When people say superman is unrelatable and has no weaknesses i always get confused cuz like… he has plenty of relatable traits… certainly more than child billionaire bruce wayne (no disrespect intended)… and in a lot of ways they correlate with ones plenty of real people have:
>He grew up in a poor household as an only child
>His real parents and most of his family are dead
> 99% of his race is dead and he knows nothing about his heritage aside from what other people have told him
> he’s adopted
> his adopted father also died despite all his powers
> he’s Technically an illegal immigrant
> he probably grew up not knowing that anyone like him even existed
>he’s constantly hiding parts of who he really is, in both personas, unless he’s with people he trusts
>He was bullied in school and grew up as an outcast because of something he was born with
>despite having impermeable skin, he’s extremely sensitive to things like sound and sensory overload is something he’s had to deal with
> he tries his best to please people out of good nature AND fear that his new home would reject him otherwise
> and despite anything he may be dealing with, he still manages keep a smile on his face because he knows other people, including his closest freinds, need him to
Honestly, the only reason superman is written so flatly is because the straight white dudes writing him genuinely believe big muscles, good looks and steel skin are all you need to become immune to everything and anything. They don’t consider what life would REALLY be like for someone like kal and they end up failing to utilize any aspects of his character that could add true depth. And you know what? Sure. maybe superman is a boring superhero. but you’re not supposed to write him as a superhero anyway. you’re supposed to write him as person fist and foremost, who just happens to be a superhero. He doesn’t have batmans sense of duty and entitlement, or his lack of self preservation, his thirst for justice. And thats because his story isn’t about making a decision to become someone with great power.
It’s about unwillingly having it, not knowing what to do with it, and knowing it would be a crime to do nothing when all you really want is a normal life. Knowing people are counting on you to be exactly what they perceive you to be, what they NEED you to be, Even if it’s nearly impossible.
There’s a low, paint-chipped door in the corner of Alexei Mashkov’s living
room in Providence.
His agent tells him that the door used to connect to the apartment next to his,
a long time ago, when the structure had been one. The door leads to nowhere
now, only a wall of bricks. Alexei has even seen the wall of bricks in person,
when he requested the landlord open the door for fun. He’s always been curious,
after all, and the old, rusted key that the agent picks out from the cabinets
only added to that curiosity.
“You’ll get yourself into trouble one day, Lyosha,” his grandmother used to
tell him. Alexei had been young, perhaps seven or eight, when she warned him.
“Don’t ask so many questions, and try to be happy, or the spirits will see, and take you.” She
had said, “Don’t go through strange doors, and don’t follow voices, especially
if they sing to you.”
“What’s so bad about singing?” Alexei had demanded, in a petulant way only a
seven-year-old can manage. “I sing.”
“Yes, love, but they sing to
confuse you,” his grandmother had responded. “They sing of a life better than
the one you have, so you want to come to them. You see? They want to trick you
and steal you away.”
Of course, Alexei had thought her warning had been metaphorical, if not
slightly cryptic. She’d been old then, and easily confused. If you take out the
spirits part, the rest sound more or less logical. He figured that she doesn’t
want him talking to strangers and end up kidnapped, so Alexei had merely nodded
and promised her. No going in strange doors, no following the singing voice, not that there’d been any in his life. Until now.
The bricks are nothing special: the seams filled with cement, the corners dusty
with cobwebs. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but there’s a draft that only
Alexei can feel because when he mentions it to the agent, she only blinks in
“Why not lock it?” Alexei asks, when the agent pockets the old key and closes
the old, wooden door.
“Why should I?” the agent says, smiling. “The wall is bricked up. Not like
there’s anything that can come out. Now, let’s go to the kitchen. The structure
itself is a little old, almost 150 years, but it’s been recently remodeled.
It’s got a beautiful granite counter top—”
Alexei loves the house. But doesn’t know why he feels uneasy about the door. When he gets the keys to the house, he finds the rusted key again and locks the door.
i had a dream last night that i went into a donut shop to get donuts and superman was also in the donut store waiting for his order and i said "hi, clark" and he just looked at me with a wide eyed stare, said "hi" back and didn't question anything else and i just got my donut and left and im torn over whether or not this portrayal is accurate
clark not trying to rectify superman isn’t actually clark kent because all he wanted was a donut after not having eaten for 86 hours since brainiac is being a little bitch yet again and who the fuck is going to call him clark in a donut shop in the middle of fuck nowhere?
“My mom is better than yours” - Batmom x Damian Wayne
Summary : The Kent family have invited your family over for dinner, and of course, as usual, Damian and Jon don’t quite…behave.
I just wanted to write a short little cute fic with Damian and his mama because I just love the idea of Damian being super proud of his Batmom and blahblahblah maybe it’s a bit too long sorry. I hope you will like it :
Bruce thought it was extremely cute, how Damian’s eyes always seem to shine when looking at you. How his face brightens. Even how ashamed he is when you scold him when he’s too cocky, or simply being a plain brat.
The kid thought you were just the best damn thing on this planet.
He admired everything you did…
The Batman had to admit it, sometimes, he was a bit jealous.
But mostly, he just thought it was really cute, to see his boy completely accepting you as his mother. Hell, he was even calling you “Mama” (damn period dramas) now !
You were the one he considered his mom (Talia actually tried to kill you a few times because of that, jealous beyond everything of you and the love “her” son seemed to have for you…She tried harder when Damian told her that she was “never his mom”, that you showed him what a real mother was, and also, when she realized how in love Bruce was with you, while she had to drug him to get him to sleep with her…Yeah, pretty jealous. You always pulled through though, mostly thanks to your boys, husband and superfriends).
Well, to be honest, he never doubted the fact that you’d get along with him. You had a special effect on people. If you really put your mind to it, you can convince anyone to do what you want, you can win anyone’s heart in a little flutter of your damn beautiful eyelashes…
When Damian first met you, he was most disagreeable, and you…grounded him. “Young man, in your room, no dessert for you tonight”, and he was so stunned that he did it, though he didn’t even listen to his father at the time, and thought he knew everything better than everyone ! He knew you only for a few minutes, and he already had more respect for you than for anyone else.
Sometimes, Bruce suspected that you might be a meta-human, because the power you could have over people with your magnificent aura was…something. But he tested you in every way possible, and he had to admit that, you were just like him. A simple human. A simple human with incredible abilities.
Yes. Bruce always thought it was extremely cute the way his son, your son to the both of you, almost worshipped you.
Well, your older kids did too. Again, there was just a way about you…
You started dating Bruce when he first took young Richard Grayson in, about twelve years ago (right after Talia drugged him actually), when he was barely 8 years old and heartbroken because of his parents’ death…And though you were merely twenty, quite younger than Bruce really, you took your job as a surrogate mother for Dick very seriously. Quickly, the boy asked you if he could call you mom, if his own mother would be mad and…well, the hug you gave him was answer enough. Though he was twenty and had his own flat in Bludhaven now, Dick was still quite the momma’s boy.
It was pretty much the same with Jason. You winked at him and told him it was pretty cool and brave to try and steal the batmobile’s wheels, and boom, you had him wrapped around your little fingers. He lived for your bedtime stories and cuddle when he had trouble sleeping.
Tim was even easier to treat you like his mom. After only a few months he was already introducing you as his mother, and that was that. Just natural. Unlike Jason and Dick, his birth mother wasn’t exactly…the best, and you gave him a chance to have a real mom. One that would die for her son, do anything for him, even if it meant staying up all night to sing him soothing songs while he had the flu, putting ridiculous costumes to go trick or treating with him, or, more recently, since he was now 15 (already ?!), gaming with him until you’d both pass out out of exhaustion.
Quite like Tim, Damian never had the love of a “real” mother. How it should be. The mom taking care of her son, no matter what. Not letting him do whatever he wants, but making sure he’s happy…and so, just like his older brothers before him, he came to simply adore you.