#look. you can hate whatever character you want

[joejhang]

say what you will about alicent and her character arc and her personality. is she a good person? no. is she a good mother? no. does she hold up to today's standards of the ideal woman? HAHAHA no. but you know what i fucking hate? when ppl say some shit like "i love young alicent but i hate older alicent" or like "i feel bad for younger alicent but i can't defend older alicent" like are you stupid??? do people not realise that alicent becoming an adult literally changes nothing? she has never had autonomy or freedom and has always been a pawn in the political games of the men around her. she is a woman, and therefore naturally inferior to men in the society she lives in and isn't a princess who can afford to rebel and want something of her own (see: rhaenyra). she's done everything for her family, her house, her duty and never has she really dared to want or reach for anything for herself. and none of that changes when she gets older?? ppl act as tho turning 18 or 20 or 25 means she gains any semblance of freedom or autonomy because she doesn't?? the system she was born into has existed long before her and she can't singlehandedly break it down and doesn't even try. ppl calling the patriarchal system of westeros the system alicent set up is insane because the system has existed for MANY years. and ppl saying alicent discovered misogyny in season 2 ep 5 as if she wasn't a child bride??? as if she hasn't been a victim of the system her whole life?? girl i hate to break it to u but everyone in hotd is a misogynist. that's the culture, that's the society, it's ingrained into all of them. ppl acting like alicent is some exception to the rule is so infuriating bc the fandom for whatever reason is so much harder on her than any other character (some of which do so much worse than she does) and it's like woah! looks like these characters in this medieval fantasy setting aren't the only ones with a lot of internalised, deep-rooted misogyny!

[milfs69420]

You belong with me - Part II

Natasha ran from her home country when she was 18, and has since been working at a stripclub in NYC. One night she spots a woman who seems all too familiar and turns out to be her childhood lover. While getting to know each other all over again, they discover new truths and old lies.

-Natasha Romanoff x Katya Petrova -Wordcount: 5,33K -Warnings: mentions of violence -A/N: I know it took a while but it's finally here, enjoy. Once again borrowed @katyaromanoffpetrova her babies, please note that Katya is a character she created, you can find the story through her page. I might actually hate this, but I hope you guys don't :)

We shall ignore any spelling or grammar errors for the sake of my sanity.

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!!

It took until Friday night, for Natasha to realise she had absolutely no clue where Katya was taking her. She spent the whole week thinking about seeing the brunette again, but she hadn’t thought much about the details of it all. Since she didn’t know where they were going, Natasha had no idea what to wear. Would it be cold or warm? Did it call for casual clothes or something fancy? Whatever she would wear, it had to impress Katya, but she couldn’t try too hard, obviously.

Natasha was going insane. She felt like a teenage girl all over again, worrying about impressing someone with her looks. Someone she hadn’t seen in years, no less. This whole situation took over far more thoughts than she would’ve liked, so she spent the rest of the night doing chores to distract herself, until she ended up falling asleep on the couch with Liho on her lap.

The next morning, she immediately regretted having ended up in that position. Her back was aching and her neck was stiff. She made her way to the kitchen and did some stretches while waiting on her coffee, when she noticed a box on the table. Packages were delivered downstairs, so Clint or Maria must have brought it here earlier in the morning. She went to take a closer look at it and spotted the label.

Natasha Romanoff

There was no address on the box, only her name, so someone had personally dropped it off here. Someone with very fancy handwriting, it seemed, and it got Natasha’s hopes up for the contents of the package. Before she could open it though, Maria walked through the kitchen door.

“You got a secret admirer, Romanoff?” The dark haired woman smiled at her teasingly.

Natasha decided it was best to ignore the comment for now, it was far too early in the morning to be explaining an entire story about her childhood lover. “Did you see who dropped it off?”

“Some odd guy, took himself much too serious. He was wearing a suit and everything.”

The Russian hated the disappointment she felt upon learning that it wasn’t Katya who had brought it. She suspected that whoever this mystery man was, had been there on behalf of the brunette. First, she tells her that she’s having a car pick the redhead up, now this. It seemed Katya was very well off these days, how she made a life for herself though, Natasha had no clue.

After talking to Maria some more, she made her way back to her own space and set the box down on her table. It seemed Natasha wasn’t the only one curious about the mysterious box, seeing as Liho hopped onto the table as soon as she had set it down. The cat inspected the package before sitting down next to it, as if to tell the redhead to hurry up and open it already.

“Okay fine, I’ll open it. Stop staring at me you little shit.”

Natasha could swear she saw the cat’s sharp claws make an appearance out of her soft paws, and decided it would be best to get on with opening the box. Not wanting to mess around with the cardboard for too long, she simply decided to stick a knife into top and drag it all the way to the bottom. In hindsight, that could have turned out quite badly, but lucky for her whatever was in the package was protected by another box. This second box was incredibly fancy, adorned with her name written in gold on the lid of it, and whatever was in there must be worth a sizeable amount of money.

She threw the cardboard to the side and opened up the package still on the table. Inside was a semi transparant kind of wrapping paper, with a note on top. As Natasha picked up the card, she saw yet another box on top of the paper. This one was small and flat, and the redhead had a hunch for what was inside. Before opening anything though, she flipped over the card to see what it said.

Dear Natalia,

I sincerely hope, that you look as good in this, as I pictured you would.

K.

The redhead wanted to be annoyed about Katya simply refusing to use her new name, she really did. But the idea that the brunette had been thinking about her, picturing what she looked like in whatever was hiding in that package, that idea drove her slightly insane.

She put the card aside and opened the small box, inside was some of the most gorgeous jewellery she’d ever seen. A delicate gold necklace, with an hourglass shape made out of rubies hanging off of it. The shape alone, was enough to have the gears in her head turning at a rapid pace. Memories of her teen years came back to her, when she’d received the news that she had to leave her foster family, and therefore the town she had met Katya in. The goodbye had been emotional, and the brunette had given her a ring to remember her by. A gold ring with a red hourglass symbol on it, one that Natasha couldn’t wear anymore because of its size.

Next to the necklace were several earrings and rings, all gold and some with red gemstones adorning them, and a bracelet with a charm connected to it. A small dagger, no doubt a hint to the nights they used to share, when Katya would teach her how to throw knives with unmatched precision, though she never got quite as good as the brunette. All of these reminders of their past made Natasha feel more than she had expected. Whereas she usually felt mainly sadness about that time of her life, she now felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. Hope overtook her at the thought of getting know Katya all over again.

She carefully put aside the box and removed the wrapping paper. What she found was a carefully folded garment. She picked it up and let it drop into its natural shape, and she couldn’t help but gasp. In her hands was the most beautiful slip dress she’d ever seen, smooth expensive fabric with a wonderful dark emerald green colour. There was a slit in the side of dress, one that looked to go up her leg quite high, and Natasha couldn’t be more excited to put it on.

Since it was only morning, Natasha had to use all her willpower to leave this on the table for now and go on with her day, until she had to go and get ready. With every task that she busied herself with, she glanced over at that deep green coloured dress, and she made it until seven that evening until she caved. Natasha felt utterly ridiculous, standing in front of her bed and looking at her laid out outfit. She didn’t do this. She didn’t get ready for things two hours in advance, and she sure as hell didn’t worry about needing to impress someone with her looks.

Yet here she stood, freshly showered, shaved and putting in extra effort to make her hair look soft and silky, and bring out her natural curl that she knew Katya loved. All throughout her hair routine she recalled memories from her teen years. She thought of how Katya used to play with her hair, how she would make tiny braids and how Natasha would let her do absolutely anything that she pleased. The redhead came to the realisation now that she would probably still let the other Russian do as she pleased to her, though maybe in more daring ways now, than back then.

To hint at their shared memories, Natasha made a few small braids in her hair. She knew that Katya would understand their meaning, and that made it all the more fun. The braids also helped keep the hair out of her face as she was putting on her makeup, which she wouldn’t dare to do with that expensive dress on already. She kept her look quite natural for the most part, just the way she liked it, and finished it off with a darker lip tint that she knew she could pull off in the best way. She could say that she made that decision purely because she thought the shade was pretty, but in reality she was hoping to have Katya pay extra attention to them, but she would never admit that, of course.

As she was putting on the dress and jewellery she was overly aware of how far ahead her thoughts were. Rationally thinking, she should hear the brunette out first, see why she’s here and why now. But her thoughts weren’t rational. As much as she loved Clint and Maria and everyone she had in her life, she never meant to end up here. She wanted out, out of this place, out of this job, out of her loneliness. Katya’s arrival had given her so much hope that she believed it may actually all happen. And so she found herself here, feeling like a teenager all over again, mind clouded with daydreams about what she and her childhood lover could potentially become in the future. 

….

After sitting and waiting, and feeling like a fool, for well over an hour, Natasha could finally go outside and meet whatever mystery person was picking her up. She hadn’t needed those two hours to get ready, usually she’s done well under one hour, or way less, she simply got too excited over the whole situation. She’d been right about her assumption that the slit on her right thigh went up quite high, and she was certain that Katya had chosen that on purpose. Natasha didn’t mind that at all, not because she was used to showing off her body, but because Katya was the one person who she’d gladly show all of her to. 

Right as she walked outside, a black SUV showed up at the curb, and before she was even close to the car, a man had stepped out. Dressed in a classic black suit, probably an expensive one, he walked to the other side of the car. As he turned to open the door for Natasha, she could see that he was wearing some sort of communications device in his ear, it made her wonder what kind of security measurements were present, and why they were needed.

The man hadn’t said a word, not when she got in the car, not during the drive, and he didn’t speak either when he opened the door for her to get out. As Natasha stepped out of the car she took in her surroundings, she caught a glimpse of the busy street in the city centre before she was ushered towards the building in front of her. She walked towards the entrance of the seemingly very classy restaurant, and the mystery man opened the door for her. He guided her inside, but as soon as the tables came into view she didn’t need his directions anymore. There, in the middle of an otherwise empty restaurant, sat the person who’d been keeping her up all week.

Natasha took notice of the guards standing in every corner, and she assumed there were more in the rest of the building. However wary she was of all this security, she walked towards the table with a smile. This time it wasn’t some man in a tailored suit showing manners, it was Katya who got up and pulled out the chair on the other side of the table for Natasha. Once she sat down, and the brunette had settled back in the chair opposite of her, she took a moment to observe the woman in front of her before speaking up.

“This is an awful lot of guards for a dinner date, don’t you think?” The redhead still wore that charming smile on her face. She wasn’t afraid, or hostile, and neither was Katya. She was genuinely curious about why all of this was needed, the guards, the empty restaurant, everything.

“Oh so this is a date now?” Katya’s face was adorned with that oh so captivating smirk that, if it had been on anyone else’s face, would’ve annoyed Natasha to no end. 

“Well I don’t usually dress up quite this fancy for any other occasion, do you?”

Katya took that as her cue to, unashamedly, check out the redhead opposing her. She let her eyes wander where she pleased, and she knew that Natasha didn’t mind. In fact, she was doing the exact same to the brunette. It seemed that suits were her thing these days, as she was wearing yet another, no doubt tailor made, dark suit that fit her exactly right. With all this staring back and forth, and tension growing in the air, Katya decided to tease Natasha just a bit more. She took off her blazer and put it over the back of her chair, and to finish it off she rolled up her sleeves to reveal her smooth, ink adorned skin.

“You look beyond gorgeous in that dress, Natalia. Just as I hoped you would.”

“So you’ve been thinking of me then? Picturing me all dressed up, just for you.”

The brunette didn’t admit anything, instead she just smiled at Natasha and handed her one of the menus that had been on the side of the table. 

“I suppose we should get drinks and appetizers first, before getting into the details of this whole situation.” They quietly went over their menus before a sharply dressed woman came up to them, asking for their orders. When all was said and done, and they’d put in their requests for the evening, they received their drinks and were left alone for the time being. 

“So are you going to explain all the security measures?” Natasha was getting impatient now. As fun as the banter was, she was here to get answers. Katya could sense the change in her attitude, and adjusted her own accordingly. 

“You’ll understand the details later on, for now let’s just say there’s plenty of people who’d love to get their hands on me. And not in a pleasant way.” The brunette just couldn’t help but joke around, and Natasha hated that she liked it. She had to fight the blush that tried to make an appearance on her cheeks, because she too, wanted to get her hands on Katya. Though not in a way that called for all these guards present. 

“So what have you done then? To piss off people that badly.”

At that question, Katya seemed to get slightly uncomfortable. “To get to that, we need to go back to the past first. Even before we met, hell even before I was born.”

Now this piqued the redhead’s interest. She hadn’t gone into this with any expectations, but she certainly didn’t think there would be this much history to the story. And the sorrow that seemed to take over Katya had not only made her curious, but already furious at whoever was responsible for whatever bad things had happened to her childhood lover. 

“So, as you already know, I used to live with my uncle.” She started her story. “And I’ve told you before that my mom passed shortly after my birth, and other than my uncle there wasn’t anyone to take care of me.”

So far, this was all information that Natasha knew already, but she understood that the other Russian had to make sure she was aware of the foundation for the story. She didn’t speak, and decided against interrupting Katya at any point. The look on her face made it clear that this was a serious conversation, so all banter was to be stopped for now.

“I obviously don’t know what things looked like from your side of the street, but I can say with absolute certainty that things at Dreykov’s place were worse than they seemed. I think everyone in the town was aware that he was involved in some shady stuff, many suspected some kind of mob activity going on. The truth is actually worse. You see, he didn’t deal drugs, or weapons or any of that stuff, he dealt people. Girls, to be specific.”

Natasha tried to keep her face blank, she didn’t want her expressions to affect the woman opposite of her. She had heard her fair share of theories about what went on in the building across the street, but she hadn’t known about this.

“Some girls, depending on age, were sold to disgusting creeps. However, kids like me, who didn’t have a clue about the world yet and had everything to learn, we were trained. I won’t go into details for now, but we were trained not only to fight, but to kill. We were taught about every single way you can end someone’s life, and if any of the girls failed a part of training, they became the target.”

Katya fell silent after that, and Natasha didn’t bother filling the silence either. This moment was utilised by the staff to bring over their drinks and first course. The redhead muttered a quick thank you, but didn’t take her eyes off of the somber looking brunette, who cleared her throat and pushed herself to keep going.

“You have to understand, that while I may have seemed kind and innocent to you at the time, I have seen and done things you never want to imagine. To many, I’m a monster, and I completely understand if that’s how you feel about me too.” As she said that, Katya seemed about ready to watch the other Russian leave and never come back.

“And I need you to understand something in return.” Natasha looked her in the eye to make sure that every word reached her. “You were forced to do all of that stuff, I don’t know exactly what went down but it sounds like a life or death situation. You did what you had to do to survive, Katya. You were the only person that showed me any kindness at all. I mean, I thought that my foster parents liked me, but they threw me out with the garbage. You were the only person to be honest to me, you said you loved me and you meant it. I will never think that you’re a monster.”

The brunette looked down at her still untouched food, like she was taking all of those words in, unsure of how to respond. Then, she looked up at Natasha with a sadness in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

“They liked you.”

Natasha looked up at her confused. “What?”

“Your foster parents, they liked you. They had every intention of keeping you around.”

“You’re lying, they made me pack my bags and leave without explanation.” 

This made the redhead upset, Katya was implying that she may have had a chance at the happy family she had always craved, and she didn’t take this lightly.

“Natalia, I’m deeply sorry for what I’m about to tell you, and I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore after this.” Katya took a deep breath before continuing.

“Besides the girls and teachers, there was a load of guards involved with the organisation. I guess someone had noticed me sneaking out at night and a guard followed me when I went to meet you. I don’t know exactly what they saw but it was enough for them to know that we were more than what we were supposed to be. They couldn’t get rid of me like the other girls, not only had I become an important asset, but I’m also related to Dreykov.”

The brunette fell silent for a moment to prepare for what she had to say next. She couldn’t bear to look Natasha in the eye, knowing that she was causing all the hurt that was visible on the redhead’s face. She was fully prepared at this point, to break Natasha’s heart and watch leave.

“With some very convincing threats, and a lot of money, Dreykov got rid of you instead. He made them kick you out, and punished me in ways that made me wish he’d killed me instead. I didn’t know any of this at the time, he actually made me believe that you had been killed for the longest time. I found out a few years ago, I’m so sorry Natalia.”

“Stop calling me that.” Up until now, the name had only slightly annoyed Natasha, but in this emotional state she couldn’t handle any of it. She had to fight the emotions that seemed to get stuck in her throat, and tried her best to keep the tears from escaping. That name was a far too prominent reminder of the past, and it was too much for her to handle right now.

“I don’t want to hate you.” She looked at woman opposite of her. “I loved you, Katya. Hell, I’m half convinced I could fall in love all over again right now, so I do not want to resent you even the slightest bit. I wouldn’t change anything we did back then, even if the outcome hurts me so deeply. Right now though, I need you to work with me here. I’ve changed since we were teenagers, I had to. I needed a fresh start and that came in the form of this new person, Natasha. I need you to respect that.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Natasha.” 

Katya dared to offer her a slight smile, in the hope of bringing some comfort to this situation. Natasha looked her in the eyes, like she was searching for something, anything that could help her navigate the turmoil of emotions she was experiencing. She saw a change behind Natasha’s eyes, one that indicated that she had put her emotions aside for now to keep herself together for the rest of the evening. There was no doubt though, that it would take time for her to let everything sink in, and learn to live with all that knowledge.

“I’m not saying we need to forget everything we used to know about each other, but we need to get to know each other all over again. That is, of course, if you intend on staying around to keep talking.”

Katya seemed almost surprised at how the redhead was dealing with all of this information. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d want me around after this conversation.”

It made Natasha sad, how badly the other Russian seemed to think of herself. Katya’s self worth seemed to have been crushed, and at that moment the redhead decided that it would be her mission to restore it. She needed her to see that she wasn’t a monster, she was just a human who’s been put in the most inhumane situations and did what she had to in order to survive.

“Well, I could always change my mind after you tell me the rest of the story.” She put that signature smirk on her face in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

“I’m guessing that you mean how I ended up here?”

“Tell me everything, what happened after I left, how you ended up in this position. It seems that you’re quite well off, with all your security and fancy clothes and everything.”

Katya smiled at her, silently agreeing with her. Firstly though, they finally finished their food and received the main course for the evening. While enjoying their food Katya shared the rest of her story. She told Natasha about the bad, painful things she had to endure after they’d been found out. She told her about how from that moment on, she started truly hating Dreykov, and started plotting against him. 

Katya had thought that he had been responsible for killing her childhood lover, and it filled her with an incredible amount of rage. So as she got older, she started looking for ways to not only put an end to this organisation, but to burn everything associated with it to the ground. Soon after she turned eighteen she had gathered all that she needed, and after a lot of violence all guards had been taken care of and all the girls had sided with her.

She told Natasha about that final encounter with Dreykov, how he had realised that this would be the end for him no matter what. In a last attempt to maintain his power he had told Katya about what had really happened to her secret girlfriend. She had smiled at him as she put her knife in his chest, not only because he was finally gone, but because she now knew that Natasha was alive. 

And so she’d gone on to lead all those girls that she has trained with. She’d downloaded all data from her uncle’s organisation and they had set off on a mission. They had a list of every organisation, government, politician and business associate of Dreykov, and the task was to eliminate them, whatever it takes. Along the way, Katya had made a name for herself and built a network. Most of those targets didn’t want to be convinced to stop what they were doing, and therefore had to be eliminated in a rather permanent manner. Now, even people in high power positions feared her, and nobody dared to mess with her.

That more or less summed up how she got to where she is now. She took money and weapons from organisations that they’d taken down, and thanks to her network of powerful people there were plenty of people investing in her cause. She’s built an army over the years, an army of people who move in the shadows, who take down anyone that stands in their way. 

“So I guess that’s the rest of that story you wanted.” Katya finished off her explanation as dessert was delivered to their table. 

“Almost, you still have to tell me how you found me, and why you showed up just now.”

“Well, finding you was actually quite easy. Your boss, Fury as he likes to call himself.”

“You mean Nick”

“Yes, I mean Nick. I also refuse to call him that ridiculous name. Anyway he got in contact with some shady people about a year ago, they tried to involve him in trafficking business to get women for his club. He wanted nothing to do with it and wanted them gone, so people from my organisation sorted it out for him. Initially I had nothing to do with it, but we do background checks on everyone that gets involved with us.” 

Natasha listened intently, she had her suspicions about her boss getting involved with something, she just hasn’t known what, or who. She’d seen him on the phone and whatever kept him busy seemingly required loads of secrecy. 

“Now this is embarrassing to admit, but here we go. I had an order communicated to everyone involved with what we do. If your name ever came up anywhere, I am to be notified right away.”

She was interrupted by laughter coming from the other side of the table. Natasha thought it was funny, utterly adorable and also more attractive than she was willing to admit, that Katya had gone to such lengths. It warmed her heart that the brunette had never forgotten about finding her. 

“Okay if you’re done laughing, I’d like to continue.”

“Oh I don’t think you need to, it’s easy. You found my name, my new one, and found out that I work and live at the club, and that’s when you decided to start lurking in the shadows to watch me on stage. I hope you enjoyed the shows, by the way.”

Natasha felt more confident now, she felt like she finally knew who was really sitting across the table. It saddened her that Katya had not expected the conversation to get this far. The love she had for the other woman back when they were teens, was the truest love that she’s experienced to date. Even with all the heavy subjects that they touched on tonight, the transition to that light, playful dynamic they were so good at was easy.

“Oh I enjoyed the shows alright, nothing beats that look on your face when I said your name though.”

After dessert had finished, they sat and talked for a little while longer, while enjoying their drinks. Neither woman could deny how much they enjoyed each other’s company. Even with all these new truths, and old lies, coming to light, there was an undeniable familiarity between them. As the night came to an end, they found themselves looking for excuses to stay right where they are. So they found themselves lingering outside on the pavement, delaying the inevitable separation.

“So, will I get any more mysterious invites like this, or can you text me like a normal woman?” 

Natasha couldn’t help but put that signature smirk on her face, just in case Katya needed a little extra convincing. She offered up her phone, and the brunette took it right away to put in her contact information. She immediately called herself with the phone so she could save the redhead’s phone number to hers as well.

“You’ll be taken back to the club with the same car, to ensure you get home safely.”

“Don’t you worry, I know how to defend myself much better than you’d expect.”

“Do I ever get to hear that story?”

Natasha smiled at her. “Sure, on our second date, darling.”

With that, she took a step towards Katya. She leaned towards her and gave the brunette a kiss on the cheek and stepped backwards again, showing that charming smile one more time before turning around and walking towards the car. It took more effort than she was willing to admit, to not turn around and stay for a little while longer. Instead, she got in the car and it took off to bring her back safely, and she immediately missed the presence of her childhood lover.

Meanwhile, Katya was left standing there on the pavement, looking at the car as it took off. This strong, powerful woman who was feared by so many, had been rendered useless because of such a simple gesture. If she had lost all self control, she might have reached out to touch her cheek right where the redhead’s lips had been. However, she was still surrounded by security guards and while she knew they had a massive amount of respect for her, she did need to uphold her image and couldn’t look like a total fool.

That night, both women let their thoughts wander to the other. Natasha was eager to rekindle the flame that had once been ablaze between them, and she could swear the sparks of it were still there like they never left. She was eager for a potential new life, where she didn’t feel this miserable and lonely so often. A life where she had someone to talk to at the end of every day, someone to share her joy with, and her sadness. If she let her mind truly get ahead of her, the future looked awfully domestic and joyful, both things she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Katya on the other hand only dared to let her thoughts go so far. Her upbringing had left her wary of people and filled with trust issues. As much as she’d love to be able to let Natasha right back in her life and go all in on exploring how good they can be together, she simply had to be sensible. But as her phone screen lit up with a goodnight and thank you text from the very person she was thinking of, she couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on her face.

[breadslice2257]

Hi do you know Motley by @syrupyyyart yet? If not do you wanna know- just kidding of course you do now sit down and listed to me rant about my silly little oc okay it's probably fun I prommy

Tira Misu is graduate student studying Classics (or whatever the Motley equivalent of "ancient language studies" would be) at [insert name of Harmony City's premier university here lol]. They come across as an introvert if you have them as a student teacher but they actually just hate dealing with undergrads, they're a social butterfly otherwise. Despite that they kinda suck at communication so maybe don't pick them for your group project.

Some extra notes and doodles and such under the cut!

Tira misu is based on the dessert "tiramisu," which is a kind of Italian cake-y dessert that features cocoa powder, coffee, and ladyfingers, among other things. It's actually the only way I can tolerate consuming coffee but tiramisu is one of my favorite desserts and I wanted to make a tired grad student so I thought "why not?"

I wanted to make them look hawkish and a bit pointy, so I really hope that comes across. My main thought while drawing them was literally just "sharp angles and ironed folds" on repeat. Well, that and "who needs to cover your ✨️indecent shoulders✨️ when you can cover your whole neck instead."

Some fun facts that didn't end up on the sheet because I ran out of room:

- They're left handed. That was not intentional but I ended up drawing them that way without thinking and now it is truth.

- As per the lore which I'm assuming is still cannon, Tira runs hot as a fresh cup of coffee because they're a warm color. They only dress up for cold weather because it's a style opportunity.

- Tira looks calm and collected on the outside but they're constantly sprinting through their mind palace while trying to retrieve information at all times.

- Yes that middle brown is also the eyebag color. Yes I know the whole "earning your colors" thing only affects the clothing but I was having fun so please feel free to ignore it agdkdgf

- They don't try to be mean on purpose they're just Like That

- In case the "'Assigned male at birth'? I don't have that in my planner. When's it due?" wasn't clear enough they're a trans woman lol. If you simply must use gendered language they don't mind a "she" every once in a while, as a treat

The character sheet stuff is based on a template by cparrisart that I edited to only have the relevant categories that I wanted lol

Anyway go read about Motley and learn everything about it please it's so fun and cute and I adore everything about it please and thank youuu

[moonlight-starkey]

All I can say is wow to the second half of season 4

SPOILERS

First off, so many of these little story lines are straight out of fan fics. Got lilah pate throwing these ideas towards her father?!?

But one thing I can say is I am so sad jj is gone, no matter if you hate Rudy or his character, it was a tragedy how it happened. Second, I do not want to hear shit with riara shippers bc you think kie will go with Rafe now he’s cut Sofia off and jj is dead. THE GIRL LOST HER BEST FRIEND, HER BOYFRIEND, AND HER PARTNER IN CRIME!! the audacity you think she would even do that…that is the last thing she’s going to think about. You can have your little delusional moments since now he’s cool with the pogues but come onnnn, ik it’s exhausting.

I’m so curious now how they will take this next season!! and thank god it will be the last. The dynamic is soooo different now.

I can’t wait to see Rafe do something about Sofia and if he will keep his word with shoupe if he returns to Kildare.

I’m so curious how they will go about with Sarah and John b (tbf, the pregnancy thing is unnecessary but whatever floats their boat). But I did love how the pogues looked out for her bc she had me stressed out lmao.

Pope getting arrested was crazyyyy coming from him but I’m so sad what his dad will do when he comes back because that man probably don’t know about the deal with shoupe. I CHEERED for Cleo since her man got revenge for her too! Like how can you not love this couple???

But anyway, the last part wasn’t bad but it did keep me at the edge of my seat. It’s just a lot of things could’ve been different but hey I’m not a screenwriter so what do I know 🤷🏾‍♀️

[vapolis]

Hiii. Not a criticism or anything, just that i laughed at your post about the new IF and people asking why they can't leave them and you're so right because that's so me. I hate horrible people doing horrible things, and it makes me so mad. However This is fiction, and i can handle a little MC being pathetic and sitting in filth as long as it's not for fucking 9 chapters because I've read books like that and wondered okay....

The fuck isn't this supposed to get any better for us? Isn't this the main character why the fuck are they just being pushed down every chapter. 💀

I never want an mc that's overpowered or just great at everything and who everyone loves. It can get boring and personal growth is beautiful in books look at my Merc falling inlove while they lose their mind.

but fuck me have i seen IFs where I'd rather read a book about a mc being literally tortured physically while having people who care for them after and found it more relaxing to read than an MC that's just getting emotionally dragged without so much as them saying anything for 6 chapter's and the whole RO cast is just straight trash people treating them like hot garbage and mc just takes it. 😭😭

The contrast is funny to me. I can handle high fantasy brutality with the chance at revenge, but give me an emotional scene of MC being manipulated, and i want to stab the other RO.

I def get what you mean and I personally am not a big fan of emotional torture porn for the sake of torture porn. there's a reason mc can't leave their partner in this new IF from the start but it will be an option down the line (not 9 chapters in for sure).

I'm more interested in the growth of it and writing morally grey characters and a mc that's not nice themself. they can be certainly but it's not in their nature anymore due to the fact that they've known this life that spits people out for too long to still be starstruck or a doormat that takes whatever people dish. :)

[rapunzellovesbooks]

The way I just want to hug Luke Newton and apologize on behalf of the entire Polin fandom for the shit he had to go through over a f*** picture taken without his consent. Like, I get it was the crazies, but still. Being part of the Taylor Swift fandom and seeing how she disappeared for a damn year over a leaked video taken without her consent and taken out of context villainising her... I know it must have hurt. And we can say it was months ago and that he knows who his true fans are, but still, that stuff would affect anyone, specially someone as sensitive as he is. I usually mind my own business and do not ship real people, heck, I usually do not even go online and "protect" celebrities. I tend to just focus on the happy and celebrate the characters they play but something about that June 13th and the look on his face... it haunts me to this day. And I just feel very very bad for him still.

I am deeply aware of the fact that I know nothing about his life, not really. I only know about his feelings for Polin and Nicola, because he has spoken about them. I have access to the same amount of information as the rest of the world, the pictures and videos of their WT and behind the scenes, the interviews he has done. I do not know anyone in his life and I should not have to. Neither do I know Nicola. And hey, maybe it never happens. Maybe they are happy with someone else (I doubt it, but this is just a feeling I have) and their relationship remains unique and the millions of questions we have never get answered. My point is, I got into this fandom because seeing their bond brought me joy. I don´t think them having other people in their lives diminishes that, which is why the hate he got over one picture never sat right with me. I do not get how it affects someone´s viewing experience of a show. I do not understand why we are so focused on labelling people´s relationships, as if it is as easy as saying a pencil is pink or green. It makes me happy seeing their videos and waiting for crumbs. I have fun hoping that what I truly see as more than platonic feelings will come to fruition.

I write this because the world is in shambles right now. And the last thing anyone needs is to add more negativity to it. So, I hope that we can, in the Lukola fandom, be kind and focus on the good. I do not give a shit about paparazzi photos or whatever the "adjacents" or however you want to call them do. In fact, I have not once looked at A´s or JD´s SM, nor do I want to. They are human beings, but not the human beings I care about. Even if they are involved in Luke and Nic´s lives, I will never send them hate or bad mouth them. I have no idea what they are to them. All I know is what L and N have said about each other. And it has always been good. So, that is where I will be.

And, yes, I truly believe they will be together. And I will be happy with anything that suggests it so, cause this is supposed to be fun and joyful. I, unlike other people, do not label people as gf or bf UNLESS it comes directly from the people involved. And if anyone ever confirms or launches anything, I will still be here. Cause that is what shipping is. Not hate, not negativity, not putting other people down, not invading someone´s privacy, not thinking that a moment in time is forever (people break up all the time, there is no way to know if someone is still with someone if there was never a "launch" or whatever you want to call it).

It would make both Luke and Nicola sad to see that a connection that is supposed to bring people joy is putting people against each other. I know we were so well fed with content over so many months that now we hold onto every detail we have not dissected yet. I get it. I also miss them. But that is the way it is supposed to be. We are not supposed to know everything. We are just supposed to be grateful and happy for when something good related to them happens. That is all and that is my hope for this fandom.

Spread joy and leave the rest out of it. Spiralling only makes people dizzy. Let us "get some vision, bro" like Luke said.

Thank you for reading and, remember, be kind to one another.

[amethystarachnid]

Hey! If your taking requests, I love your work so much and I had an idea I would really love to see how you execute it.

So it would be with Tony Stark, and if its okay Male!Reader, but not romantic, the reader is a teen who is a product of some old fling Tony had and after being poorly taken care of by his mom (whatever that inclines you to write, abuse, bad boyfriend, alcoholism etc.) She dumps him off at stark tower with a note and what little belongings the reader has and his birth certificate to Tony for him to take care of. And the rest of what happens from there is up to you! Basically heavy on the found family troupe, and a little angst with some good fluff. The reader can be from 16-18 still in high school. He has Tony's sarcastic humor and smarts, but he nodes his intelligence because his mom never really helped him appreciate it, basically one of those kids that gets straight A's without seemingly trying and looking kind of stupid, the reader is quiet and a bit cold but that's because of how he was raised, and isn't one to share how he's feeling. If you can do this I'd be so thankful, if not its completely understandable, I hope I gave you enough creative liberty to make it fun, I know it'll be great if you do write it! Again I love your fics so much and I can't wait to read more of what you have!!💜☺

LEGACY

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, a lot of angst and some fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.5k

ᯓ★ Summary: literally what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of abusive household and rader feeling like people keep abandoning him

ᯓ★ Thank you so much for your request and for liking my work! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

Your whole life, you’ve never known stability. The cramped apartments, the ever-shifting walls painted in hues of desperation, are as familiar to you as your own skin. You’re seventeen now, but you still feel like you’re stuck in this never-ending carousel of uncertainty and survival. Your mom—who’s always been more into herself than anyone else—has a way of shoving her problems under the rug, sweeping you along with the mess until you’re barely holding it together.

Her boyfriend—if you could even call him that—is the latest problem. Travis is the kind of guy who doesn’t need to say much to make his point clear. It’s in the way he takes up space, fills every room with his presence, making himself the center of your lives as if it’s his right. He started coming around when you were fourteen, and it’s only gotten worse. You know he hates you, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. To him, you’re a nuisance, some extra baggage he never asked for, and he’s got no problem reminding you of that. Your sarcasm and quick wit, the things that make you, you, are just more reasons for him to snap, roll his eyes, or call you ungrateful.

Your mom’s always been…complicated. You’ve known that since you were little, watching her go from one relationship to another, always searching for some kind of validation she never seems to find. She calls herself a free spirit, but it’s like she’s just drifting, lost in a fog of her own making. She can be fun, sure, when things are good. There were even moments when you thought she really loved you. But as time went on, you learned to read the signs: the distant glances, the subtle irritations, the way she avoids looking at you for too long, as if you’re some kind of mirror she doesn’t want to face.

It’s your intelligence that bugs her the most, you think. You see through her, every lie, every excuse, every careless decision. And she knows it. It’s like looking into a warped mirror—she can see pieces of herself in you, but you’re everything she’s never been: sharp, observant, with a mind that doesn’t let things slide. And it grates on her.

The fights get worse as you grow older, each one escalating faster than the last. Your sarcasm is your armor, your way of dealing with the endless cycle of disappointment. But every quip, every clever retort, only makes her angrier. You can tell she hates that she can’t control you, can’t manipulate you the way she does with everyone else in her life. She calls you difficult, a burden, a mistake she should’ve never had. You don’t let it show, but each word leaves a scar, another reminder that you’re on your own.

Then one day, it’s too much. Travis and your mom are fighting—again. It’s loud, voices echoing in the small apartment, and you’re in your room, trying to block it out like usual. But this time, you hear your name. You’ve been in this situation enough to know that’s never a good sign. So, you stay quiet, waiting, listening.

“You know he’s not even mine, right?” Travis snaps, his voice dripping with frustration. “Why do I have to put up with this kid? He’s not my responsibility!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Your mom’s voice is strained, like she’s barely holding on herself. “I’ve tried—God, I’ve tried—but he’s just…he’s too much. I can’t handle it anymore.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, you think maybe she’ll say something else, something that makes it sound like she cares. But the words never come.

“Then get rid of him,” Travis says, so bluntly that it leaves a chill in the air. “You’ve got the kid’s birth certificate. Drop him off at his real dad’s. He’s rich, isn’t he? Let him deal with the brat.”

You don’t move. You barely breathe. But deep down, you already know this is it. There’s no fighting it this time, no clever comment to deflect what’s happening. She’s made her choice, and it’s not you.

The next morning, she’s silent as she hands you an envelope. There’s no apology, no excuse, just a look that tells you she’s already gone, checked out of whatever shred of motherhood she once claimed to have. You don’t even ask where you’re going; you know the answer as soon as you see the address on the piece of paper.

Stark Tower.

It feels like a final act of cruelty, really. The man she’s always refused to talk about, the one figure in your life who’s only ever been a name, and now he’s your last option. Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, Avenger. And, apparently, your father.

You stand outside Stark Tower with a single bag of your things and that stupid piece of paper—the birth certificate that’s somehow supposed to mean you’re his problem now. You feel like you’re stuck in some cosmic joke, a punchline to a story you didn’t even know you were a part of. There’s no going back, though. That’s clear enough.

So, you take a deep breath, adjust your bag on your shoulder, and walk through the doors.

Tony doesn’t even get a chance to process it at first. One moment he’s sipping coffee in his lab, deep in the flow of something unnecessarily complex that’s keeping his mind busy, and the next, Pepper is calling him down to the lobby. She sounds irritated, stressed—like maybe it’s his fault, which Tony wouldn’t be surprised by, honestly. He heads down, muttering about "another hero here to tell me how to do my job."

Then he sees you.

You’re leaning against the glass wall, wearing an expression that’s somehow familiar yet entirely alien to him. It’s not hard to recognize the mix of defiance and exhaustion in your eyes; he’s spent years perfecting that look himself. But the shock doesn’t really hit until you hand him the birth certificate. Your name and his, right there in black and white, unavoidably real.

For once in his life, Tony Stark is speechless.

“Seventeen years,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “And now you’re here because…?”

You shrug, clearly unimpressed. “Mom didn’t want me anymore, and apparently, you’re my dad. So… here I am. Congratulations.”

You’re blunt, almost cruel in the way you say it, like you don’t expect anything from him and don’t care if you get it. But he can’t look away from you. For the first time in a long time, he’s out of his depth. He’s had seventeen years to know this was possible, maybe even inevitable, but standing in front of you, he realizes he’s never prepared himself for this. He’s never thought about what it would mean to actually be a father.

Yet here you are, standing in front of him with your mother’s words still hanging over you, and he can see the weight you carry in the way your shoulders are always tense, the way your eyes don’t quite meet his.

“Well, kid,” he says after a beat, plastering on his most confident smile, “looks like you’ve officially joined the Stark family. There’s no going back now.”

Over the next few days, Tony throws himself into fatherhood with all the enthusiasm of someone tackling a new, challenging invention. He’s reading parenting books, taking advice from anyone who’ll give it, and trying desperately to crack the code of how to be a “cool dad.” He lets you explore Stark Tower freely, offers you access to his entire workshop, and even builds you a custom tablet, “Stark-style,” he brags, with enough advanced tech to impress even the most skeptical teenager.

He talks to you about science, testing your knowledge and realizing with a mix of pride and horror that you’re nearly as sharp as he was at seventeen. He tries to make jokes, throwing out sarcastic one-liners he assumes will win you over. Sometimes, he even manages to get a smirk out of you. But that’s as far as it ever goes.

Every attempt he makes is met with your icy wall, a defense mechanism built after years of disappointment and neglect. You listen, nod occasionally, but never laugh or even show interest. The most he ever gets out of you is a dry, deadpan “cool,” which is enough to keep him going but never enough to satisfy him.

Tony tries not to take it personally, but it’s hard. You’re right there, his kid, yet you’re worlds away, keeping him at arm’s length as if he’s just another adult you can’t trust. He catches glimpses of the sarcasm, the intelligence, but it’s wrapped up in layers of resentment and guarded detachment. You’re always cool, always distant, and he knows why, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

One evening, he sits you down with a grin, tossing a shiny, compact device into your hands. It’s sleek, metallic—one of his newer designs.

“Mini reactor prototype. You’d be the first to use it.” He says it with pride, like he’s giving you something no one else in the world could get.

You look at it for a moment, then at him. “Cool,” you say again, but your voice is flat, unimpressed. You set it on the table between you without another glance.

Tony’s grin falters, and he lets out a frustrated laugh. “You’re a tough crowd, you know that?”

You just shrug, giving him that practiced blank stare he’s come to know well. He’s finally reaching his breaking point. “Y’know, I’m trying here,” he says, exasperated. “I’m trying to… I don’t know, connect. Be… whatever it is you need me to be. But you’re acting like I’m just another stranger.”

You pause, considering him for a moment, and something shifts in your expression—like maybe, for just a second, you see his effort. But then your face goes neutral again, back to that familiar shield.

“Maybe that’s because you are,” you reply, voice quiet, almost too soft for him to hear.

Tony feels the blow, but he hides it with a forced chuckle. “Fair enough,” he says, though there’s a sting in his voice. “I can’t change the past, but… I’m here now. I’m not gonna just… walk away.”

The words linger between you, both of you knowing the weight they carry. You’ve heard promises like this before. You’ve heard them from your mother, from people who were supposed to care, and each one of those promises had turned hollow, leaving you more alone than before. So, when Tony looks at you with genuine sincerity, with a hope that you’ll give him a chance, all you can do is nod, burying any flicker of vulnerability.

As the weeks go on, Tony keeps trying. He brings you into the lab with him, walks you through his latest projects, even lets you experiment with some of the tech yourself. He drags you to burger joints at midnight, tries to coax out stories about school, hobbies, anything. Sometimes you let your guard slip, offering a sarcastic remark, a comment that makes him laugh—but the moment always passes too quickly, and you’re back behind that wall before he can push any further.

He’s persistent, though, and there’s a part of you that almost wants to give in, that wants to believe him. But your trust is a muscle you haven’t used in so long, it feels impossible to start now. So, you keep him at bay, deflecting his kindness, giving him just enough to satisfy his efforts without letting him in.

Tony doesn’t quit, though. He keeps showing up, every day, every night, and for the first time in your life, you don’t feel like someone’s just waiting for the moment they can leave.

Every morning, Tony insists on driving you to school, and it’s nothing short of a spectacle. He shows up outside Stark Tower in one of his many luxury cars, honking loudly, practically begging for attention. It’s become a routine, one you can’t escape no matter how many times you roll your eyes or tell him he doesn’t have to do it. He’s always got some snarky excuse, saying things like, “It’s my job as a dad,” or “I just want to see the kid off,” as if anyone believes he actually cares about high school protocol.

And everyone notices. Whispers trail behind you as you walk the halls, classmates you’ve known for years suddenly gawking at you like you’re a different person. They don’t know you as you anymore; they know you as Tony Stark’s kid. It’s suffocating. You’ve spent your entire life trying to stay unnoticed, to blend into the background. Now, no matter where you go, everyone’s waiting for you to crack a joke like him, to show off some kind of Stark-level genius.

Only one person seems to still see you, really see you—your best friend, Sam. You’ve known him since middle school, back when everything was simpler, when no one knew or cared who your dad was. He’s the only one who doesn’t treat you any differently now, the only person you actually trust enough to talk to about any of this.

One afternoon, you’re sitting outside on the bleachers with Sam, trying to ignore the fact that Tony’s car is already parked by the curb, waiting for you. The other students eye it like some exotic animal they don’t quite understand, but you keep your head down, just hoping the day will end without any more awkward questions or judgmental stares.

Sam nudges you. “So, uh… you still giving the old man the cold shoulder, huh?”

You sigh, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not giving him the cold shoulder. I’m just… keeping my distance.”

He rolls his eyes. “Dude, I see you with him every morning. The man looks like he’s about to recite the Gettysburg Address just to get a smile out of you. And you’re over here acting like he doesn’t exist.”

You shift uncomfortably, crossing your arms. “He’s only doing it because he feels obligated, Sam. It’s Tony Stark. He doesn’t actually care about me.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You really believe that? You think he’s the kind of guy who’d waste his time on someone he doesn’t care about?”

You don’t answer, but you can feel Sam’s eyes on you, cutting through all your defenses. He’s always been able to read you better than anyone, and right now, that’s the last thing you want.

“He’s trying, Y/N,” Sam continues, his voice softer. “Like, really trying. And I get it. I get that you’ve been burned, but… maybe give him a chance? Just talk to him. It’s not like he’s gonna run off if you tell him what’s going on.”

You look away, jaw clenched as you try to shake off the knot of emotion tightening in your chest. You don’t want to admit that Sam might be right. Letting someone in, giving someone a chance—that’s always been a dangerous game, one you’re not sure you can afford to play again.

That night, you’re lying awake in your room, staring at the ceiling, Sam’s words playing on a loop in your mind. The silence around you feels heavy, pressing down on you, and you can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you owe Tony more than you’ve been giving him. You’ve seen his effort, the way he tries to connect with you, even when you push him away. He’s there, every day, waiting for you, and no one has ever done that before.

Something shifts in you, a kind of tired resignation, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you get up and head downstairs to his workshop.

Tony’s hunched over a table, tinkering with some gadget, and he barely notices you at first. It’s only when you clear your throat that he looks up, surprise flickering across his face before he masks it with a smile.

“Hey, kid,” he says, setting down his tools. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling the weight of what you’re about to say. “Yeah, I just… I wanted to talk to you about something.”

He raises an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and concern on his face. He gestures to a nearby chair. “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

You sit, staring at your hands as you try to find the right words. For a long time, there’s only silence between you, the air thick with tension. Finally, you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to speak.

“I know I’ve been… difficult,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I know you’re trying. It’s just… it’s not easy for me.”

Tony watches you intently, not interrupting, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it. You look down, focusing on your hands, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

“When I was a kid, my mom was all I had. I thought… I thought she cared about me, even if she didn’t always show it. But she changed, especially after she started seeing this guy. Travis. He wasn’t… he wasn’t a good person, Tony. He… he made sure I knew I wasn’t wanted.” Your voice breaks slightly, but you push through it, feeling the old wounds tear open. “He told me I was a burden, that I was just in the way. And my mom, she… she just let it happen. She barely even looked at me by the end.”

Tony’s face darkens, his jaw clenched as he listens, but he stays silent, letting you continue.

“I learned not to trust people,” you say, voice wavering. “Every time I thought someone would stick around, they didn’t. So I stopped… I stopped letting people in. I told myself it was easier that way.”

You look up at him, and for the first time, there’s no mask, no shield—just raw vulnerability, something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in years.

“And then I showed up here,” you say, your voice barely a whisper now. “And you… you keep trying. You keep showing up, every day, like you actually care. And it’s… it’s confusing, okay? Because part of me wants to believe it, but the other part…” You trail off, wiping away a tear that slips down your cheek.

Tony doesn’t hesitate. He reaches over, placing a hand on your shoulder, grounding you, letting you know he’s there. “Y/N,” he says softly, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t change what you went through. I can’t go back and fix it, as much as I wish I could. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You meet his gaze, and there’s something in his eyes that you’ve never seen before—a fierce, unwavering resolve that feels almost foreign. You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words sink in, feeling the tiniest flicker of hope spark to life.

“It’s not easy for me,” you murmur. “It’s… it’s hard for me to trust people. And I know I’m not the easiest person to be around. But… I want to try. I want to believe you. I just… I need you to be patient with me. I need you to not give up on me.”

Tony nods, his hand still resting on your shoulder, steady and reassuring. “Hey,” he says, his voice breaking a little. “I’m not giving up on you, kid. Not now, not ever. You’re my son, and I’m here for the long haul. However long it takes, okay?”

The words settle around you, a warmth you haven’t felt in years. You don’t have to say anything; he seems to understand, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he lets go. And in that moment, something in you softens, just a little, like maybe you can let him in.

For the first time, you allow yourself to believe him, to believe that maybe he really won’t walk away. And even though the walls around your heart don’t come down all at once, you feel them start to crack, piece by piece, letting a little light seep in.

After that night, things start to change. It’s slow, gradual, like thawing ice, but there’s a noticeable shift between you and Tony. You’re still guarded, still wary of letting him all the way in, but he doesn’t push. He just keeps showing up, every day, every night, just like he promised. And slowly, piece by piece, you let him in.

The first time you ask to work on something together, Tony practically beams. You’re sitting at the kitchen counter with your physics homework in front of you—normally a breeze, something you’d get done in a few minutes. But today, you’ve left a few problems untouched, hoping he’ll notice.

Sure enough, Tony glances over your shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “Need a hand with that?” he asks, and there’s a careful lightness to his voice, like he’s trying to keep things casual, so he doesn’t scare you off.

You shrug, trying to act indifferent. “Sure, if you’ve got time,” you say, even though both of you know you could solve this on your own without breaking a sweat. But Tony doesn’t call you out on it. He just grabs a chair, pulls it over, and sits down next to you, leaning in to look at your work.

For the next hour, the two of you go over formulas and theories, his explanations coming with a few sarcastic quips and exaggerated hand gestures. Every so often, he goes off on a tangent, telling you stories about his own time in high school or sharing a strange fact he thinks will help you remember a concept. You listen, half-smiling at his antics, and eventually even throw in a few of your own sarcastic comments. You can tell he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it, but there’s a spark in his eyes that tells you he’s thrilled to be here, helping you, no matter how small the reason.

As the days go by, you find yourself spending more and more time in Tony’s workshop. It becomes your safe space, the place where you don’t feel like you have to hide or put up walls. Tony lets you explore, handing you tools and explaining how they work, guiding you through his more complicated inventions. It’s like learning a new language, one he’s eager to teach you, and he’s a surprisingly patient teacher.

One afternoon, he’s working on a new suit upgrade, and you’re watching, silently impressed by how smoothly he moves, how every action is precise and practiced. You’re deep in thought when he glances over at you, smirking.

“Thinking of joining the family business?” he jokes, tossing you a wrench. “If you’re interested, I could always use an extra pair of hands.”

You catch the wrench, feeling a rare, genuine smile tug at the corners of your mouth. “Maybe I will,” you say, feeling a rush of warmth that’s unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

He shows you how to tighten a piece of armor plating, explaining each step with a casual ease that you find yourself getting lost in. There’s something oddly comforting about the way he talks, like he’s sharing a secret only the two of you understand. And as you work, side by side, you realize that you actually look forward to these moments, the quiet companionship that comes from working together on something you both enjoy.

One evening, you catch yourself staring at your chemistry textbook, pages open to a particularly dull section on thermodynamics. Normally, you’d power through it on your own, but tonight, you feel the familiar tug of loneliness creeping in, and before you know it, you’re on your feet, heading down to Tony’s lab.

When you reach the doorway, he looks up, surprised, then quickly wipes the expression off his face and pretends to be engrossed in his latest project. “What’s up?” he asks, as casually as he can manage.

You hold up the textbook, pretending to be annoyed. “This stuff is terrible. Thought maybe you could explain it better than my teacher does.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, I’m honored to know you think so highly of my teaching skills.” He gestures for you to sit down, and as you do, he starts flipping through the pages of your book. “Thermodynamics, huh? You sure you’re not just here for the riveting conversation?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But you both know the truth, and there’s an unspoken understanding between you as he dives into the material. He doesn’t just lecture; he makes it a story, breaking down each concept with analogies, acting out scenarios, and throwing in enough jokes to keep you both entertained. You throw in questions just to keep him talking, just so you don’t have to go back to your empty room just yet.

And somewhere along the way, you realize you’re not just learning about science. You’re learning about him—about his quirks, his sense of humor, the way he lights up when he’s talking about things he’s passionate about. He’s not just Tony Stark, billionaire genius, Iron Man. He’s… Tony, your dad, someone who, against all odds, actually seems to care about you.

Over time, you both fall into a rhythm. Tony starts waiting for you in the mornings, holding out a cup of coffee or hot chocolate, claiming he needs company on his drive to work. You never say it, but you look forward to those mornings, the way he fills the car with stories about his latest projects or about old college pranks he pulled that make you laugh in spite of yourself.

One day, you’re both hunched over a set of schematics in his lab, tossing ideas back and forth as you brainstorm a new design for a stabilizer that could potentially improve flight control in his suits. You’re getting so into it that you forget to be guarded, throwing out suggestions, bouncing thoughts off each other in rapid-fire succession.

At one point, Tony stops, leaning back in his chair to look at you with a smirk. “You know,” he says, a touch of pride in his voice, “you’re pretty damn good at this. Got that Stark brain for sure.”

You feel a warmth spread through you, and for the first time, you don’t brush it off. “Maybe,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “But I guess it helps when you have a good teacher.”

Tony chuckles, but there’s a glimmer of emotion in his eyes, something raw and unguarded. “Yeah, well… you’re not a bad student either.”

There’s a moment of silence as the two of you look at each other, an understanding passing between you that doesn’t need words. You know he’s trying, and somehow, that knowledge makes the walls around your heart crumble just a little bit more.

A few days later, you’re working on homework in the living room when Tony walks in, holding a set of blueprints he’s obviously excited about. But when he sees you bent over your books, he pauses, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, need some help?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You look up, raising an eyebrow back at him. “With calculus? Pretty sure I’ve got this covered.”

He shrugs, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I was quite the calculus prodigy back in the day.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smirk, half-teasing. “Care to prove it?”

Tony grins, and before you know it, he’s pulled up a chair, leaning over your work with the same intensity he brings to his inventions. You pretend to need help with a few problems, and he’s more than happy to guide you through them, throwing in jokes and sarcastic comments the whole way. Every so often, he nudges your shoulder, grinning like he���s just scored a victory when he catches you smiling.

Eventually, he lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I think we’ve both learned a lot today,” he says, stretching dramatically.

“Yeah,” you reply, smirking. “Like the fact that you’re worse at calculus than I am.”

Tony gapes, clutching his chest in mock hurt. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own son. This is a new low.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, and for the first time, it feels easy. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to keep fighting him off.

“Hey,” Tony says, his tone shifting to something softer. “Thanks for letting me in. I know it wasn’t easy.”

You meet his gaze, feeling that familiar vulnerability creeping in, but this time, you don’t shy away. “Thanks for not giving up,” you reply quietly. “I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with.”

Tony chuckles, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “Nah, you’re a piece of cake. Besides, I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

You smile, a real one this time, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. For the first time, you allow yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay.

It’s supposed to be a routine mission. Just another intel-gathering run, in and out, with minimal risk. Tony had waved it off as no big deal before he left, throwing you a smirk and saying, “Just another day in the office.” But that was hours ago. And now, as you sit in the dim glow of the living room, watching the news report blaring on the screen, dread twists deep in your gut.

You watch the shaky footage of Iron Man fighting, and this time, it’s different. He’s outnumbered, missiles tearing through the air, beams of energy slicing through the smoke and chaos. The news anchor’s voice breaks as they report the intensity of the fight, how Iron Man was last seen plunging out of the sky after a heavy hit. For a terrifying moment, you catch a glimpse of him falling, his suit battered, smoking, before the feed cuts out entirely.

Your heart stops, and a painful tightness fills your chest. The hours that follow are a blur of pacing, every second dragging longer than the last. You’re used to him going out on missions, used to the danger that comes with being Tony Stark’s son. But this… this is different. This isn’t the usual playful bravado, the usual cocky promises that he’ll be home for dinner. This is life or death, and for the first time, you’re faced with the horrifying thought that he might not make it back.

After what feels like an eternity, the front door finally opens. You spin around, heart pounding, and there he is, looking worse for wear but alive. He’s moving a bit stiffly, his armor scratched and dented, his face smudged with dirt and a few new cuts. But he’s here.

Before he can say a word, you rush toward him, the flood of relief hitting you so hard that you barely register the fact that you’re moving, throwing yourself into his arms. Your grip is tight, like if you let go, he’ll disappear. You don’t even realize you’re trembling until you feel his arms close around you, holding you just as tightly.

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, his voice soft, touched with surprise but warm. “I’m okay, kid. I’m here.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears, and he’s looking at you with an expression so full of gentle understanding that it makes you feel like a kid again, vulnerable and desperate. Without thinking, the word slips out, raw and unguarded.

“Dad…” you whisper, voice breaking slightly, “don’t ever… don’t ever do that again. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

Tony’s face softens, his own eyes welling up. He’s silent for a moment, as if he’s savoring the word, the weight of it finally hitting home. His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, his grip firm but gentle, grounding you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. But I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod, the tears slipping down your cheeks now, and Tony pulls you in again, holding you tightly, his hand running gently over your back. It’s the first time you’ve let yourself fully embrace him, the first time you’ve allowed yourself to lean into his strength, to accept the warmth he’s been trying so hard to offer. And as you stand there, held in his arms, a sense of peace settles over you, soft and comforting, melting the last of your walls away.

After a long moment, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, a tear slipping down his own cheek as he smiles, eyes bright. “You called me ‘Dad,’” he says softly, his voice full of wonder, as if he’s just received the greatest gift in the world.

You give a small, watery smile, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, well… don’t get used to it,” you mumble, but there’s no heat behind the words, only affection, only gratitude.

He chuckles, pulling you back into a hug, and you feel his hand rest on the back of your head, his grip firm and reassuring. “I’m already used to it,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not letting you go, kid. Not ever.”

In that moment, you realize that this is what home feels like—right here, safe in his arms, with nothing left to fear.

I'll never get tired of familyman!Tony I swear.

[annabelle-creart]

Dear Trollhunters, Wild Robot, Dragon Prince and Rescue Bots fans

I have this concept of multiverse in my head where all the characters of series, games and movies I have watched exist in different universes, completely separated but united my magic

One of the many characteristics of this multiverse is the fact that some characters share something named essence, this is what souls, sparks and spirits are made, and if someone of another universe has your same essence, is because they are variants

What is my point?

I’m a fan of the four series and movie I just told you, and based in both canon and headcanons, I truly believe Arrrgh, Rozz, Aaravos and Boulder are variants

And the rest is pure headcanons, analysis and shit like the ships across the multiverse I did time ago, so, read if you can or want and if not, oks

I will also talk about Heatwave, Sissi and Salvage’s variants

Also, is stupid to say that this includes spoilers for the ones who doesn’t know about the other media

Ok, so, I think with Rozz, Boulder and Arrrgh is pretty obvious, the three of them didn’t knew a single shit about life, stayed two days and ended up liking it, even getting friends and families out there, so, why Aaravos? The motherfucker who, because of the death of his daughter, made an entire sea with his tears and later got up to fuck the lives of the ones who made that possible, including all the beings who crossed on his way

Well, it’s actually because of that

Let’s remember Arrrg wasn’t always a pacifist, he was a gum gum before, Rozz first was made to be just a robotic maid with programed responses and (mostly headcanons because we never got any info of the bots back on Cybertron) Boulder lived on a society that constantly denigrated the classes depending on the job, Aaravos literrally said “fuck you” to the system and did whatever he wanted, for both love and revenge, Arrrgh, Rozz and Boulder did the same, Arrrgh leave the gum gums and befriended Blinky, Rozz adapted to became mother of Brightbill and Boulder leave behind their past on Cybertron to start a new life painting and gardening, the difference is that Aaravos committed murder and magic crimes while Arrrgh, Rozz and Boulder preferred to be good people :v

So, yes, I truly believe those four are variants and I love them that way so much, and Aaravos could learn a lot about those three, same for the rest from Aaravos, I want to believe Aaravos can still be good but he gave so much priority to his plan revenge that forgot that and now uses his good part to manipulate people

Wrath: you can’t be actually serious

Writer: OH I CAN! WATCH ME, DRAWER!

Drawer: gimme a sec…

(Reminder this was made in a rush with 0 references or sketch, only quick lineart)

Drawer: Done!

Writer: IT’S SO CUTEEEEEE!

They also made a grupal therapy to see if they could help Aaravos with his angry issues!

Even Aaravos was puzzled about looking at Arrrgh act so chilly and laugh about his own trauma as a gum gum general, not even Boulder knew what to say or what to do about it. Rozz could only share a listener shoulder

But hey! They shared a lot of funny tales! And they even discovered their respective partners were also variants!

Because yes, I believe Heatwave, Fink, Blinky and Avizandum are variants too

Researcher: but Avizandum is not Aaravos partner

Writer: not their normal partner, their hate partner! Aaravos was so dammed angry when he found out he’s friend with Avi in another universes! Like, play it please!

——

Aaravos: you can’t be serious!

Boulder: why not?

Aaravos: because we’re not even friends! He caged me in a magic pearl at the button of the sea I did myself!! He’s egotistical and believes he’s more than anyone else for the mere fact he’s a damn dragon!!

Arrrgh: …am

Rozz: Well! Not because we are variants our stories are the same, haha

Boulder: exactly! I’m sorry Avizandum did that, but Rozz is right, my Heatwave would never caged on a pearl… it sounds weird when I say it out loud

Aaravos: I know, right? It took me some centuries to get accomplished to the fact and say it out loud normally

Rozz: Fink had the chance to leave me at my luck but he didn’t… well, whatever, the point is, yes, he did bad things and hurt you but now he can’t, right?

Arrrgh: the best is to let go

Rozz: Exactly!

Aaravos: …hm, you’re right, he’s dead after all, is not like he can do much

Rozz: Exactly- wait, he’s dead?

—

Drawer: Rozz definitely didn’t expected that

—

So… yes, that’s mostly of what I can say about them, I just think they’re cool and I love them, I wanted Rozz, Boulder and Arrgh to be friend and Aaravos deserves to heal. I mean, a domestic robot, an alien transformer, a troll and a touchstar elf in the same room is all I wanted to see today(their dynamic remembers me a lot of those comics where Bill Cipher is sent to Gravity Falls to pay for his shit and heal his traumas)

And also

Aaravos with braids and flowers in his head because of those three is so 🌟 🌟 🌟

And then we have Heatwave fighting the flames Mandrake made because Fink won in poker while Blink is hidden behind the table in the other room :v

And I decided to use Mandrake from the movie Epic instead of Avizandum because I truly believe he and Aaravos are the drama queens of the club and definitely I think they would be good friends (and they both lost a child, so…)

And also because Avi is dead

…

Writer: guys-?

All: no

Writer: But-

Researcher: THEY AREN’T EVEN FROM THE SAME STUDIO, MANDRAKE IS FROM BLUE SKY AND AARAVOS IS FROM WONDERSTORM

Reader: you’re intrusive crack ships thoughts scare me sometimes

Writer: WELL, WHATEVER! THE POINT IS THAT THOSE FOUR ARE SO DIFFERENT FROM EACH OTHER AND THAT’S FUNNY

Like, can you imagine the hothead of Heatwave, Blinky who is such a nerd, Mandrake who is an edgy bitch and Fink the sassy fox?

I just can think of them like (featuring Avi’s ghost)

And then we have Sissi and Salvage talking and playing Five nights at Freddy’s with Brightbill, Zym, Toby, Jim, Dagda and Leola because the fuck, the little girl likes terror and the teens had passed through a lot to get scared easily-

[honestmrdual]

Each passing day I get infinitely more annoyed by people hating Gotham!Jervis Tetch, specifically how they word their hate.

"Why writers felt the need to write Hatter in such disgusting way?" Yes, how dared they write incestuous rapist as an irredeemable villain in our innocent and pure tv show, where police violence used as a funny background joke, characters trying to kill each other is variation of a love language, and an episodes without graphic murder scenes are considered lighthearted? Shocking. Scandalous.

There's hundreds and hundreds of posts where fans complain that implications of Tetch's storyline makes them uncomfortable, and no posts about implications of Strange's storyline where he kidnaps, tortures and mutilates people for his scientific needs, or Gordon's storyline where he uses police force as his own personal army, or Falcone's storyline about him being ruthless mafiosi who has almost infinite power and control over city and it's population. Seems to be no one is uncomfortable by these implications because they are not inherently sexual ¯_(ツ)_/¯

[ganondoodle]

Empress and her Bodyguard.

(OCs, grey haired lady Zaphira she/her, demon Shargon he/they)

(also some details up close)

and this guy bc i find him funny

[silusvesuius]

nnnnnnnnnnnnno maa'am

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ive come to realise that i dont actually hate kubokai, i just hate the way people write them

[stardust-falling]

fandom psa; there is nothing whatsoever that is inherently "problematic" about shipping characters who are "found family."

Adoption is not found family. A blended family is not found family. A found family or chosen family is a group which, through circumstances or simply mutual affection, hold their relationship to one another with equal care and importance as family members ought to. It's not the same type of relationship.

It's not incest. It's not even pseudo-incest unless you want it to be. I personally don't care what people ship, but I'm absolutely tired of people misusing the term "found family" to just recreate the idea of a nuclear family and force those roles onto the entirety of a fandom. Sure, maybe characters who are found family may view themselves like siblings, or like a parent and child or aunt and niece, but they might also just see each other as friends-- and guess what? romantic partners too! That's technically the most widely-accepted form of found family/chosen family there is!

The whole point of found family/chosen family is to have the importance of "family" on relationships that lie outside the commonly-understood bounds of that relationship. Not to recreate the "mommy-daddy-daughter-son" dynamic with unrelated characters and use that headcanon or fanon dynamic to enforce your own morality or preferences on other fans.

[reginamillls]

I think the deleted scene is simply showing you how much Buck is cared for by the people he chose to be in his life, and from someone who craved that care and attention for so long I just think that's neat that Buck has so many people now that do, and idk I'm just happy for him

[hysterotic]

i hate when i read a baji fanfic with an interesting plot & find out his character is severely dumbed down.. like if your gonna make him stupid the least you could do is make it funny but it’s really not 😭

[deoidesign]

Hii! I have been recently getting more and more obsessed with your art and webcomic and was wondering if I could use your art as like a profile picture? (With credit!!) If not that's perfectly fine! :)

yeah you can use my art for whatever as long as you're not stealing it or selling it

I don't mind if people print my art out for themselves either. I do sell prints, but it doesn't bother me either way

In general I don't post anything that I haven't made my peace with all that comes with sharing my art publicly! So feel free to use it as you please pretty much.

Giving me credit for the things I've made is respectful and helps me in my career, and I would hope that most people intend to respect my work... And the people who don't respect my work were never going to whether I asked or not.

I make my work for other people to enjoy it, I want you to enjoy it!