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#stop disrespecting my son
egg-baby-official · 4 months
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Every time someone calls Oliver by the wrong name an angel loses its wings... 😔
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sage-nebula · 2 years
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Something I wonder about is whether Metal Sonic / Overlord calling Tails "unworthy child" will ever be followed up on.
On the one hand, this happened so long ago that it would almost feel weird to bring it up now. On the other, it's such a cutting, damnig criticism that throwing it in and then doing nothing with it feels like there was a story that was intended but cut. It's hard to believe this was just put in there for no reason.
A huge part of Tails' backstory is that he has always looked up to, and wanted to be a hero like, Sonic. And he has felt at times that he falls short of this. His theme from the Adventure games touches on this: "I wanna be strong, I wanna be trusted [. . .] I wanna be cool, I also wanna be like him / but that's not something I can do so easily." His arc in the Adventure games is about him becoming a hero in his own way. He saves Station Square in SA1, he throws (mecha) hands with Eggman in solo showdowns multiple times in SA2, the final time coming right after he's made to believe Eggman just killed Sonic right in front of him. (Which is why his treatment in Forces is so infuriating, but! This is not the post for that.) Tails doesn't have Sonic's strengths, but that's okay, because he has his own strengths that Sonic doesn't have, and his Adventure theme touches on this, too. "There are things only I can do."
But although Tails does become a hero in his own right, and has so much more confidence in his strengths now than he used to, I think he could still struggle with the thought that he's not enough sometimes. As much as I fucking hate what Forces did to him, this arc in the comics still does directly follow Forces, wherein Sonic was captured and Tails couldn't do anything to help him. What does that say about him? How does that make him feel? Is he good enough? Does he deserve to be at Sonic's side?
The use of the word "unworthy" is a deliberate one. Metal isn't calling Tails stupid, or weak, or slow, or anything else that could be an easily dismissable, shallow insult. He's calling him unworthy. He's saying, maybe you are smart, fast, or strong. Maybe you can build computers and pilot airships and maybe even crash one into me. But you are still not good enough. You are still an unworthy child. It's such a deliberate precision strike against Tails' insecurities. Metal wasn't just lashing out. He somehow knew just how to hurt Tails and he stabbed into that squishy weak spot with extreme prejudice.
And then . . . nothing ever came of it.
Of course, literally 2 pages later we had Sonic hyping Tails up:
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So maybe that's why. Metal called him unworthy, but Sonic called what he did amazing. So . . . problem solved? I wouldn't think so, but I'm also not on the creative team for these comics, so 🤷‍♀️ If I was, Tails wouldn't be referred to as a "sidekick" in his cast blurb while everyone else gets to be called a hero (or heroine), lol.
But anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this. It's just something I was thinking about as I try to sleep despite my illness making that difficult.
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nevesmose · 2 months
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All Nostraman music from every genre and time period just sounds like this:
youtube
And if you mention it they'll just give you this face:
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and act like you're the weird one for noticing.
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gazpachoandbooks · 2 years
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Theon in the not-so-distant future:
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monstersinthecosmos · 2 years
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anyway I think Assad Zaman is lovely and he nails the Armand Deadpan™ and has perfect hair LOL I just think like it's silly that he's 38 years old and the reveal is extremely bad writing. I don't trust this team to write him at all, and they've already changed a lot of the stuff in the story that removes or changes his narrative function and there's a lot of other glaring deficits in the writing of S1 that really damaged my trust in them to pull it off or be respectful. I'm sure I'll complain about it a lot for the foreseeable future. :)
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todayisafridaynight · 8 months
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Gun to your head and microphone on your mouth... is Kasuga Ichiban hung?
yeah
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ccaptain · 2 years
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   he knows that, realistically, they will have to fight. it’s only fair for two people who keep all their schemes and secrets between teeth, clenching their jaws to never let the words escape. throughoughly similiar, forever doomed to be bonded by blood. 
   he doesn’t know which one will raise the sword first, but he knows that they’ll clash, sooner or later.
   and both outcomes would be fine with him, really. he can either manage to subdue his father, and make him spit the informations kaeya has so longed for ━ or kaeya alberich’s life will be snuffed out by stronger hands. in either way, he will manage a ripple effect that will damage many...
   ... including childe.
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   he looks down at the sleeping form of his lover, brows furrowed in thought. a curl of ginger hair has ended up on his forehead, and is swiftly tucked away among strands, the touch delicate and chilly. 
   doesn’t he know already? he guesses that, if he told his plan, childe would encourage him to become stronger with a smile. and, if push came to shove, he knows that he’d stand at his side to fight. perhaps they’ll both perish ━ and wouldn’t it be unfair, terribly so? childe has so much to live for. so much to do, so many more occasions to grow... to halt his progresses for kaeya would be an injustice. he isn’t worth a life, even worse if it’s two.
   so he will hold this plan off, despite fate pressing at the back of his skull like an headache
   a lot of the things he does have come to be for ajax.
   he finds out, snuggling back into his warm shoulder, that surviving for ajax’s sake isn’t so bad.
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pucksandpower · 1 month
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MILF
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that
Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things
Based on this request
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“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.
Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.
Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.
You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.
Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”
“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”
Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”
Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.
“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”
“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.
“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”
You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”
“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”
Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.
“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”
“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”
You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”
Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.
You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”
Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”
You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”
Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”
Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”
You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”
The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.
After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.
You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.
Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.
You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”
“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”
Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”
You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.
“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”
You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.
Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.
Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.
You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.
“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.
You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.
“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.
Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”
No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.
You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.
***
The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.
“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.
You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”
The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.
You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.
“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.
You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”
“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”
You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.
“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”
Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”
You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”
“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”
You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.
They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.
“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”
“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.
Too smoothly.
You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.
Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”
The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.
“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.
Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”
The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.
“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”
The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.
Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”
“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”
He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.
Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”
“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”
You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”
He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”
You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.
He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.
“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”
Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”
He grins. “Proudly.”
Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.
“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.
Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.
The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.
Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”
The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.
“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”
After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”
Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.
You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??
anyway
Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”
“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*
“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks
"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.
Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.
"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"
Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."
"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.
How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?
"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"
Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."
Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."
Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.
And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.
The perfect heir.
It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.
"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."
"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"
"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."
"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.
The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.
"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.
He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."
"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.
"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.
Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.
It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.
"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.
"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.
"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"
"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.
A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.
He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"
"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."
"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.
"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"
"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.
Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.
"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.
Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.
"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.
His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.
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rboooks · 1 year
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Child Support Part 2
Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.
Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.
They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?
Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.
Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)
It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.
"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.
Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.
"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.
Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."
"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."
"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.
Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."
Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.
But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.
If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.
Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.
"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."
The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"
Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."
A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."
Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."
Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?
"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.
Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.
He can't wait to tease Damian later.
"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.
"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.
"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.
"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.
Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.
"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"
Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"
"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.
He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.
"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."
"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"
"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.
"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug
"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."
"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.
Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."
Then the man vanishes in a green portal.
There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."
Tim wants to take a nap.
( Part 1 )
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mssainz · 16 days
Text
PART 10 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: Quite long
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“So you're telling me Y/N had Cael the same year you two got divorced? Wow, this is making five years ago more interesting than it should be,” Blanca said, making Carlos facepalm. “Come on Blancs, stop making it feel like celebrity gossip or something,” Carlos replied to his sister.
“What? It looks like it. She's busy, you cheated, things got sour, she had your baby, you were depressed, and now after five years you meet again. How juicy is that,” Blanca said, summarizing what happened to them. Carlos Sr., on the other hand, is just laughing at his children conversing about Carlos' life intently, like it's a business proposal. Reyes is also listening to them, curious about the story behind everything.
“So, you got what you want now, Blancs? Can I go to sleep?” Carlos said, wanting to get away from his sister. “Nah ah, how did you two meet here? And, how are things going now? I need details,” Blanca replied, leaving Carlos no choice but to explain.
After explaining, Carlos let out his realization, “You know what? I'm gonna repeat this whole thing again to Ana tomorrow, Dios mio, you two,” Carlos said, knowing that his little sister will still be there tomorrow morning and will be asking the exact same question as she did. “Not my problem,” Blanca replied, tapping his shoulder before walking to her room.
“That's it? No thank you Carlos for the gossip?” Blanca only ignores him and proceeds to open the door. Carlos let out a sigh before kissing his parents goodnight and going into his own room. He texted you first before going to sleep and having a nighful rest.
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“Mama, Grandpapa’s house is huge,” Cael said out of amusement, making you smile. You can't help but to reminisce about your memories here. The first time you met Carlos' family. You were freezing scared that time but you didn't expect how warm they would welcome you into their family. It got to the point that Ana is more close to you than Carlos.
“Y/N! Hija I missed you!” Reyes greets you with a warm hug. “I missed you too Reyes.” You replied.
“Nah ah, since when did I become Reyes to you? It's Mama for you, divorced or not divorced. I will be your second mom, darling,” Reyes said, eliciting a smile from you.
I'm happy that you want me to call you that. But, am I even allowed to call you Mama and Papa? Isn't that disrespectful to his other girl? Not like she deserves respect.
“Where's our little sainz?” Reyes asks. “Oh, he insisted on helping Carlos get some food in the trunk. As if he could help him,” you said, chuckling.
Reyes squeals as she sees Cael walking Carlos towards you two. Carlos has Cael hand in his hand and some food on the other. “He really looks like Carlos when he was young,” Reyes says and was about to cry. She then offered Cael a hug, a hug that Cael slowly returned. Cael gave her a smile. “Oh you have the cutest smile ever, my love,” Reyes said and offered her hand to Cael.
“Where's Blancs, Mama?” Carlos asked, wondering where his sister was. “Oh she's with your father in the kitchen. Ana's still not here but she'll be here in a few minutes,” Reyes replied and walked with Cael inside the house.
You walked beside Carlos to ask him something. “Blanca’s here? And so is Ana?” You whispered to him. “Yes they are here. They are so excited to meet him,” Carlos also replied in a whisper.
“Really?” You said. “Yeah, they are more excited and happy about meeting him than knowing that I just won a GP yesterday,” Carlos said, making you grin and shake your head.
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“OMG! YN!” Ana immediately hugged you as soon as she entered the house ignoring Carlos who's arms wide open for her. She shed some tears of joy as she embraced you. “Oh my God! I miss you sis!” Ana said between your hugs. Carlos, on the other hand, slowly and awkwardly put his hand back to his side, making Blanca laugh.
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“Where's little sainz?” Ana asked you. “He's here,” Reyes replied, holding Cael who is seated at the counter top watching his Auntie Blanca and Grandpa Carlos cook some food.
“Hold these,” Ana said, giving Carlos the huge bags she was holding. “What the hell are these Ana?” Carlos said as the bags she gave are kinda heavy. “Oh a few toys for Cael,” Ana said while smooching his nephew.
“Few toys? Looks like you brought the whole toy section,” Carlos said as he opened the bags full of various toys, mostly cars.
Now I know. It's definitely not me nor Carlos who is gonna spoil Cael. It's his Auntie Ana along with his hella rich godfathers.
“No wonder, you only came now,” Blanca said. “Yes sis. I gotta be the favorite auntie here,” Ana replied, making her older sister crack.
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Seating Arrangement
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“Sevi, what do you want? Auntie will get it for you,” Ana asks. “Sevi?” Blanca confusely asked. “It's my special nickname for my baby,” Ana replied, eliciting chuckles from everyone on the table.
“What are you up to now, Yn?” Reyes asks.
“I'm working in the hospital again as an attending physician,” You replied.
“What about Cael? Who takes care of him when you're at work?” Blanca asked, staring at you.
“Oh, we're living with my Mom. So she takes care of him during the day. But, I have a more flexible schedule now than during my residency. I can really spend time with him mostly,” you replied to her.
Blanca just nodded. You noticed that Carlos and Blanca are glaring at each other after that question. He simply shook his head at her and she just continued with her food.
Okay, what was that for?
On the other hand, Ana is busy watching Cael eat his food. “Where are you staying, darling?” Reyes asked you. “We're staying at an Airbnb,” you kindly replied. “Eh? You're not staying at your old house?” Ana asked, making you look at Carlos.
Our old house? I thought you sold it.
“It's still there. He often stays at your house more than here whenever he is in Madrid,” Blanca said.
“Really? I didn't know,” You replied. “There's a lot of things you don't know,” Blanca whispered. “What did you say?” Ana said. “Nothing, I'm not saying anything,” Blanca replied. But you clearly heard her.
What are you talking about Blanca?
The table was filled with stories, catching up with each other. Cael occasionally tells stories that make everyone smile. It feels like everything is okay, like you are just a happy family. But you're not. You know that there are unsettled issues that still need to be addressed.
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Carlos, Cael, and Ana are busy unboxing the toys she bought while you and Blanca are watching them at the porch. Seeing your boys so happy makes your heart elated.
This was my dream, to see you with our child. You were my dream Carlos. Not until you became my nightmare.
“If you weren't cheating,” you whispered, accidentally letting your thoughts out. “Did you think he filed a divorce to be with her, the other girl?” Blanca asked her.
“Why?” you replied, making Blanca chuckle. “Well, I can't blame you if you believe that. But trust me, she wasn't.” she said.
If she was not the reason. Why did he leave me? Why, Carlos?
“Mama, I know how to control it now!” Cael yelled, pertaining to his new remote control monster truck. You saw Carlos smiling at you too. “Okay Sevi, let’s race, you, me, and your Papa. If I win you’re gonna sleep in my room. If your Papa wins, you’ll get to sleep beside him in his room. But, if you win, you can choose whoever you wanna be with tonight. Okay?” Ana suggested. “Okay!” Cael responded cheerfully.
“So who do you wanna be with tonight?” Carlos asks Cael. “Eh Papa, that’s a secret,” Cael said, refusing to tell his father. This makes Carlos and Ana both laugh.
You badly want to ask him why. Why did he leave you? But you were scared about what he had to say. You were scared about talking more about the past. It is a memory that you really want to dig in off the ground.
“You two fix your shits. And I know, you know what I'm talking about. If you can't be together, at least be friends, for Cael,” Blanca seriously said before leaving you at the porch.
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AN: Here's another part. It's quite long huhu, sorry. I'm updating as much as I can before I get too busy. I hope you like this one. Let me know your thoughts and if you wanna be added in the taglist. I really appreciate your comments, likes, and messages. Thank y'all.
TAGLIST:
@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo @eiaaasamantha
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next part
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enha-doodles · 4 days
Note
Heyya I love your works 💗💗 and I was wondering if u u could do Slytherin boys reacting to the reader being a muggleborn 🥹
Classic yk🕺🏻🕺🏻
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A MUGGLEBORN | ✧⁺。
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Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore , Lorenzo , Draco) x muggleborn!reader
Note : tysm bestie 🤪🤪✨ also that is such a classic request !!!
Warnings : mentions of fighting , toxicness in Tom's (I mean?)
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
Yes , he's got this thing against Muggle-borns, but if it's you, he's willing to put on his big boy pants and overlook it. But don't you dare insult his girl's blood status, or else you'll witness a show even Voldemort himself would be proud of! Picture it: a bunch of Slytherin wannabes start spouting nonsense about you not being worthy of Mattheo because he's the Dark Lord's spawn, and well you're just a stupid mudblood.
That sets Mattheo off like a firecracker! He goes all Hulk mode, smashing and bashing until they're all groveling at his feet. "Stay in your fucking place, you piece of shit, or else you won't live to tell the tale of Voldemort's son representing the Dark Lord himself!" He's a total hotie in fight mode btw
TOM RIDDLE
Now, Tom's got issues. He's got this whole orphanage baggage weighing him down, but deep down, he's just a lovesick puppy because he never received any. Sure, he hates the whole blood status talk, but he loves you more than he hates it. And merlin, does he have a way of showing it! He'll dominate and control like it's his daily job, but common, it's all out of love, right? And if anyone dares to even look at you funny, bam! It's going to be a hex city, and guess whose the population ? them.
But if you try to disobey or disrespect him he won't hesitate to return to his true self , he'd grab your chin harshly and menacingly whisper, "You're just a filthy mudblood, know your place. Here, God isn't your lord. I am."
THEODORE NOTT
hmm, Theodore, the rebel with a cause. He's not like his father , nothing like him at all and he constantly wants to prove it , this is just one of those things that help him show you and others that he's different.He couldn't care less about blood status drama. Nope, if he loves you, he loves ALL of you, flaws and all.
He'd threaten everyone around that you're his girl and if anyone says anything to you or if they try to hurt you then they'd be found dead before they can say sorry . "Get this in your stupid ass head, you dick - you mess with her, you mess with me and remember I don't pull bunnies out of a hat ."
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
Lorenzo's like that curious cat who just can't resist poking his nose into everything. Muggle stuff? Fascinating! Like Theodore he wouldn't mind . He'd actually ask more about how it's there and all the technology intrigues him but he'd still be on about how magic is better . He would support you all the time and try to indulge in stuff to make you feel better .
Would threaten his friends to be mindful of their words around you because you're very dear to him and he wouldn't mind a punch to two if it means you're protected "Hey hey hey , watch it or I won't!"
DRACO MALFOY
Draco, return of the drama queen of Slytherin lmao . He'll start off all high and mighty, spouting hurtful things left, right, and center. But when reality hits and you stop talking to him , he realizes he's messed up, cue the banging at your door , sputtering out apologies and the gifts galore - rich boy lowkey buying his way out but you can't complain because he's got all your favourite stuff .
Draco would kinda joke to lighten the mood "God, I love you, but my father cannot hear about this." Classic Draco, am I right?
。    ✧    ⁺     。
TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
Text
In honor of Easter...
Eddie Munson can't sleep. Maybe it was the almost expired can of spaghetti that he had for dinner, maybe it's the new campaign he's itching to plan, maybe it's being back in the Hawkins High with yet another fight for graduation he's bound to lose because his literature teacher was yet another victim of Danny Munson's petty crimes, and what better revenge than to repeatedly fail his son that Danny lost to social services ten years ago?
Or maybe it's the weird rustling under his window.
Now Eddie, he's a survivor. He runs, yes, but that's because there's nothing to protect. His honor? Oh please.
But if there's someone trying to break into the only real home he's ever known? That's different.
He grabs an empty beer bottle that he's been intending to throw out for a week or so and heroically - and stupidly - jumps out of his window. He expects to maybe land into a bush. Do a superhero landing or something.
What he doesn't expect is a pained wheeze and "what the fuck?!" yelled by his landing zone.
Eddie scrambles back to his feet and raises the bottle. Perhaps he should have broken it first to make it more threatening? He swings it against the trailer wall and it shatters almost completely, leaving with a small ring of glass in hand.
The figure he landed on curses again and tries to scramble back on their feet.
Eddie raises the pitiful remains of the bottle. "Uh. Stop you...you scoundrel!" he threatens, except it doesn't sound like a threat, more like a plea. "Or I'll stab you with this..." he looks at the glass ring again, "...with this."
He hopes the intruder will flee. More likely, he's going to be jumped, punched and killed. But what Eddie absolutely does not expect is the town's pretty boy, Steve Harrington, dusting his knees and glaring at Eddie with hands on hips like a pissed off soccer mom. "Jesus Christ, Munson, are you trying to wake up the whole park?" he hisses.
Eddie suddenly feels very stupid. He lets go of the broken bottle and it lands in the dirt with a quiet clink. "Harrington? Uh...dude, I mean no disrespect and all, but why are you under my window?"
Steve's look could kill. "It's Easter tomorrow, what do you think I'm doing? Hiding eggs." He points to the basket full of eggs nearby.
It makes sense. Except it doesn't. Eddie pokes the eggs and they don't explode, so at least that's good. "Why on earth would you, Steve "the Hair" Harrington, be hiding eggs in a trailer park? Don't you have like, a fancy neighborhood to do this in? With Belgian chocolate eggs and champaigne for the bored moms and stuff like that?"
Steve sighs and runs fingers through his hair. Eddie notices with a pang of guilt that it's flattened where his foot landed. That's also a good moment to realize that he's only in his boxers and a t-shirt and barefoot.
But Steve doesn't seem to notice. He just vaguely gestures around. "Those neighborhoods have committees and stuff like that. And it's normal there. Look, I don't think local kids have a lot of good stuff going on. I know one of them, and she deserves to have one day like a normal kid, no worries, no thinking if her mom can afford it. So I'm preparing an egg hunt here. Or I was, before someone half-naked dropped on top of me and shattered a bottle over a pretty good hiding spot I found."
"Shit! Sorry!" Eddie immediately starts picking up the shards, or at least tries to in the dark. At least until a large hand grabs his own.
"Christ, Munson! Stop!" Steve hisses. "Do you want to cut yourself? I will just move the egg somewhere else and pick up the glass before it starts in the morning. And for fuck's sake, stop moving! Do you want to step on a shard?"
That finally calms Eddie down. He sighs and hangs his head down. "You know, Harrington, one might think you're a good dude. If one wasn't careful."
Steve nudges his side. "One should be careful. Now come on, I will give you a boost." When Eddie stares at him, he adds: "to your window. You want to go back to sleep, no?"
Eddie clears his throat. "Actually, I was thinking I'd love to grab my sneakers and help you, I know a lot of good hiding spots. Is that cool?"
Harrington thinks for a moment, then he nods. "Yep, cool. Now, do you need a lift?"
Back in the familiar clutter of his bedroom, Eddie thinks it was a fever dream, a hallucination from a food poisoning, the final revenge of the spaghetti can.
But then he hears Harrington whisper after him: "Don't you dare come out without those sneakers, Munson! No bare feet are getting near shattered glass on my watch!"
And Eddie just snickers, leans out of the window and whispers back: "For you, big boy? I'll even wear pants!"
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
Text
i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1
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summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.
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There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 
You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 
Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 
His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  
His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 
(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”
“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”
Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)
If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 
(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)
In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?
Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 
But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 
He wasn’t like this before.
A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 
He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 
But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.
Mom did. 
She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.
Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.
Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 
Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  
Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 
“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”
Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”
Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”
“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”
“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”
“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”
“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”
“And mine isn’t?”
He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”
“Why?”
There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’
And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 
“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 
“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”
You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”
And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 
The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.
“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”
“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 
“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 
“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“
“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 
A beat. 
Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 
All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 
You just stared at him. 
“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”
You froze. “What?”
“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”
“Father—”
“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 
But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 
“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”
You didn’t want this. 
“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 
“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”
“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 
“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”
Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 
“Jake!”
That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.
His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.
Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 
Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 
Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.
The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."
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tvgals · 11 months
Text
‘ BARBIE WORLD ! ‘
the spider teen group w a black barbie reader !!
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MILES MORALES —
he was stunned that he pulled you to say the least
imagine when he took you home..
you and miles stand outside of his parents apartment. “and make sure you don’t call them by their first names, they hate that!” miles tells you, biting his bottom lip when he sees you knocking on the door. “i know, miles. i’m not disrespectful!” you giggle, hearing the door unlock. you’re met face to face with a brown skinned woman with her curly hair braided, laying on her shoulder. her face seems to light up when she sees the two of you. “miles!” she beams, engulfing him in a hug, when she pulls away and turns to you, she brings her hands to her chest and smiles. “and you must be y/n! miles talks so much about you!” she says, you smile and look at miles, his face flushed with embarrassment. “these are for you, mrs morales!” you grin, handing her the bouquet of azaleas. “for me? thank you so much!” she thanks you, softly grasping the stems and welcoming you two in. you see miles’ dad sitting at the table, scrolling though his phone. “dad!” miles blurts out, waiting to get his attention. once he looks up, his eyes go wide. “who’s that?” jeff asks, looking around the room just in case this was some prank.
“dad, this is my girlfriend y/n.” miles sheepishly grins, you sending a happy wave his way. jeff stares for a moment. his awkward, teenage son, was able to get a girlfriend like you? no way! “jeff, don’t just stare at the poor girl!” rio laughs. this was gonna be a long night .
HOBIE BROWN —
he loves it
the opposites attract always gets me !!
hobie watched you as you struggled to put on your favorite pair of pink chunky heels onto your feet, your annoyed groans ringing out the room. “baby!” you yell out into the apartment, hoping your boyfriend would just walk in and put your shoe on for you. you think for a second. you’ve worked multiple engineering jobs as an intern, you’ve studied multiple languages and worked many jobs, and you’re currently letting a shoe disrespect you? hobie walked in and bit back a smile at your determined face.
“love, let me help-“ hobie is cut off with a stern, “no” from you, putting your manicured hand up to stop any movement from him getting closer. “princess, just let me help.” hobie chuckles, crouching onto the floor next to you. “no! i can do it by myself. i am a strong, independent woman!” you sputter out, pushing your foot into the shoe. “bam.” you say, looking at hobie’s smiling face. now onto the next shoe.
PAVITR PRABHAKAR —
he lovessss your style
definitely helps you with makeup
“pavi!” you call out to your boyfriend, who was casually hanging off of a web from the ceiling. “yes?” he calls back to you, flipping onto his feet and walking into the bathroom where you were applying your false lashes. “baby, will you go to the mall with me?” you ask, fanning your hand in front of your eyes to dry the lash glue.
“of course! why would i say no to a pretty girl like you?” pavitr says, walking behind you and resting his chin on your head. “pavi, i need to talk to you.” you say, your tone serious and solid. pavitr gets worried, he’s never heard this tone from you like this, not so..strict and firm. “oh no…what is it?” pavitr mumbles, trailing his hands onto your waist, now moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck.
“it’s very important, like i’m talking end of our relationship if you say the wrong answer, important.” you warn him, pulling lipsticks out of your makeup bag. “now you’re scaring me.” pavitr chuckles. “what is it?” you look at him through the mirror and hold up two lipsticks, “rose red or like a light pink?” you ask, turning to actually face him. “jeez, y/n! you can’t scare me that way!” pavitr giggles, dramatically holding a hand over his heart. “but definitely rose red.”
GWEN STACY —
gwen watches you style the wig on the mannequins head, walking over to take a better look. “what are you doing?” she asks you, watching you shimmy the hair curler from the dark brown wig. “styling my wig for this party tomorrow. wanna help?” you ask, inviting her to sit down in the chair in place of you. gwen sits down and you hand her the curler, placing your hand on top of hers.
“so you gotta put the hair into this little part right here and hold it there for like…eight seconds for looser curls. that’s how i like mine.” you shrug, watching her face contort in concentration. when gwen let’s go, a perfect curl emits from the curler, you smile and give her a hug.
“see? you’re a natural!”
TAGLIST ; — @venusluvslove @kisminarii @xricly @ohsanghoe @conniesbbymama @6olar @cupids-soul @sza-luvrrr @gobblethiskitty @lovedsolana @maniacvell @stellabunniii @theyfwkayla14 @radicaledward55 @bbytamaki @princess-hellokitty @hellomyearthlings @eva7ari @draculara-vonvamp @jared-oranges
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AITA for being hypocritical about what people call me?
I (19ftm) am blasian, but to anyone not paying close attention I'm black. I am very young looking on account of the gender and being 19. As such, I get called "boy" or "son" a lot, depending on how much the person respects me, and I hate it.
Recently I was hanging out at my place with my close friend (18M, white) and I absentmindedly dropped something. He said "what are you doing, boy?" In a kind of half angry/half playful tone, but it still made me feel nauseous. I told him don't call me that, it's disrespectful. He rolled his eyes and said not to make a big deal out of it. I doubled down, saying you shouldn't call any black or trans man "boy" as it's infantilizing. He said I was being hypocritical, as I let both my dad and my boyfriend call me boy.
I snapped, saying of course I let my dad call me boy. He's my fucking dad. I don't mind when he does it. He has that power and authority over me and I trust him not to abuse it. Also he's a southern black man in his late 40s, I'd have better luck trying to get a fish to breathe air than him stop speaking the way he does.
As for my boyfriend (21M, white), I actually like when he does it. But it's because he adds an adjective to the front of it like pretty boy, or he calls me his boy. I do the same for him. It's a term of endearment.
He didn't seem convinced and kept pressing saying he had known me for years, did I not trust him? I got so uncomfortable that I asked him to leave, and he called me an asshole before storming out.
Was I TA?
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