pick-yourself-up

  • Prince: ...Are you crying?
  • Thomas: No, I'm just sweating.
  • Prince: I don't know who's got you upset, but my advice is... stop crying.
  • Thomas: I'm not crying; I'm just sweating.
  • Prince: Look, you need to pick yourself up. Man up, alright? You will win this in the end. It's all about heart, and character. Be your best self.
  • Thomas: Okay.
  • Prince: Yeah.
  • [Thomas leaves]
  • Prince: ...I have no idea what his problem is, that's just my standard advice. It's good advice, right?
1. Go to a party and stay sober. Listen to the way your drunk classmates talk when they don’t plan to remember tonight when they wake up. Never talk about these experiences, just keep them for yourself.
2. Start driving in one direction on the highway after school one day, pretending like you’re running away. Blast bad pop music and sing along. Stop in the suburbs when your mom calls you to come home, but buy your little brother a cupcake before you turn back around.
3. Kiss your best friend. It doesn’t matter what sexuality or gender you are or they are. It doesn’t matter if it’s a peck or you escalate to tongue. You’ll laugh about it later, but it will always make you smile just for the memory.
4. Smoke a cigarette. Let it burn your throat. Cough, loudly.
5. Take a stand for something you believe in. When half your school laughs at you, take it with pride. Someone agrees, even if they’re too scared to say so.
6. Make enemies. Make the kind of mistakes that cause your life to implode. Lose everyone and everything to these mistakes. Only when you fall will you find out that you can pick yourself back up.
7. Sit on someone’s roof and talk for hours. Forget about dinner and tell your origin stories. Let your guard down while the dog barks below. Talk about god. Listen.
8. Steal Bourbon from your parents’ liquor cabinet and put it in a water bottle beneath your bathroom sink. Spike your tea with it when you think you’ve hit rock bottom. Pour the whole thing down the drain when it’s too strong for you.
9. Become a stereotype. Buy a record player and combat boots. Wear all black. Dye your hair bright blue and get your ear pierced three times. Don’t care when people laugh at you.
10. Make wishes at 11:11. Wear your pajamas backwards in the hopes of a snow day. Look for answers at the bottom of a bottle. Pretend writing things on your arms makes you special. Believe in anything. Believe in everything. Open every book and look around every corner. You’ll never look like this or move like this or think like this again. Enjoy it while it lasts or hate every second. But feel. Feel every damn thing.

🌻may 18 - 21 spread

it’s okay to put off stuff in your to do list as long as you promise to pick yourself up and start with a new day

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
stuff used in this spread
+ muji 0.38 hexagonal pen
+ faber castell ecco pigment 0.3
+ artline stix in yellow
+ info sticky notes
+ pilot petit 3 fude pen in black

also!! check out ongoing ask lists on the #askhannh tag and send me one ✨

A day will come when your days will be unbearably too long, your nights will be too quiet, and the floor will feel too cold on your skin, and you won’t have any other choice but to pick yourself up, kick your feet up, and rise up again.

Because really, how long will you stay down, waiting, crying, and moping around when you’re the only one who can decide to save yourself?
—  cynthia go // Rise up
A letter to all women
You are valuable. You were created to be light in this world, to bring joy, and on days that you can’t even pick yourself up, to let others know that life does not end there. That it’s also okay to break down for a little while, that we’ve all been there. Woman, you are free. Pay no attention to those, even fellow sisters, that tell you what to wear, what to do, how many boys or girls you can kiss before you officially become a slut, before you become used or impure. Do whatever feels right, feel whatever you truly want. Pay no attention to those who are capable of making the same mistakes as you but think they’re too perfect to ever fail. And maybe those mistakes aren’t even mistakes. Maybe it was just you, growing into the dazzling woman that you’re meant to be, maybe it was another experience in the book of all the things that you’ve done and that are to come. Maybe it was a lesson. Pay no attention to those that say you’re not as worthy as them, to those that tell you that you can’t be successful, smart enough, good enough, pretty enough. Rage. Fight. Live, breathe and cling to what you not only think but know that is fair, and not only fair, but merely human. Speak up. Resist. Engage, communicate and develop your right to rule your own body, to wear whatever you want knowing that if a person gets angry at you for being “provocative” it’s only their problem because they’re not enough of a respectful person to understand that you’re not “asking for it”, you’re just living. Wear whatever you want knowing that if someone makes fun of you, mistreats you or abuses you in any way because you chose to cover yourself up or dress yourself down, they just weren’t raised right, they just don’t know what it’s like to view things from different perspectives or just to be you. Shout. Protest. Be displeased, rebel and say no to people that think they have any kind of control over you. It’s your choice who you want to be with, it’s your choice if you want to keep the baby, it’s your choice if today you don’t want to go to the party, it’s your choice if you want to wear the sweatpants or the tight dress. It’s your choice if you’re going to let others rule your life or be enslaved by this intolerant world. Let your sisters know that we can’t afford to put each other down anymore. We can’t afford to keep on slut shaming when all we’re asking for is respect and we’re not giving it back, or setting the example to do so. We can’t afford to verbally abuse one another when all me might have needed was a little advice and a lot of support. We need to be there for every single woman out there because no one else is going to fight for equality or be informed of what equality really means, if we can’t even come together and stop fighting with each other instead of fighting towards a fair, respectful, equal and dignified world. Stop thinking that there’s already too many of us fighting for the cause and that you’re not needed, there aren’t enough people. We need every single woman helping, giving advice, letting people know of this injustice that we’re living, that not only because you’re comfortable and everyone accepts you as you are, does it mean that somewhere else in the world there aren’t girls who are not even allowed to dream. We stop being free when we give up our control. We stop being free when we remain quiet. We stop being free when we stand by and watch others live what you should or want to be living. We stop being free when we let comfort and tranquility seduce us into a life of nothingness. Be released.
—  macsun //m.ch
You said you could not possibly go on, that this would be the end of you, but still you picked yourself up and went on. You went on and on and got yourself through it all. So tell me, what else can you not do? What else is there that can stop you?
—  Lukas W. // You can do it
Sometimes, no amount of love can save you. Sometimes, love loses the battle against reality. Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, you need to let go, let them live; without you. It’s always hard, and these stained cheeks, heavy breathing, damp pillows and tired eyes would haunt you for a while, only as long as you allow it. No matter how much you’re determined to pick yourself up from rock bottom, no matter how many times you tell yourself you’re over it, no matter how happy you are for them, some days, just some days, it hits you. That there’s a thin line between what you’re fighting for and what you’re fighting against. Cause you know that even if you chose to fight for love every single day, Sometimes, you can’t fight against fate. Cause you know, that sometimes, just sometimes; no amount of love can save you.

okay, so. the thing that kills me about Wonder Woman is that it’s so, so absurdist, and in the best way. all of the characters except diana go into the entire thing knowing that the war might never end, that the people in charge of their armies don’t give a flying fuck about what happens to the people on the ground, that everything they do might not even matter in the long run. steve even says when he’s on themyscira that it seems like the world’s going to end.

one of the most famous lines by camus (who was an absurdist) is “in the middle of winter i at last discovered that there was in me an invincible summer.” the entire point of absurdism is staring into the void and saying, “no, i refuse.” the world is empty and bleak and meaningless, and you could choose to be nihilist about that, or you could pick yourself up and create the meaning you want to see. and that’s what all of the characters in wonder woman do.

when he gets in that plane steve knows, he knows, that they still might not win the war. he knows diana might not be able to kill ares. he knows dr. poison might still escape. he knows that people are still going to die. and you know what? he gets in the plane anyway. he stares into the face of a war that might never end and says, well, i can save today. and that is what matters. 

sam and chief and charlie watch their friend run toward a plane and know he’s on a suicide mission (that might not even save the war!) and they yell to stop him at first and then they cover him like he asked them to because even when they hate it, they respect his ability to make his own decisions and they hold up their end of the deal. they risk their lives helping him risk his because it’s what they signed up to. it’s what they should do. 

when diana leaves themyscira, she knows she might not live to come back. sure, her character is driven by a kind of relentless optimism, but it’s a chosen optimism, not a naive one. she might die, but she’ll be damned if she dies doing anything other than what is just, what is her duty as an amazon. her mother says, “what if you never come back?” and diana’s reply is, “who will i be if i stay?”

when steve’s on the plane and it looks like they’re all about to die, all sam and chief and charlie do is they lean in to each other. yeah, the world’s ending, so what are we gonna do? we’re gonna spend those last moments with each other. we’re gonna close our eyes and know that we did all that we could and even if it ends up doing nothing to affect the war as a whole, well, at least we did something.

there’s a story from the holocaust about a group of jews reciting prayers when one stops and says “why are we doing this? we’re about to die. only a madman would say these prayers now.” and the rabbi looks at him and quietly says, “our enemies have taken everything from us, but they cannot take our freedom to say these prayers. we must live as free men temporarily in captivity. that, if necessary, is how we will die.”

the characters in wonder woman push on even when they think it might be pointless, because that is the point. absurdism is about accepting that maybe you’ll never be able to make everything right, you might not even be able to make everything okay, but you can always do something. you can walk into the unending darkness, hold up a lighter, flick it on and say, “i win.” and in doing so, you will have won.

But sexy doesn’t impress me. Smart impresses me, strength of character impresses me. But most of all, I am impressed by kindness. Kindness, I think, comes from learning hard lessons well, from falling and picking yourself up. It comes from surviving failure and loss. It implies an understanding of the human condition, forgives its many flaws and quirks. When I see that in someone, it fills me with admiration.
—  Lisa Unger

Sometimes being autistic is really hard.

Sometimes it hurts so much to not be able to socialize like other people. To watch yourself fail again and again.

Sometimes it really sucks to miss social cues and not get jokes and not be able to relate to other people.

Sometimes the world is too loud and too bright and too much and everything sucks.

Sometimes it might seem like being autistic is a curse

It’s ok to feel this way sometimes. It’s ok to let yourself feel the pain of feeling like an outsider all the time. It’s ok to feel the hurt of not being able to relate. It’s ok to feel the struggle of living in a world that is too much.

But it’s important to pick yourself back up and remember that being autistic isn’t a curse or a bad thing. While there are aspects of being autistic that can be really tough in this ableist society we live in, there are so many beautiful aspects of being autistic. 

Autism allows us to think in different ways from neurotypicals. We’re able to find solutions and ideas that others wouldn’t. 

Autism allows us to experience the beauty of the world so much more intensely. We can find the exquisite beauty in such small things others would miss.

Autism makes us different and that’s a good thing. We may not always fit in with people, but when we find the right people we can be fierce and loyal and great friends.

Autism gives us a different way of communicating that is just as valid as neurotypical communication. Whether you are speak with your mouth, type out your thoughts, sign your words, or any other way of communicating, it is beautiful and good. People who won’t listen to your communication are the problem not your communication. 

Autism has good aspects and bad aspects just like every other neurotype. 

It’s ok to feel bad about being autistic sometimes, but it’s important to remember all the good that comes with it as well. 

You are unique. You are beautiful. You are valid. You are loved. 

Live proudly

Live radically

Live autisticly

cassian/jyn fic recs by MUTUAL PINING TROPES

I told an anon that I wouldn’t be doing this, yet here we are. This fic rec list is dedicated to fandom’s dedication to mutual pining + tropes that shove Cassian and Jyn together. All are either post-Scarif AUs, or canon missing scenes.

In brief:

fake making-out
like real people do by mollivanders ( @ladytharen​​) 3.4K
It’s a Classic for a Reason by mosylu ( @mosylufanfic​​). 0.4K, oneshot
Faking It by mosylu ( @mosylufanfic​) 2.8k, oneshot

sharing a bed
The Second Mission: Cold and Codependent by angel_deux. 26K words, complete.
semantics (series) by katsumi ( @leralynne​​). 4 oneshots.
the quiet we hold by ithacas ( @dazy-laze​​). 12K, oneshot
Cold, Cold Nights by Felurian. 2.4K, oneshot
we were secrets to keep by mollivanders ( @ladytharen​​)
Finding Myself (And Maybe You) (series) by Copper_Nails (Her_Madjesty) ( @coppernailpolish​​). 5 oneshots.
Remastered by Lafayette1777 ( @lafayette1777​​) 9.7K, oneshot
5 times Cassian and Jyn shared a bed by Moonprincess92 ( @moonprincess92nz​​) 4K, oneshot
Crash into You by jeeno2 ( @jeeno2) 8K, complete
the benefits of conversation by ignitesthestars ( @ignitesthestars​​). 1k, oneshot
falling together by ninemoons42 ( @ninemoons42) 4.7K, oneshot
Before I Wake, Before the Dawn by redfantasyfox ( @redfantasyfox​) 6K, oneshot

fake relationship
compromise by ignitesthestars ( @ignitesthestars​​). 2.6K, WIP

hurt/comfort (i.e. taking care of one another)
cover me, I’ll cover you by mollivanders ( @ladytharen​) 3.4k, oneshot
Hoarse by Selkit ( @coppermarigolds​). 2k, oneshot
Bloody Little Worms by Kobo ( @rxbxlcaptain​). 2.7K, oneshot
Closer by muggleindenial28 ( @jyn-mother-fucking-andor​). 3.3K, oneshot
what is decayed in you shall be made clean by imgoingtocrash ( @imgoingtocrash​) 2.3k, oneshot.
Two Hours by vaultfox ( @vaultfox​) 4.4K, oneshot
flight lessons by ignitesthestars ( @ignitesthestars​) 1K, oneshot
There For You by guineapiggie ( @ruby-red-inky-blue). 1.9K, oneshot

back from the dead
We Can Turn Over and Start Again by kyrdwyn. 13K, WIP
you are your father’s daughter by gingergenower ( @gingergenower​​). 1K, oneshot
Fifteen Days by clashofqueens. 1.1K, oneshot
untitled by @hurricanedancer​​. oneshot.

caught in the act
Caught in the Act by jeeno2 ( @jeeno2). 700 words, oneshot
A Million More Deaths by starforged ( @starforged​​) 3.2K, oneshot
‘cause i’ve been banging on the walls, i’m too dry to cry by youareiron_andyouarestrong ( @youareiron-andyouarestrong​). 500 words, oneshot

sex pollen
Dust by impertinence ( @stopthatimp​). 1.6K, oneshot
Color My Cheeks by Copper_Nails (Her_Madjesty) ( @coppernailpolish) 29K, complete

mutual pining co-dependence (that doesn’t fit anywhere else)
run to me in the rising dawn by katsumi ( @leralynne​) 4.9k, oneshot
Alternatively, by ibohemianam. 10K, WIP
We’ve Been Here Before by angel_deux. 2.5k, complete
my knees are cold (running home) by filzsimmons ( @jynersq). 7.3K, oneshot
Take Shelter by nymja ( @gizkasparadise​) 20K, complete

Notes on the recs below:

Keep reading

to read during a panic attack:

  • it won’t last forever. it will be crazy and overwhelming for a while, but it will stop eventually. i promise.
  • breathe through your nose, it will help slow you down.
  • call a friend if you need to talk, they will listen. even if they can’t help much, get your thoughts out if you need to.
  • don’t scratch at your arms or legs, don’t pull at your hair. try to be gentle with yourself please
  • biting your nails isn’t going to help anything.
  • turn on some rain or waves sounds, or a comforting song
  • if you can’t stop shaking your hands out, clench them into fists, don’t dig your nails into your palms.
  • if you’re rocking back and forth, listen to a slow song and gradually rock to the beats.
  • don’t listen to the intrusive thoughts.
  • when you’re calm, pick yourself up, and freshen up if you can. even if it’s just splashing your face with water. just a little something. take a shower if you’re able.
  • breathe steady. you’ve gotten through this before, you can do it again.

What Jace and Magnus as flatmates would entail: 

  • “Why exactly do you need Shadowhunter hair … are you sure Alec wouldn’t be willing to donate?” 
  • Magnus is too good of a person to continue to allow Jace to only wear black, heavens know the boys complexion would look excellent in red perhaps a deep magenta. 
  • Jace and Magnus’ expressions of horror every time one of Magnus’ clients come in and mistake Jace as the Shadowhunter he’s dating. 
  • Sparring matches. So many sparring matches. 
  • Magnus had been sure of one thing when meeting Jace Wayland, he wore the arrogance of a shadowhunter like a crown. But when he see’s the way that Jace tends to the others injuries, the wariness in his gaze, the lightness in his touch, he realizes there is much more to the golden boy.
  • Jace doesn’t spend too much time considering Downworlders. Upon hearing of Magnus Bane, he doesn’t see more than his reputation. But it changes when he sees the way his eyes watch Alec as though he was special, the way he cards a hand through Clary’s hair. That heart has loved so much for centuries. 
  • “Please pick up after yourself or I will actually kill you.” And Magnus’ raised eyebrow because ‘Excuse me Angel Brat this is my home’. 
  • When Magnus works late into the evening and just falls alseep due to uterr exhaustion, Jace goes around and picks up everything. Brings a blanket cover Magnus with.
  • Cats love the Angel brat, hell, Church would probably like the Angel Brat, Magnus is not amused by this information. 
  • All the embarrassing teenage stories of Alec while Alec looks on in absolute torment he knew this was a bad idea. 
  • Jace’s blinding grin when he catches his brother trying to sneak out in the early light of the morning, A firm high five to Magnus when he see’s him.
  • I hate you’s from Magnus followed by a quick love you too from Jace - because honestly who wakes up at 7 in the morning. Not even demons themselves. 
The “Just the thought of Team Cap walking all over Tony makes me want to trash my room, I just want unashamed, biased, pro-Tony quality content, is that too much to ask??” inspired ficlet I’ve been holding back for a while:

Bitterness ahead, guys. Not Team Cap friendly. Nor is it particularly deep or rational. I just wanted to get a couple of thoughts out of my head. Basically Tony is done being the team’s sugar daddy, only it comes to light in a very roundabout way. 


“When are my arrows gonna be fixed anyways?” Clint grumbles, rubs a hand over his sore shoulder. The one that wouldn’t have gotten injured, had his shot hit the target it was supposed to. Which it should have, his aim had been fine. The problem were the arrows. Someone must have screwed up somewhere in the production because they weren’t perfectly balanced.

They’re sitting in the conference room at the (mostly) restored compound. Tony is tapping away on his StarkPad, not even bothering to look up. He must have felt the questioning glances and noticed the silence, but he still doesn’t react.

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. He doesn’t want to encourage the tension between them, things are bad enough as it is. If only Tony would put in some effort as well, instead of going out of his way to antagonise them, maybe they could make some actual progress.

“Yo, Stark!” Clint snaps, voice reaching that biting sharpness he reserves specially for the billionaire. “I’m talking to you!”

Tony shows no outward reaction, which is strange to see. Back when they first came back, he used to move at all times, sharp and erratic, never staying still. Steve shakes his head at their unnecessary power play.

Tony answers before he has the chance to reprimand them though. “How would I know?” he asks, a brief frown flittering across his face as he scribbles something down onto the tablet.

The outraged look on Clint’s face tells everyone present that this meeting won’t get back on track any time soon. It’s understandable, really. Clint has been forced to fight three battles with faulty equipment and frankly, the lack of concern Tony is showing for his team mates’ safety is nothing short of callous. Steve knows things haven’t been good between them but this is the first time he wonders if things could really be so bad, that Tony would hold necessary equipment back on purpose.

It’s a terrible thought, but try as he might, Steve isn’t able to shake it off.

At least the rising tension finally causes Tony to look up and meet Clint’s glare. He’s wearing sunglasses even though they’re inside, like he always does. Steve doesn’t like it. Makes it harder to read Tony, to tell what he’s really thinking. Absently, he admits that this is probably why Tony wears them so religiously.

“What do you mean ‘how would you know’?!” Clint snarls, enraged. “My arrows have been acting up for weeks and you still don’t know how to fix it?!”

Tony stares at Clint, the expression on his face unreadable. Then, after a long, long moment of heavy silence, the answer.

“I’m not fixing your equipment.”

For a moment, it’s deadly quiet, as Steve struggles to process the meaning of what Tony has just said.

“Tony,” Steve hastily inserts himself as soon as he finds his voice again, before Clint can throw himself across the room and deck him, “I know there are still some issues we all have to work through, but that’s not an excuse to-”

“Hold it right there, Rogers,” Tony interrupts. It’s never Cap, always Rogers these days. The pain the distinction causes still catches Steve by surprise more often than not. “I’m not sure where you get this from but I’m not your mechanic. I don’t work for you. So if Barton here has an issue with his weapons, he needs to take it up with the people in charge. Considering how often you remind me that it’s not me, you’d think you’d have figured that part out already.”

“But it’s not working!”

Tony sighs. The deep, heavy sort of sigh you usually expect from an exhausted parent after their insistent child asks, “Are we there yet?” for the 34th time. “Then take it up with the quartermaster. Or Agent Hudson. Or one of the techies. Seriously, Barton, you signed the Revision. Who’s responsible for what is right in there, section 12 to 17. Besides-” he pauses.

“What are you waiting for? Go on!” Clint demands between gritted teeth, hands curled into tight fists. Thankfully, he’s not throwing anything. Yet. “Don’t get shy with me now!”

Tony straightens in his seat. Steve inwardly sighs. That man has never been able to let a challenge go unanswered.

Besides,” Tony continues, voice still surprisingly even, “chances are they’re working just fine.”

“You think I can’t tell when my bow isn’t fucking working the way it should?” Clint bristles.

The words actually cause Tony to lower his sunglasses for a moment, just to make sure there is no doubt about how stupid he believes Clint to be. “I’m saying you’re operating with a standard bow, Barton. The fabric and the construction limit the performance quality. Something I’m sure an experienced archer like yourself has picked up on.”

And yes, things are definitely getting ugly. That level of glacial cold in Tony’s voice is rarely achieved, even now.

“The why the fuck did you build a subpar bow?”

Tony sighs again. “You’re missing the point. Seriously, I can not believe we’re even having this conversation. I did not build that bow, Barton.”

And that’s–that’s a surprise.

Tony’s gaze trails over them all, taking in their confused, shocked expressions. “Really?” he asks, exasperation dripping from every syllable. “Did any of you even read the Revision? The Avengers’ are an official unit. Their weapons and uniforms can’t be provided by a private party, especially not one who is part of the team. Have you ever heard the term conflict of interest?”

“What about Stark Industries?” Natasha asks. From the furrow in her brows though, Steve suspects she already knows the answer–and doesn’t like it one bit.

“I’m not sure if you noticed,” and now there’s no mistaking the mocking in Tony’s tone, “but SI doesn’t sell weapons anymore. It was kind of a big thing, couple of years back.”

“But- But yours are better!” Clint splutters. It sounds plaintive and weak, even in Steve’s ears, but at the same time he knows what Clint’s struggling to say. It’s not about getting your toys taken away. It’s about their safety and efficiency in the field. On bad days, it’s about the survival of their entire planet.

“I can’t believe you would risk the teams’ lives and safety like this because of a petty argument,” Steve says, unable to keep quiet any longer, nor bothering to hide the honest disappointment.

Tony, unimpressed as always, simply snorts. “You’re an official unit, but before that you’ve been working for SHIELD for years. Did you ever have the very best equipment mankind was capable of providing at the time? No,” he answers his own question in a breeze, “you didn’t. Why? Because you’re agents, soldiers. And sure, the government wants to protect us, wants to keep us alive and make sure our missions succeed. But they have limited funding, which means everyone has to deal with the best cost-efficient option available. If you’ve got the right connections to get something more, then lucky you, but that makes you an exception, not a rule.”

“You don’t need to explain real life to me!” Clint snaps aggravated.

“Then why do you feel entitled to something better?” That question, sharp and cutting, makes the archer still, his mouth open but with no retort forthcoming. Tony is blinking at him now, head tilted sideways in child-like curiosity.

“Of course, if I, as a private citizen, decided to build something that doesn’t violate any laws and give it to a friend as a gift, that would be something else, wouldn’t it?” Tony continues after a moment, voice softer now, but no less cutting. His eyes are fixated on Clint, sunglasses pushed back, eyes dark and unmoved. “The average update would take me what, a week or two? That’s a lot of time to invest into a single project, especially when the ultimate use is so limited. How many people can possibly profit from improved protective vest versus how many people improve from an exploding arrow is a really fascinating comparison to make.”

“So you see, Barton, even if I could improve your bow, there’s no logical reason why I should waste my time like this.”

“Tony!” Steve interrupts, scandalised. “Clint’s life depend on his aim! Our lives depend on it! How can you justify not providing him with the most basic necessities.”

Tony doesn’t even try and look abashed, instead he throws his head back and laughs. “This is how you want to play it, Rogers? Because I’m rich and a genius, I owe it to you to devote my time, attention and money to bettering your lives? What about the seven billion other people on this world? Don’t they deserve the same consideration, hm? What makes you so special that I should put your needs before anything else?”

Steve opens his mouth, but Tony doesn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I tell you what this is: this is you realising I’m no longer spoiling you rotten because you are in fact not my kids and I can cut you off whenever the fuck I want. And you don’t like it. Because guess what, I may be privileged, but so are you! You’re heroes, most of the time, as far as the world is concerned. You’ve been living off my money and resources on top of that. You’ve always gotten special treatment and you like that. You’re as far detached from the ‘ordinary man on the street’ as I am, you just don’t have the self-awareness to fucking notice!”

Tony sends them a sardonic smile that does in no way take the sting out of his words. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’ll still be special. It’s just no longer my name footing that bill. Because we’re not friends. And as a business man, I’m not at all sorry to tell you that you simply aren’t worth investing into.”

And with that he stands, all blinding press smile, sweeps around dramatically, and strides purposefully out of the room. The automatic door closes noiselessly behind him, but he might have as well slammed it shut for all the difference it would’ve made.

It’s likely not a coincidence, that on their next mission Spiderman, Vision and Miss Marvel all showcase new, incredibly features and weapons that can’t have been created by anyone else. And it’s impossible to know for sure, what with the mask on, but Steve is one hundred per cent certain that Spiderman is smirking at them.

He is not wrong.


Let me know what you think? And please excuse any mistakes, I’ll re-read this tomorrow. Also this is the last post for today. I’m tiredtiredtired now and think I’ve spread enough bitterness for the day. And spammed your dashes with enough endless posts probably…oops.