#superhero characters have so much going on

[mantis-lizbian]

minor point, but i think i'd say the point isn't necessarily to "play a different game" but rather to be more honest with yourself about what a game's mechanics and themes are and aren't. you can defy those expectations still, but you're going to really struggle if you do so blindly, without taking into account how the game resists it.

to take it outside of the realm of D&D specifically, and use other games as a point of comparison, i recently ran a game in Masks: A New Generation set in the universe of Worm, a web novel by Wildbow.

Masks is a game about teenage superheroics and figueing out what kind of person you want to be. it has numerous mechanics and decision choices that work to highlight the tumultuous experience of being a teenager trying to find a sense of self and figure out how to deal with all the expectations and drives both within and without. around this central core, the mechanics regarding the superheroics are fairly "four-colour", that is. they're roughly on the level of your average late '90s to 2000s superhero cartoon like Teen Titans, Static Shock, the '90s Spider-Man TV series, or X-Men: Evolution. while these shows still have beating up bad guys and the occasional dark plotline, they don't really even come close to how dark the average shonen anime can get. vombat in Masks focuses more on emotional states than physical damage, and losing combat tends to mean letting the villain escape or fleeing yourself rather than even necessarily getting knocked out, let alone dying.

so using Masks to model the grim, often hyper-violent world of Worm is... tricky. when, in complete lieu of hit points, represents taking lumps in a fight by your character getting angry or hopeless, it takes a lot of work to model fights with characters who fight so viciously as to do things like... suffocate someone with a swarm of bugs, plant bombs inside people's necks, or just... being a giant nazi wolf made out of chains and blades. and that's not even mentioning the Slaughterhouse Nine which, uh... yeah, the people above? they're the average, everyday, street-level villains, so i'll just let you imagine what a gang of internationally recognized serial killers are like in this universe.

so yeah, very much a conflict between the rules system and the kind of game i wanted to run (and Worm very much isn't Worm without the extreme violence - i'd argue as a crucial part of its counterintuitively positive and optimistic thesis). but i saw a way in which Worm explored themes of identity and becoming that very much fit in with how Mask focuses on them, and so i chose to make it work anyway.

and it took a lot of effort, but i did manage to make it work without even rewriting or homebrewing any rules. the point is that you absolutely can tell a story that conflicts with the themes and mechanics of a game, but just like breaking rules of writing, you have to know and understand what you're doing with it and why in order to avoid simply highlighting that dissonance, or worse it actively disrupting things.

So there is a pretty clear shift in playstyle between TSR D&D and WotC D&D: for better and for worse, D&D 3e introduced the idea of encounter balance, de-emphasized mechanics that had previously encouraged the GM to think of the monsters as real living creatures (reaction rolls, morale, etc.), and it had the effect of making D&D a much more combat-focused game. D&D has always been a game that's opinionated about combat, it's basically the most expressive and detailed form of play regardless of edition, but combat in the TSR editions was not exactly zoomed in and tactical. The WotC editions purposefully made combat zoomed in, granular, and tactical.

And this has had an effect on playstyle: since combat is now the main form of player expression what players actually want is for their characters to get into combat. Because combat is the most fun part of the game. But the game has also changed from the largely amoral dungeon-crawling game into a game of fantasy heroics (even though a lot of the trappings of the amoral dungeon-crawling still remain, which contributes to the dissonance), so you can't just have the player characters going into combat for the sake of it. That would frame the player characters as kind of Fucked Up, and we can't have that in our supposedly heroic fantasy.

What you end up with is a variety of contrivances like "they're bandits," "they're cultists," or, my all-time favorite, "they attacked first" to make the action seem morally justifiable, even though gameplay is still motivated by a desire to fight. The monsters fight to the death and, importantly, can often not be reasoned and negotiated with, partly because combat is supposed to be the fun, engaging part everyone is here to do, but also because if they actually acted like reasonable people it could cause dissonance with the whole "the player characters are the goodest heroes."

As my friend @tenleaguesbeneath once called it: what is actually going on is that the player characters are hunting people and monsters who have been programmed to fight to the death and never negotiate for sport, while justifying it as self-defence.

It's a simple power fantasy, and I don't think there's anything wrong with it. Sometimes you want to play a morally uncomplicated game about killing guys with cool magic swords. But I think it's also fun to think about what the specific types of monsters players end up fighting reveals about Society the invisible, unexamined ideology lying under the surface that the designers of even modern D&D have failed to examine. And to me it often reads like a frontier justice fantasy. None of that is to detract from anyone's joy of the game, and for me it's just fun to think about and post about this stuff while Still Enjoying the Game, but if someone expressing that opinion makes you feel uncomfortable, why? That's pretty silly imo.

[sheree-says-stuff]

LONG LOST MCR INTERVIEW!!!! RARE!!!!! '06

Interviewer: *laughing* "Alright, welcome to this very candid interview with Frank Iero and Gerard Way. Guys, thank you for joining us today!"

**Frank Iero:** "Yeah, no problem! Always a pleasure to be here."

**Gerard Way:** *eyes glued to iPad screen* "Mm-hmm, sure." *quiet chuckle*

**Interviewer:** *glances at Gerard, then back to Frank* "So Frank, we hear you've developed a bit of an admiration for someone—or, um, something—called 'Hawk Tuah Girl'? Care to explain?"

**Frank Iero:** *grinning* "Oh, yeah, Hawk Tuah Girl. She's honestly been on my mind a lot lately. I know it sounds a little random, but there's something about her that's so... powerful, you know? She’s like, this unfiltered force of nature, just breaking through expectations and being unapologetically herself. I love that. I mean, we could all use a little more of that energy."

**Gerard Way:** *barely looking up from his iPad* "Yeah, but does Hawk Tuah Girl ever, like... flush toilets or something?" *snickers to himself*

**Interviewer:** *laughs nervously* "Uhh, Gerard, not exactly the direction I was thinking we were going in, but, Frank, back to Hawk Tuah Girl—what is it about her that stands out to you?"

**Frank Iero:** "Right, right. So, Hawk Tuah Girl, for me, she represents this kind of freedom—like, the freedom to just exist and be a little weird, without needing validation from anyone else. It’s a vibe. A vibe I’m very much here for. Like, if I was ever stuck in a bad place, I think I could look to her as a reminder that being yourself is enough."

**Gerard Way:** *snorts and glances over at Frank* "So, basically, she’s your spirit animal now?"

**Frank Iero:** *laughs* "Yeah, I guess you could say that. She’s like my punk rock superhero."

**Gerard Way:** *muttering under his breath* "I need a superhero who knows how to hit the 'skip' button on Skibidi Toilet."

**Interviewer:** *laughing* "Gerard, are you... watching *Skibidi Toilet* right now?"

**Gerard Way:** *holds up iPad, showing a clip from *Skibidi Toilet* where a dancing character is wildly out of sync with the music* "Uh, yeah. It’s... art."

**Frank Iero:** *grins mischievously* "See, Gerard's whole thing is balancing deep, introspective moments with... *Skibidi Toilet*."

**Gerard Way:** *shrugs* "It’s a balance. You can’t take yourself too seriously all the time, right? Gotta laugh at the weird stuff."

**Interviewer:** *laughing* "Fair enough! So, Frank, it’s safe to say that Hawk Tuah Girl brings a lot of meaning into your life. Would you say she’s changed your perspective on your own art?"

**Frank Iero:** "Oh, definitely. I think, just like her, I’ve been learning to embrace the messiness, the weirdness. The world doesn’t need another ‘perfect’ version of anything. It needs something that feels real. And Hawk Tuah Girl, man, she’s real. She’s like a reminder to just... make noise and have fun while doing it."

**Gerard Way:** *nodding sagely* "Yeah, and *Skibidi Toilet* reminds me that anything can be art if you believe in it hard enough." *pauses* "Also, I think I might need more toilet humor in my life after this interview."

**Interviewer:** *laughing* "Well, there you have it, folks. Frank Iero finds inspiration in Hawk Tuah Girl, and Gerard... well, Gerard is watching *Skibidi Toilet*. Thank you both for such a delightful and slightly chaotic chat today."

**Frank Iero:** "Anytime. But seriously, if you haven’t checked out Hawk Tuah Girl, you need to. It’s a vibe."

**Gerard Way:** *still transfixed by his iPad* "Yeah... it’s all about the vibe." *mutters* "I’m not skipping this one."

[artbyblastweave]

To be honest, while I know that you've discussed a Worm/Marvel "crossover" before, considering how unusually different both Ultimate Universes are from mainline Marvel, how would a crossover with Worm go for those?

(Side note: I'm mainly asking for the potential thought experiment of: what if Cauldron met the Maker and all of the immense bullshit that would result from that.)

I don't think I'm totally capable of answering the back half of this ask because I haven't read The Maker comprehensively- Aside from his pre-heel turn stint in Ultimate FF, It's basically only Secret Wars, a couple of the times Ewing used him, and the current New Ultimate Universe.

So what I find interesting about this prospect is that Worm and Ultimate Marvel are very aesthetically compatible, right, you aren't going to drop one character into the other's setting and have them constantly going "what the fuck is going on" the way you would if we subbed in 616 Marvel at it's most four-color. But the worldbuilding and themes are actually very divergent in ways that are interesting to look at. Namely-

Worm is a grim, grim setting, but it's also attempting to replicate the status quo at Marvel and DC where, despite occasional attempts at government sanction or integration, there's fundamentally a weirdly high cultural tolerance for independent vigilantism as long as the person doing it is wearing a costume. Their version of Registration- The Protectorate- is a very carrot heavy initiative, when we see Kid Win making the recruitment pitch to Chariot it's all about the support you get, the funding, the backup, the PR help. Individual street level heroes get nailed to the wall or hung out to dry all the time, but collectively, they're granted a lot of discretion in that they're allowed to exist at all. And the fundamental reason for this is that the government is scared of them. They might be able to smack down individual upstarts who try to go full warlord or revolutionary, but they don't control the overall distribution of powers and there are so many of these assholes, three-quarters of whom go career criminal due to some combination of trauma, material want, neuroticism or ideology. So any set of norms that gets as many of these people as possible to behave in a slightly-less-antisocial manner is something that they're going to roll with. Worm is a world held hostage by the typical superhero paradigm, buckling under its weight. Crucial to this dynamic is that powers aren't a man-made phenomenon, and they're barely a man-influenced phenomenon via Cauldron.

But with the Ultimate Universe, a major pillar of the deconstruction and the worldbuilding is that superheroes would not be allowed to operate in the typical wild west paradigm. There's a much stronger divide between sanctioned heroes (The Ultimates, The Fantastic Four), grey-zone heroes like the X-Men, and then the out-and-out outlaw street level heroes like Daredevil and Spider-Man. A major plot point is that Nick Fury and his spooks very predictably figure out who Spider-Man is almost immediately; he's only able to continue operating as a street-level hero in the usual manner due to Fury's implicit sanction, because Fury is trying to groom him to eventually join The Ultimates. Moreover, a lot of the rest of the street-level capes (as depicted in Millar's Ultimates) are cast as genuinely incompetent puds, only not cracked down on because there's no real reason to. (Note that I have a seething hatred for this particular beat in practice because it deprived us of an Ultimate Luke Cage worth having, but I get what Millar was gesturing at with it.) All of this, likewise, is downstream of the fact that powers are almost totally a man-made phenomenon, with almost all superhumans being downstream of Military-Industrial Complex attempts at reproducing Captain America; it's not an out-of-control supernatural phenomena that they're trying to get in on, It's a government-made phenomenon that leaks like a sieve and eventually spirals out of control. The Ultimate Universe is fundamentally about Hubris in a way that Worm isn't.

Both settings converge on a state of societal collapse due to the advent of superpowers; Ultimate Marvel was gesturing at an impending superhuman-driven World-War Three for a while before things spiraled into the comparably destructive nonsense of Ultimatum, The Maker, The (partial?) balkanization of the U.S. and the rest of the crisis cavalcade that led into the 2015 Secret Wars and the total destruction of that universe. Worm suffered the much more tightly-directed Apocalyptic Bad Time with which we're all familiar.

As for a crossover premise, I'd have to say that post-gm Taylor getting marooned on 1610 and winding up in the orbit of 1610 Peter Parker specifically- as opposed to the MCU or 616 versions, with whom I've seen this done- is an underexamined hook. Ultimate Spidey represents a deft integration of Peter's best and worst personality traits. The early-run ditko-style dickishness is recontextualized as an anger about the state of the world, the crazy-making sense that bullies and dictators appear to have free run of the world and nobody but him is doing anything about it. Which, given the state of The Ultimate Universe, falls in the middle ground between typical teenaged myopia and a sober assessment of what he's up against.

Remind you of anyone?

[jacquesthepigeon]

So I had an ML dream but it was heavily AU so for context Adrien and Marinette never met as civilians and go to different schools, Marinette grew up most of her life in China and has been able to interact with the paranormal since she was little, her family knows she can see ghosts but not about the superhero schtick, ghosts can only travel to places and people that have significance to them

Anyway to finally get started on the dream, Marinette has a weird ghosty accident that puts her body into a coma. She and her fam know it’s paranormal related but can’t communicate with each other cuz her body and spirit are separated and they can’t see or interact with her ghost form. So Marinette is desperate and starts checking where and to whom she can travel when she ends up in some random guy’s bedroom. Has never seen the mans and doesn’t know what significance he has to her at first. Adrien feels something behind him while gaming and turns around to find that a presumed stalker fan has snuck into his room.

Chaos as Adrien tries to chase out the presumed stalker fan, Marinette being surprised that he can see her and also now has to explain that she’s a ghost and not a stalker, and the Agreste mansion security team coming in to help Adrien with the invisible intruder (they assume he’s hallucinating due to gaming too much without sleep)

After things calm down a bit and it’s just the two of them again, they figure out that their connection is due to being superhero partners and this is Adrien’s first time seeing a ghost so he’s excited but it’s Ladybug and she’s apparently in a coma somewhere so he wants to cry

Marinette starts making use of Adrien’s ability to interact with the physical world to stay in contact with her family and investigate places she can’t travel to herself. They’re getting to know each other in the meantime so it’s chill and sweet.

One day while Adrien’s busy outside, Marinette starts walking around the mansion when she surprisingly runs into another ghost.

Emilie.

Speaking with her, she discovers the Agreste family’s villainy mess and that Adrien is completely unaware

When Adrien gets back home, Marinette is very stiff and awkward and asks strange questions before requesting that he sends her family another message on her behalf but this time in mandarin with her painstakingly listing out how to type each character on a european keyboard, unaware that Adrien knows mandarin and can understand everything she’s having him type out, describing her encounter with Emilie’s own coma ghost and the Agreste family’s nefarious plots

Drama ensues with no resolution as I woke up

[alexanderwales]

@queenlua

(this is sort of a tangent so feel free to ignore me ENTIRELY but: who exactly is the audience for litRPG stuff? my first time hearing of it was at a sf/f writer's workshop, and when it was described to me i was like "wouldn't these people simply read webfiction" but then i was informed of The Sales Numbers Around LitRPG People I Had Never Heard Of and was like What The Hell, but i was clearly the only Extremely Online person in the room so figured i wouldn't get any further context from present company lol)

For some reason I thought I had answered this, and maybe I did somewhere and can't find it, so sorry if this is a restatement of something you've already read, but ...

There are a few fundamental fantasies being fulfilled by the modern litRPG.

First, there's the power fantasy, the idea that you can have control and be agenty and make decisions. I don't think there's anything wrong with power fantasy per se, and I expect that the desire for power fantasy will grow when people feel more and more powerless. litRPG does not offer anything much different from e.g. superhero stories, at least as far as power fantasy goes.

Second, there's the progression. This is part of the power fantasy, the getting stronger over time angle, powering up, getting better. litRPG promises that, it's in the nature of the RPG elements, and fundamental to the appeal. This is something that e.g. superhero stories usually don't have. (There is a whole genre, progression fantasy, that focuses on this, and litRPGs are usually a subset of that depending on who you ask.)

Third, the litRPG offers legibility. It is clear what the powers are, what they do, what choices are to be made. Everything is clearly laid out and easy to conceptualize, at least most of the time. And because this is the case, it's good as a platform for the imagination, especially for analytical readers. It's something for people to daydream about, argue over, etc. Legibility is super important, IMO, or at least the appearance of legibility, the illusion that the author has a Concrete Plan with Hard Numbers. Armchair psychoanalysis is that a desire for this relates to a lack of legibility (and by proxy "fairness") in real life.

Fourth, the litRPG naturally speaks the language of videogames, and a lot of the readers are super into videogames, so there's some element of "thing that I like" in there which I don't think can actually add to any analysis, but also some of the things that people like about video games are power fantasy, progression, and legibility, so ...

There's also a lot of overlap between webfic and litRPG. I don't know that I'd say it's the most popular form of webfic right now, but ... probably it is? The overall market is young men for both. [Edit: I should probably clarify that I don't know what the hell goes on over at Wattpad. AO3 is also webfic, but that's fanfic, and female dominated last I checked. I'm talking more RoyalRoad, SB/SV, QQ, etc. I am not a market expert, terms and conditions may apply.]

Here are some other reasons I've heard from people when I've asked:

it's hard to screw up, so you're guaranteed a quality baseline

the writing is often simple popcorn that's easy to digest

the writing is often bad in a way that makes it less predictable

there's often no romance or introspection

the numbers are going up, and I like that consistent dopamine drip feed

the characters are simple

the main character is just like me

I think some of these are just wild to think about, and others are not really about the genre, just the kinds of people who write within it and the stories that make up the bulk of what people are reading.

LitRPG where the protagonist's game system is very clearly from a game with a 20-minute day-night cycle, and whose gamification of hunger, thirst, and sleep just wreaks havoc on his personal and professional life.

Just kidding, litRPG protagonists don't have personal or professional lives.

[yesimtrashforit]

It has occurred to me recently that a main part of Will's storyline is that a lot of people underestimate him and are overprotective of him, and this is shown by a lot of characters in the show (Joyce, Jonathan, Mike, etc.) but I feel like this is coincidently a view shared by the GA. That Will is this weak, sensitive kid. HUGE reminder that this kid was abused by his father, bullied by homophobic little shits in school, survived the UD for a week, had/still has a psychological connection to beings of unimaginable terror, survived a damn exorcism where he was burned and overheated to the point of extreme exhaustion, survived numerous attacks by said beings of unimaginable terror, watched his friends and family risk their lives for him, etc. AND SO MANY PEOPLE IN THE GA ARE STILL LIKE "why does he cry so much"

are you stupid? like are you genuinely dumb?

This kinda hits for me personally because i think a main part of season 4 is that people are always healing and struggling with things you don't know about. (Chrissy with an ED, Fred with guilt about the car crash, Patrick with his father.) The GA KNOWS what Will has been through and they still judge him and give him no sympathy when it comes to the storyline of his sexuality. (That's a whole different conversation, but I digress)

One of the reasons why Will resonates with me so much as a character is because he shows what post-traumatic stress is like for a kid/teenager. I obviously haven't been through even a third of what he has, but (to get a little personal here for the purposes of writing this post) as a young teen, I experienced vicious school bullying that bizarrely resulted in PTSD-like symptoms that manifested into my high school years as horrific and violent nightmares, anxiety around school, and difficultly making friends.

When I rewatch season 2 now, the scene with Will's now-memory on Halloween hits hard because that scene shows his flashback/vision being triggered by bullies. I was Will's age when I was going through similar things. My nightmares kinda looked like that. Even the ones that aren't shown in the show that Will speaks of. These monsters hurting his family and friends and being unable to stop it. People don't expect that type of shit to happen to a 13-year-old.

I had shit like that in my nightmares and I cried a ton. So if he's a weak and sensitive kid for that, what does that make me?

What I hope for him in season 5 is a part where he proves himself as a strong and capable person, not necessarily by others' definition, but showing that vulnerability is a superpower. He's a superhero in his own right and that should be a message for everyone next season! We all have our own things that make us a hero. This applies to every single character in the show. The other characters are just as heroic as El, not because they have telekinetic powers, but because they've all been through this stuff together and have always been determined to fight evil with good.

[amethystarachnid]

Thank you for writing my little Tony story 🤍

If it's not too much, can you write a second part for me please? Tony and reader finding out the baby's gender, Tony surprising her with a beautiful surprise proposal, maybe the other Anvegers can even help 🤍 the marriage and the baby's birth? 🤍🤍🤍 I lobe family man Tony too, it's so cute 🤍🤍🤍

Thank you!

ACCIDENTS HAPPEN - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

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

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: it's almost time for the baby's arrival so Tony decides that it's the perfect time to propose, as he drops to one knee you're sure you've found your happy ending,

ᯓ★ TW(s): childbirth

ᯓ★ I love family man Tony so much, matter of fact, I love every character seen as a family man I don't know why lol.

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

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

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

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The baby shower is shaping up to be a bigger event than you ever expected, though you probably should’ve seen it coming. With the Avengers involved, nothing is ever subtle. Tony, of course, is no help in scaling things back. In fact, he’s leaning into the chaos, throwing out extravagant suggestions like hiring live performers or setting up a drone fireworks display. You shoot most of his ideas down, insisting that this is a baby shower, not a red-carpet event.

Still, the excitement is infectious. Natasha takes charge of the planning—she’s surprisingly good at it, efficient and precise, down to the last detail. She ropes Bruce into helping, and the two of them become the only ones who know the baby’s gender. The rest of the team, including you and Tony, are kept in the dark, much to Tony’s annoyance.

“I don’t see why I can’t bribe Banner,” Tony grumbles one afternoon as he paces the kitchen. “He’s a terrible liar, anyway. A few drinks, a little sweet-talking, and he’d spill.”

“Good luck with that,” you reply with a smirk, stirring a cup of tea. “Natasha would kill him if he said anything. And you know she could.”

“Fair point,” Tony concedes, though he still looks annoyed. “Still, I’m calling it now: it’s a girl. She’s going to be brilliant, gorgeous, and way too smart for her own good. Just like her mom.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, really? Because I’m thinking it’s a boy. Stubborn, full of energy, and probably way too much like you.”

“Not possible,” he says with mock seriousness. “There’s only room for one of me in this world.”

Clint chimes in later that evening when the team gathers in the common room, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he munches on a bag of chips. “I’m betting on a boy,” he says, pointing a chip in your direction. “Gotta have someone to teach archery to. Plus, Stark with a son? That’s comedy gold.”

Thor, who’s been helping decorate the living room with streamers and balloons (many of which are Asgardian-sized), disagrees. “A daughter would be most fitting,” he declares, his voice booming. “She will have the strength of her father and the grace of her mother. A true warrior!”

Steve, predictably, tries to stay neutral. “I think you’ll be happy no matter what,” he says diplomatically, though there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at Tony. “That said, I wouldn’t mind seeing Stark try to handle a teenage girl someday.”

“God help us,” Natasha mutters with a smirk.

On the day of the baby shower, the compound is transformed. There are decorations everywhere—streamers in pastel pinks and blues, balloons shaped like baby bottles, and a banner reading Welcome, Baby Stark! stretched across the main wall. The table is laden with food, drinks, and an elaborate cake that looks too beautiful to eat. There’s even a pile of gifts in the corner, ranging from practical items like diapers and onesies to absurdly expensive gadgets Tony probably ordered himself.

Natasha and Bruce are the picture of calm, though you know they’ve been coordinating the big reveal for weeks. The two of them exchange knowing looks every time someone tries to guess the baby’s gender, clearly enjoying their role as gatekeepers of the secret.

The main event comes after everyone’s had their fill of food and games, including a hilariously chaotic round of diaper-changing races featuring Steve and Thor. Natasha steps forward, holding a small box wrapped in neutral-colored paper. She taps a spoon against her glass to get everyone’s attention.

“All right, everyone, it’s time,” she says, her tone firm but playful. “Y/N, Tony, come up here.”

You exchange a glance with Tony, who’s grinning like a kid at Christmas, and follow Natasha to the front of the room. Bruce joins her, carrying what looks like a smoke cannon with pastel-colored confetti inside.

“Are we sure Banner knows how to use that?” Tony whispers to you, earning a chuckle.

Natasha ignores him and gestures for Bruce to hand the cannon to Tony. “This is simple,” she says. “On the count of three, you twist it. The confetti will tell you the gender. Got it?”

“Got it,” Tony says, his grip tightening on the cannon. He looks at you, his grin softening into something tender. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Ready,” you reply, your heart pounding.

The room buzzes with anticipation as Natasha begins the countdown. “Three… two… one!”

Tony twists the cannon, and an explosion of pink confetti fills the air, raining down in a sparkling shower. The room erupts into cheers, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the cloud of pink with wide eyes.

“A girl,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly as the reality sinks in. “We’re having a girl.”

Tony turns to you, his grin splitting his face as he pulls you into his arms. “I told you,” he says, laughing as he spins you around. “I knew it!”

You’re laughing now too, tears streaming down your cheeks as the team gathers around, offering congratulations and playful jabs. Thor claps Tony on the back hard enough to make him stumble, while Clint pretends to look disappointed but quickly admits, “She’s probably gonna be cooler than a boy anyway.”

Natasha smirks, crossing her arms. “Told you it was worth the wait.”

As the excitement settles and the confetti begins to drift to the floor, Tony kneels in front of you, his hands resting gently on your growing belly. He looks up at you, his expression soft and filled with a kind of awe that takes your breath away.

“Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “It’s official now. You’ve got one hell of a team waiting for you out here. But you know what? Your mom and I? We’re the lucky ones.”

Your heart swells, and you reach down to run your fingers through his hair. In that moment, surrounded by your friends, your family, and the overwhelming love in Tony’s eyes, you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

The nursery preparation becomes a joint project, though you suspect Tony might be using it as an excuse to turn every design meeting into a spectacle. It starts with a simple conversation over breakfast about colors and furniture, but within hours, Tony’s drawing up blueprints for a room so high-tech it could double as a lab.

“Tony,” you say, leaning over his shoulder as he sketches a design for a mobile with holographic planets orbiting a glowing star. “This is a nursery, not the International Space Station.”

He turns to you with an exaggerated look of shock. “Why settle for ordinary when our baby can have the universe in her room? Imagine it—she’ll look up and be inspired every night.”

You can’t help but smile, even as you roll your eyes. “She’s not going to care about any of this for at least a few years. Let’s focus on a crib that doesn’t look like it’s from the future, okay?”

“Compromise,” he says with a smirk. “The crib will be traditional. The rest? Cutting-edge Stark tech.”

Choosing the color scheme turns into its own adventure. You veto pink almost immediately, wanting something more neutral and calming. “What about soft blues and grays?” you suggest one afternoon as you hold up a paint swatch.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Blues and grays? What is she, a baby or a Zen monk? Let’s go bold—deep purples, maybe some gold accents.”

“She’s a baby,” you remind him with a laugh. “She needs soothing, not a nightclub.”

Eventually, you settle on a compromise: a soft starry theme with muted blues, silvers, and whites, accented by golden stars and constellations painted along the walls. Tony insists on installing a custom ceiling projector that will display a moving galaxy, complete with twinkling stars and nebulae, for bedtime. You draw the line at installing an AI assistant in the room—at least for now.

The naming debate, however, proves to be even more challenging.

It starts casually one evening as you both lounge on the couch, flipping through baby name books. “Okay,” you say, running your finger down a list. “How about something classic? Elizabeth? Grace?”

Tony shakes his head. “Too stuffy. She’s going to be a Stark; she needs something unique. How about Nova?”

You pause, considering it. “Nova’s not bad,” you admit. “But it feels… incomplete.”

Tony grins. “Well, it’s lightyears ahead of Grace.”

You toss a pillow at him, laughing. “Fine. What else have you got, Mr. Genius?”

He leans back, pretending to think deeply. “Aurora. You know, like the northern lights.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Beautiful, but maybe a bit too Disney princess?”

The conversation goes on like this for days. Tony throws out names like Vega, Lyra, and Andromeda, while you try to steer him toward something more grounded. Neither of you seems willing to budge, though secretly you both enjoy the banter.

It’s during one of these discussions, late at night, that the perfect name finally emerges.

You’re lying in bed, the lights dimmed, and Tony’s hand rests protectively over your belly as he rambles about constellations. “Sirius is too much,” he says, more to himself than to you. “But it’d be cool if we could tie it back to something celestial. Something meaningful.”

You hum in agreement, half-asleep, when a thought strikes you. “Stella,” you say softly, testing the name on your tongue.

Tony freezes, then sits up slightly to look at you. “Stella,” he repeats, his voice thoughtful. “Latin for ‘star.’ Simple, beautiful, and meaningful. I love it.”

You smile, your heart warming at his reaction. “You really like it?”

“I don’t just like it,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s perfect. Stella Stark. Our little star.”

The next morning, you tell the rest of the team about the name, and everyone agrees it’s fitting. Thor, especially, is thrilled. “A name worthy of the cosmos!” he declares, raising his coffee mug like a goblet.

Even Clint, who usually teases Tony at every opportunity, nods in approval. “Stella’s solid,” he says. “Classy, but not pretentious. Good pick.”

As the nursery nears completion and Stella’s name starts appearing on everything—from personalized blankets to a tiny plaque above the crib—you find yourself growing more excited with each passing day. The walls are painted, the furniture is assembled, and Tony’s holographic mobile is, admittedly, a work of art.

One evening, as you both stand in the finished nursery, Tony wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “You know,” he murmurs, looking around at the room, “we might’ve gone a little overboard.”

“A little,” you agree, though you can’t help but smile.

“But she’s worth it,” he adds, his voice soft as he rests his forehead against yours.

“She is,” you whisper, your heart full.

As the galaxy projector casts a soft glow of stars across the ceiling, you know that Stella is already surrounded by more love and wonder than you ever could’ve imagined.

The shift in behavior starts subtly. At first, you think you’re imagining it—the way Natasha ends phone calls the moment you enter the room or how Clint suddenly has a reason to leave anytime you try to ask what he and Tony were whispering about. Even Steve, who’s usually a beacon of honesty, seems unusually tight-lipped when you catch him and Bruce exchanging cryptic looks during a mission debrief.

Tony, of course, is no better. If anything, he’s the most suspicious of them all. Normally, he shares every detail of his day with you, but lately, he’s been “working late” more often than usual. When you ask what he’s working on, his answers are evasive, laced with a nonchalance that you don’t buy for a second.

“Just tweaking some tech,” he says one evening, typing furiously on a holographic keyboard that he closes the moment you approach. “You know, the usual.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “The usual doesn’t usually involve secretive meetings with the entire team or you hiding your screens from me.”

Tony looks up, flashing you one of his patented grins. “Paranoid much, sweetheart? Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones.”

You roll your eyes, but you let it slide—for now.

The day of the proposal dawns like any other. You wake up to the sound of Tony humming softly beside you, his hand resting protectively over your belly, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him. At seven months pregnant, your body feels heavier and more tired than usual, but Tony’s been nothing if not attentive—sometimes to the point of hovering. Still, there’s something in his gaze this morning, a kind of nervous energy that makes you suspicious.

“What’s with the grin?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“No grin,” he says, though the corners of his mouth betray him. “Just appreciating how stunning you look, as always.”

“Mmhmm,” you murmur, giving him a skeptical look. “If you’re planning something, Stark, I’ll figure it out.”

He smirks, leaning down to kiss your belly. “No secrets here, baby girl. Daddy’s just got work to do today.”

That afternoon, Natasha convinces you to go out for some “girl time,” which in itself feels suspicious. Nat rarely suggests spa days or shopping trips, but she waves off your questions with a smirk.

“Can’t a friend treat her very pregnant bestie to some pampering?” she says, steering you toward the door. “Besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do while Tony tinkers in the lab.”

By the time you return to the compound, you’re relaxed but even more curious. The hallways are quiet—too quiet—and the usual buzz of activity is strangely absent. As Natasha leads you toward the common area, your suspicions grow.

“What’s going on?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. “Why do I feel like I’m walking into an ambush?”

Natasha just smirks, tugging you forward. “You’ll see.”

The doors to the common area slide open, and your breath catches. The room is transformed. Soft, glowing lights hang from the ceiling like stars, casting a warm, ethereal glow. A pathway lined with rose petals leads to the center of the room, where Tony stands in a perfectly tailored suit, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. Behind him, the rest of the Avengers stand in a loose semicircle, all wearing knowing smiles.

“Tony,” you whisper, your heart pounding as Natasha gives you a gentle nudge forward.

He takes a step toward you, his usual confidence tempered by the kind of vulnerability he rarely shows. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it’s like the rest of the world fades away.

“Y/N,” he begins, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “You’ve already given me so much. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and in just a couple of months, you’re going to give me the greatest gift of all—our daughter.”

You feel tears welling up as he continues, his hand reaching out to take yours. “But before she gets here, I want to give you something, too. I want to give you my heart, my name, my everything. I want us to be a family, officially, because… well, because I love you more than words can ever say.”

He drops to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a dazzling engagement ring. The diamond sparkles like a star, and you can’t help but gasp.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice soft but firm, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to speak. Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod, a laugh bubbling up through your emotions. “Yes,” you finally manage, your voice breaking. “Yes, Tony, of course!”

Tony’s grin is so wide it looks like it might split his face. He slides the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling slightly, and then he’s standing, pulling you into his arms. He holds you close, burying his face in your hair as you cling to him.

“You’re crying,” you murmur against his shoulder, your voice teasing despite your own tears.

“I am not,” he protests, though his voice wavers. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes glistening. “Okay, maybe a little. But don’t tell anyone, all right? I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You laugh, wiping at your own tears as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Behind you, the Avengers erupt into cheers and applause, Clint letting out a loud wolf whistle while Thor raises his hammer in triumph.

“About time!” Clint calls out, grinning from ear to ear.

Natasha smirks, her arms crossed. “Told you she’d say yes.”

Later that evening, as you sit together in the nursery, the engagement ring glittering on your finger and Tony’s hand resting over your belly, you can’t help but marvel at how far you’ve come. He looks at you like you’re his entire world, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like nothing could ever go wrong.

“You’re happy,” you say softly, studying his face.

Tony looks at you, his expression filled with a love so deep it takes your breath away. “I’m more than happy,” he says, his voice low and earnest. “You and Stella… you’re everything I never knew I needed.”

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder as the baby kicks gently against his hand. “We love you too,” you whisper, and in that moment, the universe feels just right.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day starts out completely normal—or at least as normal as life gets when you’re living with Tony Stark and the Avengers. You’re lounging on the couch, rubbing your enormous belly, when you feel the first contraction. It’s mild, more like a cramp than anything else, but enough to make you pause mid-sentence while you’re trying to convince Tony that the name Stella is not negotiable for her middle name.

“Everything okay?” Tony asks, looking up from where he’s fiddling with one of his many gadgets.

You nod, brushing it off. “Yeah, just… I think she’s practicing her escape plan.”

Tony chuckles. “Smart kid. Of course, she’s my daughter. She’s already planning ahead.”

You roll your eyes but let the moment pass. That is until another contraction hits—not unbearable, but definitely noticeable. You wince, shifting in your seat.

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Okay, that wasn’t just a practice run. What’s going on?”

You try to play it cool. “I think it might be starting, but it’s fine. First labors take a while. No need to—”

But before you can finish, Tony is up and moving like the house is on fire. “FRIDAY! Get the car! Clear a path! Call Banner! Wait, no, call Bruce AND the hospital! Get Nat to pack a bag—do we have a bag? Where’s the bag?”

You laugh despite yourself, waving a hand to calm him down. “Tony, relax. I’m not even sure it’s—”

Tony is already pacing, pulling his phone out to make calls. “Relax? RELAX? You’re about to bring an entire human into the world, and you want me to relax? You know who doesn’t relax? Tony Stark. I plan. I execute.” He points to your belly. “That tiny genius in there is counting on me!”

Another contraction interrupts your attempt to reassure him, this one stronger than before. You grip the edge of the couch, exhaling sharply. Tony’s eyes go wide, and his face pales.

“That’s it,” he declares. “We’re going now. FRIDAY, where’s the car?”

By the time you get to the hospital, Tony’s nerves are a full-blown circus. He’s barking orders at the nurses, double-checking every piece of equipment they wheel past, and generally acting like a man whose entire world is on the brink of chaos.

“Are those sterilized?” he asks one poor nurse, gesturing to a tray of instruments. “Because I know a guy who can check for microscopic contaminants.”

“Tony,” you groan from the wheelchair they’ve put you in. “Let the professionals do their job.”

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “Right. Sorry. Carry on.”

Once you’re settled in the delivery room, the contractions intensify, and so does Tony’s panic. He’s pacing again, alternating between squeezing your hand and apologizing for squeezing your hand too hard.

“Why is this taking so long?” he mutters, glancing at the clock. “Is there a way to, I don’t know, speed this up? I mean, we’ve got science, right? Lasers? Something?”

Your labor nurse gives him a patient smile. “Babies come on their own time, Mr. Stark.”

Tony points at her, dead serious. “I’ll have you know I’ve streamlined multi-billion-dollar manufacturing processes. I could totally streamline—”

“Tony!” you snap, gripping his hand through another contraction. “If you don’t stop talking about lasers and streamlining, I’m going to throw you out of this room.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says quickly, wincing as your grip tightens. “You’re doing great, by the way. Absolutely phenomenal. Ten out of ten.”

As the hours pass, Tony alternates between being overly helpful and hilariously unhelpful. At one point, he tries to "coach" you through the contractions, repeating advice he clearly Googled five minutes earlier.

“Breathe, babe,” he says, crouching next to you. “In through the nose, out through the—OW!” He yelps as you squeeze his hand, your patience wearing thin.

“I am breathing!” you growl. “You breathe!”

“Right, got it,” he says, shaking out his hand. “I’ll breathe quieter.”

By the time you’re ready to push, Tony looks like he’s aged ten years. His hair is a mess, his suit jacket is nowhere to be seen, and he’s nervously chewing on his bottom lip as if he’s the one doing all the hard work.

“Okay,” the doctor says. “It’s time to meet your baby. Dad, are you ready?”

Tony blinks, his face going pale again. “Wait, me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Just stay next to me and try not to pass out,” you deadpan, glaring at him through gritted teeth.

The actual delivery feels like a blur, but Tony’s reactions are crystal clear. As soon as Stella’s first cry fills the room, he freezes, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. The doctor places her on your chest, and you look down at the tiny, wriggling bundle of perfection. Tears stream down your face as you cradle her, overwhelmed with love.

Tony leans over, his hands hovering awkwardly as if he’s afraid to touch her. “She’s… she’s perfect,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

You glance up at him, smiling through your tears. “She is.”

He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as if trying to fight back tears of his own. “I’m not crying,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… dusty in here.”

“Sure, Tony,” you say, laughing softly. “Whatever you say.”

He finally reaches out, gently running a finger along Stella’s tiny hand. When she grips his finger, his face lights up like you’ve never seen before.

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “It’s me. Your dad. I’m the guy who’s going to spoil you rotten and probably embarrass you in front of all your friends someday.”

You laugh again, your heart so full it feels like it might burst. As Tony leans down to kiss your forehead, then Stella’s, you know this moment—this messy, chaotic, perfect moment—is one you’ll never forget.

The ride home is surprisingly smooth, considering Tony’s usual flair for drama. He insists on driving, despite your gentle protests, and the way he handles the car like it’s made of glass is almost endearing. Stella, snug in her carrier, sleeps through the whole thing, her tiny face scrunched in a way that makes your heart ache with love.

“Are you sure she’s breathing?” Tony asks for the third time, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, Tony,” you reply, trying not to laugh. “Babies sleep. It’s kind of their thing.”

He huffs, clearly unsatisfied. “Well, it’s nerve-wracking. I’m used to things that come with a manual, not ones that just… exist and rely on me not to screw up.”

“She’ll be fine,” you reassure him, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The Avengers are waiting when you arrive at the compound, their faces pressed against the windows like eager kids waiting for Santa. Even Clint, who normally pretends to be too cool for this sort of thing, looks uncharacteristically excited.

The moment you step inside, carrying Stella in her carrier, they descend like a swarm.

“Oh my God, she’s so tiny!” Natasha coos, her usual stoicism replaced with pure, unfiltered awe. “Look at her little hands.”

Steve grins, leaning down to get a better look. “She’s beautiful,” he says warmly, his voice tinged with a kind of reverence.

“She’s definitely got your nose, Y/N,” Bruce chimes in, smiling shyly. “Lucky kid.”

Even Clint, who’d joked for months about how he wasn’t going to fawn over “just another Stark,” can’t help but soften. “She’s pretty cute,” he admits, though his grin betrays his attempt at nonchalance.

“Cute?” Tony cuts in, feigning offense. “Try perfect. Absolute masterpiece. My finest work.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “She’s not one of your inventions, Tony.”

“No,” he agrees, his gaze softening as he looks at Stella. “She’s better.”

Thor, meanwhile, looms in the background, looking uncharacteristically nervous. You catch him shifting his weight from foot to foot, his brows furrowed as he watches the others coo and fuss over Stella.

“Thor,” you call gently, motioning him over. “Do you want to meet her?”

He hesitates, his usual bravado replaced with uncertainty. “I am unsure,” he admits, his voice low. “She is so small. What if I… break her?”

Tony snorts. “Relax, Point Break. She’s sturdier than she looks.”

Thor’s eyes widen. “Are you certain? For I have been told I am… exuberant in my movements.”

You can’t help but smile. “You’ll be fine. Just be gentle.”

Carefully, you unbuckle Stella from her carrier and place her in Thor’s massive hands. He cradles her like she’s made of glass, his expression a mix of awe and terror.

“She is… radiant,” he says after a moment, his voice soft. “A tiny warrior in the making.”

Stella squirms, letting out a small gurgle, and Thor immediately panics. “What is this sound? Is she displeased? Have I offended her?”

You laugh, taking her back before his nerves get the better of him. “She’s just waking up. You did great, Thor.”

He exhales in relief, looking visibly proud despite his earlier fear. “Then I shall strive to earn her favor, as a worthy uncle should.”

As the evening wears on, the Avengers take turns holding Stella, each of them surprisingly adept in their own way. Natasha rocks her gently, whispering something soft and sweet in Russian. Steve looks completely at ease, cradling her with a quiet confidence that makes you wonder if he’s done this before. Bruce hums softly, his gentle demeanor soothing Stella when she stirs.

Clint, ever the showman, gets her to grab his finger and immediately declares, “She likes me best. Sorry, everyone else.”

Even Thor eventually works up the courage to hold her again, this time with less fear and more awe.

Tony, meanwhile, hovers nearby, alternating between beaming with pride and trying to direct everyone on the proper way to hold her.

“Support her head,” he says for the fifth time, gesturing like he’s leading a workshop. “And don’t jostle her too much. She’s had a big day.”

“Tony,” you say, placing a hand on his arm to calm him. “She’s fine. Look at her—she’s surrounded by love.”

He glances around the room, taking in the sight of his teammates—his family—cooing and fussing over Stella. His shoulders relax, and a small, genuine smile tugs at his lips.

“Yeah,” he says softly, slipping an arm around your waist. “She’s going to be okay.”

You lean into him, watching as Stella lets out a tiny yawn, completely unfazed by the chaos around her. In this moment, surrounded by your unconventional but loving family, you know she’s going to grow up in the best possible way.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day is perfect—blue skies, warm sunlight, and the hum of excitement in the air as friends and family gather in the garden of the Stark estate for the wedding. You stand in the bridal suite, adjusting the lace sleeves of your gown, the soft fabric hugging your body comfortably enough to accommodate the postpartum changes you’re still embracing. In your arms, Stella squirms, her tiny hands tugging at the delicate veil trailing over your shoulder.

“Mommy’s trying to look fancy,” you murmur, kissing her chubby cheek. “Try not to drool too much on the dress, okay?”

Natasha appears in the doorway, dressed elegantly in a flowing gown but still managing to radiate her usual aura of cool confidence. “Ready to knock Tony off his feet?” she asks with a smirk.

You laugh nervously. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Natasha leans in to take a peek at Stella, who’s now gnawing on her fingers. “And what about you, little one? Ready to steal the show?”

“She’s been ready since birth,” you say, smiling fondly. “I just hope she doesn’t start screaming halfway down the aisle.”

The music starts—soft, romantic, and unmistakably orchestrated to perfection because, of course, Tony insisted on hiring the best string quartet money could buy. You step out into the aisle, holding Stella securely against your chest.

All eyes are on you, but your gaze locks instantly with Tony’s. He’s standing at the altar in a sharp tuxedo, his hair immaculately styled, but it’s his expression that floors you. His eyes are shining, his lips trembling slightly as he takes you in—his fiancée, his daughter in your arms, walking toward him like a vision straight out of his dreams.

When you’re halfway down the aisle, you catch him discreetly wiping at his eyes, though his attempt to play it cool is utterly transparent. You can’t help but smile.

“Crying already?” you tease softly as you reach the altar.

Tony’s voice cracks as he replies, “It’s allergies. Don’t get used to it.”

The officiant clears his throat, gesturing for everyone to sit. You pass Stella to Natasha, who holds her with practiced ease, but not before Tony sneaks a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Don’t cause too much trouble for Aunt Nat, okay?” he whispers.

The ceremony is beautiful, filled with laughter, a few tears, and vows that manage to be both heartfelt and hilariously Tony.

“I promise to always make you laugh,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “To build you anything you need—even if it’s just a better coffee maker. And I promise that no matter how big our family gets or how crazy life becomes, you’ll always be the center of my world.”

You smile, your heart full as you reply, “And I promise to keep you grounded—even when you’re flying. To stand by you, even when you’re being insufferable. And to love you, completely, for the genius, ridiculous, wonderful man that you are.”

The guests cheer when you kiss, and you can hear Clint shouting something about “finally making an honest man out of Stark,” but you’re too caught up in the moment to care. Tony’s hands are on your waist, his forehead pressed to yours as he whispers, “You’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Stark.”

The reception is lively, filled with laughter and champagne toasts, but the true star of the evening is Stella. At six months old, she’s the smallest guest but easily the most adored. She’s passed from one Avenger to the next, each of them taking turns cooing and playing with her. Steve lets her grab at his finger, grinning like a proud uncle. Bruce gently bounces her on his knee, her giggles drawing smiles from everyone around. Even Thor takes a turn, holding her aloft and declaring her “the mightiest of babes” before you quickly retrieve her, worried he might throw her like Mjolnir.

Despite the joy of the day, you and Tony find yourselves constantly glancing toward wherever Stella is. When you see her reaching for a cupcake, her tiny hand almost toppling the entire dessert tower, you excuse yourself mid-conversation to intercept.

“She’s got your appetite,” you say, placing Stella in her high chair and handing her a safer option—a teething biscuit.

“And your stubbornness,” Tony adds, crouching next to you to adjust her little headband. He kisses her forehead before looking up at you, his expression soft. “We did pretty good, didn’t we?”

You smile, leaning down to kiss him. “We did amazing.”

As the night winds down, you dance with Tony under the fairy lights, Stella dozing peacefully in Natasha’s arms nearby.

“Today was perfect,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder.

Tony pulls you closer, his hand warm on your back. “Because of you,” he murmurs. “You and Stella—you’re my whole world.”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love. “And you’re ours.”

The music swells, and for a moment, it’s just the three of you in your own little world, the rest of the party fading into the background.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Four years later

Four years later, the Stark household is as lively as ever. Stella, now a spirited and endlessly curious four-year-old, is the undeniable star of the compound. She’s sharp like her dad, determined like her mom, and, to everyone’s ongoing astonishment, utterly enamored with Thor.

“Where is Uncle Thor?” Stella demands one morning, her tiny hands on her hips in a perfect mimicry of your stance when you're irritated. “He promised we’d go find worms for the garden!”

You chuckle as you rest a hand on your growing belly. “Honey, Uncle Thor’s busy with work. He can’t always come running every time you call.”

“Why not?” she counters, pouting. “He’s the Mighty Thor. He’s not too busy for me.”

You shake your head, smiling. “You’ve got your daddy’s charm, you know that?”

Tony walks in just in time to hear the exchange, a cup of coffee in one hand and a slightly sour expression on his face. “I don’t know what he’s done to brainwash her, but I don’t like it,” he grumbles, leaning down to kiss your cheek before ruffling Stella’s hair.

“Uncle Thor is the best!” Stella declares, throwing her arms up dramatically. “He’s teaching me how to lift Mjolnir!”

“Is he now?” Tony says, narrowing his eyes. “I thought I told him no godly powers until after kindergarten.”

Later that afternoon, Thor arrives as promised, and Stella runs to greet him, her excitement so infectious even Tony can’t entirely suppress a grin. Thor sweeps her up, spinning her around like she weighs nothing.

“Ah, my favorite little warrior!” Thor booms. “Are you ready to brave the wilderness?”

“Yes!” Stella squeals, clutching onto him tightly. “Let’s go, Uncle Thor!”

“Wilderness?” Tony interjects, crossing his arms. “You mean my backyard?”

Thor just grins. “Every great adventure starts somewhere, Stark.”

As they head outside, you and Tony watch from the window, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders.

“I can’t believe she picked him as her favorite,” Tony says with mock despair. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“A magic hammer?” you suggest, smirking.

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Unbelievable. After all I’ve done for her.”

“Don’t worry,” you tease, patting your belly. “Maybe this little guy will be Team Dad.”

Tony’s face softens immediately, his free hand coming to rest gently on your growing bump. “He better be,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss it. “Otherwise, I’ll have to build another suit—Baby Iron Man Edition.”

Stella eventually drags Thor back inside, both of them covered in dirt but grinning like co-conspirators. Thor greets your belly with a reverent nod, placing a hand on it like he’s bestowing a blessing. “He stirs with strength already,” he declares. “A future warrior.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “He’s not even born yet, Point Break. Let’s not start handing out titles.”

Stella crawls onto the couch next to you, her small hands carefully pressing against your belly. “Mommy, when will the baby come out?”

“In a few months, sweetie,” you say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “He needs to grow a little more before he’s ready.”

“Will he be bigger than me?”

“Not at first,” Tony interjects, scooping her up onto his lap. “But don’t worry, Stella. You’ll always be the boss. It’s your job to teach him everything you know.”

Stella beams at that, puffing out her chest. “I’m going to be the best big sister ever.”

Tony chuckles, kissing her on the forehead. “I have no doubt.”

The rest of the day is filled with the usual chaos—Stella insisting she help with dinner (which mostly means spilling flour everywhere), Thor recounting dramatic tales of Asgardian battles to an enraptured audience, and Tony tinkering in his lab while occasionally glancing over to check on you.

Later that night, as you’re tucking Stella into bed, she clings to your arm, her wide eyes full of curiosity.

“Mommy?” she asks softly. “Do you think the baby will like Uncle Thor too?”

You laugh, stroking her hair. “Probably. But I think he’s going to like you the most.”

Her face lights up, and she snuggles deeper into her blankets. “Good. I’ll share Uncle Thor with him, but only a little.”

After kissing her goodnight, you return to the living room, where Tony is waiting on the couch, a glass of sparkling water in hand for you.

“Is she down?” he asks, pulling you gently into his side as you sink onto the cushions.

“Out like a light,” you reply, taking the glass. “She was asking if the baby will like Thor.”

Tony groans, tipping his head back dramatically. “That man is a menace.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “You know you love how happy he makes her.”

Tony’s arm tightens around you, his voice softening. “Yeah, I do. But you know what makes me happiest?”

“What?”

“This,” he says, resting his hand on your bump again. “All of us. Together.”

You smile, your heart full as you lean into him. “Me too.”

[bleh1bleh2]

Batman #411

New Teen Titans v2 #020

[stealingyourbones]

Gotta love when folks write Superman incredibly anti-clone even though he had good reason in the beginning to Not Like Superboy (HES A WINDOW INTO WHAT CLARK WOULD HAVE BEEN WITHOUT THE KENTS) and decide that forever on he’ll be spiteful towards clones even though he literally Does Not Care if you’re a clone unless you’re Superboy.

[sciderman]

I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain

Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it

i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)

really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!

undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.

i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.

people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.

peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.

it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."

so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.

people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.

autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.

[kideternity]

There’s something really fascinating about the fact that one of the major themes that keeps appearing in Amazon is that of like, xenophobia? Like xenophobia against Amazon? Amazon is often persecuted and mistreated by the people he's trying to protect just because he looks and acts “strange”. He was attacked by a group of men who tried to kill him because they thought of him to be a murderer, he was later arrested by the police and then hounded by paparazzi for being “weird” or “suspicious”, A scientist learns of him and gets the idea he should literally study amazon- treat him as a specimen to be dissected then as a real person- he’s later harassed and literally restrained by another mob of people all because some random lady thought him simply playing with her son was something Nefarious / lead to something nefarious. Even Ritsuko, one of the major supporting characters, has a major part of her character be about overcoming her negative assumptions and thoughts about Amazon (There’s one episode, though i'm unsure if the subs cross over to all versions, where she literally tells him to Leave Japan and go back to the Amazon Jungle because he’s the reason all of the trouble came to Japan in the first place. Sounds awfully familiar to certain talking points, doesn’t it)

All of this occurs simply because Amazon does not fit into the ideal of the average Japanese citizen. He wears little clothing, he acts very erratically and energetically, and most imperatively of all he has a language barrier in that he can't communicate like speak Japanese fluently. Amazon is not in anyway a bad or dangerous person, but due to the culture/environment he was raised in and how that differs to what people expect as the norm, he’s more likely to be perceived as a threat.

I can not confidently say this was intentionally built into the show, but considering the innately political nature of Kamen Rider, at least Showa era Rider, I would be inclined to believe it’s more likely than not that Amazon's persecution by others is meant to at least tie in some way to a commentary about the deeply harmful nature of xenophobia. It makes Amazon's feelings, as well as his choice to still choose to care for others and to help them, a lot more impactful + heart wrenching for me personally. He’s literally just trying his best and so many people hate him. Cut the guy some fucking slack.

[silverwhittlingknife]

hiii! i just wanted to reach out n let you know that i just spent the last few days speed reading all your ao3 work bc i literally couldn't put it down. the way you write dick really just scratches my brain in the best way possible. he's a little (read: very) neurotic and it just. his motivations are so clear in your work, not in the sense that there isn't tension and anxiety but in that his core personality, his drive to help and the anger and trauma that has built him, his need to always be performing and catering to those around him, it comes across sososososos SO well. he was the first character that got me into comics and since then i've kinda stopped reading him bc i have lots of issues w tom taylors run (not the point so i digress) but you have really inspired me to go back and read more of his old stuff so thank you! you have such a clear grasp on his character and its something i admire very much! ur very very talented! and i really appreciate you sharing ur art! hope ur doin well :)

HI THIS IS SUCH A NICE COMPLIMENT???? <3333 This is so nice & sweet & it made my whole day!!! THANK YOU I AM HUGGING YOU ACROSS THE INTERNET AHHHHHH

he's a little (read: very) neurotic and it just. his motivations are so clear in your work, not in the sense that there isn't tension and anxiety but in that his core personality, his drive to help and the anger and trauma that has built him, his need to always be performing and catering to those around him

YEAH IT's HIMMMM i love this description <333

THANK YOU YOU ARE LOVELY & KIND PLS ACCEPT THIS DOG PICTURE AS TOKEN OF MY GRATITUDE

[criticalgay]

ppl on from reddit are insane but not in a insane theories way more in a I think you don't have enough media literacy to watch a show like this insane

[consumeroflemoans]

(Click for hq)

Kyuki (久輝)

The result of this create your own monster OC challenge (these were my results)

I wanted to make a more modern take on the kitsune. Like instead of old Japan, what if there was a young kitsune existing in cities?

They’re known for punishing greed and boasting in many stories and I’d like to think they’d continue that legacy, hiding in the shadows of alleyways and slipping hidden through the streets, tricking and humiliating anyone they deem worthy.

They’re still closer to an anti-hero than a true hero. They don’t particularly care who they hurt as long as they gain amusement. The only ones they care for are people who manage to gain their favor (which usually amounts to anyone willing to buy them food. They don’t need to eat but human street food is delicious)

[oldtvandcomics]

I watched X-Men (2000) last evening. Still awesome. But also, it made me think.

Just how much *ehm* point is there in trying to keep bringing these heroes with us forward in time? Wouldn't it be better to leave them as a period piece?

Like, with the Holocaust being such an important part of Magneto's backstory, at least him and Xavier are pretty firmly anchored in time. And of course we can start making up all the excuses about why they are immortal / not ageing, but how much sense does it make? I also seem to be noticing an ongoing trend in newer X-Men media, at least on the big screen, where they aren't allowed to be traditional heroes any more, and instead all the focus is on the genocide. Which, I understand, that is 100% absolutely the direction the story is headed. Also, that post about how with the world being as it is, we can't really pretend any longer that Magneto is not right. So yes, I understand where they are coming from, but also, it isn't fun any more, is it?

Maybe the X-Men would be best as a period piece set somewhere between the 1960's and the early 2000's AT THE LATEST.