When Does 'Son Of Tony Stark' Take Place In The MCU Timeline?

Watching his career take off after 'Game of Thrones' has been one of my guilty pleasures — that actor who played Robb Stark moved pretty quickly into a mix of fairy-tale and gritty modern roles. Right after his run on 'Game of Thrones' ended, he popped up as the charming Prince Kit in Disney’s live-action 'Cinderella' (2015), which felt like a smart, crowd-pleasing move: big studio, broad audience, and a chance to show a lighter side. He then shifted gears into thriller territory with 'Bastille Day' (2016) — a tense, street-level action film where he played a scrappier, more grounded character opposite Idris Elba. Those two films showed he wasn’t boxed into medieval drama or heroic tragedy; he could handle romantic leads and action beats with equal conviction. The most talked-about movie for me was his role in 'Rocketman' (2019), where he played John Reid, a complicated figure in Elton John’s life — it’s a supporting role, but it’s emotionally charged and allowed him to act against a powerhouse lead in a very stylized musical biopic. Beyond those, he kept balancing film with high-profile TV work, which helped keep him visible and versatile. I loved seeing the range he developed: from fairy-tale prince to pickpocket-turned-thriller-sidekick to a nuanced biopic presence — it feels like a satisfying evolution, and I’m excited to see what kinds of roles he chases next.

Here's the lowdown on Richard Madden's finances from my fan-geek perspective: most public estimates put his net worth around $6 million to $8 million. A lot of that comes from his breakout TV work on 'Game of Thrones' as Robb Stark, which gave him industry visibility and steady paychecks early in his career. While the exact per-episode figures for supporting players weren't published the way lead-star salaries were, it's reasonable to think he earned comfortable five-figure sums per episode in the early seasons and probably moved into higher tiers as his profile rose. After 'Game of Thrones' he landed lead roles in 'Bodyguard' and films like 'Cinderella' and had a memorable turn in 'Rocketman' — those projects would have paid better per job than early TV gigs and brought bonuses, residuals, and bigger agent deals. Beyond on-screen pay, his income stream includes residuals from syndication/streaming, stage work and likely some endorsements or brand partnerships. Public estimates won't capture private investments or property, so the $6–8M range is a solid snapshot but not absolute. Personally, I love that his career choices — from gritty drama to a fairytale prince — show range and have pushed his earnings up without turning him into a tabloid fixture, which feels earned and steady to me.

By the time Kanan appears in 'Star Wars Rebels' he's already a survivor, and that survival shaped how his Force skills grew. Born Caleb Dume and trained early by Master Depa Billaba, he was thrust into the trauma of 'Order 66' and forced to bury his identity to stay alive. That early formal training laid down the basics — discipline, lightsaber fundamentals, meditation techniques — but the real development came from years of hiding, doing ordinary things while keeping the Force alive inside him like a smoldering ember. Living as a fugitive made Kanan's connection quieter and more pragmatic. He used the Force not for flashy displays but for subtle awareness, intuition, and vigilance — skills that kept him alive on the run. When he chose to become Kanan Jarrus and join the crew of the Ghost, those dormant abilities had to be reshaped. Teaching Ezra Bridger pulled a lot out of him: instructing someone else forced him to examine and reinvigorate techniques he'd long set aside. That mentorship was a kind of re-training — he remembered the old forms but adapted them into something less rigid and more heart-led. The most transformative moment was after he lost his sight. Instead of breaking him, that blindness deepened his Force perception. He couldn't rely on sight anymore, so he leaned on kinesthetic sensing, inner calm, and the living Force around him. He evolved from a hidden student into a teacher who embodied a quieter, wiser use of the Force — one shaped by loss, love, and the stubborn refusal to hide forever. I still find that arc incredibly moving.

To download Adobe Acrobat Reader, you need to be sure your device meets some basic requirements. First off, if you’re using Windows, you’d want at least Windows 7, and ideally, you'll be on Windows 10 or 11 for the best experience. As for macOS, a system running macOS 10.12 or later is needed. The installation is pretty straightforward, but it’s worth checking if you have adequate system memory and hard drive space. Typically, having at least 2 GB of RAM leaves room for the program to run smoothly. Not to mention, an internet connection is essential for downloading and getting any updates. And if you’re on mobile, Adobe caters to that too! You can grab the app from the iOS App Store or Android’s Google Play, which conveniently syncs documents across devices. It’s always a good idea to keep your OS updated too, ensuring compatibility with the latest version of Acrobat Reader, which often comes with enhanced features and security updates.

Pulling the curtain back on 'The Orphan Master's Son' feels like a mix of reportage, mythmaking, and invention. I read the book hungry for who the characters came from, and what struck me was how Adam Johnson blends real-world materials — testimonies from defectors, reports about prison camps, and the obsessive propaganda emanating from Pyongyang — with classic literary instincts. Jun Do and the other figures aren't one-to-one copies of specific historical people; they're composites built from oral histories, state-produced hero narratives, and the kind of bureaucratic cruelty you see documented in human-rights reports. The result feels both hyper-real and strangely fable-like. On top of that factual bedrock, Johnson layers influences from totalitarian literature and political satire — echoes of '1984' or 'One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich' in the atmosphere and of spy-thrillers in the plot turns. He also mines the odd, tragic humor of absurd regimes, which gives scenes their weird life. For me, that mix creates characters who are informed by very real suffering and propaganda, yet remain fiercely inventive and, oddly, unforgettable in their humanity.

I’ve been following celebrity family stories off and on for years, and this one always stuck with me. Xavier, who publicly changed their name to Vivian Jenna Wilson in 2022, was born in 2004. Doing the simple math — 2004 to 2025 — means they turned 21 this year. That age always feels like a weird threshold to me: adult enough to make bold moves, young enough to still be figuring things out. People often get hung up on labels, but the filings and media coverage made the birth year clear. Xavier/Vivian is one of the twins born to Elon Musk and Justine Musk, and the name change and legal steps were reported widely back in 2022. I respect the privacy around exact birthdays, but the public record of 2004 is what anchors the age calculation. So yeah, they’re 21 now — an age full of possibilities. I always end up thinking about how strange and intense it must be to grow up under media glare and then make such a visible personal choice; that always leaves me with a mix of empathy and curiosity.

Cool question — I can break this down simply: Xavier Musk was born in 2004. He’s one of the twins Elon Musk had with his first wife; Griffin and Xavier arrived the same year, and that places Xavier squarely in the 2004 birth cohort. Doing the math from there, Xavier would be about 21 years old in 2025. Families and timelines around high-profile figures like Elon often get a lot of attention, so you’ll see that birth year cited repeatedly in profiles and timelines. I usually find it interesting how those early family details stick in public memory, even when the kids grow up out of the spotlight. Anyway, that’s the short biology-and-calendar version — born in 2004, roughly 21 now — and I’m always a little struck by how quickly those kid-years become adult-years in celebrity timelines.

That Red Wedding scene still hits like a gut-punch for me. I can picture the Twins, the long wooden hall, the uneasy politeness — and then that slow, impossible collapse into slaughter. In the 'Game of Thrones' TV version, Robb Stark is betrayed at his own peace-hosting: Walder Frey opens the gates to murder, the Freys and Boltons turn on the Stark forces, and when the massacre is at its darkest Roose Bolton steps forward and drives a dagger into Robb's chest, killing him outright. He even delivers that chilling line, "The Lannisters send their regards," which seals how deep the conspiracy ran. The band plays 'The Rains of Castamere' as a signal; the music still gives me chills. What always stung was how avoidable it felt. Robb was young, tired from war, and stretched thin — the betrayal exploited both his honor and his military weaknesses. The show amplifies the brutality by killing other loved ones in the hall too and by desecrating Grey Wind's body afterwards; it becomes not just a political coup but a crushing emotional massacre. In the books the betrayal also occurs in 'A Storm of Swords' and the broad strokes are similar, though details and some characters differ. Watching or rereading those chapters makes me think about the costs of idealism in politics and how storytelling uses shock to rewrite a world. It broke me then and I still catch my breath when the bells toll in that scene.