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alphajocklover · 9 months ago

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No longer a Spider, finally a Man

**Hey! First time doing a fanfic muscle growth. Or at least posting it. I hope you guys like it! Please tell me how I can do better, and send in story suggestions if you want!**

Peter Parker loved being Spider-Man. He loved saving people, he loved using his powers to make a difference, he loved swinging through the sky line. But he also hated it. He hated the pressure, the responsibility, the fact that he nd his loved ones were in constant danger, the fact that he was always lying to everyone. He hated that he could never be normal. But then again Peter had never been very normal. Even before becoming Spider-man he had been a nerd. Smart, socially awkward, and tormented by the popular kids. That didn’t exactly change after becoming Spider-Man either, though his social issues had definitely gone to the back burner with him constantly fighting crime. If he was being honest his social life had only gotten worse since becoming a superhero. He had gained some muscle and no longer needed glasses, yes, but he couldn’t exactly show that. He hadn’t had time for his friends, his normally fantastic grades were slipping, and Flashes bullying had only gotten worse.

As Peter, out of costume, walked to Midtown, he wondered what it would be like to be a normal teenager. Not just what it would be like to not be Spider-Man, but to not be a nerd. He wondered what it would be like to be a regular teenage boy. Maybe if he wasn’t Spider-Man he could have even been… cool or something. Probably not, but it was still a nice fantasy. Just as he was imagining this, his spider-sense went off. He looked around, prepared to jump out of the way of any danger, but, even with his super reflexes, he couldn’t get out of the way before the strange something hit him right in the middle of his chest. Peter stumbled back, not realizing that the reality stone, one of the infinity stones, had lodged itself inside of his heart. Normally such a thing would kill someone, or at least hurt them, but due to the magic nature of the stone it phased through his chest and inside of him without harming him. Peter blinked. What… just happened? He had sworn something had just flown into his chest but… wouldn’t that have killed him or something? Before he could investigate further, an alarm on his phone began to ring. Crap, he was late for class! Peter ran into the school as the power of the reality stone seeped into his blood. He turned a corner, just a hallway away from his classroom, when he almost ran straight into a wall of muscle, his super-reflexes being the only thing that saved him. As he skirted to a halt, he came face to face with his biggest tormentor (supervillains and news editors notwithstanding) : Flash Thompson. The most popular jock in school and Peter Parker's personal bully. The blond quarterback sneered cockily at Peter before he spoke

“Hey there Puny Parker. Running late again? I thought geeks like you were supposed to be punctual and shit?” Flash said with a cocky mocking laugh.

“What do you want, Flash?” Peter asked with a scowl, trying to keep his patience.

“Just checking up on my favorite nerd.” Flash mocked, grabbing Peter’s arm. Before Peter could react, Flash had shoved him up against the locker, peters arm pinned behind his back. What the heck? He had super powers, enhanced reflexes, he should have been able to see that coming. Peter didn’t realize that his subconscious desire to be normal was repressing his powers. Unable to fight back, Peter was shoved into a nearby open locker and locked inside. Peter sighed. Stuck in a locker again. Peter didn’t notice as the orange light in his chest began to glow. He closed his eyes and deeply wished… to stop being a loser. To be normal. To be… anything else than who he was. The orange light grew brighter and brighter… until it completely consumed Peter. Suddenly he heard something

“Parker… Parker!”

With a start Peter Parker woke up, looking around in shock. He was… in a classroom? He was sitting at a desk at the back of a class he didn’t recognize, one that he seemed to have been sleeping through. Had all of that been a crazy dream? He looked over to see the remedial math teacher, Ms Jones. What was he doing in remedial math? Before he could say anything, Ms Jones spoke once more

“Mr Parker, please try to stay awake during class. Your grade is already low enough.” She said, sending a chuckle throughout the room. Peter spoke without thinking, his voice deeper and fuller than he remembered.

“Sorry teach. I’m still tired from our ‘study session’ last night. Thanks for the extra tutoring by the way~” he said. Did he just… flirt with a teacher? He did! And weirdly enough the slight embarrassed blush on Ms Jones face suggested that it was working. Ms. Jones spoke again, more timid this time

“While.. just don’t be late tonight.” She said with a slight wink, before walking over to the front of the classroom again. This caused the class, which now that Peter was looking consisted mostly of the football team, too laugh loudly, one punching Peter on the shoulder in a playful manner. Peter felt a smirk he couldn’t control come over his face, and his eyes involuntaries followed Ms Jones' ass as she walked back to the front of the class. In a daze, Peter tried to figure out what was happening. Wasn’t he just in a locker? What was he doing in remedial math? And why was he acting so weird? Before he could wonder any further, the bell rang and class was dismissed. Peter ran out without talking to anyone, and headed to a nearby bathroom. He looked in the mirror and froze. It was Peter but… completely different. He was bigger, taller, with wider shoulders. He had full, bouncy pecs that were barely contained by his tank top, shredded abs that he could grate cheese on, and truly impressive biceps. Peter had gone from a geek who gets stuffed into lockers to a huge muscular jock! Peter wanted to be shocked, to be horrified, but… he felt another smirk cross his face. He began to flex his muscles cockily. He smirked and felt his thoughts turn. He looked fucking amazing! I mean, of course he did. He was big Pete Parker, the big man, the quarterback, the stud! Slowly Peter began to forget about his old self, too absorbed in the strong, dull thoughts going through his head. He wondered what he and his best bro Flash would do after football practice? Maybe beat up some geeks, or find a hottie to hook up with? Peter had a lot of girls to choose from already, including MJ, Liz, Gwen, Charlie and of course Ms Jones, but… he wouldn’t mind another. Pete smirked and strut out of the bathroom, not noticing a light orange glow between his pecs. Life was fucking sweet.

#jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #muscle growth tf #nerd to jock #reality change #muscle tf #Spider man TF

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adventuringblind · 1 year ago

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Joint Coping

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst

Dialouge: "Help me understand."

Summary: Max helps his partners learn to cope in healthy ways

Warnings: Selh-harm, unhealthy Coping, blood, Ferrari, Max being the sane one of the group

Notes: I would like to emphasize that this is a thing that does happen. I know because I've done it. This specifically is not something to be glorified at all. Self-harm done in groups can become competitive. This is a pretty toned down version of things I've experienced and it's less toxic. THIS IS NOT REACHING OUT. Just wanted to clarify :)

This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open if you'd like to participate (the link will take you to the request form).

Masterlist

Max knows something is wrong with his partners. It's like an itch in his brain he can't scratch. A sixth sense, if you will.

The two Ferrari drivers are struggling with their team. Every problem is their fault. They have become the Ferrari scapegoats. When they do poor, it's the driver. When they do good, it's the team and the car.

He's coming to the end of his patience. If he has to hear them self deprecate one more time he might actually consider making them stand in the mirror and say nice things about themselves. Can he fuck it out of them? Is that a possibility? He really doesn't know but is desperate and willing to try anything.

They both DNF at the next race. Max is a man on a mission through media and debrief. He needs to see that they are okay. At the very least not sitting through some kind of lecture a parent gives to a child.

He sprints to the Ferrari garage and runs into Carlos. Despite his injury that took him out of the season, he still comes to support his team and teammates.

"Carlos!" The Spainard spins around to face him. "Have you seen-?"

"They already left over an hour ago. Did they not text you?"

There are warning bells going off inside of his head. Something is clearly wrong and they aren't telling him about it. He's about to sprint away when Carlos stops him.

"Before you go, you should that there were some awful things said by their engineers and they looked really upset about it."

"Thanks Carlos."

Max is back at the hotel as fast as he can manage. He tried both their cells with no answer. It's killing him from the inside out with anxiety. He's probably just overthinking, but it'll feel better when he sees they are okay.

He keys the door open and doesn't bother taking off his shoes. The lights are off aside from the one in the bathroom. Maybe they decided a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. Max could also go for one. He pushes that thought aside for now.

He knocks gently on the door. "You two in there?" No response. Or at least - not one to him directly. There are a few hushed whispers, but nothing loud enough for him to hear.

He waits Aproximatley ten seconds before he can't handle it anymore and swings the door open. He expects to see fogged mirror and water on the floor. Instead he's met with the sight red wrists and thighs.

He's lost. Max Verstappen has no idea what to do.

They are stripped down to undergarments. Legs dangling over the side of tub. A switchblade in the hands of Charles. They both look teary eyed and doped out. Are they enjoying this?

God, he feels so stupid. Weeks of having Sex with no lights on, sweatshirts in hot weather, no swimming and doing private ice bathes away from trainers. He should've noticed. Max could've stopped this sooner. He wants to rewind and tell them to come to him instead of relying on this to get the through.

"Guess you caught us." Charles let's out a half assed laugh. "You gonna stare at us all night? Or can we get the yelling part over with? Last three partners left us when they caught it. I understand if it's to much. Not your burden."

Max had been a later addition. The two in the bathtub had been together since their teenage years. Had they been Coping like this for so long?

"Sorry about the mess. Relapses are hard. We made it all season until a month ago." She leans her head onto Charles' shoulder. How can they make this type of environment endearing? This is unreal and they need serious help. Which Max will eventually get them when he can get his act together.

He kneels on the floor in between them. Max is just now registering the tears on his cheeks. They'd been in pain for so long. It hurts him just thinking about it.

"I'm not going to yell-" he looks at one. "-I'm not going to leave-" he looks at the other. "But help me understand. I want to help."

"It's easier to do with someone else around. It's more therapeutic." The lopsided smile on the female's face is not helping Max. He has to many questions.

First, he gets them cleaned up. Neither of them flinch when he disenfects the wounds. They don't look at him as he wraps them in whatever gauz is in the first aid kit. They look ashamed as he puts the knife in his bag and rinses the tub.

The one that gets him, however, is the look of pure confusion when Max hugs them both so tightly. It's like they don't know how to respond.

They sit in a circle on the bed. It's comfortable and Max can see both their expressions clearly.

"I know the struggle." He starts. "Punishing yourself is better then someone else doing it, right? But I had Daniel there reminding me to reach out."

"It's just easier this way."

"Easier isn't better. Look at the state you're in. I'm not leaving, but I am getting the both of you help."

He followed through with this the next morning. Then looked supposed to see him when they woke up. He, and his childish mind, kissed all the cuts and scars. Every single one of them received proper treatment.

The female cried and thre her arms around Max. Charles had looked away in shame. The reasons they started this are still foreign to him, but that's not his priority.

He gets them help. All of them, mind you. They do group sessions as the three of them to find healthier ways to cope with each other.

Reasons seem to fade into the background because they don't matter as much. The important thing is that Max caught it in time. That he didn't lose them to their own minds. They are partners, and Max would be devistated to lost someone he loves to those dark places.

He rests easier now that the itch has been scratched. His partners are doing better. They smile and laugh at his stupid jokes again. A bit of confidence regained.

And Max reminds them daily that nothing is worth it if you have to destroy yourself for it. Drivers or not, he loves them regardless.

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lucyskywalker · 18 days ago

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My dearly loved person. Let me tell you something. I am not anti bucky. I love his character indeed. As I love Steve, Natasha, Clint, etc,etc. The only problem regarding Tony-Bucky for me is Steve, who never told his friend about how his parents were murdered in the hands of his brother in everything but blood (even if Bucky wasnt aware of what he was doing at the time) and turned a serious political problem into something personal.... Well. More personal than already was. (Tony also did that, since he was in favor of the acords because of his feeling of guilty for uk, Ultron). I can understand both parts very easily. I understand why Steve did what he did, and why Tony reacted the way he did. And Bucky - the victim he is - was literally caught in the middle of the crossfire between the two of them.

The only person in the entirety of UCM with all its characters I dislike is Wanda. What is not fair, if I am being honest, but that is how I feel and I won't excuse myself for it.

I agree with u that Tony is not the greatest person who ever lived. But I disagree with u on the fact that he never learns or that he never feels the consequences. The entire point of UCM Tony is that everytime he tries to fix something, he actually makes things worse. All the time he creates something after IM 1 was to protect himself and the people he loved, while seeking redemption for all his wrongdoings in the past, and most part of the times - if not always - it blows up in his face. He tries, he tries, and it never works. This comes with his anxiety and paranoia for all his trials in IM 1, Avengers 1 and later on with someone messing with his head. (Even if barely, as you liked to point out). That is why a lot of people actually relate to him.

Now trying to excuse Wanda's wrongdoings saying that Stark doesnt need powers to be a cósmic threat is another thing entirely. I agree Tony is dangerous enough being a regular human no need of enhancement, but Wanda also is one. You wanted to mention the comics - weird the post is not even about the comics, hence I dont like to read comics enough - Dimension W also proofs that Wanda is as big as a threat as Tony is. Not only that, Wanda is one of the most powerful beings comic wise, and ucm wise.

Funny enough, Tony is not my favorite character in the comics. That would be Steve, Storm or Rogue. Tony is only my favorite in the UCM, and in the comics - since you mentioned it - he also faces consequences for his actions, since he lost his entire fortune, his team, his friendships for the actions he did for himself being fully aware of the consequences. You can argue that this punishment is not enough - what I agree - but these are marvel heroes comics.

What I don't like in Wanda fandom is that they always come to a content that is not related to Wanda, be it on TikTok, Tumblr, YouTube to stir hate or glaze on her. Everytime I come across that fandom - what is always by accident, mind you since I have the tags filtered in tumblr and later on filtered on tik tok what is very much the reason I barely complain about UCM/Marvel here on my blog -, you always criticize everything Tony had done but excusing every war crime she commited, what it is a double standard.

You know who else had a hand in the creation of Ultron? Banner. But I don't see a single soul pointing finger at him. Wanda also did have a hand on Ultron, messing with the mind of Tony during the process. So did Tony have a hand on Ultron, since he created the most part of the code.

Now for me that discussion is over. I wont stop disliking Wanda because of a thread, neither I will stop liking Tony because of it.

Oh. I love when an anti-tony stark post comes into my dash for him commeting war crimes... and the op profile pic is Wanda.

Dont you guys love it? The hypocrisy?

#honestly #anti wanda maximoff #ultron shouldnt even be Tonys creation either since in the comics he was build by hank pym #either way the three of them are partially to blame so whatever #will i really need to tag the og post as anti-wanda becauae of my complaining on the tags???#going to do that eitherway #funny thing that really pissed me off and made me rant was the fact of people blaming Tony for something that HOWARD did #oh well. there's someone i dislike more than Wanda and this person is Howard #nice thing to make it look like trying to kill a teenager is something better than trying to kill an infant #both are very much children yet #so sorry if the nomenclature - in my tags - was not correct

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suzukiblu · 1 year ago

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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for an anon; a fake cryptid and a real romantic.

“I think I’m gonna try making him a ruby and do that in a trilliant cut,” Superboy says decisively, which isn’t necessarily much progress towards “normal” friend-making but again, Clark doesn’t want to discourage either a hobby or a creative outlet for the kid. Or just literally anything that isn’t about being a superhero, even if the trilliant cut resembling the S-shield and making friends with a vigilante are only sort of “not about being a superhero”.

Look, the kid’s six months old and was educated by ethically bankrupt scientists and absolutely exhausted grad student interns, absolutely none of whom had either normal childhoods or an interest in instilling any semblance of “normal” in their cloned Superman’s head. Clark’s not going to be picky here, he’s just gonna meet him where he’s at and go from there.

Superboy has some unfortunate difficulties understanding the difference between celebrity attention versus genuine admiration and things like that, and also an unfortunate tendency towards causing a lot of unnecessary property damage and jumping to conclusions and temper issues, but he tries, and he clearly does think about things. There’s just a lot to figure out in the world, and he’s had to do it in speed-run mode and while being an active superhero.

Really, Clark thinks the kid’s doing a lot better as a superhero than he would’ve done at his “age”, and he’d actually been that “age”. Superboy is frankly just about the best-case scenario that could’ve come out of a situation like Cadmus and also mercifully only seems to be minimally traumatized by the sorry excuse for a “childhood” he was provided, so . . .

“That sounds nice,” Clark says, smiling at him. “I’m sure you’ll do a good job with it.”

“I’m gonna do a good job with it if it fucking kills me,” Superboy says, looking determined, which seems like a lot of intensity to put into making a gift for a friend, but again: six months old and educated by ethically bankrupt scientists. Clark is going to stick with the “meeting him where he’s at” approach.

“Just do your best to start, maybe,” he says wryly, reaching over to pat the kid’s shoulder. Superboy grins at him, his expression turning pleased.

“I will!” he says. “Wanna see some of the test ones?”

“Sure,” Clark says, figuring Superboy will just–

Nope, no, Superboy just immediately stuck both hands into his jacket pockets and came up with two big fistfuls of a good dozen high-quality diamonds done in trilliant cuts. Very large diamonds.

Heavens to Betsy, Clark thinks a little faintly. That is . . . that is so many diamonds for Superboy to just have in his pockets. They weren’t even zipped shut! They weren’t even buttoned!

Superboy lays his series of diamonds all out in neat little rows on the ledge, because there are enough of them to require multiple rows, and then reaches back into his pockets for a few more, because of course there are more. Clark continues to feel vaguely faint and has absolutely no idea how to point out how much money this is. Even at lab diamond rates, this is so much money. Just–so much.

At this point in his life Clark has seen entire planets made of diamond, mind, but he still grew up in smalltown Kansas as a farm kid, so there’s something about seeing quite this many virtually flawless ones just laid out on a Metropolis rooftop the same way he would’ve shown off his POG collection to his friends as a kid. Even the damn cuts are just shy of perfect.

Well, at least Superboy’s enjoying his first hobby, he supposes. But also, Jesus H. Christ.

“They look good, kid,” Clark says, smiling at him encouragingly. No need to take the wind out of his sails, obviously. Though seeing them now, it does occur to him to wonder–“Where did you get the tools?”

They must be good ones, because honestly he really wasn’t expecting results this good–or even half this good–from a six month-old teenager. Superboy could definitely ruin De Beers’s day with those.

Or their industry, again.

. . . well, it is De Beers, so . . .

“Oh, I don’t have any,” Superboy says, shaking his head. “I just use my TTK.”

Clark . . . pauses, for a moment.

Clark pauses for a long moment.

“Tactile telekinesis can cut diamond?” he asks carefully. “This precisely?”

“Yeah!” Superboy beams proudly at him. “Cool, right?”

Clark looks very, very closely at the diamonds. The cuts on them are practically atom-sharp.

Alright then, he thinks to himself even more carefully.

#anonymous #wip: a fake cryptid and a real romantic #long post

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lovely-p-issues · 4 months ago

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I have this fanfiction idea for times when my English will become acceptable: (it was in my drafts for months and tbh if I didn't post it today like this, with mistakes and stupid parts, I wouldn't have posted it at all, so, sorry ig)

Book 1: The war

How it all started

Let's make Azulon not madly-evil, but just regular-size-evil: he didn't plan to kill Zuko, because it's a stupid idea to get rid of your possible heir, he just wanted to take a son from Ozai - so he decided to make Zuko Iroh's heir, de facto making him Iroh's son (let's not focus on formality, just assume that you can switch your fathers if you are highborn enough)

(Zuko's life isn't in danger, so Ursa doesn't kill Azulon and he'll be ruling at least to the end of that book)

It may seem a great idea (especially in comparison with killing Zuko) but we can't forget that Iroh just lost a son and is still in grief, absolutely not ready to take care of another kid. He still needs to learn how to find a new path and calm his spirit and now he needs to do it with Zuko around him.

Iroh decides to take Zuko with him for his journey - Azulon approves this, seeing his son (and heir) needs to learn how to live after losing Lu Ten and thinking that Iroh may finally teach Zuko some actual fire bending

"I do not want to want to leave, Azula. I'm sorry, little sister."

"Whatever, Zuzu. At least you won't be distracting me from my lessons. Finally, something good comes from this whole fuss around you."

(In fact, she's not happy. Not at all)

______

At this point, Iroh is not yet the nice old man you know from ATLA. He's a broken man, trying to find a purpose in his life, triggered by Zuko's alikeness to Lu Ten and tired of being imposed on things like taking care of a teenager.

He's not Ozai, he's not cruel or even just bad, he just can't force himself to care.

They don't really talk, only sometimes to establish a plan for their further journey. The worst moments are when Iroh calls Zuko Lu Ten's name and then suddenly stops, looking at him in shock. After that kind of incidents, they stay silent for days.

Zuko starts to blame himself for being, well, alive, when his much better cousin is dead. He convinces himself it would be better if he died and Lu Ten lived.

Zuko spends most of his time alone. He hates making Iroh sad and upset so he chooses to stay away. He doesn't know what this all thing with White Lotus, he just likes the idea of his uncle/formal-dad having friends.

Yet, they travel all around the world and for the first time in his life Zuko sees what sharing progress and civilization by Fire Nation looks like. And he doesn't like that.

He's still loyal to his family, so he doesn't believe that his grandfather knows what is happening.

He decides that he needs to make a proper report (soul of writer, ya know).

He makes notes and talks with people, even if he hates how awkward it is. He believes that it's necessary to help them.

I think it's a wonderful idea to see Zuko interviewing - I mean, investigating-

Zuko's raport list - random traders complaining about the difficulty of staying afloat, - migrants who are fleeing war or have lost their homes to fighting, prisoners of war (this doesn't go down too well, thank goodness Zuko is still a kid and his passion seems adorable so no one kills him), - strange ladies in nice outfits who are paid by horrible men for no one knows what, - malnourished scarred soldiers of the Fire Nation, - children of the Earth Kingdom who teach him their stupid game (once he understood the rules, it wasn't THAT stupid, but still), - crazy old ladies, who won't stop pinching his cheeks, - a young girl with a scar on her face who didn't want to tell him much, but Zuko knew what accidental burns looked like and this wasn't one of them, - a group of artists whose theatre burned down after they refused to perform plays approved by the Fire Nation authorities, - a mother who asks him if he knows what happened to her son who was an earth bender and one day. .. just didn't come home

But we all know that Zuko always prefered to act than think. Pretty often Sometimes he disappears for a night. With him disappears an old, theatre mask.

Son came home and left with his mom. Someone left some gold for the soldiers to buy food. Someone bought the most useless things from traders. Someone left burn ointment made by someone who must have grown up surrounded by fire, on the doorstep of the poor girl. And many other, strange things happened.

Of course no one suspects anything or anyone. Trust me. Not a single soul.

______

Zuko is still training but can't even be angry enough to make a big fire. He's just frustrated and that makes him choke with smoke more than anything.

But with every other day, he feels worse. He gets letters from Azula who started to receive more attention from their mother since Zuko was away. When Ozai's influence is limited, she becomes a little more normal. She's still sharp as a knife and dangerous, but feeling loved by both her parents (even if Oazi is more focused on trying to control her and transform her into a weapon) decreases her psychopathic behaviour.

"Mom asked me to take care of your stupid turtle ducks, dum dum"

She thinks he will be happy hearing that she spends time with their mom, and Zuko, honestly, is happy. It's just-

"Am I even still her son since I'm Uncle Iroh's heir?"

-where is his place now?

For the first time in days, he feels an actual rage. And just like this, his fire bending becomes hundreds of times better, even unhinged and dangerous.

Iroh sees this while coming back from meditation (or whatever) and in a second feels that something is wrong.

He reaches out to Zuko, offering him some advice and lessons, but Zuko, a 13-year-old, harmfully lonely and practically neglected at this point prince, can't hold back anymore:

"YOU WANT TO TEACH ME AFTER MONTHS OF IGNORING ME? YOU'RE JUST LIKE FATHER, HE LOOKS AT US ONLY WHEN WE ARE ABOVE EVERYONE ELSE! WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME WHEN I COULD NOT HOLD A LITTLE FLAME IN MY HANDS? I DON'T NEED YOUR STUPID ADVICE NOW! YOU WEREN'T THAT WISE WHEN YOU LOST BA SING SE AND GOT LU TEN KILLED"

Iroh sters at him calmly for a few seconds.

"You are right. I wasn't. I'm trying to do better. If you change your mind about training, you know where to find me."

Zuko comes to his Uncle by night.

They don't really train. They drink tea instead.

And it becomes a habit.

After a few days, they start to actually train.

They need to breathe a lot. It's too much for Zuko, but Iroh is rather stubborn about this one.

After a few weeks, for the first time in his life, Zuko feels that fire bending is soothing and just pleasant. It feels like home.

It can't last forever. Of course.

______

They stayed for a long time in the Earth Kingdom. One day Zuko sees Ba Sing Se and vast fields of previous battles, trampled, dry land and piles of burnt bodies.

It's not the work of some mad general or bunch of scared soldiers fighting for their lives. It's his chubby nice tea-loving uncle's work. This is not an accident, an accidental casualty of war. They are the pride of the Fire Nation. This is their honour. This is their civilisation and progress.

That's what his family is doing to the world. Purposely.

Something is breaking inside him. Thoughts of mourning for Lu Ten. No one has ever mentioned all those bodies, the people who died here too. His uncle, his good uncle, his father, the pride of his Nation, only cried over his son. He never even hesitated to burn to a crisp anyone who defended his home. Against them.

Zuko isn't very smart, as we know. He screams a lot at Iroh. And then he leaves.

He thinks to himself, that Lu Ten, who actually fought in those battles would understand that it was wrong. But Lu Ten would also know what to do about it.

He wanders for days, trying to avoid people, untill

He crushes into something.

"Why are you running, flame-boy? Your pants are on fire?" *wild laugh*

And this is how Prince Zuko met Lady Toph Beifong.

#avatar the last airbender #zuko #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #uncle iroh #general iroh #avatar aang #toph beifong #atla toph #atla #sokka

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libraryofgage · 1 year ago

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Please write for 42. Maybe it could be something dealing with Steve overhearing something he shouldn't have,maybe something the kids say, or Eddie says to someone. Whatever it is it makes him feel like shit. He talks to Eddie, or Robin (or both!) about how much he's changed over the past few years and how he didn't end up being the person everyone thought he'd be, but after what hes overheard he's crying because even though he did all he could he feels lonelier than ever.

Anon, I love you

Prompt 42 for this prompt list!

“Who’s laughing now?”

“…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.”

I didn't use these quotes exactly, but I came close. It still fits them, though lmao

---

"I should be right back," Steve says, throwing open the van door before hopping out. The moment it closes, Eddie blasts the heavy metal he usually can't because of Steve's sensitive ears. Steve snorts with amusement and heads towards the diner, the smell of fried food and grilling beef overwhelming him the moment he opens the door.

Steve heads up to the counter, flashing a charming smile at Paula, a woman who's been working at the diner longer than Steve has been alive. "We got your usual almost ready, sugar," she tells him, returning the smile as she grabs a receipt from the turning rack and leads him over to the register.

It's a Friday night, which means the diner is bursting with teenagers hanging out in groups or trying to have a romantic date. Steve doesn't usually see anyone he feels like greeting when he picks up food, but a quick sweep this time reveals a table where Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Mike, and Will are sitting. Their table is close to the bar, but none of them seem to have noticed Steve because of their conversation, which is just fine with him.

If he gets dragged into a conversation, he might take too long and make Eddie worry. And if Eddie worries, he'll come bursting into the diner, and there are too many people in here that still blame him for...well, everything, for that to be safe.

"Your total is gonna be $12.93," Paula says, watching as Steve distractedly pulls a twenty from his wallet.

"Keep the change. I'll be waiting over there," he says, nodding to a bar stool somewhat close to where his friends are sitting. He then slides into said stool, leaning on the counter and trying to ignore how sticky it is.

He's close enough now to hear the tail-end of Argyle saying, "--eems like such a nice dude, though."

Mike snorts at him. "You didn't know Steve when he was dating Nancy," he points out.

Oh. They're...talking about him. Steve gets the feeling he should walk away, but he also feels stuck in the stool.

"He wasn't that bad," Nancy says. Silence follows her words, and Steve can imagine the looks she's getting. "Okay, yeah, he was an asshole."

"He smashed my camera," Jonathan says, and Steve wonders if he's imagining a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Here's the thing: Steve apologized for smashing the camera (though, he feels it was still justified) and got Jonathan a new one. A fancy, new one. But it doesn't sound like Jonathan is going to include that detail, too.

"He's a lot better now, though," Will says, and Steve wants to get him a new set of dice for trying to stick up for him.

He then wants to cry and maybe break something when he hears Jonathan and Mike snort and bark out a short laugh.

Steve feels himself grow tense as Nancy and Jonathan regale Argyle with how shitty he was in high school. He keeps waiting for one of the kids to refute or bring up how he's changed, but Mike only adds to it all while Will stays quiet, probably unwilling to get himself laughed at again (not that Steve blames him, honestly).

None of them actually point out how Steve's changed. They laugh at how much of a douchebag he was in high school, and Jonathan tells Argyle to "watch out for King Steve coming through" now that nothing is trying to kill them again.

And Steve feels sick to his stomach. Has...has he not actually changed? Is he really the same King Steve he was in high school? Is he still that asshole who didn't give a shit about others because he was just trying to survive himself, no matter who it hurt? Is this how everyone sees him?

"All right, sugar. Here's your cheeseburgers," Paula says, placing a bag in front of him and jerking him out of his thoughts. "One without tomato but with extra ketchup, and the other with grilled onions."

Steve blinks and smiles at Paula again. "Thanks. Same time next week?"

He waits to see Paula's amused smile and playfully dismissive wave before grabbing the bag and practically running out of the restaurant. He doesn't know if it's good or bad that nobody at the table seems to have noticed his presence or departure.

Steve jerks the door to the van open, not waiting for Eddie to turn the music down before hopping in and slamming it shut. He silently pulls on his seatbelt, holds the food in his lap, and stares at the glove compartment.

"Uh, you okay, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his hand lingering on the volume dial.

"I don't wanna talk about it here," Steve says. Because he's going to talk about it with Eddie, the only other person he trusts to be honest with him is Robin. But this is date night for him and Eddie, and even when he's drowning in self-doubt, Steve doesn't want anyone else to interrupt their date night.

Thankfully, Eddie just nods. "Okay, sweetheart," he says, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Steve doesn't say a word the whole drive, too consumed by forcing himself to focus on Eddie's hand on his thigh. There's a warmth that he feels through the fabric, grounding him and keeping his brain from spiraling too far.

When they finally park (a secluded area close enough to the local make-out spot to still see the romantic stars in the sky without getting caught by anyone else) Eddie turns to Steve and softly asks, "Wanna move to the back, sweetheart?"

Steve grips the bag in his lap tighter, takes a deep breath, and looks at Eddie. He feels a little bad for ignoring the question, but he can't help his worries and fears bubbling out now that they've stopped driving. "I've changed, right? Since high school?"

Eddie blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. But then he nods. "Yeah, Stevie, you've definitely changed."

"Jonathan and Nancy were in the diner with Argyle, Mike, and Will," Steve says, trying and failing to seem more nonchalant by unbuckling himself and moving to the couch that barely fits in the back of the van. Eddie follows, sitting closer than necessary to eat the burger Steve hands to him. "They were...talking about me. High school me. King Steve. And Jonathan told Argyle to be wary of me. Do they really think I'm the same person?"

"Stevie-"

Steve doesn't let Eddie get far. He's too wrapped up in what happened, too consumed by self-doubt and guilt and the wish that he'd said something to them. His chest feels tight, he feels like the world is going to cave in on him, and the only thing keeping him steady is the way Eddie puts down his burger and pulls Steve into his lap. "And the worst part is that they were laughing. Will tried saying that I was better now, and they fucking laughed. Like it was ridiculous. Like I could never change.

"And I just....I wish I'd said something. I could have ruined their night so fucking easily, Eds. I could have turned around and asked if they always talked shit behind the backs of people who saved them. I could have asked if Jonathan didn't like the replacement camera I got him, or if he still used it to sneak photos of Nancy."

"Is that why you broke his camera? Fuck, I don't blame you."

Steve manages a slight smile for Eddie. "Thanks. I...I don't know. For all I've changed, it would have been so easy to just turn around and be who they thought I still was. And then I would've torn them down to the size of ants. And...and...I wish I had but I don't but I do, so I could've ended it with who's laughing now?"

Steve's chest feels a little looser, and that's a fucking relief, but then he feels Eddie's hand cradling his cheek. "Well, it's definitely not you, sweetheart. Your crying."

Oh. Eddie is right. He is crying. Steve hastily wipes at the tears before just giving up and leaning into Eddie's touch. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't apologize. I almost wish you had done it. And that I'd been there to see it."

"No, you don’t."

Eddie grins, pulling Steve closer so they're chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart. "Yeah, I do. I love when you get bitchy, sweetheart. Especially when it means we can be bitchy together."

Steve blinks, and he can't help laughing. The words were simple, but they still managed to erase all the doubt and some of the hurt. He still probably needs a few days before he can actually look at Jonathan or Nancy or Mike again, but he doesn't feel so immediately devastated.

"Somehow, that was the perfect thing to say," he tells Eddie, closing the distance between them to kiss his lips, getting a hint of ketchup on his tongue.

"Perfect enough to earn me some fun?" Eddie asks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Steve sighs dramatically, pretends to think about it as he actually laments that their burgers will get cold, and then pushes Eddie down on the couch.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington angst #steddie fluff #established steddie #prompt list #my writing #i hope you like it anon!

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incorrectbatfam · 2 years ago

Note

Batfam’s Father’s Day plans

(also on Ao3)

"Morning, Bruce."

The way Stephanie says that instantly makes him look up. She traces her socked toe on the right angles of the tile, looking down.

"Morning, Steph." Bruce puts his coffee down. "Something wrong?"

"Huh?" She perks up in realization. "No, not at all. I actually just have something for you. I stopped by Walgreens on patrol last night 'cause I ran out of antiseptic, and I saw something that reminded me of you."

She hands him a dark blue greeting card with a cartoon fruit bat and Comic Sans text reading: You drive me batty, but I love you.

"Get it? 'Cause it's a bat, and you're the Batman." She scratches the back of her neck. "Not trying to make it weird or anything, you're just a cool mentor and whatnot. But also, it's nice to have someone who you can mess around with. My old man was always talking business even when he was at home—you kinda do that too, but in a good way 'cause anything's better than being a D-list villain, y'know. Plus, unlike him, you're working on striking a balance. Sometimes you even have a sense of humor." She chuckles awkwardly. "Anyway, I'm going on a jog. Text me if you need anything."

Before he processes her rambling, she grabs a granola bar and races out the door. He opens the card and out falls out a handful of purple confetti plus an ever-rare two-dollar bill. Smiling, he brushes the confetti up and puts it in his shirt pocket.

Bruce checks his watch. Everyone else is already out, except for Cass. She was out late last night on that Clayface mission, but even she should be up by this time. He fixes her a bowl of cereal with the package instructions and brings it upstairs.

"Cass?" He knocks. "Are you up yet? It's past 9:30."

He hears the duvet crunch like a candy wrapper as she shuffles around. A moment later, the door swings open as a messy-haired Cass yawns.

"I'll leave this up here for you," he says, putting the bowl on the dresser. "Any big plans today?"

She shakes her head. "Write reports. And relax."

"Well, you deserve a break. Great job on the stakeout, Princess." He plants a quick kiss on her forehead.

"Love," she says.

"Huh?"

"Favorite thing you do. Love."

He laughs softly. "I try. Now go get dressed."

The rest of the day goes by like any other. Despite it being Sunday, he still has a meeting scheduled with some Singaporean investors on their timezone. By eleven, he and some other executives are gathered around the long conference table as the video call drones on, and it's not until over an hour later that they're finally let out. Bruce loosens his tie and Tim does the same, sighing in relief and exhaustion.

Bruce asks, "Did you have lunch yet?"

"Oh, I forgot that's a thing," Tim says, stretching. "Hey, remember that ice cream place on 32nd?"

"You want ice cream for lunch?"

"I'd break your no killing rule for their M&M cookie sundae, okay?" he says. "Besides, remember when you took my friends and I there even though we massively bombed our first off-world fight? I might still be a massive perfectionist but that made me get a little more comfortable with failing. Anyway, I thought it'd be cool to stroll down memory lane—and have junk food as a meal without Alfred knowing. Unless you're busy, which I totally get."

"Not at all," Bruce replies, putting an arm around Tim's shoulders. "Duke and Damian will be at the arcade all day and I don't have any urgent side business."

And so, instead of calling Alfred for a ride, they journey through the Gotham subways with Tim's camera capturing the Grammy-worthy saga of a billionaire CEO battling a common turnstyle. They get a few side-glances in the sparse train car, but besides a teenager asking for Tim's autograph, the civilians leave them alone. Pretty soon, they're at a 1950s-themed ice cream parlor, where the waitress slides their orders down the long chromium bar.

"Why do they call it a banana split?" Bruce asks, grabbing the cocoa powder shaker.

Tim pauses mid-bite of his cookie. "...Because they split the banana in half?"

"Really?"

He moves the whipped cream aside to reveal the cut banana in Bruce's dish.

"How would it sound if I said I never noticed that?"

He smirks. "That's why I'm the brains of this operation."

"Indeed you are." Bruce ruffles his hair. "Though this head of yours could use some shampoo."

"Will saying I love you get me a free pass out of it?"

"No." He laughs. "But I love you too, son."

Alfred catches on to their little dessert escapade and picks them up from the parlor, though not without commenting on the strawberry stain on Bruce's jacket. As Tim plugs his music into the car, Bruce takes the time to listen to the voicemails he got during their lunch break.

"Hiya Bruce," Clark's voice plays. "I hope today's going swell for you. I just want you to know that I'm glad I can call you my pard'ner." Bruce snickers at the country twang.

Next is Diana. "Bruce, I apologize if I must keep this brief since I have a curator's convention today. However, I wish to tell you that you are an invaluable teammate and even more remarkable friend."

"Hey Batman, I gave you a shoutout to the Central City press for your help taking down Weather Wizard," Barry says. "Also, thanks for letting me borrow your communicator. I can always count on you to be overprepared. Have a good one!"

"Bats, tell your kid to quit taking my yogurt from the fridge." Ah, good old Hal. "Also, today's all about guys like you, so... yeah. I admit, you could be worse."

Finally, there's one from Zatanna. "Afternoon, Bruce! I'd tell you in person if I wasn't caught up in Kahndaq, but I hope today is extra special for you. I know how much the birds mean to you, and I know they're gonna treat you well."

(There's also one from Ollie, but he's just asking if he can use the communicator after Barry. In the background, Dinah is is clearly ordering food.)

After dropping Tim and Alfred home and switching to a more discreet vehicle, Bruce makes his way to pick two of his other kids up from the arcade.

"Did you guys have fun?" Bruce asks as they climb in.

"We decimated every game," Damian says, "and won you the finest specimen as a trophy."

He plops a five-foot Snorlax into the front seat and buckles the seatbelt.

"This is for me?" Bruce asks.

"Tt, who else would it be for?"

"I didn't win as many tickets," Duke says, "but I also got you a spider ring and a Chinese finger trap." He puts them in the cupholder.

"Why are you giving me all your prizes?"

"Again, who else would we give them to?" Damian asks.

Duke says, "I think what he means is that you do a lot for us, so this is a thanks from us."

As silly as it might seem, Bruce is genuinely touched.

Pre-patrol dinner is a quiet affair, with Kate stopping by because she apparently forgot to go grocery shopping. She takes a fingerling potato off his plate.

"Um, you're welcome?" he says.

"Bruce, we're family. It's what we do." She takes a bite.

He takes a piece of asparagus from her. "I wish all of us were here, though. Too bad Dick and Jason have that Penguin stakeout. Hopefully they're being safe."

"Even if things go wrong, they were taught by the best. You should trust them more." Selina gets up and places a peck on his cheek before going to get a drink.

"I do," he mumbles into his meal. "It's the world I don't trust."

As he puts on his cowl, he asks Barbara for an update on the evening. So far, Duke is handling a carjacking, the girls are preoccupied with a strip mall hostage situation, Damian is patrolling Metropolis with Jon, and Kate is kicking off her shift with a car chase against Two-Face. Tim and Selina are staying back to catch up on some overdue reports, but other than that, the cave is quiet.

"Before you go," Barbara says, "my dad was cleaning out the attic and found something you might like."

From her bag, she pulls out a blue mug that says: World's Okayest Dad.

"My brother got it for him a long time ago, but... you know. It's all yours now, if you want it."

He takes it, running his thumb along the words.

"It suits you," she says before turning back to relay something to Stephanie.

The route laid out for him tonight gives him the perfect opportunity to swing by and check on two of his boys. He lands on the rooftop silently, where Nightwing and Red Hood have already set up camp. Evidently, they don't notice him as they keep going with their conversation.

"Did you get dropped on your head as a baby?" Jason asks. "Sour cream and Greek yogurt are not the same thing."

"They totally are, change my mind." Dick glances through his binoculars. "No sign of Cobblepot yet."

A moment goes by as Jason not-so-covertly steals some of his brother's patrol snacks.

"So how'd family therapy go yesterday?" Jason asks. "Did the old bat finally show an emotion?"

"It was pretty insightful, at least on my part." Dick lowers his binoculars. "I think I realized where Bruce's persistence comes from. It's annoying as hell, but I think that's how he maintains hope. And who knows, maybe it's his love language."

Jason scoffs.

"I'm serious," he says. "I know none of us are stellar at this family thing, but we care about each other. You can't deny that. We just gotta... refine how we express it."

"Count me out."

"Jaybird."

"Codenames, Dickhead."

Dick snickers. "You love us, admit it. All of us."

Jason mutters a string of curses under his breath before saying, "If you tell him, I'm filling your mattress with sour cream."

Bruce smiles and leaps to the next building.

At the end of the night, Bruce finds Alfred brewing tea in the kitchen and takes the kettle from him.

"I got this," he says. "Why don't you go relax in the living room? I think they added your favorite detective movie to Netflix."

"This is a pleasant surprise." Alfred raises an eyebrow. "What brought it on?"

"It's Father's Day, of course," he replies, pouring the cups of tea. "You know you've always been a second dad to me."

"You made that clear with last year's breakfast surprise," Alfred says. "Care to join me?"

"Always," Bruce says. "By the way, do the kids seem different to you today?"

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traveler-at-heart · 2 years ago

Text

Shopping

Summary: Natasha hates shopping, but an incident might change her mind.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Who knew saving the world was so much work.

Specifically, paperwork.

Thor, unfamiliar with Earth’s customs and the bureaucracy of any organization, always had trouble filing his reports. You volunteered to spare him of endless hours sitting in front of a computer and to save Steve the frustration of trying to figure what the god meant when he wrote things like “the screams of our victims can be heard from Hell”

Only, you had been at it for almost three hours now. You stretch, feeling your back muscles strained.

Time for a snack break.

Which you were doing, eating cereal and browsing through some emails. There’s a sale at your favorite store. Maybe, if you find the right outfit, you’ll agree to that blind date Tony’s been nagging you about.

The day seems to be getting better, until Sam rushes past you, mumbling.

“Run, hide, anything”

“What?” you say, mouth full of cereal. He’s already gone. Five seconds later, Natasha storms in. “Oh, hey, Nat”

She glares and you gulp down the rest of your food. Against your better judgment, you smile again and ask her if she wants to go shopping. You can’t stop talking, she makes you that nervous.

“I hate shopping”

You already know it and she tells you for good measure, before rolling her eyes and leaving the kitchen.

Right.

“Bucky, she’s alive,” Sam whispers as you walk back to your room.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She was pissed. Had an argument with Tony” Bucky barely opens his door.

“They always do”

“Romanoff looked ready to kill him”

“She always does. And why are you hiding behind the door?” you look at Bucky.

“He ate all of Romanoff’s angry cookies” Sam replies.

“Terrible timing”

“Yeah” Bucky sighs, peaking around to see if Natasha is coming to kick his ass. Frankly, you wouldn’t stop her.

“Well, if you’re done gossiping, I have a shower to take”

“Where you going?”

“Shopping” you immediately shut down Sam’s curious tone. These boys are so nosy.

“Can I come?”

“Absolutely not. You always flirt with the girls and I can never get them to help me out”

“Oh, come on”

“Knock it off or I’m telling Nat you ate those cookies”

“No!” he sprints down to his room, while Bucky shuts the door so fast, you swear the wood cracks.

Ugh, it’s like living with teenagers. Thankfully, you have a plan. As you suspect, Natasha is going around the kitchen cabinets, mumbling something about “killing Barnes”

“Hey” you don’t expect her to respond or turn around, so you just place the package on the counter. “I know those man babies eat everything on sight, so I always have some saved in my room. Your favorites”

Natasha stops her movements, but still won’t turn around.

“Thanks” she finally says as you walk back to your room.

You wish it was enough to make her feel better. You also wish she trusted you enough to vent about what it is she’s so upset about.

But with Natasha, there’s always been a wall. You don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, because you find her so attractive, endearing and even cute.

If you get close, then you’re sure it’s going to evolve from slight crush to full time pining.

That can’t happen.

These thoughts take up most of your shower time and as you get ready to leave, you only turn around once to check your hair.

There’s a surprise waiting for you at the garage. Someone sitting on the driver’s seat of your car.

Natasha looks up and smirks.

“I don’t let anyone else drive”

“Mind you, I’m more worried about how you broke into my car without the alarm blaring” you tsk as she takes the keys from your hand.

She shrugs her shoulders and to your surprise, guesses which mall you’re heading to.

“I notice things too”

“You’re talking about those cookies?”

“I guess”

“Well, you’re always welcome to get them from my room. Secret cabinet behind the mirror”

“Nice”

You chuckle and she actually looks like her mood is improving.

And you… you are approaching the pining stage at an alarming rate.

“So, what are you looking for?” she asks when you finally get to your favorite clothing store. Natasha looks completely out of place between the lighting and the bland pop music playing in the background.

When she turns around, she finds you putting some lingerie sets over your clothed body, evaluating the shape and color.

She’s thankful you’re too focused on your own reflection to catch her blushing madly. Now is not the best time to picture you wearing one of those sets.

“Oh, maybe something to go on a date” you reply, choosing the black lingerie.

That answer is enough to put her in a bad mood again.

After a few minutes looking around, you sense that she’s starting to get impatient. Natasha shrugs her shoulders at every dress you show her. You might as well be holding a hot dog suit to get her approval.

“Alright, I’m going to the dressing room. Hold this” you give her your purse, to guarantee she won’t flee the minute you close the door.

“Don’t be long” she mumbles when you’ve barely taken your top off. Without thinking much about it, you peak through the door and smile mischievously.

“Relax. If you’re a good girl I’ll get you something nice”

The redhead blushes furiously as you close the door again. You think it’s pointless to show her the dress, thinking she’ll just shrug and make a non committal hum.

You’re on dress number three and think it’s the best one yet.

“Shit” your smile is quickly replaced by a frown when you realize the zipper on the back is stuck. “Nat” you call frantically for her.

“What?”

“I’m stuck”

“What…?”

“Come here” you jump out of the dressing room and pull her inside, shutting the door behind you. “The zipper. Can you pull it down?”

“Y-yes”

“Ok, go” you move your wavy hair out of the way, expecting it to be over with one swift motion.

But Natasha’s touch is surprisingly soft and delicate. You feel her breath close to your neck. Fuck.

“Fuck” Natasha says and you snap back.

“What is it?”

“It’s really stuck” she sits on the little chair at the corner of the room and pulls you along. As she keeps trying to undo the zipper, your body gives in, sitting almost on her lap, your back to her front.

“Almost… there” she grunts, pulling so hard that you end up actually sitting on her lap, squealing at the force of her movements. “Sorry, sorry, I got you”

“I thought I was gonna die” you sigh, not moving away from arms that are circling your waist.

“Trained spy is scared of a little fabric?”

“Jerk” you stand up, but the dress is halfway down, limiting your movements. It falls completely to the ground, you stumble and turn, landing once again on Natasha’s lap, this time face to face.

Or rather… Breasts to face. She has her entire face on your lingerie clad breasts.

“Jesus, Nat, I’m sooo sorry…” your apology dies down when you feel strong arms pulling you closer. You look down and find emerald eyes, pupils dilated with lust and lips parted, waiting for permission to move forward.

There’s not much else to think about, so you place your hands on either side of her face and kiss her, desperate and fast. Natasha moans against your mouth, moving down to your neck and sucking until she leaves a mark. Her expert fingers are trying to unclasp your bra when...

“Everything ok in there?” a store clerk asks. You break apart, feeling frustrated and very much turned on.

“Yeah, I’m almost done here!” you shout, a little too out of breath.

“I think your friend left. She really hates shopping, huh?”

“Oh, I think I’ve managed to change her mind” you wink at Natasha before putting your clothes back on.

“Stop” Natasha says as you head back to the Compound, one hand on the wheel and the other hovering above your leg.

“I’m not…!”

“You’re staring”

“You’re a really good kisser”

The redhead blushes and you think you’re in love.

No turning back now.

“So… when’s your date?”

“I don’t know, when are you free?”

“But I thought...”

“Tony was insisting on setting me up. That was before I knew my not-so-secret crush wanted to have her way with me in a dressing room”

For the first time ever, Natasha is speechless and you laugh.

“So how about tomorrow?” she finally asks as she parks your car.

“That works for me” you walk side by side and then smile. “See? Aren’t you glad you went shopping with me today? You got to pick the clothes you’ll rip off of me”

Natasha stops walking, and she’s actually considering just taking you up to her room right now.

“Tomorrow” you promise, smiling as you peck her lips.

“Hey”

“Yes, Sam?” you still have a silly smile, walking back to your room.

“I just saw Natasha and she smiled at me. Do you think she’s ok?”

“Yes, Sam” you roll your eyes, but he keeps staring. “What?”

“What’s that thing on your neck?”

Fuck. You slap your hand over the hickey and rush to your room.

“None of your business”

“As long as you keep her happy!”

“Shut up, Wilson”

#Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n

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lucy90712 · 2 months ago

Note

Hello I love your stories so my question is if you maybe could write something about reader being Mason mounts sister and she starts dating Ruben Dias and her does not approve at first but in the end it’s all fluff and he approves could you maybe make it long?

When I got the train up from London to Manchester I expected to actually spend some time with Mason and see the area and what it's like for him up here now that he plays for Manchester United but that hasn't happened. My first day here Mason brought me to training with him so I could see the training ground and meet his new teammates but since he's just left me alone everyday. I didn't come here to just sit around in Mason's apartment so I've decided that today I'm going to explore Manchester. I know where I want to go and I know how to get there so I'll be fine but I haven't told Mason where I'm going as he will kill me but I'm my own woman and I'm more than capable of exploring on my own.

The first thing I went to was an art museum then I went to the cathedral and by the time I'd done that I was definitely hungry so I made my way more towards the centre of Manchester where I found a lovely looking cafe that sold sandwiches. As I was walking towards the door someone else walked in front of me accidentally opening the door into me. As soon as the person turned around I recognised them straight away it was Ruben Dias. I've met Ruben before and I've spoken to him when Chelsea have played Man City but I didn't expect him to recognise me as I'm not exactly very recognisable but once he saw my face it all seemed to click in his head.

"I'm so sorry" he apologised

"It's ok I'm fine don't worry about it" I said

"You're Mason's sister y/n right?" He asked

"Yeah I am I'm surprised you recognised me" I said

"I'm good with faces plus we've met a few times before" he said

"Can I buy you a coffee or something?" He asked

"It's ok you don't have to do that" I said

"Well I want to so let's go" he said

I wasn't going to argue anymore instead I let him hold the door open for me and then I let him pay for my sandwich and coffee I did try and offer to give him some money but he refused my offer. We sat with each other and got to talking about Mason's move and how Ruben's season is going before we started actually getting to know each other better. I always knew Ruben was a nice guy but getting to talk to him properly made me realise that there's a lot more to him than just being a football player. He's a very interesting person but he also wanted to hear about me and my life even though there is nothing interesting to tell he still listened and asked questions.

When Ruben found out I was going on my own tour of Manchester he offered to show me around the city. Walking round Manchester with Ruben is something Mason would hate more than me walking round on my own but I like Ruben so I agreed with no hesitation. We had fun he took me to all the secret spots and showed me the best restaurants and helped me make a list so that whenever I come back I know where to go. We had a lot of fun talking and laughing as we walked around the streets occasionally hiding in side streets so Ruben could avoid large crowds so he wouldn't get recognised. I felt like a teenager sneaking around with a boy while I was supposed to be doing homework but that made it even more fun.

We stayed out until I got a text from Mason asking where I was and I realised that a few hours had gone by already. Ruben said he'd walk back with me as he doesn't live far from Mason so we walked together still talking and laughing like we'd known each other for years. We stopped a couple of houses down from Mason's so he wouldn't see us together.

"So this is me" I said

"Today has been fun I know this might seem too much but whenever you're back here I'd like to take you to some of those restaurants you know as a friend because it's more fun to go with someone than on your own" Ruben said

"That sounds great if you give me your number I'll text you every time I'm here" I said

"Pass me your phone" he said

I did as he told me to and he added his number to my contacts before we said goodbye and I ran off to get told off by my brother. Mason was waiting for me by the door with an angry look on his face like I'm not 23 and can't fend for myself.

"Where have you been?" He asked

"I've been exploring Manchester I was bored of sitting here all day on my own and I'm more than capable of going out on my own I walk round London on my own everyday" I said,

"But you don't know the area you couldn't got lost someone could've taken advantage of you" he yelled

"Well I didn't did I come on Mason I'm fine I'm 23 not 13" I said

"You're right I just worry about you plus mum and dad will kill me if anything happens to you" he said

"Well I'm fine and if I wasn't it would be my fault not yours you have to let me live my life" I said

"Ok I'll let you live your life but if things go wrong just know I'll be there for you just know that I'll be there" he said

~~~~~~~~~~

6 months later

I've been back to Manchester a few times over the last few months and every time I've seen Ruben to start with it was just as friends but after the first two times I'd seen him he asked me if the next time I was there I'd like to make it a date. So the next time I came back we went on a date and I've never been happier it was the best date I've ever been on it wasn't with some guy I'd met through friends that I didn't really like or a guy I met out at a club it was with a nice guy that I actually like and that made it so much more enjoyable. Ruben also didn't think of me just as Mason's sister he saw me for the person I am and I was able to see him for who he is too and not just the football player. That one date turned into multiple and now I'm going back to Manchester for our 5th date while Mason is away.

Mason still doesn't know that I even saw Ruben the first time I came to he definitely doesn't know that we've been going on dates. Admittedly I should just tell him but I feel like I can't they have been rivals for years and now it's worse I can't exactly tell him I'm dating someone from his teams biggest rivals just like that. That's why no one other than Ruben knows I'm coming this weekend he's letting me stay with him and we are going to spend as much time together as we can without anyone else finding out and without me having to check in with my brother every few hours.

I got the train late Friday night after work and Ruben met me at the station to take me back to his place where had had dinner ready for us both and a movie for us to watch. We cuddled on the sofa and I felt truly at peace for the first time in a long time. For my whole life I've been dragged from place to place for Mason and his career and just had to deal with it my life has always been chaos and then just as I was getting used to London Mason had to go and leave. This time I resisted and stayed in London to finally love my own life but even that felt wrong but now I've realised I know what I want and it's peace and stability with someone who can give me that and that person is Ruben.

Last night Ruben carried me to his bed and we fell asleep cuddling but this morning when I woke up he wasn't laying next to me and I started to think I'd done something to mess this up but before I could really panic Ruben came back with breakfast.

"Good morning I hope you like pancakes I made plenty" he said

"Thank you you didn't have to do this" I said

"Well I wanted to its not everyday that I have such a pretty girl in my bed" he teased

"I bet there's been quite a few pretty girls in your bed over the years" I joked

"Not for a long time and hopefully you'll be the only pretty girl in my bed from now on" he said

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" I asked

"If you'll say yes then yeah I am" I said

"I will definitely say yes" I said

"Then here's your breakfast my beautiful girlfriend" he smiled

~~~~~~~~~~

6 months later

Since making things official with Ruben a lot has changed my company offered me a place in their Manchester office knowing that Mason had moved there but he wasn't the reason I accepted that was Ruben. Hiding our relationship has been a lot more difficult since I moved here but being able to spend more time together has been nice. I have also been to a few of Ruben's games as long they don't clash with Mason's although I have to be careful not to be seen. Ruben has asked me why I don't just tell Mason so I had to tell him about the time I went on a date with one of his Chelsea teammates and he nearly killed me and he didn't speak to me for two months and that was just a date let alone a relationship. Ruben understood after that and told me that when I'm ready he'll be there to tell Mason with me.

We've been good at keeping this a secret for now but today is going to be a challenge as it's Manchester derby day. The match is at the Etihad but Mason still wanted me to come so I'm going to support him but secretly I'll be supporting Ruben too. Usually I'd wear Mason's shirt to matches but I can't bring myself to wear his shirt today as I'm not just supporting Mason and I don't necessarily want Man Utd to win so I'm going as a neutral that way I can't get in trouble with my boyfriend or my brother.

The match started and I was feeling more nervous that I usually am I don't even know if the nerves were for Ruben or for Mason but either way I was shaking like a leaf. As it turns out I didn't really need to worry Man City won but Mason played well so it was best case scenario really sure Mason won't be thrilled but at least he had a good game. I stayed in the stands until the players were walking off and most people had left before heading out to go and find Mason. Before I could find him I saw Ruben who smiled at me and grabbed my hand to lead me around a corner so we could have a moment together without everyone seeing.

"Congrats on the win you were great out there" I said as he slid his arms around my waist

"Got to make my girlfriend proud even when she's cheering for the wrong team" he smiled

"Well you did a good job of that I think you deserve a reward" I said

"I like the sound of that" he said

Ruben leaned in and kissed me while I pushed myself up onto my tiptoes so that I could deepen the kiss.

"What the fuck" I heard someone yell so Ruben and I pull apart to see Mason stood just a few feet away

"Mason" I started to say

"No don't say anything what the fuck are you doing we just lost and you run off and kiss someone on the other team how could you" Mason yelled

"Wait I can explain" I said

"Explain what the fact that your fucking someone from our biggest rivals there not much to explain" he said

"No it's not just that" I said

"Just shut up I don't want to hear it" he said trying to walk away

This isn't how I wanted Mason to find out but it is exactly the reaction I expected I knew he'd be mad and overreact. As much as his reaction was expected it still hurt and I couldn't stop the tears falling from my eyes at a rapid rate. Ruben grabbed my hand again and we ran after Mason together but I don't see him wanting to listen to me and I don't know what more I can say.

"Mason please just listen to me" I said but he didn't listen

"Dude stop walking away from her she's your sister and she's trying to talk to you" Ruben said harshly

"And why should I listen to you" Mason snapped

"Because we're not just fucking we're together and we have been for a little while now I love your sister I'm not taking advantage of her I really do love her" Ruben admitted

"How long have you been together?" Mason asked

"6 months" Ruben said

"And you didn't tell me" Mason said clearly hurt

"I'm sorry for not telling you but I was scared what you would think but Ruben is an amazing boyfriend and I love him so whether you are ok with it or not I'm not leaving him as he makes me happy" I said

"If you're happy then I suppose I'll have to get used to it right now it hurts that you lied to me and hid this but I'll get used it it" he said

I hugged him tightly thanking him for understanding and then I let him go and hugged Ruben instead glad that this whole thing is over and now we can celebrate together knowing we don't have to hide this anymore.

#ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias #football imagine

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thevioletscout · 1 month ago

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Got to see Sonic 3 early at a fan event! If you saw a brunette white girl in a black and white striped jacket who had keychains on her cat backpack of a dark chao and knockoff Shadow, that was probably me.

Gonna share my thoughts because I need to. Spoilers under the cut.

- I personally still like 2 the most. That doesn't mean 3's bad, it was great, but 2 just felt like a stronger film.

- I was honestly pretty wary about Keanu Reeves as Shadow, but I think he did excellent, and for a very peculiar reason that surprised myself; At certain points, he sounds like a teenager. Obviously its the kind of gruff Shadow voice we’re all used to, but there were times he would sound strangely youthful, and its a nice reminder that despite the 50 year stasis, despite the ultimate lifeform thing- Shadow's still a kid, just like Team Sonic.

- My brother even pointed out that Commander Walter objected to shooting the Robotniks and Shadow when they were escaping because "they're kids!" He said kids, plural.

- I think Jim Carrey did great as both Eggman and Gerald Robotnik. There was even a scene near the end where he was downright scary as the latter. That said, I wasn't a big fan of many of the scenes where they interacted. It kinda felt like the plot of the movie would get pulled to a grinding halt so we could just watch extended Jim Carrey comedy. I could probably be in the minority about this, and I can accept that, I just personally think cutting out some of the bits would have helped the movie flow a bit better.

- Fight scenes were so cool. It's not usually something I’d care that much about, but I think with Sonic in general getting the action right is a huge draw, and damn did this get it right.

- I'm not a big fan of Maria's illness not being referenced at all. I can kinda understand it because they're on Earth the whole time now, not in space, but it removes a lot of the important factors of Maria's character. It especially feels bad in the wake of Sonic x Shadow Generations, where the effects of her condition were actually shown, and when compared to the Wicked movie adaptation where they actually went out of their way to do a more respectful depiction of a wheelchair user.

- I like her using rollerskates though. That feels like a cute parallel between her and Shadow, and that could have been an interesting detail Robotnik worked into Shadow's design if he was actually made by him in this version.

- Sidenote, I swore that the whole Shadow was found in a meteor thing was a coverup for the real story, but no thats just his origin in the movies. That definitely carries some interesting implications for Shadow in the SCU.

- They kinda cutely referenced Sonic and Shadow looking alike, but otherwise it didn’t affect anything. G.U.N. didn't even try to use that to frame Sonic for what Shadow was doing. I kinda don't mind that though, I think there's enough retroactive implications to draw from.

- I wasn't sure they would actually use Live & Learn, but they did and holy shit it was so worth it! And Sonic and Shadow did the Adventure 2 pose!!! Theater went nuts, and I was going nuts with them.

- I'm once again probably going to be in the minority about this, but I kinda wish we got more Tom and Maddie. Like it or not, they were major characters in the previous movies, but in this one they just feel like they're there. I would say that it probably would have made Tom's near death experience more impactful, but to be fair my entire theater was in shock and scared out of their minds that they actually killed him so I think it was plenty impactful.

- They just straight up yeeted Gerald into incineration. I get it, there was no other neat way to take him out but damn. Tails and Knuckles killed a man.

- And finally the mid-credits scene holy shit.

- Okay so- I want you guys to know that I was a "Amy's secretly in the movie" truther. Every time Team Sonic was in trouble I was waiting for Amy to suddenly make her debut. I had this vision of her hammer being the first thing we see before Amy herself is slowly revealed. And yet, nothing. Every time they would find a different way out and around the G.U.N. infiltration I finally accepted that Amy wasn't going to appear.

- But then that scene during the credits. Sonic is confronted by Metal Sonic- who looks FANTASTIC btw. That's when I knew we were probably getting Amy next, but I wasn't sure when and how. Then Sonic gets surrounded by several of the metal copies, and like I predicted; first we see her hammer, flying through the air as it takes out several of the bots. Then we see her, dressed in a cloak to hide her features just a bit longer. Finally, she puts the hood down and- GOD SHE'S SO CUTE, I LOVE HER.

- I cannot impress upon you how crazy everyone in the theater went. We love this pink hedgehog.

- Wade only had one scene thank fuck.

There were probably a few other misc things I can talk about but I need more time to process it all. As I said to someone sitting in front of me; "How am I supposed to wait another two years???"

EDIT: ONE MORE THOUGHT

- One thing I find interesting is that after Shadow escapes, he just wants to be left alone. Most of what he's doing when Team Sonic finds him is just self defense from G.U.N. If I remember correctly he even tries to tell Sonic and the others to just walk away, and he dips on the motorcycle as soon as he's able to, once again warning them not to follow. He even spares Sonic and simply handcuffs him to something when the fight's over. It seems like it isn't until Gerald finds him that the revenge plan even gets started for him. He didn't want to go out of his way to hurt anyone, he just wanted to grieve in peace. Unironically, such a good understanding of Shadow's character.

#Sonic Movie #Sonic 3 #SCU #Sonic Movie 3 Spoilers #Sonic 3 Spoilers #Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #my post

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lightningant · 2 months ago

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I've never seen characterizations of Tom and Harry the way yours is. I love how neurotic and messed up they both are -- they're *SO CUTE* too. <3 <3 <3

Tom is just so exhausted and cynical and Harry is a manic catastrophe with sooo many crossed wires and they're HILARIOUS. XD

And just so well written, I cannot tell you how distracted I was for at least a week after I read what you had for your fic -- I truly, truly admire your narration and dialogue and characterizations (I already said that but PLEASE I LOVE THEM SO **BAD** >O< ) Soooo funny and well made.

They're realistic! Tom and Harry are so messy and also normal people at the end of the day who make mistakes and aren't super cool all the time (really, they're utter dorks, and you TOTALLY show thatt) but also they're competent and scary and stubborn and you just have suchh a nice blend of their facets and I JUST....aghhh, I love itt.

Also I ADORE your designs -- I love how Tom is so sickly and neat (you said it best "Victorian child with tuberculosis" LMAO), and Harry is so IDK, he's just a Guy but in the most wonderful way -- I'm not actually good with words :,))))

I just love your art style in general, it's like, realistic yknow. You don't get rid of normal people "imperfections", they're a part of the design or enhance them -- I don't think the word imperfections is right, I just mean like, you don't exclude non-conventionally attractive aspects of bodies or facial expressions??? Idk, I'm trying here, I really am. Just, just, just I like it a lot and I wanna be like that toooooo >.<

IIIIIIII dunno if I have accurately gotten anything across or even given an actual good compliment in this entire thing but anyways you're very cool and awesome and also PLEASE forget that I said they were Babygirl I've never used that word before in my LIFEE and don't know if that was right at all -- if it was nevermind I meant it all and am so cool -- ANYWAYS bye :,)

I don't think I've succeeded in lessening my embarrassment but uhhhhh, I hope I've at least articulated myself better :,)))

Askbomb swag. Thank you, this message was so sweet :) I shall try to match energies.

One of the things I love most is that the kind of person who puts up pretensions is, innately, trying to hide something about themselves they find sub-par. Tom isn't just a scary and incredibly powerful domineering sigma male who is a master manipulator, he is a person who is actively attempting to turn himself into that man, and in my fic he is still a teenager and still tripping his way through that mental image he has of himself. The two worst ages to ever be are 15 and 20; fifteen, when you are ready to shed childhood but don't know what maturity looks like just yet, and 20, when you are ready to become your own person and achieve adulthood, picking your way across existence-defining beliefs. And his only friend for the past like, 7 months? has been his 16-year-old self who has the single-minded objective of looking cool and mature to his adult self. A hell of his own making.

Harry is also 20. He is one of those 'unusually mature for his age' kids and he has an inflated sense of his own righteousness and capability, despite being the actual one with the emotional range of a teaspoon (he just knows to keep it himself). There is no way Harry would detect he is having a manic fit, especially if he is having one that is triggered by his arrested feelings on Sirius. It's incredibly fun writing him perform this extremely risky and reality-altering plan and his plan was "idk, kill him?" and picking shit up off the ground whenever he sees it, the DADA position included. our hero.

Beautiful tragic terminally ill gothic prince / fit jock is really a match made in heaven aesthetically. Cannot get enough of it

Thank you for art compliment too ^_^ I used to lean more to anime fandoms so Harry Potter really let me stretch my legs on more 'normal people' facial features like big noses and soft chins and I'm glad it's clear how much fun I'm having doing that. Yay! Though one of the compliments I've always gotten that I've always been proud of is how distinct the way I draw expressions is.

No no...you're right. Tom is absolutely a babygirl. And Harry...well he was certainly Ginny's babygirl, and I'm sure a part of him is really itching to have someone put their hand on the small of his back 😔

#asks

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need-more-meta · 4 months ago

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I was very inspired by this wonderful prompt by wonderful @spnj2fanlw and I want to share a little teaser for what’s coming because I’m too excited and can’t keep it to myself.

Set in season 10.

You, My Curse (You, My Cure)

the mystic deliria, the madness amorous, the utter abandonment

Walt Whitman

Chapter 1

Dean Winchester hates witches, but boy does he love killing them.

“You couldn’t do it before she lunged for me?” Sam asks, looking down at himself, splattered head-to-toe with the exploded witch’s blood.

Dean gives him his ‘sorry-dude-I-don’t-care’ shrug, which is met with Sam’s ‘fuck-you-dude’ glare.

The important thing is the homicidal witch is dead; Sam’s neat freakishness is beyond the scope of Dean’s responsibilities.

“It’s in my fucking mouth,” Sam continues griping, like the teenage girl he is. He spits onto the floor, then sticks his tongue out and scrapes at it with his fingers.

“Dude, ew,” Dean says, which is usually Sam’s line, so it feels extra good to throw it back at him.

Sam’s glare moves into the ‘seriously-fuck-you-dude’ territory. It’s hilarious.

Not waiting for his brother to come back to the world of non-bitches, Dean looks around the room, which served as the witch’s office, filled to the brink with magical stuff.

“Should we—?” He makes a circle in the air with his finger, indicating the entire space.

Sam stops trying to pat the blood out of his clothes.

“Yeah,” he says, still sounding sour. “Let’s loot.” He walks toward the bookshelves stuffed with thick tomes, parchments, and other reading material. “I’ll take the books, you look into the artifacts.”

Dean nods and drifts toward the shelves overflowing with all kinds of exotic trinkets. He finds a couple of curious-looking knives that would complement his collection nicely. There are loads of animal bones, and Dean finds it slightly disturbing how easily he can identify them at this point in his life. He pockets some shiny stones with etchings that remind him of a language he’d seen in the bunker library. Sam might like those.

As Dean goes over the drawers of the witch’s desk, something catches his attention—a simple gold ring, wedged between the witch’s journals. He takes it, instantly mesmerized. There’s nothing in particular about the thing that makes Dean feel like it’s something valuable, but he can’t put it down.

He finds an inscription on the inside in what looks like Latin. The words ‘amore’ and ‘morte’ stand out, but the general message escapes Dean.

“Hey, nerd,” he calls and throws the ring across the room to Sam, who catches it in the air. “Can you read that?”

Sam peers at the ring. Dean feels uncomfortable without the thing in his hand, and he saunters toward Sam, while Sam translates.

“With love, comes death. With death, comes love,” Sam reads and gives the ring back to Dean, who feels better right away. “I think it’s a wedding ring.”

“Bit morbid for a wedding ring,” Dean says as he watches the light from the window catch on the gold.

An idea strikes him, brilliant as ever.

“Hey, Sammy?” He grabs Sam’s left hand and slides the ring on his fourth finger. “Say ‘I do.’”

Sam’s glare promises Dean a slow and painful death. Before he can make good on his unspoken threat, Dean feels something cold wrap itself around his own fourth finger. He lifts his left hand, and he and Sam both stare stupidly at the ring shining there, identical to the one Sam’s now wearing.

Dean grins.

“Guess we’re married now, little brother.”

“Is everything a joke to you?” Sam asks, ever a bitch.

“Yes,” Dean says brightly, satisfied when Sam’s entire face scrunches up in a grimace.

It takes Sam a few seconds to decide that he isn’t murdering Dean right now, which Dean already knew. Sam’s face shifts into a thoughtful frown as he considers the rings.

“Do you—feel any different?” he asks, poking at the ring on his hand.

“It’s the happiest day of my life.” Dean keeps the grin going.

Sam sighs and mutters something most likely unflattering.

There, it’s already a perfect marriage, as far as Dean’s concerned.

#wincest #samdean #wincest fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #meta writes

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wizzard890 · 2 years ago

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Hello! I'm someone who really enjoys makeup, but has recently in the past few years begun to view makeup and the makeup industry more broadly as something that is really detrimental to women. You seem to be in somewhat of the same position, and I admire your thoughts, so I was curious how you reconcile those positions or if you feel the need to reconcile them at all? Please ignore this ask if it's intrusive or weird lol

You can't reconcile them. You really can't. The beauty industry exists to churn out propaganda, inventing flaws and offering us fixes for a price, before moving on to the new (usually opposite, so you don't already have the tools) trend.

I'm in my thirties, I've seen the beauty industry turn into a nightmarish hydra that I never could have imagined as a teenager. The speed with which people create and zero in on new physical nitpicks, the ubiquity of filters and plastic surgery, that skincare (literally unless you have a specific ailment, a soft cleanser and nothing else will do you just fine) has become a lunatic self-flagellation in the name of some kind of nebulous Purity, just the endless chasing and chasing and chasing of that new thing that new miracle bottle, whatever will finally make you less disgusting for living in a human body. It's rancid. But it’s always been like this. Just slower.

And it's important to be intellectually honest about all this. The reason we think we look better with our lips a certain color, or our skin being a certain texture is because beauty culture has spent hundreds of years and trillions of dollars rotting our brains. None of this is real. You know that you find the people you love the most attractive when they're comfortable and bare faced and being themselves. Contour would change literally nothing about your feelings in that moment.

I enjoy makeup. I like gold eyeliner and deep berry lipsticks and a stain of blush. Why? Because I also have brain rot, and think I look Better with it on. You can't dismantle the entire wretched apparatus on your own, but you can be clear with yourself about why you believe what you believe. As my wife pointed out when I talked to her about this ask, even saying "I just like to decorate my face" doesn't hold water. You don't know what you natively like to do with your face, when it comes to beauty. You've spent your whole life marinating in propaganda. It gets into everything.

Due to my Ancient Years, I am no longer expected to be Young And Hot, which means I don't put on makeup on to run errands, and I don't feel like a full face is necessary to see friends or get dinner on a weeknight. I've started trying to treat makeup like I'd treat a pair of high heels: sometimes it's nice to feel dressed up, and in some environments heels are part of the dress code. Sometimes you wear heels to show your partner that you put in extra effort for them, or to make sure someone knows you took an occasion seriously.

Tellingly, heels also exist to fix a "failure" in your appearance.

It's like finding smoking sexy. Smoking kills you, unambiguously. And yet....it's hard not to feel like you'd be cooler if you had a cigarette in your hand. No one is immune to the manipulations of propaganda. But it is propaganda, plain and simple, and we shouldn't twist ourselves in knots to defend the lies it tells us, or try to make them ~praxis~. Beauty culture is exactly the same.

#yikes scoob!#it's rotten all the way down #(speaking of heels nothing makes me roll my eyes more than watching a movie where A Woman In Heels Does The Thing Like The Men)#(like oo wow she managed to be useful without losing her desirability!! yas queen)#and I wear heels!#I own many lipsticks!#I am not better than you #but you HAVE to be honest #you can't pretend there's a tension between good makeup (for me!) and bad beauty culture (for Others)#it's all for others #and surprise others is capitalism and the politics of desirability #makeup games #(lol I made that tag back when I was pretending at the aforementioned tension)

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kingmagnificoofrosas · 3 months ago

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I was thinking... A few years ago Disney made a loose adaptation of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and there was Judge Frollo, who was the main villain who burned the city and killed a lot of people. And now Disney has released Wish and is trying to convince me that Magnifico is really a "villain"... Considering that ALL Disney villains died due to their own carelessness, but Magnifico was simply locked away....What do you think about this? I think it's a strong contrast, although death does not befall the new "villains".

Hi @inanelemon

Well, it all leads back to the fact, that Magnifico simply isn't a villain. No matter how much disney and the anti-Magnifico's aim to claim he is. If the mind is stone set on something, one will find proof where there is none and twist facts to suit the own opinion/viewpoint.

Much in contrast to literally every single Magnifico defender out there, who isn't influenced by his physical beauty, but open mindedly and carefully examined the entire situation to come to a realistic conclution. And 90% (safe to say) understand the importance of the role that ptsd plays in his situation.

Magnifico feels so absurdly out of place in comparison to Frollo, Gaston, Scar etc. Because he is nowhere near the same. Yes, he went slightly beserk after the curse but that is exactly the point. The curse. The demonic entity that was clearly trapped in the book.

I mean, you really wanna tell me this is the same guy? The guy who build a place solely so people could be safe and sound from harm, because he lost everything as a child and would rather die and curse himself before seeing his past repeat and people die and get hurt?? That guy?

And suddenly that guy does a 180° goes against everything he ever stood for and is like "Worship me or I'll destroy and hurt ya'll"

🤨 Are you for real? Come on!

This 👇🏼 screams demon in every way possible to me!

The fact that Magnifico was blinded by his trauma caused anxiety, and because of it didn't always make the right decissions, or snapped more easily than a non traumatized person, is a whole seperate topic and has literally NO business in painting the guy a villain.

Now, a murderer who is psychologically sick/traumatized, is still a murder. If we go the hard reality route. However, Magnifico isn't a murder or a monster. Him wanting harm and destruction on others is the complete opposite of everything he is and stood for. - Even more proof that he was literally posessed by evil, cause it made him act in a way he never would have on his own. It contradicted him so painfully!

If we take a look at all the classic disney villains, even those with a twist (meaning those who only pretended to be nice) we always new from the beginning they were the bad guy. They are all driven by their evil goals, have 0 compassion, 0 remorse and would quite literally walk over dead bodies to get what they want. They do not care about anyone else but themselves. They do not worry for anyone else.

Those folks who go around saying, Magnifico is a power hungry narcissist who only cares for himself and only created Rosas and the wish system so he could control others to feed his sick evil desire to be in charge and swelter in power has for one not watched the movie right, has not understood a single thing, and or has such a narrowed mind that they did not even care for the details.

But yeah, believing an impulsive teenager is so much better ... 😐

So, when Magnifico carefully selects wishes to be granted with the motive to only do what's best and safe, he's an evil monster. But when Asha is in charge of the very same duty it's ok??

And yeah, that's what the end of the movie hinted at. Now she has magic and she now decides what wishes to grant or not grant.

So basically:

Magnifico "I decide-" BE GONE SATAN!

Asha "I decide-" 😍👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 YAAAS! SLAY GIRL!!! OUR PERFECT ANGEL!!!

Yeah, cause she is perfectly wise and capable as a 17 year old. And she is SO perfect and not at all flawed cause - hmmm plot armor?? 😑

It still blows my mind how haters will bend backwards to proof Magnifico is the most horrible despicable rotten monster disney has offered us in decades, throwing insults at us defenders and painting us horrible disgusting human beings for even doing as much as seeing him the good guy???

Now, is Mags a classic hero? No. Is he a classic villain? HECK NO! Is he a flawed, deeply traumatized protagonist who occationally made wrong decissions and mistakes but originally only meant well and is essentially a good guy? YES!

Magnifico is in all points a victim. He's suffered greatly in his past, experienced horrors no one should experience, tried his best to find a solution, always meant well but in the end fell victim to a grave mistake because of his scarred soul. That mistake was getting himself cursed and posessed.

#ask answered #magnifico defenders #king magnifico isn't a villain #team magnifico

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boyrobott · 1 month ago

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even you turned from me in disgust

the thing about living in a haunted house is this: horror always hits a little too close to home.

Read on AO3.

Astro really doesn't get the appeal of horror movies.

The way he sees it, he's already got plenty of bad guys trying to kill him day in and day out without worrying about a psychopathic child trying to suck out his soul in the middle of the night, or whatever's going on with those creepy little twin girls in the haunted hotel, and anyway, what kind of person actually wants to be scared? What kind of person likes gory bloodbaths where everybody dies at the end? What kind of person likes watching serial killers with garden knives for fingers, or possessed children spinning their heads around three hundred sixty degrees and spider-walking down a stairway, or a guy with a butcher knife and a mask murdering everyone he meets in increasingly awful and terrifying ways? What kind of person actually likes that sort of stuff?

…Well, apparently, Cora and Zane do, because they're going to have a whole marathon of horror movies the weekend before Halloween — and, for some reason, they've decided they want him there, too.

This presents a problem, because he really doesn't get the appeal of horror movies, remember, and something tells him several hours of them isn't going to magically change his mind, so he should just say he can't make it, come up with some plausible excuse or other, and forget all about it. But his work around the city has kept him so busy lately that he hasn't had a whole lot of free time to hang out with his friends for a while now, and he really misses them.

So he says yes.

Even though he seriously does not need to worry about some psychopathic child trying to suck out his soul in the middle of the night.

Surprisingly enough, it isn't actually that bad — or, at least, it's not that bad at first, as they settle in on the thick shag carpet in Cora's bedroom, with all the lights turned off (because Cora swears horror movies are way better in the dark), and the curtains pulled shut, and the TV screen glowing bright in the blackness, with a plastic bowl of buttery popcorn and enough fun-sized candy bars and cold sodas to put them all in sugar comas until New Year's.

…Although, to be honest, the first movie is a lot more depressing than he expected from something that's supposed to be scary.

"Why are they all so mean to Carrie?" he asks, more than once, with ever-increasing levels of distress, as the story unfolds. "I mean, she didn't even do anything wrong!"

Cora laughs, which immediately makes the whole bleak experience worth it, and tosses a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "I think maybe it's because she was really ugly in the book, or something? But that doesn't hold up here, 'cause, I mean, the actress is super-hot, obviously, so… yeah, I don't know. That TJ Porter doofus is always picking on you for no reason, isn't he? Some kids are just jerks, I guess."

Actually, Astro is pretty sure that TJ Porter is always picking on him because he's a robot, considering that's the primary focus of all his insults, but he's not about to bring that up. Last time he tried, Zane laughed and said you know he's just doing that 'cause he's jealous, right? and laughed even harder at the absolutely gobsmacked look on Astro's face as he tried to figure out why on earth anybody would ever be jealous of him.

"Oh, they're going to vote Carrie for prom queen?" he sits up a little straighter, before he remembers the teenagers on the screen pelted a sobbing girl with tampons for ten straight minutes, and laughed about it. "Wait, wait, hang on, why are they voting her in for prom queen, though? Are they trying to make up for what they did earlier, like Sue? That'd be a nice ending, I guess."

Zane sighs around a mouthful of Sour Patch Kids, and leans over to give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Oh, you sweet summer child."

Once they get through Carrie, they go through three more films — he finds out exactly what's up with those creepy little girls in the haunted hotel, for a start, which is something he could have happily lived the rest of his life not knowing, and there's another creepy little girl right after that ("I feel like maybe we need to keep a closer eye on Widget after all this," Astro says) except she turns out to not be a little girl at all, because she's secretly a grown-up adult woman who's just pretending to be a little girl, which is crazy, and there's a really old black-and-white movie, too, about a guy who dresses up like his late mother to stab people to death in his murder motel.

"That's it," Astro declares, as the credits roll across the screen. "I'm never showering again."

"Airtight solution, SuperBoy," Cora nods sagely, before she turns her attention back to the TV. "Let's do Frankenstein next."

Zane frowns. "That's the one where the crazy scientist brings a guy back from the dead, right?"

"Sort of?" Cora shrugs, hitting a button on the remote to pull up the film in question. "He doesn't really bring a guy back from the dead, though. He just… makes a new guy out of dead people, basically."

Astro can't hold back a grimace. "Great. Thanks so much for that imagery, you guys."

Zane shoves him. "Don't wimp out on us, man. You literally talked down a bomber, like, two weeks ago. This is nothing."

"The bomber wasn't a zombie!"

Everybody quiets down when the movie begins, and for a little while, it's okay — the camera sweeps over a wintry landscape ("I thought this was supposed to be a Halloween flick," Zane mutters when he sees the snow, but Cora shuts him up by tossing a fistful of popcorn at him) and zooms in dramatically on a sad-looking man on a ship, staring wistfully out over an ice-choked ocean — but after a couple minutes, it gets… kind of uncomfortable. It's not really that scary, or anything, not like those other ones they just watched, and it's not a bad movie, either, but it's—it's just—there's just this scene, where the monster comes to life in the scientist's lab, and—

"I had worked hard for nearly two years," the narration says, calm and composed in stark contrast to the man on the screen, who's crying out in horror, shaking his head frantically, backing away from the table as his newborn creature rises up, "for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this, I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardor that far exceeded moderation. But now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and a breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Oh! My hideous progeny! How I rue the moment you drew your first breath! How could anyone look upon you without revulsion? How could I ever have imagined my endeavor would produce anything of worth?"

Astro's stomach rolls over like he's going to throw up. He doesn't really know why, but there's something about this movie, or maybe just the man on the screen, that horrifies him more than any villain or criminal out on the streets ever could. My hideous progeny, he says. (a terrible mistake. just a machine. a failed experiment. a copy.) How could anyone look upon you without revulsion? he says. (I can't bear to see his face again.) How could I ever have imagined my endeavor would produce anything of worth? he says. (how did I think this could work?)

Astro blinks, shaking his head to try and shake off the sick feeling suddenly churning in his gut, and forces himself to refocus on the TV instead. It's only been a couple of hours since they started, after all, and he doesn't want to ruin his friends' night just because he doesn't like what they're watching. He got through all those other, much scarier, films just fine, so he's sure he can get through this one, too.

Except it just—it just keeps getting worse and worse and worse.

The monster has stitches all over his face from where Frankenstein sewed him together, and bolts coming out of his neck to hold his head on his shoulders. He looks different from everyone else — so different it scares them, so different it terrifies them, so different they scream at the sight of him, and send him away without ever giving him a chance, so different he can't fit in with anyone else no matter how hard he tries.

The monster is the only creature of his kind in the whole world.

The monster is all alone.

There is no one on earth like the monster. There is no one on earth who cares about the monster. Not even the man who made him.

Astro can't remember how to breathe, and his vision does this weird thing where it goes black at the edges like he's going to pass out, and it feels like maybe his heart is pounding faster than it usually does, which is a crazy thing for him to feel, because he doesn't even have a physical heart in the first place, and then he wonders if the monster has a physical heart and then he wonders if the monster has a name, or if that's another part of being human Frankenstein wouldn't let him have, and I can't bear to see his face again and how did I think this could work and I don't want you anymore—

He can't remember how to breathe. His hands are shaking, and his arms and legs are going numb, like all the blood is rushing from his limbs to flood into his chest instead, which is kind of crazy because he doesn't actually have any blood, and he wonders if the monster has blood and he wonders if the monster has bones and he wonders if any of that really matters when the monster has feelings, and that should be enough, and why isn't that enough? why isn't that enough for Frankenstein? why won't he just treat his creation like a person?

Zane says something, then, and Cora says something back, and they both laugh, but it's faint and faraway, like he's on the other side of the ocean, or maybe like he's in the ocean, drowning under the dark water. Cora shifts a little closer to him, her shoulder bumping lightly against his, and he can't remember how to breathe, and his hands are shaking and his arms and legs are going numb and he thinks, suddenly, about how Cora and Zane looked at him when they found out he was a robot — the horror and disgust in their eyes — and he realizes, with an awful jolt in the pit of his stomach, that the people in the cottage looked at the monster in the exact same way.

He thinks about how his dad looked at him, when he said you're not my son and I don't want you anymore, and he realizes, with a bigger and more awful jolt, that Frankenstein looked at his monster in the exact same way, hatred and revulsion and contempt written plainly in every line of his face, my hideous progeny a terrible mistake just a machine a failed experiment a copy not my son a robot how could anyone look upon you without revulsion I can't bear to see his face again how could I ever have imagined my endeavor would produce anything of worth how did I think this could work I don't want you anymore I don't want you anymore I don't want you anymore I don't want you I don't want you I don't want you I don't want you—

There's a ringing in his ears, a constant screeching wail, like tinnitus turned up to an eleven, and a terrible, crushing pressure in his chest that makes him wonder if maybe his heart is going to explode — except then he remembers he doesn't even have a heart, anyway, and maybe that's why it was so easy for Frankenstein to throw the monster away, because he knew the monster didn't have a heart, knew it wasn't human, and he can feel an awful pressure behind his eyes now, too, hot and heavy like a really bad headache. He hasn't felt this small since he lay down on a lab table and let his father kill him.

He wonders why Frankenstein couldn't just love the monster.

He wonders why he had to die just to get his dad to love him.

The pressure behind his eyes is getting worse, making the whole room look blurry and out of focus like a bad photograph, and it's stinging, and it's burning, and Astro—

—Astro starts to cry, so hard it actually kind of hurts, tears spilling down his cheeks and dripping off his chin and soaking into Cora's soft shag carpet. Loud, ugly sobs rip out of his throat before he can catch them, making his shoulders shake and shudder. Cora and Zane pause the movie and turn to stare at him, openmouthed and wide-eyed and wondering, and he thinks about how they looked at him when they found out he was a robot, and how the people in the cottage looked at the monster in the exact same way, and it just makes him cry even harder.

"A-Astro?" Cora says, finally, one hand hovering awkwardly above his shoulder like she can't decide whether she wants to touch him or not. "What's—What's wrong? What are you—?"

Astro tries to say I'm sorry, but there are so many things he's sorry for that it all kind of gets lost somewhere between his mind and his mouth, so he just sits there on Cora's carpet, sobbing and sniffling and scrubbing furiously at his eyes with the backs of his trembling hands to try and stem the endless flood of tears, and wondering if the monster can cry, or if that's another part of being human that Frankenstein wouldn't let him have. His arms and legs are going numb and his chest is aching and it feels like his heart is collapsing inside of him, a dying star buckling and bending under the weight of its own gravity and—

"W-Why didn't he want me?" he chokes out, his voice painfully small, and he wonders how many times the monster must've asked himself that same question, wonders if there was anything that the monster could have possibly done to make Frankenstein love him, and then he wonders how many times the monster must have wondered that, too. "Why didn't he want me? Why did he throw me away? Why did he make me just to throw me away? What's wrong with me?"

He wonders how many times the monster must've asked himself that same question, and he wonders how many times the monster must have lain awake at night in his dark and dirty hovel and waited waited waited for someone to love him, wonders how many times the monster must have called himself all the same horrible things his creator did, demon beast fiend villain hideous progeny a terrible mistake just a machine a failed experiment a copy not my son not my son not my son. He wonders if the monster's face is what his father sees whenever he looks at him — the waxy yellow-green corpse-skin stretched taut over rotted bones, the dull staring eyes, the terrifying towering stature, the shuffling limping gait, the bolts sticking out the sides of the neck, the lines of black X-shaped stitches threaded across the withered cheeks, the hunched slope of the deformed shoulders, the inherent wrongness of the whole shape — and then he wonders if maybe that's why his father said I can't bear to see his face again.

He wonders why his father had to make him like this.

He wonders why his father had to make him so different from everybody else.

He wonders why his father had to make him so difficult to love.

And then he wonders how many times the monster must have asked himself that same question, too.

"Tenma did that?" Cora says, at last, her blue eyes narrowed and her dark brow pulled down low in a scowl. "He did that to you?"

There's a cold fury in her tone, in her clenched teeth, in the tensed line of her jaw, and for a minute, Astro thinks it must be meant for him, that she must be mad at him — for ruining the movie, for crying all over her carpet, for making everything all about him, for whining about something that really isn't such a big deal after all, (and he knows that, he does, he knows he has no good reason to be acting like such a baby over this when his dad had it so much worse, because his dad lost his only son while he just got his feelings hurt, and he knows one of those things is not like the other, he knows that, and)—

—and then his brain finally catches up, and he realizes what she's actually saying, what she's actually mad about, and that's—that's almost worse, actually, because his dad doesn't deserve that. It's not like it's his fault that Astro couldn't be the son he wanted. It's not like it's his fault that Astro couldn't be a better Tobi. It's not like it's his fault Astro just isn't somebody other people can love without earning it first.

"H-He was going through a hard time when he made me," he quickly explains, so Cora and Zane won't get the wrong idea, so they know the truth, so they understand he's just overreacting like he always does. He has to make sure they understand that. He has to make sure they understand that his dad is a good person. He has to make sure they understand that his dad really was doing his best, and it's not his fault Astro couldn't be the son he wanted, not his fault Astro couldn't be a better Tobi, not his fault Astro just isn't somebody other people can love without earning it first, and if there's anyone who should take the blame in this whole messed-up situation, it's him, isn't it? It's his own fault he got thrown away like that, isn't it? Whose else could it be? "I—I mean, it was a really, really hard time for him. He was dealing with so much, and I was—I was just making it worse, I just kept making it worse, and he just—he just needed to get away from me for a while. You guys get that, right?"

The silence that comes after that is so heavy he thinks it's going to crush him. It's so heavy it's all he can hear. It's so heavy it presses in on him from all sides, so heavy he's scared to look at his friends just in case they're looking at him like those people in the cottage looked at the monster, so heavy he wonders if maybe he shouldn't have said that, so heavy he wonders if maybe he just made the kind of mistake he can't come back from, the kind of mistake that means their friendship is over, and they're going to send him away now like the people in the cottage sent the monster away—

"Jesus, Astro," Zane says, finally, breathless like somebody just came along and punched him in the stomach. "Jesus Christ, dude, that's… that's a lot. I-I don't even know where to start, man."

"Great, because I do," Cora jumps in all of a sudden, her voice knife-sharp and stone-hard. "Astro, it doesn't matter what your dad was going through when he made you. That's not an excuse. No, it is not," she adds, sharply, when he instinctively opens his mouth to argue with her. "And whatever made him decide to do that to you, it wasn't about you. It wasn't because you did anything wrong."

"But it was about me," Astro says, immediately — and so quiet, so serious, so honest, it takes him a second to realize he actually said it out loud instead of just thinking it. He's never needed to say it out loud before. Everyone else has always known it's true. "It was about me. If I had been better, he wouldn't have had to do that to me. If I had been better, he would've loved me right from the start."

"Is that," Cora asks, low and dangerous and so, so furious it seems to reverberate around the whole room, "what he told you?"

A tiny spark of—of something, too small for him to call anger but too big, and too close to fire, for him to call it anything else, flickers to sudden, diamond-bright life in his chest, and for the first time in their entire friendship, Astro meets her glare with one of his own, jaw clenching tight. "No, because he didn't have to tell me. It wasn't exactly rocket science! It only took a day for him to get sick of me! That kind of says something about a person, Cora, don't you think?"

There's a second of ringing silence right after he finally shuts his mouth, and he realizes he's standing up on his feet, glaring down at her — and she was scowling right back at him only a minute before, red in the face and madder than he'd ever seen her, but somewhere between one blink and the next, all her anger evaporated, and now she's gaping silently up at him with wide blue eyes, like he's just slapped her, or spit on her.

Astro has never raised his voice at her before. The guilt of it breaks over him like a wave of cold water, washing away the last, lingering spark of temper left in him. He wants to apologize, to say he didn't mean it, to promise he won't do it again, but he hasn't even opened his mouth before Cora pushes herself to her feet, too — though she doesn't look like she's gearing up for a fight, the way she did just a minute ago.

"No," she says, firmly. "It doesn't."

He's sure there must be some kind of context for that statement, but for the life of him, he can't figure out what it is. "W-What?"

"All that stuff your dad did to you," Cora says, her voice so strong and steady and sure he just can't help but listen to her. "You said it says something about a person, but it doesn't. It doesn't say anything about you. The things other people do to you, or say to you… that's on them, Astro. It doesn't matter who they are, or what they're going through, or if you think you could have done different, or been better, or whatever. It's still on them. They still decided to do what they did. You get that, don't you?"

Of course he gets that. Of course he knows people make their own choices, and they're responsible for their own actions, but… but his dad was going through a lot. And he was just making it worse. And his dad did need to get away from him for a little while. And it is hard for other people to be around him. And it hurt, obviously, of course it did, and it still hurts sometimes, when he lets himself think about it too long — like pressing on a bruise, or picking at a scab — but that doesn't make his dad a bad person, or a bad parent, the way Cora and Zane seem to think it does.

Besides, it's not like his dad was the only one who ever did anything like that, is it? Hamegg threw him away, too, once he found out he was a robot, Cora and Zane looked at him in the exact same way the people in the cottage looked at the monster, and sent him away like the people in the cottage sent the monster away, President Stone hunted him down like he was a criminal — and none of that makes them bad people. Hamegg was awful to his poor robots, of course, and there's no excuse for that, for the way he treated ZOG and the rest, but he still had some good in him, too, didn't he? He was always so kind to the other children in the orphanage, even if Astro wasn't one of them, and that… that says something about Astro, doesn't it? That says something about Astro, doesn't it, that he's the only kid Hamegg wasn't nice to? And Cora and Zane are the best friends he's ever had, and some of the best people he's ever met, so they're obviously not bad, either. And while President Stone wasn't exactly what he would call a good man, he commissioned the Peacekeeper specifically to keep the city safe from external threats. He might have been self-serving and power-hungry, and Astro isn't trying to say he wasn't, but he was never outright evil either, and he certainly wasn't the sort of person who'd attack an entire city full of innocent people over one single robot, not until Astro came along, and that says something about Astro, doesn't it? It says something about Astro, doesn't it, that his existence drove President Stone to the lengths it did?

It says something about Astro, doesn't it, that everyone he met in that first week of his life wanted to hurt him sooner or later?

"B-But," he says, trying his best to blink away another blinding tide of tears, but it doesn't work. "But what about Hamegg? And Stone? I—I mean… Stone went crazy just because I existed, a-and Hamegg was—"

Cora lets out a little sigh, soft and sad, and then, before he can say anything else, she reaches out and pulls him into a tight hug. "No, Astro, that wasn't your fault. None of that was your fault. I don't know why anyone would choose to do the kinds of things they did to you, because it was really, really messed up, and you deserve so much better, but I do know it wasn't your fault. You can't make somebody love you or not love you. You can't make somebody treat you one way or another. That's not up to you. They made their own decisions, and there isn't anything you could have done to change their minds."

"Yeah, man," Zane gets up from the floor, too, brushing a few stray popcorn kernels off the front of his sweatshirt, and comes over to join them. "There's no way you could have made that president guy any more whacked than he already was, trust me. And your dad…" he goes quiet for a second, shaking his head. "No offense, dude, but thinking you did something wrong is a pretty crazy to look at it. I mean, you don't think I made my parents ditch me, do you?"

"N-No," Astro says at once, even though he's pretty sure it's a joke. "Of course not. You were just a baby."

"Yeah," Zane says, very softly, putting a hand on Astro's shoulder. "So were you."

Oh.

Astro has never thought about it like that before.

Of course he knows that, technically, he was only a day old when his dad threw him away and President Stone tried to kill him, and seven days old when Hamegg put him in that arena. Of course he knows that, technically, he did fit the definition of baby back then, if only in the loosest sense of the term: still learning everything that other people already knew, brand-new to the world and clueless about all of it, stumbling blindly through his first steps and first breaths, and behaving purely on instinct instead of experience, because instinct was the only thing he knew. Of course he knows that. Of course he knows all of that.

But, for the first time in his life, he feels the faintest touch of sympathy for the small, young, scared-to-death, day-old boy he used to be. For the first time in his life, he tries to imagine hurting somebody as small and young as he was, in the ways his dad and Hamegg and Stone hurt him, and it makes him feel sick enough to throw up — and his dad and Hamegg and Stone were all even older then than he is right now. He can't imagine being a full-grown adult, and hurting somebody smaller than him like that. He can't imagine being a full-grown adult, and saying the kinds of things to a kid that his dad said to him.

"Oh," Astro says, out loud this time, because he's too dazed to come up with anything else — which is probably a good thing, because his throat pulls too tight to talk after that, anyway, and his eyes fill up with a fresh swell of stinging tears, and the tears spill over and pour down his cheeks.

Cora gently tugs him back into her arms again, and Zane keeps one hand on his shoulder while he cries, firm and warm and steady, and he doesn't know how long he stands there, clinging onto them like a lifeline as seven months of sadness floods out of him, but he knows they don't move an inch until he does, pulling away to scrub at his face and dry his still-damp eyes on his sleeve. His hands are still trembling, but not as bad as before, and his arms and legs aren't numb anymore, either. And he feels… lighter, almost. Like he's been carrying something very heavy for a very long time, and he's only just now put it down.

"I'm sorry," he says, finally — and a little shakily, too, but far calmer than he felt even ten minutes ago. "I—I'm really, really sorry about that. I didn't mean to r-ruin the movie. I just—"

"Astro," Cora cuts him off, so dead serious he immediately quiets down to hear her out. "If you seriously try and apologize right now, I'm actually going to hit you."

He's pretty sure that's an empty threat, but he doesn't particularly want to take his chances, either. He's seen what she can do with a wrench, after all.

"Also, you didn't ruin the movie," Zane jumps in, before the silence can settle over them too heavily, as he picks up the remote off the floor and clicks the television off with a pop. "That movie ruined itself. Man, that was like watching paint dry. Total snooze-fest. Let's do something fun instead." He pauses for a second. "You guys want to see how many jack-o-lanterns we can carve before your parents get home? Grace and I are still trying to break the world record, you know."

Astro knows exactly what Zane is trying to do — distract him from his feelings and steer him in an entirely different direction, pull him out of his own head and keep him out of his own head, keep him away from the hundred thousand conflicting thoughts and emotions and doubts still swirling around inside him like the world's worst tornado — but he plays along, anyway, because he doesn't want his friends to worry about him. And besides, a distraction sounds really, really nice right now. "What even is the world record, anyway?"

"Thirty thousand," Cora says, wearily, like she's heard the answer to this question way too many times before.

"And how many have you carved this year?"

Zane has to think about it for a minute. "…Twenty-two."

A small, startled laugh tumbles from Astro's mouth, a surprise even to him, and he pretends not to notice the quick, hopeful glance Cora and Zane exchange when he does. "Okay, yeah," he says. "Let's do it."

"Yes!" Zane punches the air over his head in a victorious fist-pump. "Come on, guys! Only twenty-nine thousand, nine hundred, and seventy-eight left to go!"

Cora groans.

#forgot to post this over here sooner so have it now ig #also this fic kinda sucks and i don't really like it but thats showbiz baby #astro boy #astro boy 2009 #tetsuwan atom #mighty atom #astro boy fanfiction #astro boy fanfic #astro boy fic #astro boy 2009 fanfiction #astro boy 2009 fanfic #astro boy 2009 fic #onward and queueward

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