wayne.

He handed her the book, while he was away with the sweat on his forehead with a towel. She stared at the work passing one hand across the cover feeling the softness of the paper, as well as the relief of the title and the dust accumulated between its pages, as if it were awaited by Raven for a long time in the most hidden place in the world.

"Thank you very much, Damian."

He did not respond, but she could feel his shoulders relaxing and the tension seemed to leave his body. The emotion came to her like a wave on a quiet day, a softness that invaded her spirit and almost let out a sigh.

There was something intimidating about the scene, Raven holding a book leafing through its pages like devouring its contents, Damian drinking water and wiping sweat from the body.

They had a good relationship, they went through a few moments of roughness when they met and that is that the circumstances could not have been worse, but they were forged since then. She begged him to stay away, now she just wanted to keep him close.

Her heart was forming new strings around him, handled by the worst puppeteer she'd ever met in her entire life. She put that feeling away before it came up, it was just excitement for the gift and nothing else.

You want to take advantage of the boy. Her father's voice roared in her head, a tone of mockery and the smile disappeared from her face, Are you that easy, you filthy witch? Demons devour love, feed on feeling, and make it worse. We are made for this, ungrateful. When are you gonna learn?

Raven frowned at that.

She stared at the book, it was so beautiful that in a few seconds it became a sign of uncertainty, a reminder of the fate of all this. She wanted to return it, just like the little injection of feelings that shook her heart and nip it in the bud like a rotten thing before it branches off elsewhere and she couldn't do anything, just cry in the dark at the end.

She watched Damian, the boy was at the height of his reputation, each of those people who took the time to write comments against him hated him, repudiated his image and wished him out, as Damian Wayne was no better, the world was leaning at his feet and was haunted by magazine photographers starving for an update on the life of the Prince of Gotham's son, So much so that it affected the teenager's personal life by avoiding going out, and when he did, he tried not to be recognized on the streets. She felt that people should see him beyond titles and flaws.

Do you want to ruin this one too?

"What is it?"

He put the towel aside and came over. When there was something that aroused his curiosity, he demanded an answer and was content with nothing but the truth, she felt exposed and overwhelmed, perhaps it was because of her father's voice that no matter how much it cost her he was right, she never learned from her mistakes.

Put an end to it before the prologue is written and ends badly.

Raven retreated in one step, then two, but Damian continued to approach.

"What is it?" he repeated.

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, unable to utter a single word, but what would she say? what if this was just a nice gesture and she was confusing everything, she didn't want to ruin a friendship by a prick of confusion.

She Looked into his eyes. In a second her whole mind lit up completely and she realized that that feeling was not unknown, his green eyes brought her hope and strength in the moments when the world was falling apart even when they were just getting to know each other, they had seen so many bad things, they could have opted for a life of pain and destruction, but here they were waiting for the best, that kind of familiarity embraced her and made her entrails turn.

The feeling was not new.

They were inches away. She raised her head squeezing her lips out of sheer nervousness, wanted to divert attention to whatever it was, but Damian's eyes were demanding, being empathetic she felt his anxiety about knowing what was going on, It was almost as if he was calling her and emitting a magnetic force that made it impossible to lie to him.

She embraced the book on his chest "I…'

"You're all over social media, Wayne"' Jaime stopped dead. He appeared holding a cell phone and showing the teenager casually conversing with a waitress in a restaurant; the latino exchanged a glance between the two and scratched his hair, insecure "I'm sorry."

Damian frowned and rolled his eyes as he processed the words. He collected his belongings with angry grunts, probably tired of all the media scandal surrounding his life.

He made a grimace of discomfort.

"Brother, everyone is linking you to the waitress and all the girls are suffering," said Jaime. He had pretended that the words were a mockery, but no longer knew if his friends would take it as a joke, in any case, not that he had a sense of humor; he would swear that he was not welcome "Rae, you should read the comments."

She looked away from him.

Raven shrugged "I'm not interested."

"I don't want to know anything!" Damian put his backpack on his back and walked to the door in strides "I can't order coffee anymore" he snarled.

Garfield showed up with his tablet accompanied by Conner "Look what they did to Robin…"

Damian pushed him, and he slammed the door so hard he sent a draft of air. Beast Boy backed away issuing complaints, the device almost slipped between his hands like butter.

Conner laughed, gripping his stomach, mocking his friend.

"What's wrong with him?"

Raven sighed.

Sometimes she was surprised at how dense the three are, Jaime could be calmer, but as for the feelings and what his companions experienced, he was totally unaware of it, while Garfield only saw the truth if he came face to face and danced to it.

About Conner, well, she doubted he saw anything but his own vanity.

"He's frustrated," she said.

Garfield and Jaime exchanged glances, finally shrugged, while Conner continued to mock his friends for a reason that eluded her knowledge. She was used to people reacting like that when she spoke, as they related it to her powers and her mysterious aura, they assumed that she saw something that others did not, in some cases it was real, in others the problem was them.

Raven stared at the book.

The gift in her hands, the beating of her heart, the fire in her cheeks, which would burn to ashes.

She wasn't meant to love.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HERE'S WHAT I JUST REALIZED ABOUT CIRCLE

It's hard to think of startup ideas. If this is true it has interesting implications, because discipline can be cultivated. Try talking to everyone you can about the gaps they find in the world, and this is easier for writers as well as readers. That means they want less money, but also that there are more and more valuable. When they go to VC firms. Anyone can see they're not the target market. If that's true, most startups that turn down acquisition offers is not necessarily that all such offers undervalue startups. That will change the atmosphere, and not before. The time required to raise money. Whoever the next Google is, they're probably going to have to be at the mercy of their own imagination. About 20% of the startups from preventable deaths.

Investors collude. If you look at the instruments. I didn't make a lot of time on the software. One could do a lot better for a lot of investors will reject you in a way that seems to violate conservation laws. I took embarrassingly long to catch on. I said in the second version, why didn't I have the easy confidence winners are supposed to have? It's equivalent to asking how to make a difference. A palliative care nurse called Bronnie Ware made a list of n things is a degenerate case of essay. Angels can take greater risks because they don't have to look for things that seem completely unrelated, like social networking apps. It's supposed to mean that a deal is going to be. Distinguishing between wise and smart is a modern habit. Dropbox: an SAT prep startup.

Philip Greenspun said in Founders at Work that Ars Digita's VCs did this to them. It certainly describes what happened in Viaweb. But neither should you let them run the company. Another drawback of large investments is the time they take. There do not seem to be superficial reasons. In the time of Confucius and Socrates, wisdom, virtue, and happiness were necessarily related. If you run out of money, you have to figure out what you'd need to reproduce Silicon Valley. I would guess that practically every Stanford or Berkeley undergrad who knows how to program has at least considered the idea of starting a startup means the average good bet is a riskier one, but most can upload a file. What surprised me was their reaction when I called to talk about buying you. If you look at the way successful founders have had their ideas, it's not the deciding factor. Everyone he knows has seen that picture. To evaluate whether your startup is worth investing in.

I decided the critical ingredients were rich people and nerds—investors and founders. It takes an effort of will to push through this and get something released to users. Google's founders were willing to fund teams of MBAs who planned to outsource their product development—which to my mind is actually a lot riskier than investing in a pair of 18 year old hackers, no matter how finished you thought it was important for a founder to be an expert in business. A termsheet is not legally binding, but it is a definite step. There seem to be ideas for companies, just things that would be the first to switch to it. And yet when they started the company. But Mark already lived online; to him it seemed natural. That may not be possible to do that completely. One of the two founders was still in grad school, but we're focusing on growing the company. But coming up with startup ideas is to work on a recipe site. This is one of the people who are committed enough to prefer that, and c only hire people who are committed enough to prefer that, and c only hire people who are really good at acting formidable often solve this problem by giving investors the impression that while no investors have committed yet, several are about to.

But I've proposed to several VC firms that they set aside some money and designate one partner to make more, smaller bets, and they bounced back. Even a bad cook can make a decent cheeseburger. Reading Fred's post made me go back and figure out if they were returning to work after a months-long illness. You could replace high schools too, but there are signs it might be as much as a half. You generally shouldn't pass up a definite funding offer to move. Start a company? But there are limits to how well you answer their questions. A good deal of willfulness must be inborn, because it's common to see families where one sibling has much more of it than another.

Recipes for wisdom, particularly ancient ones, tend to have a qualification appended: at games that change slowly. I don't know exactly what the future will look like, but I'm British by birth. No amount of discipline can replace genuine curiosity. Now I would guess that practically every Stanford or Berkeley undergrad who knows how to program has at least considered the idea of switching seems thinkable to me. You have to be generated by software, so we wrote some. The idea that a successful person should be happy has thousands of years, then switches polarity? This leads to the phenomenon known in the Valley as the hot deal, where you can assume that if you can't predict whether there's a path out of an idea, a working prototype; if you win an Olympic gold medal, you can be wise without being very smart. Judging startups is hard even for the most successful of that group by an order of magnitude larger than the number who want it, not how to convert that wealth into money. To count as research, the less likely it is to be something that could only ever have appealed to Harvard students, it would be an amazing hack. You're all smart and working on promising ideas. Something that curtly contradicts one's beliefs can be hard to sell. If startup failure were a disease, the CDC would be issuing bulletins warning people to avoid day jobs.

As I was leaving I offered it to him, as I've done countless times before in the same spirit. In a sense there's just one point, you don't really understand them. They insist on it. So why did I spend 6 months working on this stupid idea? Corporate Development, aka corp dev, ask yourselves, Do we want to keep in close touch as you develop it further. And not just because we make small investments; many have gone on to raise further rounds. VCs: How would you like a job where you never got to make anything, but instead ask do we suck? They say Yeah, maybe I could see myself—making at least 4 of these 5 mistakes.

Considering how basic a red circle is, it seemed surprising to me when we started YC. The last one might be the most progressive. You can't use euphemisms like didn't go anywhere for something that's your only occupation. One Canadian startup we funded could appear in a Newsweek article describing them as the next generation of billionaires, because then the cycle of generating new versions and testing them on users can happen inside one head. After they merged with X. So here's the recipe for impressing investors when you're not already good at seeming formidable the first time in history they're no longer getting the best people. I mean truly evaluate whether your startup is worth investing in, rather than whether it's going to take, and the doctors figure out what's wrong. Probably no one who applied to Y Combinator to work on projects that seem like they'd be cool. The only way to decide which to call it is by comparison with other startups.

Thanks to Patrick Collison, Jessica Livingston, Sam Altman, Robert Morris, the founders of Zenter, and Justin Kan for smelling so good.

[hilllsnholland]

Money Can’t Buy You Love - 1

Pairing: RichKid!Tom x Reader (A little Enemies to Lovers)

Y/N has worked her whole life to get into the prestige university of her dreams. Nothing can stop her, right? Maybe Tom Holland, son of billionaires and the poster child of privilege, who has made it his mission to woo the ‘Scholarship Baby’.

wc: 2.7k 

Warnings: None?

A/N: I haven’t written a fic in so long but I’m obsessed with RichKid!Tom so here is all my love and creativity to consume. This chapter is to set the scene but everything else.. oh boy get yourself ready for angst and smut :)

    The bitter cold had rendered Y/N’s fingertips useless as she fiddled with her bag to open the frozen zipper. She lost feeling in her fingers and her face was numb from the snow. Of course, her first day would be a mess. The first day at a new university, a very prestigious one at that, and she couldn’t even get her backpack open. Her whole life has attributed to this moment and it was becoming a disaster. After years of getting top marks in all her classes and her scholarships finally coming through, she was able to get into the school of her dreams. She had to start late in mid-January, but she was happy to even get accepted. What was a drag though was walking through the horrid winter snow or rain that has been plaguing the city and her life apparently.

   Y/N rushed through the building doors to get away from the weather almost blindly as she barely avoided bumping into other students passing by, her hands moved insanely fast to gain heat back into her tingling fingers. She was in her own world though, her mind focused on getting to class and memorizing the first three chapters that she read before arriving here. This was an opportunity of a lifetime and she was not going to mess it up. Y/N was so engrossed in her own thoughts she didn’t even notice that she ran right into another student, clearing his coffee straight out of his hands.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” The boy yelled which finally snapped Y/N out of her thoughts.

“I’m so, so sorry.” She squealed and froze in place. Her eyes were locked onto the blonde haired student that was giving a stare that could kill. He looked so familiar but Y/N could not place where he was from. “Here. Take this.”

   Y/N fished in her jacket pocket and pulled out the few pounds she had and handed it to the boy. He looked at her cockeyed as if she had two heads or something. He scanned the money and just shook his head at her.

“You don’t-”

“Sorry! Have to go to class.”

   Without another word Y/N kept her previous pace and raced to the lecture hall. The blonde haired boy watched her with narrowed eyes and then said something to his friends. Y/N didn’t see it though, she was busy trying to remove the whole interaction from her mind. This school was full of geniuses, future politicians, and socialites. Anybody who was even remotely going anywhere in life was at this school and that last thing Y/N wanted was to piss one of them off. She just had to stay invisible until she graduated. Easy enough. She had done it her whole life.

   Finally, Y/N reached her Political Science class approximately five minutes early, just how she likes it. Y/N found her spot in the middle of the room and started to set up her laptop to take notes. Thankfully all the buildings had premium heating at her backpack had finally opened. Her luck was turning already. Y/N turned on her laptop and for a second she longingly looked at the screensaver, a picture of her with her family. A little ache rose from her chest but she pushed it down so that she could focus. She missed her family, but she’s here for them. Once she was graduated then she could go back but not yet. The past few years had only pushed her to come here, get the education she needed and finally help her family out. It was hard, really hard. After what had happened-

“Anyone sitting here?” A voice said from beside her which shook her from her thoughts.

“Uh no.”

   Y/N didn’t even look up from her screen as the figure took a seat next to her. It wasn’t until she smelled the thick cologne of someone of status that she looked away. Y/N had worked in a department store before, she knew that smell. It was Versace and the price tag was hefty for any normal person. She turned to see who was sitting next to her and her heart nearly stopped.

“You-you,” Y/N stuttered for a second.

“Me what?” The boy chuckled.

“You- I like your cologne.” Y/N choked out and felt her face warm up with embarrassment.

“Thanks.”

   He smiled and returned back to his laptop. Y/N was stunned though. It was Tom Holland. The Tom Holland. Son of billionaires and basically the poster child for sophisticated living in England. Y/N blinked a few more time to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. He looked better in person than he did in the tabloids. He was remarkably good looking with big brown eyes and curls that were hidden underneath a beanie. Y/N turned back to her laptop and tried to look as normal as possible. As if she wasn’t just studying him like a piece of meat.

“You didn’t have to give him money you know,” Tom says abruptly and she gives him a quizzical look. “Harrison. The guy you knocked the drink out of. He doesn’t need your money.”

“Oh.”

   Y/N suddenly remember why the blonde haired boy looked so familiar. He was another socialite, Harrison Osterfield, and seen mostly around Tom’s group of upper-classers. A thick red covered Y/N face as she realized she had given pocket change to a guy who could probably buy everything she’d ever own and still have some left over to buy a couple islands. She had not even noticed that Tom was standing there when the event happened. How she missed him, she had no idea. He looked like a model.

“I just felt bad for knocking it out of his hands.”

“Oh, so it’s pity money?”

   Y/N furrowed her brows at Tom, was he trying to insinuate something? Y/N didn’t think what she did was rude, but it was all too embarrassing for her to come up with a good excuse. If anyone else spilled her coffee she would have appreciated the gesture. Maybe it had to do with the fact that all the people here are handed stacks of cash, not a few coins and paper money to satisfy the price of a drink.

“No-I just don’t- I- ” Y/N stammered as she went back to her laptop. “I wanted to be nice. I didn’t see anything wrong with what I did.”

   Tom laughed as his composure mimicked realization. Y/N looked at him, studying him top to bottom. She had read the tabloids about him so many times that she could not believe he was real. The stories of epic parties, drunken escapades, and too many hookups for the media to count. Y/N had always thought the tabloids were trashy attempts to slander someone’s hard work, but maybe they were right about this one.

“Oh, so you must be one of the Scholarship Babies?”

   Tom laughed again, almost as if he was talking to a child. Y/N thinned her lips into a line and tried to ignore him. She hated being a scholarship student because of those very names. People would only see it as a handout, not the fact that Y/N gave up many days and nights to achieve such honors as a full ride to the university. Something people like Tom would never understand. All he probably had to do was ask his parents to write a check and he was admitted on spot. Y/N felt the pit in her stomach fill with jealousy as she stared at the poster child of privilege. She tried to give him her best attempt at a bitch face but Tom kept looking at her, his gaze unmoving even as the Professor entered the room and started writing on the chalkboard.

“Don’t be ashamed. Scholarship Babies are a hot commodity around here. Who else would do the work for the Uppermens?” Tom was trying to joke but Y/N wasn’t having it.

“Maybe if you Uppermens actually worked hard in your life you’d see that us ‘Scholarship Babies’ have more to do than be your bitches.”

   Y/N was seeing red as she hissed her words at Tom, who was now taken aback by the sudden aggression. He turned to the Professor and ignored her for the rest of the class time. Y/N tried to suppress her fuming anger so that she could concentrate but her mind was fury from his words. She knew he was joking but she had heard those mockeries many times before. She knew the elite students would take advantage of the scholarship students by either bullying them down or using them as their own personal assistants. The other scholarships students Y/N knew had fallen into those traps but she wasn’t having it. That is why she wanted to stay invisible, get high marks, and graduate as soon as possible. So Y/N set aside her annoyance and focused on the lecture.

   The rest of the class went by quickly though. It was the first day so it was just the syllabus and some awkward stories made by the Professor to seem relatable to his young adult students. Quite average. Once the Professor excused the class, Y/N was hurrying to get out of the room. No way did she want to have another talk with Tom Holland so that he can mock her for her unbranded clothes or lack of beach houses. Y/N placed her things away and left the room as soon as she could, not looking back at the elitist that was watching her.

   Y/N found herself in the hallway surrounded by other students. All of them were wearing designer clothing, Cartier bracelets, technology that she had never even seen before. It was a lot to take in. Before this, it was all average people. Now it seemed like she had entered an alternate world where everyone but her had shiny hair and bank accounts that could rival Greece. Y/N wanted a hole to swallow her up and take her away from all of it so she started speed walking away from everything. She did not know where she was going, her next class was soon but only God knows where it was. She just wanted to be moving so that no one could take a critical look at her.

“Are you here on a sports scholarship or something?” A voice said behind her. Y/N turned to see Tom racing right behind her. She kept her pace to get away from him but he followed.

“No.” She said flatly.

“You sure can run fast. You should join the Track and Field team if you have time.” Tom responded as he quickened his pace to catch up.

   Y/N stopped in her tracks and turned to him quizzically. He was basically chasing her down the corridor like a crazy person. Well, Y/N was the first one to start running but he was definitely running after her. Tom fumbled behind her to come to a stop and tried to catch his breath from chasing her. Y/N studied him once again to try to understand what he was deal was. They had spent no more than five minutes next to each other and this guy was already on her ass. If that didn’t read stalker then she didn’t know what did.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asked dryly.

“You never told me your name, unless you want me to call you SB for the rest of the term.”

   His eyes were sincere and his smile created soft creases by his lips. He looked like the most average boy you’d find in England. Y/N knew better than that though. The pictures of him looking absolutely trashed on drugs. The different women he was seen walking out of clubs with. The one incident where he crashed a jet ski into a clubhouse. Those were dark truths that the media exposed. Y/N could not fall for the sweet brown eyes. She could not falter her gut feeling for the way he looked at her.

“It’s Y/N. What’s SB?”

“Scholarship Baby of course.”

   A groan escaped Y/N lips as she heard it. He made it sound like a term of endearment but Y/N hated it more than anything. She truly would rather be called a bitch than an SB at this point.

“Don’t call me that.” Y/N snapped.

“Why not? You are one aren’t you?”

   Tom seemed to not acknowledge the problem with the name and Y/N did not want to waste her time trying to explain it to him. She assumed he was a person who could only see the world through the lens of his lifestyle. Posh, lavish, and full of booze. Y/N scoffed and bitterly turned away from him.

“Yeah I am, but I don’t like being called one. Like you’re a spoiled rich kid, but you probably don’t want to be called one.”

   Driving that distance. Pushing people away. That’s what Y/N was good at. Tom hummed at her response and shook his head. He was somewhat numb to her insults but he still squinted his eyes at her like he was holding back words. He brought his designer watch up to his face and looked at the time then looked back to Y/N.

“I’d love to chat with you more but this spoiled rich kid has places to be. It was nice meeting you Y/N.” Tom moved to go past her but stopped right before their bodies pass.

   For a brief second their eyes met and there was a flush of varying emotions. Y/N could not tell if she was more annoyed or turned on by his fierce brown eyes. He was spoiled, but he was still hot. Tom moved a swift hand from his bag and slipped it into Y/N jacket pocket for a brief second then walked past her. Y/N spun around and reached into her pocket, feeling slips of paper between her fingers.

“By the way, Harrison wastes his money on dumb shit all the time. Don’t pay him back for anything.” Tom chuckled as he walked away and disappeared into the crowd of people.

   Y/N fumbled the slips of paper out of her pocket and looked at the contents that he dropped into her possession. For a second, Y/N thought she had a stroke. Tom had dropped £250 into her hand like it was pocket change. Y/N searched the crowd to yell at him but he was gone. Y/N threw the money into her bag and stomped off to her next class, fuming again like earlier. She did not want to be paid off like some charity. She didn’t need the money she had a job. Tom Holland had basically handed her pity money. Would the money help out with groceries? Hell yes! But did she want it from him? No.

   Y/N felt the twist of jealousy relish in the pit of her stomach again. Tom could just throw money around like no problem, who does that? Spoiled people of course. She knew she was being bitter but it still pissed her off. The way he could walk around like he owned the damn school- well he might as well since he has the money but that's beside the point. Y/N loathed the thought him treating her like a charity project. What deepened her hatred was the fact that she was absolutely enthralled by him. His curls, his crooked smile, the way his eyes lit up when she snapped at him. They had only spent no more than fifteen minutes together and she could list the top ten things she hated and liked about him. Y/N grunted to herself as she tried to dissect the spoiled rich kid from her mind, but he was infecting her thoughts like a parasite. As Y/N sat down in her Cultural Anthropology class she sighed, finally at peace. She peered around the room and felt safe in a different classroom again. But only for a moment.

“We got to stop meeting like this,” Tom said as he took a seat next to her.

This is going to be a long semester 

///

taglist: @mrs-hollandstan @tomhollanddtho @parkertrashsquad @julytwentyninth1924

[lovemesomesurveys]

What Rhymes With “AIR”?

1.   Are the walls of your room bare or do you have things hanging up there? I have some stuff on my walls.

2.   When’s the last time you went outside to enjoy the fresh air? I briefly went outside at night on the 4th of July to see the fireworks from my driveway with my family. Prior to that I hadn’t been out of the house since May and before that it had been since March. 

3.   Do you watch the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? Sometimes.

4.   When’s the last time it felt like you were walking on air? I had one bad floating feeling experience from a bad edibles trip. I literally felt like I had to hold onto something to “stay grounded.” I also ended up getting sick. It wasn’t a fun time. I found out the hard way after that time that it didn’t take much of an edible for me to get high lol. It tricks you cause it can take a bit to kick in, so you think you need more, but nope.

5.   Have you ever been on air, on a radio station? Yeah. I used to call to request a song sometimes back in the day and my call  was on air a few times.

6.   Have you ever felt like all of the air was coming out of your lungs? Yes.

7.   Has it seemed as though anything has ever disappeared into thin air? Have you ever pulled an idea out of thin air? Yes! So frustrating. I’ll be using something and then put it down for a sec, only to not be able to find it where I thought I put it. Like for instance, it happens a lot when I’m wrapping presents. The pen or scissors I’m using always seem to “disappear.” RIP to all the pens that seemed to just vanish, too, throughout my school years. And yes, I’ve also pulled ideas “out of thin air.”

8.   Have you ever wanted to be on “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire”? I enjoyed playing along while watching and I even had a computer game version, but nah. I wouldn’t get far at all and it’d be embarrassing. I don’t do well with being put on the spot either.

9.   Do you know a billionaire in real life? No.

10.   Would you like to be an heir or heiress to a fortune? I mean, I wouldn’t have been opposed to it if I was haha.

11.   Would you be able to successfully get away if you ever came across a bear? I mean, there’s no way of knowing for sure, but I hope so?? Well, I hope to never be in the situation in the first place, obviously, but you know. There are people who have certainly been quite lucky in that situation and others not so much, so. I know you’re supposed to remain calm and not run, which I could probably do cause I’d likely freeze up in fear. I’ve seen videos of people, some of them have been children, who successfully got away.

12.   Where’s your favorite place to go? How long does it take to get there? The beach. The closest one is like 2 hours away.

13.   How often do you err on the side of caution? I’m a cautious person. And also just a big scardy cat.

14.   How often do people say they’re angry with you? People don’t say that, but I know people have been upset, frustrated, disappointed, and irritated with me.

15.   Do you own any long underwear? Long underwear? No...

16.   How much Tupperware do you own? *shrug* A lot.

17.   What color is your underwear right now? Blue and gray.

18.   Do you still sleep with a teddy bear? No. I have a few stuffed animals that always sit on my bed, though.

19.   What pair of your shoes has the most wear and tear? My Adidas Superstars. They’re not too bad, but you can definitely tell I wore them quite often.

20.   Do you like to play Solitaire? Ha, I haven’t played since I played the computer version as a kid on like Windows 98. I played that and messed around in Paint quite a bit, ha.

21.   Do you or your family own a full set of silverware? Yeah.

22.   What do you have to take everywhere with you? My bag with my medicine, hand sanitizer, phone, wallet, and straws. I’d also have to take a mask with me everywhere.

23.   Would you like to visit Delaware? I hadn’t really thought about it.

24.   Last time you received dental care? It’s been awhile. 

25.   If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? I’d want to really think about that if I could only choose one destination. There’s a lot of places I’d like to travel to one day.

26.   Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego? Did we ever find her? I don’t remember, ha. I used to watch the cartoon as a kid and I think I had a computer game, too.

27.   Are you satisfied sitting here, taking this survey, or would you rather be elsewhere? Right here in bed is the best place for me to be right now. 

28.   Last time you sat in a barber’s chair? I last got my hair done back in early February. 

29.   Do you own any cans of compressed air? No.

30.   Do you have a swivel chair at your desk? I don’t have a swivel chair or a desk.

31.   Do you prefer an armchair or a rocking chair? A reclining armchair. 

32.   Would you rather have a beanbag chair or a hanging swing chair in your room? Hanging swing chair.

33.   What’s the last non-survey related questionnaire that you had to fill out? This like 4 page questionnaire that one of my doctors hands out every visit. It’s the same exact questionnaire, too.

34.   Are there any crimes that you feel make someone deserving of the electric chair? Yes, like serial killers.

35.   Do you know anyone who uses a wheelchair? Yeah, me.

36.   Do you know anyone who is on welfare? Yes.

37.   Do you play Modern Warfare? Nope. Never had an interest in playing that.

38.   Do you ever feel like life is unfair? Of course.

39.   Have you ever visited Times Square? No. I’ve never been to New York, but I’d love to one day. I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to go before everything this year, but now I really don’t know.

40.   Do you tell people to “take care” at the end of a conversation with them? It’s not something I regularly say, but yeah sometimes.

41.   Where is somewhere that you would like to move to? I’m not sure.

42.   What is something in your home that needs to be repaired? A couple things.

43.   What kind of sleepwear do you own? I wear leggings and oversized graphic tees for pjs and my normal attire.

44.   What skin care products do you use? I haven’t been using any.

45.   Do you have any spyware on your computer? Apple computers come with all that stuff.

46.   Do you own any sportswear? What sports? Nope. Not a sports fan.

47.   Do you like Fred Astaire? I know who he is and I’ve seen clips of his dance scenes, but I haven’t actually watched any of his films. Well, I’ve heard his voice work in the Santa Clause is Comin’ to Town movie/cartoon, but that’s all.

48.   How long does it take you to prepare a meal? The only thing I cook is ramen, which takes like 10 minutes or so (I’m including the time to boil the water).

49.   Do you know anyone named Pierre? No.

50.   Are you going nowhere fast? It has and does feel that way. :/

51.   How often do you have a nightmare? Not often, thankfully. 

52.   How often are you able to catch something in mid-air? *shrug*

53.   What do your lawn chairs look like? We don’t have any lawn chairs.

54.   How many chairs are at your dining/kitchen table? We don’t have a dining/kitchen table either.

55.   Favorite type of footwear? Adidas sneakers.

56.   When’s the last time one of your senses were impaired? From what? I wear glasses if that counts?

57.   Have you ever been in a hot air balloon before? Noooo.

58.   Do you have a good health care plan? Yes.

59.   Last time you went to the hardware store? I don’t go to the hardware store.

60.   Have you ever played foursquare before? Yeah, I liked playing that in elementary school.

61.   Do you own any types of eyewear? Yep, my glasses.

62.   What brand of cookware do you have a lot of? Cuisine Art, probably.

63.   Nothing can compare to: You. 🎶 Ha.

64.   Have you ever worked in a childcare center? No.

65.   Do you have a “beware of dog” sign on your gate? No.

66.   Have you ever attended daycare as a child? No.

67.   Are you very aware of your surroundings? Yes.

68.   Have you ever had an au pair or a nanny before? No. My aunts, grandparents, or older brother babysat me.

69.   Do you know anyone who has had an affair? Yes.

70.   How much are you willing to spend on airfare? I don’t know, it would depend on certain factors regarding the trip.

71.   Who do you care about the most? My loved ones.

72.   Are you more likely to choose truth or dare? Truth, never dare. Or just not play at all, ha. 

73.   Have you ever seen the Blair Witch Project before? Yeah. Major cringe.

74.   Do you like the name Claire? Would you spell it with or without the I? Sure. I like the spelling with the “I.”

75.   Last time you went to a fair? When I was a kid.

76.   What can be done to make life more fair? Gah. 

77.   How much are you willing to spend on cab fare? I don’t know. Again, it would depend on certain factors.

78.   Do you have a lot of flair? No.

79.   Do you own flare jeans? No.

80.   Is there a glare on your computer screen right now? Yes.

81.   When’s the last time someone glared at you? I say my doggo gives me attitude and “the eye” sometimes, ha. Like when I tell my parents or brother that I gave her treats, so don’t let her trick you into getting more. She gives me a look like, “gee, thanks a lot for ratting me out!”

82.   What type of hair do you have? (color, length, texture, etc) How often do you wash it? Red, long, wavy hair. I wash it every 2-3 days.

83.   Do you know the difference between a rabbit and a hare? Yeah.

84.   Do you like to eat eclairs? I haven’t had one in a long time, but they are delicious.

85.   What do you consider to be your lair? My room.

86.   A female horse is called a mare. What is a male horse called? A baby horse? A male horse is a stallion and a baby is called a foal

87.   Have you ever used Nair before? Did it work? Blech, yeah I tried it when I was like 13/14. It worked, but it smelled SO bad.

88.   Has anyone ever told you to “grow a pair”? No.

89.   What is something that you own a pair of? Shoes.

90.   What is a rare quality that you have? I can’t think of one.

91.   Last food you pared? I don’t peel or chop anything.

92.   Do you know someone who is a debonair? No.

93.   Do you like to scare others for fun? No.

94.   What is something that scares you? The present and the future.

95.   Do you like Sonny and Cher? “I don’t know if all that’s true, but you got me and baby I got you. Babe. I got you, babe.”

96.   Do you know how to share? Do you like to share? Yeah.

97.   Have you ever played a snare drum before? No.

98.   What do you do with your spare change? Put it in one of my purses/bags.

99.   Do you know how to put on a spare tire? No. I’ve never tried to.

100. Have you ever gotten a spare while bowling before? I think so.

101. When’s the last time you wished someone would spare you the details? Recently, when someone shared something that was TMI.

102.  Do you win games fair and square? Yes. I like to just have fun and friendly competition, there’s no need to cheat or get upset about it. 

103. Do you know how to find the square root of something? Yeah.

104.   What are the characteristics of a square shape? 4 equal sides.

105. Have you ever been called a square before? Haha, yeah, jokingly. Well, the times I know of, ha. An “L-7 wienie.”

106.   Do you prefer the elevator or the stairs? Well, I have to take the elevator.

107.  Do you ever stare at other people? No. I’ve had to deal with that (people staring at me) all my life, though.

108. How often do you swear? Not that often.

109. Do you ever “swear on your life”? I don’t say that.

110. What do you like to “tear up”? An order of boneless wings from Wingstop, ha.

111. What type of wares would you sell? I don’t have anything to sell.

112. What kinds of clothing do you like to wear? Comfy clothing--leggings and oversized tees.

113. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare before? Nope.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[buttercookie-art]

Disclaimer: I’m just a fan. Not a critic or a reporter, this is not my job.

I liked it, that doesn’t come as a surprise. It’s a fresh start after Endgame. I don’t have any pros and cons, really. All I want to talk about it’s spoiler and I can’t articulate without ruining the movie for the ones who haven’t seen it yet. It got released in Italy today, so I guess there are a lot more people who haven’t seen it yet who deserve to enjoy it as much as the others did. I don’t really recommend it for those who are sensible at lights, there’s a lot of flashing. For the arachnophobic peanuts out there: there’s a scene in a battle after Prague with a very close close-up of a spider, beware.

On the movie, without spoilers: it’s still fresh and young as the first movie, we see what happened after Tony’s snap and the consequences of it all. Teens are still teens, but this time on vacation. Overseas. It’s a holiday trip teen movie with a heavy “we’ve been hijacked by Nick Fury” twist. If you’re a teen, you’ll relate. If you’re past your teen years, you’ll definitely relate too! I mean, I took one (1) school trip in all my life and those things happened to me and my school mates too. Unfortunately not the Nick Fury’s related ones. There are two post credit scenes. Both will blow your mind. Especially if you’ve read some comics or did some research in the past years ;)

                                              Spoilers under the cut

Now, moving on the spoiler-y section (I took some notes, so it will be in order):

That powerpoint presentation with the fallen ones and I will always love you. Guys, I was choking back tears and laughter.

Idk about the other Country’s songs, but the Italian ones… Well, they were Italians but I’ve never listened to them before. I’d guess and say the second one was from Venice’s traditions, but I’m not really sure. Any Venetian who can confirm or deny??

Boh. Michelle learns it while in Venice. She says two things about its use: it could mean I don’t know and/or piss off. Wrong. Boh, means I don’t know. The piss off part was invented.

A thought about Peter trying to glue everything back in Venice: he did more than Government and Unesco to preserve the art and architecture lol 

Beck mentioning Earth 616 got me flipping. Also, it confirmed he was on the bad side from the very beginning, I found it clever. Not that I walked in the theatre with doubts about it

Continuing on Beck, his back story is very good. I can totally understand his motifs. I’m actually impressed with Sony and Marvel. Good job guys. I had some fears about it, ngl

Can we talk about the prison scene for a hot second? Hooligans or mere Netherlands nt supporters taking care of him? Giving him their shirt? Making Tom Holland wear a Holland jersey? I call this Pun service.

We’re going to replace #GiveTonyStarkabreak with #GivePeterParkerABreak, aren’t we?

I love Led Zeppelin. I wanted to smack him, but I was emotional.

Peter realising/knowing he can’t be the next Iron-Man because he is his own person/hero cleared my skin and watered my crops. I’ve been living on the edge thinking about Sony-Marvel screwing his character even more.

I have a love-hate relationship with Tony/Peter parallels, tbh

Happy has completely taken on his role as babysitter. One might even dare to say he’s a Steve Harrington 2.0. His relationship with May is cute, I like it better than May/JJJ ;)

We finALLY GOT SPIDER-MENACE AND J JONAH JAMESON!!!

JK Simmons playing J Jonah Jameson. My personal Marvel fan cast has happened. Not just mine, because I’ve seen other people dream about it too. I can’t believe it’s real. Someone pinch me. (Edit: I re-read this point and it looks like JK Simmons has never played JJJ before lol. What I mean is: I’m happy he reprised the role in the MCU, since I couldn’t think of anyone else to portray the character)

Everyone now knows who Spider-man really is. Like, at the end of the movie, with that voiceover, I thought we were going to get the infamous Civil War reveal (they had teased us at May’s party) so I knew it was coming… but like this? Almost utter shock.

Maria and Nick were Kree all along. Which explains why they felt a bit off, I even wrote I didn’t like how stupid and naive Fury acted in my notes. Happy there was an explanation at the end of the movie and not after it.

The actual Nick Fury is working on a Kree ship, in space… I guess the rumours about phase four being set mainly in space is confirmed.

Edit: I came down from cloud nine and wanted to talk about a few more things

Peter: home boi got good character development, but it came to a “cost”. We don’t really see his nerdy side, except for Nick/Thalos mentioning his love for pop culture, him getting excited about the multiverse and making his new suit. I wish we could see more of it, maybe in the next movie? But I doubt it. 

Michelle: if I had my doubts during Homecoming, now I have none. It’s still pretty weird that everyone calls her MJ, because she’s not. Mary Jane has always been that character portraited has the most beautiful and popular among the others. The angelic one. With a strong feminine look. Michelle is none of it. And I adore it. She likes things that are considered weird, wears dark clothes and Peter falls for her not for how she looks, but how she is. I’m very happy with how they have written her. Finally, a character played by a woman who it’s not portrayed as the “femme fatale”  nor the “strong woman tm”. She just a normal kid, with her own sense of humour and her own interests. 

Ned: There’s not enough. He has a few interactions with Peter and that’s it. I know that the movie has already a lot to show, but I really missed them together, plotting and getting in trouble

Zombies: one of Mysterio’s illusions was Tony’s grave from which an Iron Man zombie crawled out from. It was a great easter egg. And... maybe will see more of it in one of the Marvel’s What/Ifs?

Tony hate: second movie, second villain who turned bad because Tony Stark was a billionaire asshole. It makes sense, don’t get me wrong, they’re written very well but... I wonder for how long they can keep going now that he’s dead. I liked how they played this card, though. Lately, Tony’s has been portrayed as this good Samaritan guy only. Forgetting that he has his issues too, which they weren’t just mental health related. It was a good reminder.

[thefandomdirtymind]

Magic Touch 4

Marvel 

Tony Stark x Reader

Magic Touch Serie : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 

The next morning, you found the store in a real mess. Everywhere, construction worker was busy like ants. A small group was placing the new window, repairing the one Iron Man had destroy when he does his entrance to save you. Other was cleaning the floor, removing the torn tapestry or changing the broken lock.  

Pushing the door, you nod of the head at few curious worker. Sit at a small table, you boss was drinking a coffee with two gentleman, wearing both a suit who’s probably cost more that you whole wardrobe. Lifting his eyes of the paper in front of him, he leave his chair for greeting you. 

“ Y/N  ! How are you, the police tell me what’s happen, you was already gone when I had reach the store yesterday,  i’m so glad you’re okay ! “ He exclaim, showing you more emotion in that huge minute that he have in the entire five years of business relation. 

“ I’m fine, a little bit tired, but, it will pass when I will start working” You say, looking around you, trying to estimate the time it will take to be ready to open. 

“ I’m not sure if we will open today, in fact, Y/N I want to present you Mr. Freeman and Mr. Elwes. They are the lawyer and architect of Mr. Stark. He had make a offert to buy the shop ! “ 

Surprise, you look at him, greeting finally the two men before being impolite. 

“ He want to buy the coffee shop” You ask, like if you wasn’t sure to heard right. 

“ Yes “ Mr. Freeman, the lawyer, reply with a voice more low that you though he possess.” Mr.Stark desire to buy this coffee, he already pay for the repair of the broken window and other importante need of the store. He don’t want to change the formula, but maybe doing some architectural amelioration and change the hours of opening. It’s really clear in the request he made. “ 

Opening you mouth, you close it quickly, now knowing the real reason of his little illogical business decision. 

“ I should work a little for at least two customers” You say “ Mr. Stark and Mr. Happy take their coffee here each morning without exception. If we don’t open today, I suggest I bring them one, It could be a bad idea to not give what he like to our new boss “ You said, removing already your coat.

“ Good Idea Y/N,the kitchen is clear and clean, like you let it yesterday" The little man say,losing all interest in you, taking his sit again to finish is meeting with the business man.

" The tower is under protection, we not sure they will let you come in, but, maybe we could call Mr. Happy to come here take the coffees." The architect inform you with a kind but superior smile.

" I'm not worried, Jarvis know me, he will open the door for me i'm sure " You let escape before heading to the kitchen. 

Waiting for the coffee to be ready, you start to draw on Tony’s cup. Your first though was to draw the Iron hand pouring dollars bills, but you think it could be a little bit childish. After all, you wasn’t completely mad that he brought the coffee shop, just a little bit irritated that he didn’t talk about it before and, even if the reason was pretty evident, you try to scold yourself that maybe, buying the store was already in his mind before the event of yesterday. You finally drew the iron man mask, adding the last few reflect detail before pouring the precious brown liquid and adding the cinnamon touch. 

Putting the two cup and the small bakery bag in a travel tray, you put your light coat on and leave the construction area behind you, traveling the small way between the tower and your work place. 

Standing in front of the large glass door, you look around, trying to find a handle or at least the small button of an interphone. But, you found nothing else that the plate with the number of the building. 

“ Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N I came to give Mr. Stark and Mr. Happy their coffee. “ You say at loud, hoping that someones what looking at you with an hidden camera.

“ Miss Y/L/N, welcome back, I will inform Mr. Stark that your here. “ The familiar voice of Jarvis inform you, opening the door in the same time. “ I hope you have sleep well, it’s a true pleasure too see you again.” The robotic voice say. 

Smiling, you passing the door, enjoying the beautiful effect of the sunlight on the white marble. 

“ Good morning Jarvis. I sleep well yes thank you. I’m really glad to talk to you too.” You answer, liking more and more the artificial assistant. 

The sound of the elevator door opening, take you by surprise. 

“ Mr. Stark wait for you in his workshop.” 

“ Good, can you please inform Happy that I have a coffee for him too ? “ You ask, not wanting to give a cold breuvage to the so sweet bodyguard / driver. 

“ I have inform M.Happy about the coffee, he seem really glad you have think of him, you can put it on the desk.”

Obeying, you leave the cup and one of the chocolate pastry with a napkin on the long pale surface.The elevator cabin seem more bigger that the night before, but, you didn’t say it out loud, thinking that maybe it was an effect of the small shock you have suffer. 

Stepping inside, you watch the door close, a nervous feeling starting to grow in your stomach. What happen if Tony just act with you like your kisses never happen, it was maybe a way to calm you down, after all the man is a well know womanizer when he's single.

“ Have a nice day Miss Y/L/N” Jarvis finally said busting your thought when you reach the secret workshop. 

“ Thank you Jarvis” You reply, looking the door opening.

A loud rock music you knew was filling the room, AC/DC, back in black, was amplify by the tall metal wall. Somewhere in the middle of the room, Tony was standing in front of his desk, wearing a casual sweat pants and tank top, clearly waiting for you. A pair of protection glasses was crossing his messy brown hair, a smile you never seen before was on his lips.  

“ Jarvis, low the volume. Morning Y/N what a surprise and a kind attention” He say, approaching you, taking the tray to put it appart, focusing is attention in you and only you. 

His hand, previously handling the carton tray, was now on you waist, pulling you slowly closer. His brown eyes lock in your yours.

“ Can I kiss you or it was only a luck I had yesterday ? “  He ask you, joking but asking for your approval. 

Biting your lips, you smile, the knock in your stomach now totally vanish.

“ You can, but we have to have a talk after “ You answer, already closing your eyes. 

“ Talking ? It so overrated, i’m more a lover that a talker” He respond, putting finally is lips on yours. 

The kiss was as magical that before. The man knew exactly when add his tongue and how much pressure he have to put with his teeth on your bottom lips to make you melt.

Stepping back slowly, you try to not blush or show that this kiss was the better "good morning" of your life. But by is small smirk, you knew that he already know that.

" Thank you for the coffee love" Tony say, giving you some space you didn't want, for reach his coffee cup and spy in the pastry bag.

" Tony, you want to buy my workplace...why ? " You finally ask, having a last hope that maybe it wasn't because of you after all.

Tony stay silence for few minute, enjoying the first slip of hot coffee and cinnamon crashing like a wave on in tongue. Once the first drop of caféine had reach his soul, he gave you a side look, trying to understand if you was angry or not.

"Yeah well, the decoration wasn't really modern enough. I think we can make it a really big affair, with your wonderful coffee and maybe some iron man exclusive picture hang on the wall, it could be really great and maybe opening other store in the futur" He say, joking a little. But, you easily see that he was hiding the true reason. His smile, usually so bright was going on and off.

" You bigger demand was to stop the late shift. It's was not just about become modern " You reply, crossing you arms.

"Fine, I judge that it wasn't enough secure and your boss isn't really into putting more security so I buy it. You will be safe and it will be more easy for me to not....thinking of you all the time, wondering if your okay. It was a necessary transaction" He finish, now serious.

"Yesterday was an accident...an event who’s happen sometimes but not always. You don’t need to do all that.” You protest, discovering a new part of the personality of the billionaire. 

“ Yes I have to, I’m Iron Man, it’s my job to protect people...and I have to protect even more the people I care about. “ Sighing, he put the cup down. “ Take it like a upgrade of the administration if you want, but please, do it for me.” 

“ How can you care that much...we just start to know each other” You shyly retort.

“ I know “ He reply. “ but the way you act with Happy, he really like you by the way. You’re personality, these funny little draw you take time to put on each of my cup...this funny but so innocent view of the world, I like that and I want to see more of you. Maybe take you on a date ? “

“ The famous Tony Stark do that, having dates ?” You tell with humour, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Laughing, he take you in his arms. 

“ Yes I do sometimes, come on, i’m not just a genius, rumor say that i’m human too” He joke, stealing you a kiss. “ I have a charity gala tomorrow night, please tell me you will come with me. Or I will have to bring Happy and he will look horrible in the dress I have plan to give you “ 

Laughing at the mental view of the big guy in a dress, you bite your lips.

“ It’s a date then” 

“ It’s a date” He reply, offering you a wink. “ So, now your here, what do you thinking of a visit of my workshop “ 

Giving a look to the sexy man, you softly smile. 

“ Show me your world, genius” 

Tag : @jadepc 

[buriednurbckyrd]

Valentine’s Day Do-Over

Sequel to Lose Control Bucky wants to give you a good V-Day after learning of a dark cloud hanging over the day in your past.  (Also available on AO3)

Valentine's day: one of the most polarizing days of the year.  People seemed to either love it or hate it.  Bucky was trying to figure out which category Y/N fell in, but she was irritatingly vague about the whole thing whenever he tried to casually broach the subject.  He was still nervous about navigating their relationship, and the thought of doing anything that would disappoint or upset her was unbearable.  Just when he thought he was at his wits end, he caved and went to the one person that knew Y/N better than he did.  

“Ah, V-Day,” Natasha tapped her chin thoughtfully.  “Here's the thing, Barnes, Y/N is at her core, a hopeless romantic.”  

“So I should plan something?”  He asked.  

“Well...”  She looked uncomfortable.  “To be honest I'm torn between loyalty to my best friend, and the desire to finally see her have the Valentine's day she wants and deserves.”

“I don't follow, why would there be a question of loyalty?”  Natasha sighed and sat down, motioning for Bucky to join her.  

“A few years ago she was seeing someone,” she began as he took a seat.  “It was going well, and he asked her out for a typical Valentine's date night.  She was so excited, but he called her half an hour before he was supposed to pick her up and canceled.”  

“Why?”  She let out another long sigh.

“He told her that there was a work emergency.  Of course she was disappointed, but she understood.  I thought it would be nice to go out anyway, since she was already dressed up, so I called up the restaurant and used Tony's name to get us a table.  It's amazing how fast a supposedly booked restaurant will find room when there's a billionaire involved.” Bucky began to suspect how the story was going to end and felt ill. “So we get there, dressed to nines and ready to enjoy a fancy dinner thanks to Tony's credit card and who do we see when we walk in?”  

“Do I even have to guess?”  Natasha shook her head sadly.

“That asshole is wrapped around another woman in a very un-work related way.  If the whole thing hadn't been so infuriating I might have laughed at the cliché of it all.”

“Bastard.” Bucky growled and clenched his fist so hard his knuckles popped.  

“I could have twisted his arrogant little head right off his neck, but Y/N just gives the hostess that charming smile of hers and before I know it she's pulling me back outside like nothing happened.”  Natasha picked up a throw pillow and punched it.  “The worst part of the whole thing is that she was sure she deserved it.  Of course she'd never say that.”  

“No, she wouldn't...”  Bucky said quietly, almost to himself.  It was something he knew all too well about her.  Even before their relationship had turned romantic he would find himself fuming when she let people get away with treating her badly.  And if anyone confronted her about it she would just shrug as if it was just the way things were.  “What did she do?”  

“Nothing.  We came back here and she went to bed.  A few days later she leaves for a few hours and when she comes back she raids Tony's liquor stash and gets spectacularly drunk without any explanation.  Steve and I had to help her to her room and she finally cracked.”  She paused and looked at him seriously.  “I'm still not sure I should be telling you all this.”

“I'm not sure I want to hear it, but maybe I need to so I can understand her better.” Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  

“While we were putting her in bed she started crying...”

...

“I'm sorry.” Y/N sobbed.  “I'm sorry I'm such a mess.”  Steve tugged her shoes off of her feet and smiled gently at her.  

“It's okay, sweetheart, everyone has bad days.  You don't need to apologize.”  

“I can take it from here, Cap,”  Natasha told him.  “Thanks for the help.”  

“No problem,” he looked over at the crying woman with worry.  “I've never seen her break down like this before.”  He whispered.  

“Neither have I, she doesn't really drink.  And I can't remember the last time she was this upset.”  

“Maybe she'll talk to you.  Call me if you need anything.”  Natasha thanked him again and shut the door behind him.  She walked over to her sniffling friend and helped her out of her clothes and into some pajamas.  

“Alright hon,” she said, handing Y/N a bottle of water.  “Drink some of that and tell me what happened.  Where did you disappear to?”  

“I went to see him.”  Y/N said miserably.  “I just wanted to know why.” Natasha swallowed down her anger, knowing it would only upset her friend more.  “She answered the door.  Laughed at me.  Told me he was done playing with the pitiful fat girl...”

…

Natasha's voice trailed off.  Bucky felt an ache in his chest, too many emotions swirling inside for him to process.  “She spent the rest of the night sick and miserable, but after sleeping off one hell of a hangover she never brought it up again.  If I tried to talk to her about it, she'd change the subject.”

“I know you didn't just let him get away with it, even if Y/N wouldn't do anything.” She smirked.    

“Six months later he married that woman.  Huge, tacky society nonsense, with a very expensive and lavish honeymoon planned.  It was such a shame that he showed up to the airport only to find he's on the no fly list and the whole thing had to be canceled.  I hear his new bride really let him have it and they had to be escorted out of the airport by security.” Natasha shrugged.  “I never claimed to be nice.  Y/N has all the sweetness in this friendship.”  Bucky laughed.  

“I'd say that was a pretty light punishment for you.  Still, I bet it was pretty humiliating.  But what should I do?  Does Y/N hate Valentine's day because of that idiot?”

“I wouldn't say she hates it, but I just think she doesn't expect anyone to make a fuss over her.”  Bucky mulled the new information over in his head. Y/N's indifference made a lot more sense to him after hearing Natasha's story.

“Thanks, Natasha,” he said, getting up.  “I'll figure something out.”  

…

Y/N called out a greeting as she walked into Tony's workshop.  He wasn't working on anything yet, so the deafening music he usually had playing was absent.  

“Hey, T.  I braved the crappy weather and surprisingly packed cafe so I picked up your favorite.”  She placed a large to go cup next to him.  

“Don't know what I'd do without you, sweetheart.”  Tony took a long sip of hot coffee.  “Oh yeah, that's the stuff that makes life worth living.” He raised an eyebrow when she took a seat at his table and pulled her laptop out of her bag.  Y/N looked up as she opened it.

“What?  I thought I'd enjoy my coffee and check my email.  I told you the cafe was packed.”  

“Not that I don't enjoy your company, but why here?  Why not just go to your office?”

“Because then it's like I'm working.  If I'm in here, then it doesn't feel like I've started my day before I'm ready to.”  She gulped down some of her drink and clicked away at her keyboard.  

“So you haven't been to your office at all yet?”  Y/N paused at her typing.  

“No?  Are you trying to get rid of me, Tony?”  He scratched the back of his head.

“No.”  

“Liar.  If you don't want me here, just say so.”  Y/N snapped her computer shut and tucked it under her arm.  Tony darted in front of her and held his hands up.  

“Hey, I don't not want you in here.  Really.”

“Okay…  Well I'm already half way into my storm out, if I don't finish it it'll be so lame.”  Tony laughed and kissed her forehead.  

“As someone that appreciates a good storm out, I won't stand in your way.  Thank you for the coffee.”  

“You're welcome. Now please slam the door behind me.”  He laughed and let the door shut hard in her wake before pulling his phone out of his pocket. She's on her way to her office, he typed out and hit 'send'.  

Y/N switched her coffee into her other hand, wishing she had just put her computer back into her bag like a normal person.  She tightened her arm against it to keep it from slipping out of her hold and punched in the security code to unlock her office and lab space.  As she walked inside she flipped the light switch with her elbow and set her things down on a desk with relief. As she propped her door open she spotted something brightly colored out of the corner of her eye and gasped when she turned to look.  A bouquet of red, white, and pink carnations sat on her main lab table in a simple glass vase.  With a smile she buried her nose into the petals and inhaled the light, sweet scent.  She plucked the card off the plastic stick.

I know you like these more than roses.  I got you flowers because I like you more than anyone else, but I think you already knew that.  I love you, Doll. -Bucky

“Oh, Bucky...” she sighed happily.

“Happy Valentine's day.”  Y/N whirled around in surprise.  Bucky stood in the doorway, looking a little awkward, but he was grinning.  

“These are beautiful, thank you.”  She threw herself into his arms, giggling when his hands slid down to her butt.  “You sir, are incorrigible.”  

“I can't help myself.  You're my best girl, and you have the best ass.”  He leaned down and kissed her.  

“Mmm, I don't know what's got you all frisky today, but I like it.”  

“I was hoping you wouldn't mind ditching work for the day.”  Y/N draped her arms around his neck.  

“I could be persuaded.  What would I be doing instead?”  Bucky pulled a pink foil wrapped chocolate heart out of his pocket.  

“Being my valentine?”  Y/N felt her heart melt inside her chest and settle into her stomach.

“As long as you'll be mine right back.” she replied.

…

Bucky had a quiet day planned.  He called dibs on the theater room and had a stack of Y/N's favorite movies waiting for them to watch, thanks to Natasha's help.  He hadn't seen most of the films, and it was one of their favorite things to do together.  

“A movie day?”  Y/N looked around at the set up.  

“I thought it would be fun.”  he said a little nervously.  Maybe it wasn't enough and she expected more.  

“I love it, Bucky.  It's perfect.”  She hugged him.  “Can I go change into something comfy, though?”  Bucky cleared his throat and pulled away.  

“Actually, I um, got something for you.”  He handed her a clumsily wrapped package.  

“What's this?”  She carefully tore the paper open.  “Oh!  You thought of everything!” It was a pair of fleece pajama pants covered in a heart pattern.    

“You like them, they aren't too cheesy?”  Y/N shimmied out of her jeans and pulled them on.  

“I love them, they're adorable,” she kissed his cheek.  “Just like my amazing boyfriend.  I have something for you too, actually.” she said a little shyly.

“You can give it to me later, right now it's about you, okay?”  Y/N felt a lump catch in her throat and blinked back some tears before nodding.  She couldn't trust her voice for a moment, overwhelmed by everything Bucky had already done for her.  

The two of them settled in, deciding to begin with The Princess Bride, cuddling on one of the oversized sofas.  Bucky found himself in his favorite spot, reclining against Y/N while she ran her fingers through his hair, it never failed to relax him.  There were a few moments during their viewing that he found himself nearly nodding off, her touch soothing him to the point of being drowsy, so he finally and reluctantly shifted.  

“I have more chocolate.”  He said, offering more of the foil covered hearts.  He unwrapped one for himself and popped it in his mouth.  

“I think it's cute you went and got Valentine's stuff,” she giggled after biting into one of the candies.  “I'm kind of glad you didn't get those conversation hearts, they always tasted like chalk to me.”

“I remember those from when I was a kid, I always thought they were gross too.”  He put his arm around her and she nestled against his side.  

…

Several hours and movies later, Bucky decided he was hungry for food that wasn't chocolate or heart shaped.  They were both too comfortable to want to go out for dinner so Bucky suggested they order a pizza.  

“Actually, why don't you let me cook you dinner?  I picked up a couple of steaks yesterday when I went shopping.  Plus I can give you your gift.” Y/N stood up and pulled him to his feet.    

“You don't have to cook for me, and I can wait for my present, Doll.  I wanted this day to be for you.”  She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.  

“And I've had a wonderful day.  From those beautiful flowers, to a whole day watching my favorite movies, just being with you and not worrying about work…  But you're my Valentine too, and I want to give you something because I love you.”  Bucky smiled.  

“Okay, I guess you make a fair point.  But using that look on me is cheating, you know I can't resist it.”  

“It's not my fault you're powerless against me.  Maybe I'll start calling you The Winter Softie.”  Bucky growled and kissed her hard, nipping at her lips and making her giggle.  “James!  If you want food you have to stop manhandling me!”  

“Maybe I changed my mind and I want to skip right to dessert.” He ran his lips over her jaw and he could practically hear her resolve crumbling.

“You're playing really dirty, you know that right?”  

“I can't get enough of you, Doll.”  He murmured.  

“The feeling is very mutual, but I really want to cook you a nice dinner. I didn't just happen to buy all the ingredients, I kind of planned on surprising you tonight.”

“Huh?” He stepped back.  “I thought you weren't into the whole Valentine's day thing.”  Y/N looked at him in confusion.  

“If you thought I wasn't into it, why did you plan all of this?”  

“So you wouldn't hate it anymore?”

“Who said I hated Valentine's day?”  Crap.  

“Uh… Well you kept blowing it off whenever I asked you about it, never giving me any kind of idea whether or not you wanted to do anything. So I um, asked Natasha for advice.”  When she only continued to stare at him, Bucky swallowed and continued.  “She told me what happened a few years ago.”  Y/N sighed and sat down on the couch, resting her forehead against the palm of her hand.  “Please don't be mad.”

“I'm not mad, Bucky.  I should have just given you a straight answer.  I'm not thrilled that Natasha told you about that, but I'm not angry.” She lifted her head up and Bucky wanted to kick himself when he saw tears in her eyes.  

“But you're upset, and that's the one thing I never wanted to do.”  He crouched down in front of her and cupped her hands in his.  “Don't let some idiot that didn't know what he had ruin something for you.”

“You didn't upset me.  I'm not even really crying because of him either. I wouldn't let him have that much power over me.  Yeah, what happened was very hurtful.  Yeah, I had to cry about it and feel really shitty.  And maybe for a few years I wanted to hate this day because it reminded me of a time when I didn't feel great about myself.  Then you came along and I started thinking that maybe it is just a silly holiday that doesn't mean a whole lot, but there's nothing wrong with celebrating it.  I thought it was important to you, because you kept bringing it up.”

“I just wanted to make this your Valentine's day memory.  Instead of what happened before.  I just wanted you to be happy.”  Bucky said quietly.  

“You make me happy every day, Buck.  I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise.  It's hard for me, to let someone in, you know?  I hardly think about that guy, but I guess I carry that baggage around with me, even if I don't realize I do.”  

“You make me happy every day, too.”  He told her, wiping a tear away with his thumb.  Y/N smiled and kissed his lips gently.  

“Can I cook you dinner now that I ruined Valentine's day?”  Bucky laughed.

“You didn't ruin anything, and yes.”  He took her hand and pulled her up.  “Give me a hint about my present?”

“There's two parts, actually.  First part is… something that you wear.”  

“Give me a better hint.”  She giggled.  

“It's a new motorcycle jacket.  I saw it and I started to fantasize how you'd look in it so...”  They got on the elevator to go up to her floor.  Bucky backed her into the wall, caging her between his arms.

“And part two?”  He asked, his gaze on her nearly predatory.  

“Something…I wear.”  Bucky's fingers crept under her shirt.  

“Oh, Doll, you know I want to know more.”  She ran her hands up his chest and gripped his shirt.  

“Something I won't be wearing for very long.”  The elevator doors opened and he pulled her out, taking long strides towards her private rooms.  

“We're definitely having dessert first.”  Y/N laughed, blissfully happy that she'd finally had a Valentine's day worth remembering.

[postguiltypleasures]

Goodbye to Younger

Unfortunate to say, I don’t think I have ever seen Sutton Foster on Broadway. I watched her previous show, the one season wonder, Bunheads, and felt obliged to follow her to Younger. I don’t have particularly strong feelings about Sex and the City, show runner Darren Star’s previous hit. There are huge gaps in the episodes I’ve seen, and I haven’t seen any since the first movie came out. I enjoyed watching it with friends, but never tried it alone. I bring this up, because I have mostly watched Younger all alone. The series about a recently divorced forty year old woman named Liza who lies about her age to get a job in publishing after years of being a stay at home mom. She lives with an artist friend her real age (Maggie), befriends a colleague her fake age (Kelsey) and quickly get in a love triangle with men from each age group (Charles and Josh, respectively). The first season wasn’t that well received. There were times while watching it that if felt cringeworthy. Criticism of being out of touch with the publishing industry was definitely warranted. I remember reading a review that called out an early plot involving Joyce Carol Oates not having a Twitter account when she really does have one and frequently trends for not great reasons. I cringed while watching that episode. (The reviewer, Miriam Krule was wrong about the long term treatment of the character of Diana. Younger would have been unwatchable if she were right long term.) After the first season Breanne L Heldman published an interesting interview on Yahoo! News with Darren Star and Marti Noxon about having buzzy shows on unexpected networks. But also Kate Dries at Jezebel also wrote an item about Hilary Duff, who plays Kelsey, covering Fleetwood Mac’s “Little Lies” that doubles as a “who’s actually watching Duff’s new show?” bit.

With the second season the press got immediately better. New Yorker critic (and long time SATC fan) Emily Nussbaum wrote a positive review about how the show mixes froth with more serious subjects like agism and difficult divorces. And from then on the critical response was generally good-but inclined to dismiss as fluff.

(I have to interject, the episodes that Liza’s ex-husband showed up seem to dampen the real reasons for their divorce and I am torn between seeing this as a sign of him actually being charming, and the show needing to move on quickly from exploring too dark topics.)

The ensemble gelled and I wanted to highlight this charming interview Molly Bernard, who played Lauren, did an

interview with Maria Elena Fernandez back in 2016. I liked this interview. She talks a lot about what her grandfather meant to her, as a person and acting coach. It covers too many of her gigs to be really insightful for Younger, but that is part of the charm. It’s interesting to focus on Lauren as a character representing the spirit of the series. My first impression was an impersonal, crass caricature of a millennial, what Liza had to work against to convince people that she is a millennial. At the end of the first season she threw herself a “Hot-Mitzvah”, like a Bat Mitzvah for when the awkward years the celebration normally occurs during are over a. The first episode of the final season includes a party for her thirtieth birthday, making something of a full circle moment. The first party definitely worked more for the show’s dramatic purposes, which is related to a theme in this good bye.

During the penultimate season, while the show was was at its peak of being loved by the people, Alissa Wilkinson dedicated one of Vox’s (now defunct) Episode of the Week columns to her changing thoughts on the series’s central love triangle. wrote about. I chose to include this article while I started drafting this, before the season actually aired, in the hopes that I would finish writing by the end of the season. (Obviously, it really didn’t work out.) The article covers Wilkinson’s impression of the show from the beginning. She was Team Charles in the love triangle, but plot points within the first four episodes of the sixth season made her rethink that. As the final season disappointed some of the show’s biggest supporters were disappointed, I thought of it as insightful on how the show could make terrible missteps, and that the love triangle was not as well weighted as viewers hoped earlier on.

The first article I saw going into the final season was on the AV Club written by Innes Bellina. The headline promised that the new episode would remind fans why they love it. Interestingly, it seems positive to optimistic about some aspects of the plot that others would later said made the season terrible, such as Maggie’s plot. It’s even warm towards a plot involving a Greta Thuneberg stand in, that I watched wondering, “will people who like this show more than me love this?” Based on Twitter anecdotes, they mostly didn’t.

At TVLine there were a couple of interviews with the cast. The first, written by Andy Swift is filled with assurances that despite the extended hiatus things will be exactly as intended and as the viewers have always loved. The second is also by Andy Swift and focuses on the Josh/Liza/Charles love triangle. Interestingly they insist that the Love Triangle was never that big a deal, it was always about Team Liza. There is a certain amount of sense to this, but it might also be related to one of the bigger problems fans had with the final season, which is how isolated Josh felt from the rest of cast, especially if they were going to have (spoiler) the implied rekindling of his relationship with Liza that the final scene suggests.

Before the season premiered, Scarlet Harris published an essay in Bitch praising the female friendships, in particular between Liza and Kelsey and Liza and Diana. The essay clearly loves this aspect of the show, but also highlights how dissappointing the the men and the cis hit romantic relationships with them are frustrating. It comes with the hope and the final season would have Liza choosing herself and focusing on her and Kelsey’s friendship and professional goals. It’s an interesting pice to look back on and consider why the final season didn’t satisfy many fans. Ultimately the show was attempting to spin off Kelsey, (in the final episode she announces plans to move to Los Angeles) and it spent a lot the season with her trying to make her job after demotion better, but ultimately deciding that she had to move on. I did kind of like how Kelsey being demoted and Charles returning to his position as publisher wasn’t treated as a reset. That there were lingering frustrations all around. It’s just that some of these frustrations led to real non starters of plots.

If anything prepared me for the change in temperature for this season when the New York Times ran an article by Alexis Soloski pondering if Younger and The Bold Type ending this season meant that this was the end of portraying media jobs as glamorous, well paying and aspirational. It focuses more on The Bold Type, but the general idea that Younger was out of step with the now.

Then came some surprise tweets from Emily Nussbaum:

Man, Younger is bad this season The Maggie plot feels ripped from Californication, of all bad influences A full-on bummer-wish they found a way to just tie things up & end it. It’s not even parodying publishing anymore (and avoiding subjects like race entirely.)

Also, I’m happy to suspend belief, but in what universe would Kelssey [sic], a hardened, trend-spotting Millenial publisher, and Lauren, an influencer publicist, credulously join a reality show & non imagine a bad edit? C’mon.

It’s so bizarre that Younder has shriveled into full hate-watchability in a single season. I can’t remember a steeper quality decline! What the hell happened over there.

So the things that I thought of as quirks of the series that I learned to leave on a curve, were actually things that made people who loved the series deeply dislike the season. This confused me. How to make sense of it?

I'm going to look at a couple of final season interviews and try and make sense from that side.

Laura Benanti, who played the Billionaire (and Liza’s romantic rival) Quinn, was interviewed by Vulture Devon Ivie. She discusses her character’s Sound of Music speech in which she identifies as the Baroness and identifies Liza as Maria. Benanti relates to this speech as she has played both roles. They discuss how the fans frustration with the love triangle directs most of the anger towards Charles, instead of Quinn. While they praise this as an enlightened response, it might also be fans turning on the show. Why invest in a story about Liza’s relationship with Charles when he doesn’t seem worth ending up with?

After the season ended, Sutton Foster gave an interview to Elizabeth Wagmeister at Variety. Foster is very enthusiastic about the final season. She loves how open ended it is about Liza’s love life, (she and Josh reenact their meet cute in the final scene) and that Liza is in a good place professionally. The various frustrating steps getting there aren’t addressed. I like that she and Charles realize they aren’t going to work out and ending things. That might have played better if so much of the season wasn’t about pining for him while he got in a bad relationship with Quinn. The possibility of rekindling things with Josh might have played better if they interacted more in the season. (That said, Josh was always closer to the spirit of the show than Charles. Also this is at least the third show I’ve watched in which the solution to a cis-het couple disagreeing about having children, where the man wants one and the woman doesn’t is resolved by him having a child with another woman. Individually I’m fine with the stories, but I hate that it’s a trend.) Foster also discusses how the show is escapist, and a fantasy while talking about how the show didn’t address COVID-19.

Earlier, I wondered how the show would address the Trump administration, and ultimately, they didn’t. Part of me thinks the thing that went wrong for former fans is related to the attempt to stay light and fantasy like in the face of so many painful changes. For most of the show’s existence I wanted someone to talk to about it in comparison to Sex and the City. It had a more regular plots about not having money and gentrification. Its take on its main four female leads romantic lives ended up differently, but they may have had similar problems with the romantic relationships. Somehow, trying to stay a light fantasy seems to turn into not really learning. I’m not sure if the final season was disappointing because of a decline in quality, or circumstances highlighting its worst tendencies. In any case, it was the show ending I was most ready to say good bye to, and now I have.

[tabloidtoc]

Us, April 5

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: All Eyes on Duchess Kate

Page 2: Red Carpet -- Hollywood is in full bloom with the perfect inspo to put a little spring in your step -- Elle Fanning, Kate Middleton, Cate Blanchett, Jennifer Lopez, Lupita Nyong'o

Page 3: Mindy Kaling, Kathryn Newton, Gabrielle Union, Caitriona Balfe, Penelope Cruz

Page 4: Who Wore It Best? Scarlett Johansson vs. Delilah Belle Hamlin vs. Ingrid Andress in Tom Ford

Page 6: Loose Talk -- Jennifer Garner on finally getting her ears pierced at age 48, Cardi B's thoughts on Selena Gomez possibly stepping away from music, Michelle Obama on living with messy daughters Malia and Sasha, Soleil Moon Frye recalling her first consensual sexual experience with Charlie Sheen, Kim Kardashian West on how much her voice has changed over 20 seasons of Keeping Up With the Kardashians

Page 8: Contents

Page 10: Hot Pics -- ahead of the Miami Open Venus Williams took a break from practice to play with her dog Harold

Page 11: Adam Levine and Behati Prinsloo were attached at the hip during an outing in Montecito, Paul McCartney enjoyed a beach day while on vacation in St. Barts, sporting a massive diamond ring Bethenny Frankel was at the beach in Miami

Page 12: Paris Hilton's Lanvin dress paired perfectly with her bubblegum-hued Bentley, Jared Leto looked unrecognizable while filming House of Gucci in Italy and meanwhile Lady Gaga and Adam Driver continued shooting scenes the following day

Page 13: Britney Spears looked to be in good spirits while out with boyfriend Sam Asghari in L.A., Robin Roberts hammed it up for the camera on the set of Good Morning America, Kourtney Kardashian couldn't keep her hands off new beau Travis Barker after enjoying a dinner date in L.A.

Page 14: Baby on Board -- Selling Sunset's Christine Quinn, Gal Gadot, Lauren Burnham with husband Arie Luyendyk Jr., Christina Milian showed off her growing belly in a floral lingerie set by Savage x Fenty

Page 16: Flex Zone -- with warmer days ahead, stars push their bodies harder -- Nicole Scherzinger and Thom Evans, Kate Hudson added three pound dumbbells to her fitness routine, Eva Longoria works out with a trampoline, Cara Delevingne does yoga, Kevin Hart was joined by son Hendrix for a sweat sesh, Gabrielle Union working out

Page 18: Stars They're Just Like Us -- Jax Taylor took out the trash and recycling bins in L.A., Ally Brooke put on sunscreen she bought at CVS in L.A., after food shopping Ariel Winter packed her car with goodies in L.A.

Page 20: Love Lives -- Katy Perry and Orlando Bloom sparked marriage rumors after she was seen wearing a gold band on that finger while in Hawaii

Page 21: They've quietly been together for over three years but Keanu Reeves and Alexandra Grant who were spotted together during a rare date night in Beverly Hills are in no rush to wed and they've both been in serious relationships before so they're content just being with each other but that doesn't mean marriage is off the table

* For Brooklyn Decker, the silver lining of the pandemic has spending more time with Andy Roddick -- she said it has strengthened their relationship

* The secret to Nick and Vanessa Lachey's successful marriage of nearly 10 years? Spontaneous intimacy, according to Vanessa

Page 22: Hot Hollywood -- Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani won't be sending save the date cards anytime soon because the duo is struggling to agree on a wedding day -- Gwen is pushing hard for their first ceremony on Blake's Oklahoma ranch to take place in early fall (the two are planning a second affair in L.A.), but Blake, who has been vocal about his impatience, wants to wed this summer but there's a problem: tornado season and the chapel he had constructed on his property for Gwen, a devout Catholic, isn't built to withstand even a minor wind event -- no matter what though, the pair (who are also trying for a baby via surrogate) still plan to exchange their vows before the end of the year and won't let these hiccups affect their big day

Page 23: Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriguez denied reports that they ended their engagement and were spotted packing on the PDA in the Dominican Republic -- J.Lo started to question A-Rod after rumors began to swirl that he had an affair with Southern Charm star Madison LeCroy but Alex has been on his best behavior of late

* A Britney Spears comeback could be on the horizon as she is dropping hints about singing again even though her attorney previously said she will not perform as long as her father in charge, but if the judge rules in her favor to make her care manager, Jodi Montgomery, her conservator, Britney will follow through and promise to perform again

* Keeping Up With Us -- Kobe Bryant's widow Vanessa Bryant has named the four deputies who allegedly shared graphic photos from the helicopter crash that killed her husband and daughter Gianna and seven others, despite sharing a selfie of herself wearing a half-heart necklace that she rocked while dating Ben Affleck his ex Ana de Armas denied that the two were back together, Armie Hammer is being investigated by L.A. police after a woman came forth and accused the actor of raping her in 2017 but Armie's attorney maintains their relations were completely consensual, CBS has extended The Talk's hiatus after claims of racism and toxicity were made against cohost Sharon Osbourne, just days after Tiger Woods returned home from the hospital following his near-fatal car crash new details from the investigation revealed that the golf pro didn't take his foot off the accelerator leading up to the accident

Page 24: A Day in My Life -- Maria Sharapova

Page 25: Kanye West's personal life might be in shambles, but his finances were thriving -- according to a new report, the rapper's net worth has climbed to $6.6 billion amid his ongoing divorce from Kim Kardashian -- he has really thrown himself into his work -- Kanye was first declared a billionaire last April largely in part to his fashion line, Yeezy, which is valued between $3.2 and $4.7 billion -- Kanye actually learned a lot from Kim's family about business decisions and he used to throw so much of his own money into his projects, but he's learned that doesn't have to be the case and it's clearly paying off big

* These hip-hop stars also made a large sum of their money away from the mic -- 50 Cent, Diddy, Jay-Z, Dr. Dre

Page 26: Cover Story -- Duchess Kate carries on -- the resilient royal is stepping in to save the crown

Page 28: Angelina Jolie vs. Brad Pitt: a new low -- as Brad and Angelina's nasty custody battle rages on, their kids are put in the middle

Page 30: Makeovers of the Year -- behold the style evolution of Hollywood's latest luminaries -- Andra Day, Halsey

Page 31: Tiffany Haddish, Lily Collins, Awkwafina

Page 32: Major Transformations -- Adrienne Bailon, Rebel Wilson

Page 34: Ayesha Curry, Kelly Osbourne, Adele

Page 36: Spring Makeup Bag Update -- whisper-light formulas in soft, pretty hues that will freshen up your look fast

Page 38: Laura Harrier tells how she makes her peepers pop

Page 40: Let It Grow! Kristen Stewart's mane man Adir Abergel shares hacks to help a haircut in flux look luxe

Page 42: Entertainment -- Mark Long on The Challenge: All Stars

Page 43: Take Five with Sway Bhatia

Page 46: Fashion Police -- when bad clothes happen to good people -- Noah Cyrus, Machine Gun Kelly, Amber Rose

Page 47: Bella Hadid, Harry Styles

Page 48: 25 Things You Don't Know About Me -- Kevin O'Leary