#now i want to go find the comic in my messy room and reread it again

[altho-arto]

watched Nimona today ⚔️❤️‍🔥👾

as a fan of the original ND Stevenson comic i wasnt sure what to expect of this 3D animated movie adaptation (especially cause i didnt like its new art style compared to the "dot eyes" one of the OG) , but wow. ITS SO GOOD

Genuinely had a great time, find the slight redesigns of some characters pretty nice (and overall the 3D look grew on me, good job), LOVE a lot of the soundtrack and colours/atmosphere this film has going on \o/ also brb getting emotional over the Even More Obvious trans allegory + the relationship between Nimona and Ballister 🥹🥹🥹

[shatouto]

I.Raised as sith Anakin au asdfghjkl I actually cried at some parts when obiwan was treating his injuries. T-T “I always looked at you like this… should I not?” …. My poor (criminal) child has a lot to learn. I wanna go down the angst road but I’ll never find my way back so let me just go the opposite direction because I feel like ani will short circuit everytime obiwan shows him any positive reaction/emotion that he can’t recognize...

aaaAAHH thank you SO MUCH for these asks, i am so so so happy that you like this super self-indulgent au (at least on my side). writing a very needie babie woobie ex-sith anakin is one of my biggest guilty pleasures, so i am always super grateful when people join in. i LOVE anakin and ahsoka bonding with that sibling rivalry. im not super good with ahsoka so i’ll probably leave that to @obiwanobi; for the time being i will go feral over the idea of anakin not knowing how to read ;;O;;

lost lonely loth-wolf

It’s not just boredom that scratches at Anakin’s bones from the inside; it’s idleness. Under Darth Sidious’s care (for want of a better word), he must always make himself useful, be it training or killing. No waking moment should be wasted; he should spend every of them on bettering himself in combat and commanding. He must always convince his Master not to doubt his worth, lest he be cast back into slavery again. Idleness is but the short-lived quiet before storm.

Having nothing to do makes his old scars ache.

It borders on astonishing him how the Jedi can afford themselves so many luxuries. Music halls, corridor murals, gardens, so many gardens. Not that he has seen all of them; he only saw glimpses from under his hood, whenever Obi-Wan takes him by the hand and walks him through the Temple to get to the hangar, for their nightly trips in the park. He’s no stranger odious displays of wealth, but the Temple is not odious, and that is hardly wealth. Everything looks simple and… soothing, somehow. The Jedi seems not wealthy, but rich.

The thing they are the richest with, is books. Loads and loads of them, along with datatapes and datacards. Anakin hasn’t been to the Archives, but he has heard the apprentice (Ahsoka, she has a name) talking about it. There are datatapes in Obi-Wan’s quarters as well. Obi-Wan can often be found poring over his datapad with one of those tapes plugged in, quiet and serene and glowing at the edges, backlit by the late orange sun. There’s always a lock of hair falling over his forehead. Anakin can’t recall how many times he has had to stop himself from reaching over to brush it back in place.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice stirs him out of his reverie. Their eyes meet, and Obi-Wan smiles a little. Anakin’s face heats up, which he promptly ignores. “What are you looking at?”

You, the true answer. Obi-Wan did tell him not to stare, though, so Anakin shrugs and drops his gaze to the glowing device on Obi-Wan’s lap. Obi-Wan, in turn, rests a warm hand on his shoulder.

“You can read anything on those shelves, you know.” He gestures towards the bookcase in the living room. “They’re all my favorite novels. The bottom shelf is younglings’ stories, and I still enjoy them greatly. Ahsoka leaves her comics lying around often, in which case you are perfectly in the right to read them as well. Force knows how many times I have told her to tidy—”

“I hate reading.”

Silence shatters upon them. Anakin scowls deeply, biting the inside of his cheeks. Books are written to corrupt you with lies. The majority of them are but garbage. There’s no need to busy yourself with those things, no need to wade through messy pages of drivels composed by Force-blind loudmouths, when your Master can dispense true wisdom to you. Your Master has great plans for you, so great that you needn’t burden your mind with trivia. So Anakin doesn’t read.

Nobody ever taught him to.

Obi-Wan gives a dismayed little “Oh.” Anakin rises to his feet and escapes to the fresher, as reluctant as he is to leave his warmed seat.

He shouldn’t have said that. At least not in that harsh manner. Night after night Anakin can’t sleep without seeing Obi-Wan’s face: his upturned brows, his downturned lips, his eyes wide in surprise. They never truly speak of it again, because that is how Obi-Wan is: if Anakin refuses something, Obi-Wan will simply let him be.

Obi-Wan leaves on a mission once more. Day after day Anakin passes by the bookcase in the living room, eyes sweeping over the datapads, fingers itching to pull one out - just to look at the pictures if there are any. He could now, right? There are no eyes looking over his shoulders anymore. No Master to sneer at him, call him a silly boy, and order him to go to meditate in the Sphere.

It takes Anakin another day to make up his mind. He picks a nice moment into the evening, after he has had his one meal of the day (the way he eats when he is alone), and crouches before the bookcase. He could have taken one of Ahsoka’s comics, but his eyes keep getting drawn towards the bottom shelf. Younglings’ stories, Obi-Wan said.

Anakin plucks out a datatape with a lilac casing, and takes the datapad left free for use on the other end of the shelf. He settles on the couch, something like excitement brewing in his belly as he plugs the tape into the datapad. The screen lights up in its familiar cyan glow. The cover page is a beautifully drawn illustration of a Loth-wolf under a great tree. He taps through the pages until he reaches the other illustrations. The Loth-wolf is depicted in various sceneries: in its den, between the trees, atop a boulder, under the starlight, and there never seems to be any other being around, beast or sentient. It feels wrong to him, so he keeps tapping to go through the pages. There has to be at least a scene where the Loth-wolf is with its pack, doesn’t it?

The main door slides open, and Anakin almost drops the datapad. He snaps his gaze up to find Obi-Wan staring back at him. Whatever expression Obi-Wan is wearing, Anakin can’t afford to study it for so long. He rises to his feet, fumbling to unplug the datatape from the device with just one hand and the Force.

“Oh, is this The Lonely Lost Loth-wolf?” Obi-Wan says with utter delight, his hand gently covering Anakin’s. “I hope you’ve been enjoying it, Anakin. This is one of my most-read books yet.”

“I…” Anakin struggles. He’s hot in the face and tongue-tied and his eyes flit over their nearly entwined hands in the bluish light from the screen. He dreads the moment Obi-Wan asks, I thought you didn’t like to read? - something he’s bound to do. Mockingly, maybe. The truth perches on the tip of Anakin’s tongue; what would Obi-Wan think of him if he says it? Even younglings a quarter of his age know how to read.

But Obi-Wan asks no such thing.

“What a strange coincidence; I’ve been meaning to reread this story,” the Jedi Master tells him with a gentle smile. “I would be loath to fight you for the datatape, though. I think we’ve had enough of fighting for a lifetime.” Humor twinkles in his eyes, and Anakin blinks, stumped. “So how about we share this?”

“Uh… Yes?” Anakin lets go of the datapad, now that Obi-Wan has a hold on it. “How?”

“Well, I would like to read to you, if that’s alright with you.” Obi-Wan squeezes his hand lightly. “I do prefer to take it from the beginning - it’s been a while since I read this last - unless you…”

“No,” Anakin says immediately. “I—Yes. Yes, I… want to hear it from the beginning.”

Obi-Wan changes into something soft, and insists Anakin settle in bed for comfort, just for the night. (To be truthful, Anakin would settle in bed with him every night if he could bring himself to.) It’s reminiscent of his first night here, only with a lot less blood and a lot more tenderness.

There was a time when Lothal was made of forests. There were more beasts than men, and among the beasts, the wolves were the strongest, wisest, most respected of them all. There were two Loth-wolf clans: the blue-eyed, and the golden-eyed. They did not always like each other. On the night the first daughter of the blue-eyed clan was born, the golden-eyed wolves hatched a plan…

Obi-Wan’s voice pours like velvet, smooth and warm with the occasional sparkles in his melodic lilts. Anakin’s eyes droop; he strains to open them as the kidnapped Loth-wolf princess begins her journey to travel back from the swamp land, to find her family and restore peace in the realm. At some point, he finds great, pooling-blue eyes looking down at him, and ashen fur with markings like the stars. A calloused hand runs through his hair.

The stars blink at him, and Anakin smiles as he drifts into the softest darkness.

[serenlyss]

Mob Psycho Fic Recs Part 3

Here we go again! I’ve racked up another 10 bookmarks to share. As always, if you are the author of any of these wonderful fics and want to have your tumblr tagged just let me know!

Parental Supervision Author: piperita Rating: G Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: In Progress Tags: dad reigen, good parent reigen, protective reigen, found family Summary: Reigen finds out that Teruki lives alone. No parents, foster parents, or even a hired caretaker. He doesn't know exactly what he's going to do with this information, but it's certainly not 'nothing'. Or: Reigen's awkward, messy, and backwards guide to adopting psychic children. My Notes: Just a nice cute fic about Reigen looking out for and helping take care of Teru after finding out that he lives on his own. It’s cute and very sweet how Reigen takes a kind of backwards approach to helping out Teru, since Teru is way too stubborn to allow himself to be completely cared for by someone else. I really love Reigen and Teru’s dynamic in this fic so far and I’m excited to see more!

aquarium Author: amaranthinecanicular Rating: G Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: Complete Tags: ritshou, mermaid au, background terumob Summary: It was just a fairytale. One of those bedtime stories parents tell their kids to make them wary of the surface. Merfolk didn’t fall in love with humans, they didn’t fall for the sweet words of seawitches and they didn’t fall out of the ocean with legs only to fall back as seafoam. It was just a fairytale. It was supposed to be a fairytale. My Notes: One of my all-time favorite ritshou fics, I go back and reread it all the time! I’m such a sucker for mermaid fics and this one is super beautifully written. It’s poetic and flows so so well, it wraps you in from the very beginning with its gorgeous prose and mysterious story. It’s definitely been an inspiration to me in pursuing a more descriptive and flowery writing style for certain fics. The budding friendship between Shou and Ritsu is endearing and believable and very in character, and the little mermaid inspiration brings a familiarity to the story as well that makes it easy to follow and understand what’s going on behind the scenes. I absolutely adore how the author writes Ritsu’s point of view, it’s just a really really solid and fun fic that I’ll continue to go back to after this.

Out of Body Author: bobmoss Rating: M Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: In Progress Tags: serirei, slow burn, mental health issues, recovery, case fic, hurt/comfort Summary: Serizawa's recovery seems to be going so well, but then he suddenly develops a habit of accidental out of body experiences during panic attacks. My Notes: A very sweet, emotional exploration of Serizawa and Reigen’s budding relationship post-world domination arc. I absolutely love the way the author writes these two as friends who know and understand each other, and how that leads into an eventual romance. It has some really heart-stoppingly scary dramatic moments, too, for being such a character-centered story, which took me pleasantly by surprise. I really look forward to what the author has planned for the future of this fic!

Night Terrors Author: futuresoon Rating: T Archive Warnings: Unspecified (there’s some blood/injury and horror elements, but nothing too extreme) Completion Status: Complete Tags: Yomawari: Midnight Shadows fusion (no knowledge needed to read), horror, angst, alternate universe Summary: Ritsu wants psychic powers more than he wants almost anything. But he didn’t expect them to only be good for seeing spirits, and he didn’t expect them to only appear after his brother walks into the forest and doesn’t come back. Now the town is full of monsters, and all Ritsu can do is search for his brother--but even powerful children are still children, and the night is not always kind. My Notes: This fic really took me by surprise, since I had never played Yomawari and knew nothing about it before reading this. It’s dark and relatively scary as far as my usual taste in fics go, but it’s written really well. The author is really good at displaying the hopeless aura of the situation without making it seem like all is lost, and the atmosphere and constantly moving story make it really easy to get lost in this dark alternate reality. It’s not really a happy fic, though, and the ending is rather bittersweet, so be aware if you decide to read this one.

The Accelerated Velocity of Terminological Inexactitude Author: LogicalBookThief Rating: G Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: Complete Tags: terumob, fake dating au, slow build/slow burn, crushes, pining, holding hands, slight angst, mentions of mogami arc Summary: Teru offers to fake date Mob in order to gain Tsubomi's attention. His own crush on Mob makes this plan somewhat problematic. My Notes: Teru has a big ol crush on Mob and takes advantage of his crush on Tsubomi to become his fake boyfriend for a time, except it really does more harm to himself than to anyone else. The fake dating AU we all know and love, now with added mogami arc angst (just a little) and the slow realization that their fake relationship might have more truth behind it than either of them are intending. It’s a super sweet fic and a relatively quick read if you’re looking for something with meat that isn’t 100k words long. It brought quite a few smiles to my face and a couple of excited squeals as well.

Grow as we Go Author: lesboba Rating: T Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: In Progress Tags: terumob, fluff, character study, hurt/comfort, dad reigen, established relationship, good person teru, post-canon, kissing, panic attacks Summary: Teru's still working on himself, but he has time and the right people with him now. My Notes: This fic is so so good and sweet, it focuses on Teru coming into his own and figuring out how to be a good person post-canon. It’s so endearing seeing him interacting with the whole Kageyama family, especially Shigeo, who he’s dating in secret, and his parents, who treat him like their own son and it’s great. It’s so nice to see Teru’s struggle to remind himself that he can change and become better from inside his own head, since in canon we only get brief mentions of what that must be like. It’s also super soft, just very very soft, and it makes me feel nice every time I go back to refresh myself on it.

Blind Eye Author: NewWorldFool Rating: G Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: Complete Tags: ritshou, pining, fluff, mutual pining, john mulaney references Summary: “Yo, Ritsu!” Shou says with a nonchalant wave as he walks through the doorway, entering the threshold of the student council room. The boy in question sighs, but not unkindly. “Shou,” he says in lieu of a greeting. Shou showing up to the student council meetings has become a somewhat common occurrence even though he doesn’t even attend the school. He won’t admit the exact reason why, but Ritsu deduced it was probably to mess with him. Normally he’d be annoyed, but today? Ritsu is grateful for the interruption. (Basically a ritshou fic where they're dating but not really dating and Ritsu gets an epiphany) My Notes: This is a super sweet, super cute one-shot about how Ritsu and Shou act like they’re a couple long before they actually start dating and I love it. Shou showing up at Ritsu’s school and house out of the blue is one of my favorite fanon interpretations of him and it’s played out really well in this fic. I also love the idea of the two of them just being unabashedly affectionate when it’s just the two of them, they have such a cute relationship in this interpretation!

Cinderella-Esque Author: beanpots and Floral Fancies (lovelycoris) Rating: T Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: Complete Tags: ritshou, terumob, cinderella au, curses Summary: Once upon a time in a faraway land, there was a tiny kingdom that was peaceful, prosperous, and rich in romance and tradition. Tucked away in the corner of town lies a charming little stone house that's absolutely smothered by flowers of impeccable beauty. But the life around the Kageyama house belies the bane plaguing them - Ritsu Kageyama will do anything to lift the curse from his older brother. Even if it costs him a glass shoe. My Notes: This might be my favorite mob psycho fic like.. ever. I remember staying up into the early hours of the morning to read it all in one sitting because I just had to know what happened next. It’s beautifully written and leaves you on the edge of your seat wondering what might happen next, and the fantasy/cinderella vibes are so so fun to read. This art also comes with the amazing added bonus of having beautiful chapter cover art and even some mini comics slotted into the fic itself, which is such a treat to come across every single time. I highly recommend this fic to anyone who likes ritshou and terumob even a little, it’s so well-written and the characterization, specifically for Ritsu and Shigeo, is really solid.

first day Author: shcherbatskayas Rating: T Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: Complete Tags: ritshou, school nonsense, hugs, undiagnosed dyslexia, lunch sharing, mutual pining, trauma Summary: Ritsu can't stop himself from being excited about it: Shou's first day in his class. He can't stop himself from being nervous, either. My Notes: post-canon, Shou starts attending Salt middle school and ends up in Ritsu’s class. Shou’s not really cut out for school, unsurprisingly, but Ritsu’s there to keep him company and reassure him that he’ll end up alright. Ritsu makes a pro vs con list of what it’s like to have Shou as a classmate (and to have a friend in his class who he actually likes). It’s a really sweet, nice, fluffy fic and I love the way the author writes Ritsu and Shou’s friendship and how they support each other, I just really love all of the author’s ritshou fics actually. This one was particularly nice to read though, their interpretation of Ritsu and Shou’s relationship is really nice to read and comes across very natural and close.

It’s Hard to Read When You’re Fast Asleep Author: Squishy360 Rating: G Archive Warnings: None Completion Status: Complete Tags: good brother ritsu, family fluff, ???% as a character Summary: Mob passes out. ???% wakes up. Ritsu helps his brother take care of himself in the meantime. My Notes: This fic caught me by surprise in the best way. It’s short and tame and is such a fun and interesting take on ???%’s relationship with Ritsu, how he still recognizes Ritsu as his brother and has that sort of instinctual caring attitude toward him. It’s surprisingly wholesome and comes across almost like a crack fic but it just leaves you feeling warm and happy in the end. Ritsu’s initial fear of ???% and his slow realization that he’s not going to get hurt this time is so nice to read and very cathartic overall. I really love this idea and the author executes on it really really well!

[twiststreet]

Progresso Report -- ??? 2018

It’s been a long time since I did one of these (August?)-- things in 2018 got messy.

This is an ongoing series of charts that I keep to track my slow but inevitable ascendance to a higher and more eternal plane of existence than you, a frail normal person bereft of the life force that courses through me.  As I believe Paul Atreides once explained to a Reverend Mother of the Bene Gessit order, the First Law of the Mentat is that “A process cannot be understood by stopping it. Understanding must move with the flow of the process, must join it and flow with it.”  Or as I believe Tommy Lee once said, in The Dirt: Confessions of the World’s Most Notorious Rock Band, “We partied like clockwork, bro.  You could check the clock in whatever time zone we were in and figure out exactly what kind of shit we were into.”  

I started new charts in September that I’m happier with, but then everything fell apart in that last half of 2018.  Work/regular-life exhaustion-- things just got especially tiring over here; people dying-- this year had a little bodycount there for me; a lot of chart confusion this year; my New Years plans falling apart; people getting sick, me with this cold; dental stuff; housing stress (I’m trying to find a new place) which has meant a resurgence in budgeting stress. 

I guess it’s been a long year.  But I don’t want to be one of those “oohhhhh 2018 how dare you” people much either, because (a) it’s the same assholes who are like “look how busy I am” on the internet, give it a rest, and (b) they say that every single year, and it’s not like Bowie and Prince died this year.  

 I stopped cooking sometime in November, so I’m going to skip the numbers.  Which means no number analysis for 2018 trends.  But things just ... yeah, things fell apart.  Except for writing, weirdly, where I’ve filled about two notebooks, since August (which is an unusual amount for me-- I’m usually pretty slow).  I think that’s been a lot of it-- when I get in a good place writing, it’s hard to not tune out everything else, but.  

So 2019 is going to be a dust it off and start over kinda year as it turns out.  

The Weekly Section:

Cooking:  I was cooking up until November and then stopped cold around Thanksgiving-- travel always discombobulates.  Recipe-wise, though, I fell off on trying new recipes.  Chicken oyakodon one night in August or September, which didn’t turn out too good.  A lot of messing around with hot pot recipes and a veggie stew, in November-- I was kinda into the hot pot, and want to circle back to that, when I get cooking again.  I have Thai Chicken written down for October, but no idea what that means, and I circled back to that Udon-Shrimp recipe again.  

Got a little better with tacos, but not fully great there yet.  Kept trying to make my own pickled onion, but never got it right.  

Project Work: If I added up all the numbers here, this would be the bulk of my time during this span.  A lot of writing-- almost every day.  Mostly on a comic project, so one of those things that might become nothing (and maybe should be nothing-- it stinky), but.  And a lot of reading for that, old comics mostly, the classics, revisiting stuff-- it all kinda devolved into me rereading Uncanny X-Men #260 a lot, though I couldn’t tell you why. 

Trying to remember what makes something good.  That’s a bit I never figure out how to deal with-- I have a thing when I’m in the middle of a creative thing, where I just kind of throw my hands in the air and go, “I have no idea what makes something good anymore.”  Like, what do you want out of a thing??  What makes a fictional thing good?  I don’t even know when I’m in the middle of all this.  

Or I don’t know what’s good for right now-- what feels hokey or what feels hip and modern; like, you don’t want to be the guy doing ... remember when some Iron Man guys came back with a new comic in the 00′s with like ... an 80′s Iron Man comic except trying to sell that exact sound in 2005 or whatever, and were like “Hey kids”? I think about that all the time.

Looked at a lot of the big hip popular (non-DC) books -- but just from a vulture-y place, so nothing I’d feel comfortable talking about.  I don’t know-- I don’t ... I’m a little lost at the moment, I guess!  Or I know that I’m not making something good, because I’m not that guy, so wheeee.

I did like a Image book I saw, called the Outer Darkness.  I thought that was kinda funny-- kinda cute.  I’m really into LOEG: The Tempest-- I think that’s really fucking good.  I scribbled down on a sheet that I liked some old John Porcellino comic where he plays football or something with his kids.  I finally read the ending of Sin Titulo, which it turns out I didn’t have to do.

Gym: This has been a huge improvement for this year.  Except for the last couple weeks while I’ve had a cold, I’ve managed to escalate the gym more. (A) Spending more money on it, (B) involving a trainer for a period of time, and (c) having the gym walking distance from my job so I could make it part of my “At work” time in my head and not my “me doing me” time, those all I think turned out to be the trick for me-- I was angrier about not going, when money got involved, especially.  These would have good numbers...

The Monthly Section:

New Restaurants: 

I had Okonomiyaki for the first time.  (These are mostly not my photos-- I had photos but just changed phones so most of my photos got lost).  I didn’t really feel strongly about it, though-- it felt like good hangover food and I don’t drink like that much anymore, so.  

A lot of time got invested in Korean fried chicken and chicken wings.  There’s a  place in Koreatown that I got a little obsessed with (namely, the vaue meals over at Kyochon).  Tried some Japanese fried chicken, that place on Sawtelle for comparison-- no question, the Koreans won that battle.  (Though, Honey Kettle over the Koreans, but-- it’s a different flavor profile, is all, so).  

New places around where I live and work.  A new taco place.  A new “Asian small dish” place.  A vegan Thai place that ... I can’t say I recommend.  A westside Korean place, so.  In November/December, I’ve gotten really interested in the Indonesian food in my neighborhood so I’ve been eating a lot of that-- it’s like Thai but different ingredients, so a fun little adventure there.  Some crappy 3rd street Asian restaurant I didn’t even write down the name of.  

Finally went over to Guerilla Tacos.  (That’s my photo).  I really enjoyed those tacos-- Jonathan Gold had talked that place up for years when it was a truck, but I’m lazy and hadn’t gotten around to it.  (I’m not really a truck fan!).  Boy, those tacos, though... That’s the (a) Pocho Taco (ground wild boar, pine nuts, raw tomatilo chile, chipotle crema, aged cheddar & pico de gallo in a crunchy shell) and the (b) Albondigas Taco (chicken meatballs, stewd tomato salsa, castelvetrano olives, and parsley).

LA Stuff or Travel:  Travel for Thanksgiving.

A Harlan Ellison memorial at the Egyptian theater.  They played his Outer Limits and Twilight Zone episodes, and specially cut together videos of him talking or his TV work (his Gidget episode or his Burke’s Law episodes or what have you).  LQ Jones talked about making the Boy and His Dog movie; Josh Olsen talked about co-writing that Twilight Zone episode; Leonard Maltin talked about seeing The Terminator for the very first time with Harlan in the audience yelling at the screen.  It was nice, getting to be there.

I had car problems so I took some hour-or-two long walks on nights when I was relying on Lyft, just seeing what walking in LA’s like.  (It’s fine!  I mean, it’s not ideal, but it’s fine). It’s nice knowing that’s an option at the end of the day, at least.

One time at lunch, I walked by Mel Brooks having lunch with friends.  I heard him say “I love that we’re doing this” but didn’t stand there and gawk or eavesdrop like I wanted to.  But I don’t know-- I was really really excited about that.  Mel Brooks!

I went to a comedy thing for the first time in too long-- Superego and Wild Horses did a team-up improv night, where they improvised a play about middle-aged white people, getting together at a house by a lake.   I need to see more comedy-- I know that I find that very calming and I don’t know why I haven’t been, but.

Went to another Indiecade, the indie game festival-- two highlights there.  One was Flight Simulator-- a game where instead of simulating being a pilot, you simulate being a passenger on a trans-Atlantic flight, in real time.  So it’s just a simulator where you sit in a seat and wait for a flight to be over...?  That made me laugh-- I really quite enjoyed the creativity of that, and getting to speak with the guy who was making it.  (I asked a bunch of questions-- yes, your character will have a book he or she can read-- but not “Why” since that seemed extremely gauche to ask).  

The other thing was as I was walking by a room, a guy was like “hey, want to hear a guy talk about making music for the Star Wars games.”  And I was like, “Fuck it, I don’t give a shit about that, but I want to sit down and I got no place better to be, so let’s do it.  I GOT NOWHERE ELSE TO GO.”  

But it actually turned out to be a really fucking interesting discussion because... because the guy had a job that coincided exactly with where my head’s been at with the stuff I’m working on, with just thinking about comics, old comics, balancing wanting to invoke old shit while still doing new shit, and how that job of writing for comics exists for so many people, especially people not working on their own shit, who are working with pre-existing properties with expectations around what those properties and that kinda experience should deliver.  

Which is-- they hire you to be you, but they’re also hiring you to do Star Wars, to do a thing that sounds like Star Wars.  

So he talked about having to break down all the different ways that he could approach that problem-- with one way just being imitating the melodies that came before you.  But he talked about the better route being how ... He put it in terms of like language-- like the music of Star Wars has a language to it (horns, woodwinds used against bloop blarps, whatever) and it’s about figuring out how to talk in that language, but that doesn’t mean you have to say the same thing once you speak the language.  I don’t know.  

I’m not doing it justice-- I found it very interesting, and weirdly on point to what I wanted to think about, way more than I expected.

Documentaries:  I think I mentioned them all on here.  That He-Man one.  F is For Fake.  (I saw the Lego and GI Joe episodes of the Toys That Made Us).  Fighting in the Age of Loneliness, which I was really, really into-- I thought that was really cool.  City of Gold.  Some Netflix movie I’m forgetting.  That last Star Wars video by the Red Letter Media guys, if that counts.

Oh, and ... one night I had a Twitch stream on for noise, because that’s what I do now I guess (???), and the people on the Twitch stream themselves put on a documentary about Logan Paul.  It was the Shane Dawson docu-expose of Logan Paul or Aaron Paul or whoever those assholes are.  I only saw the first one of those, via Twitch stream, but holy shit, that was... whatever the fuuuuuuck that was.  I want to watch the rest of those.  Just a window into a completely other dimension of humanity.  But the window itself had a history of blackface...?  Like, you lookup the host of the documentary, the guy DOING the expose, and it’s like online people going “why he do blackface?”  What????????  What the hell is going on with Youtube???

I definitely want to go back to those.  I want to see the Darkness That’s Coming.

Movies:  I don’t know-- I saw a bunch of movies.  

Let me see:  Personal Shopper (terrific movie!), Support the Girls, Crazy Rich Asians, Buster Scruggs, that El Royale piece of shit, that Spiderman cartoon, Sometimes a Night Is For Us All (?), rewatched the original Suspiria, a shitty Netflix horror movie called Beyond the Gates, the Other Guys again, a Simple Favor, The Predator, Destination Wedding, Mayhem, half of Rampage. Saw a lot of movies with my nephews (rewatched Knight & Day and MI: Fallout, the Tooth Fairy, Jumanji 2, Castle of Cogliostro, rewatched Ant Man 2-- I know people aren’t into it but I like the wannabe-Elmore-Leonard plotting, Jackie Chan’s Skiptrace, Daddy’s Home 2 (no!), School of Rock). 

I rewatched Buckaroo Banzai over Thanksgiving after people went to sleep and I didn’t have anything to do.  I fucking hated that movie as a kid-- almost got thrown out of a screening of it because I was yelling stupid shit at my friends during it and whatever.  But I always wanted to revisit since so it’s a touchstone for so many nerds -- it improved as an adult knowing what they were up to, at least, understanding better what they were trying to do, but I wouldn’t say that I was wrong as a kid either, not exactly... I’d put it down as “interesting” at the moment.  It’s helpful knowing the reason it looks like shit is they hired the cinematographer of Blade Runner, but then the producers made them fire that guy after only two or three scenes...

I think I’m missing some stuff on this list, but...

(Saw a few episodes of that Jack Ryan show with my family, too, since that’s their kind of thing, apropos of nothing-- it was not great!  Like, some guy’s in Vegas getting beat up because he wants pervy sex and then Jim From the Office frowns-- or I don’t know how to describe it, but ... not great).

Highlighter Videos:  I did a bunch.  I should do a separate video wrap-up for the year though, like people do.  That might be nice to have done.

Goals:

Three Scripts for the Project:  Technically I wrote way more than 3 but most of them got ripped up along the way.  But yeah, goal met.

Flowchart for Game: Still in progress on the flowchart-- kind of feeling inspired again to tackle all that, after Bandersnatch though.  The game within the game, not the show itself.  I love the fake games people imagine when they make shit like that, how vivid they always seem as compared to the real thing.  There’s a game that gets described in a Kelly Link short story that I think about more than I think about games I’ve spent 90000 hours on.

I didn’t do a favorite games of the year list, but this year was all about discovering the Yakuza series for me. And just... the way those games are all about excavating the same exact, relatively-understandable space, Kamarucho, year after year, game after game.  I think that’s really ... I don’t know what the right word to describe that is.  I just find that architectural obsessiveness really curious.  They’re curious games.  I could go on and on about them but instead, no.   

2019 Plan: My goal for this year was to create a good plan for 2019-- making a list of movies I want to watch, types of recipes to try, that kind of thing.  I think that’s what I’m going to do over the next couple days while I’m sick and have time off work.  

Finish Books:  I didn’t finish one!  Got too consumed by reading ... some comics I will never admit to having read.  Hoo-boy.  I have gone all the way down the rabbithole.

Cooking Class:  Nope.

Major Tidy:  Nope.  Smaller tidiness, yes, but I need to get rid of a lot of clutter.  But like I said, I think I’m going to have to move (and I’m thinking to a smaller place-- I think I have more space than I need right now) so that’s going to happen whether I like it or not.  

Finish Best-Of Assembly: I’ve been preparing a best-of this blog in case / when tumblr invariably goes down.  But in the course of that, a lot of things have to be slightly rewritten or edited down-- a lot of weird raving pared off things, so.  

Overall: There was more that probably I was too lazy to scribble down on the charts.  Things got lazy.  Things got derailed.  Things have to get put back on track. I’m not back at square one-- I feel good about having written as much as I have at least (even if I have a lot of work left before any of that’s... anything??).  But.  I’m glad a new year is coming-- it’s my favorite holiday; it’s the only holiday that promises anything really valuable.  A fresh start beats candy anyways, after you’re old enough to eat candy all the time because no one’s around to stop you.  A fresh start sounds nice...

[moonlights-inkwell]

He gives me toothache just by kissing me

Summary: A late night doing homework becomes something else when your best friend stops by to talk. 

Jason Todd x Reader

Robin! Jason Todd x Reader.

Word Count: 2072

Happy Valentine’s Day! …So the old version of this had some issues? So I fixed it? I guess this is sort of angsty at the end but is generally pretty fluffy.

Title is from Hozier’s Work Song.

It was late, so late that you could feel your eyelids fluttering shut as your elbow dug into your calculus homework, crumpling the sheet beyond comprehension. You would normally be asleep by now, but the need to finally finish all of your work had ensured that you had stayed up for several more hours than usual, and this extra time awake was definitely playing on your body. You hadn’t been this tired since… well ever. It was overwhelming really, head feeling heavier and heavier with every second until you jolted yourself back awake. The need to sleep combating with the need to finish ensured that you had been reading and rereading the same question for at least half an hour. The sound of knocking against the window was what finally drew you back to reality, head turning quickly to see the domino mask clad face of your best friend behind the glass, dark hair merging into the pitch black of the night sky behind him.  

Jason had shown up at Gotham Academy two years ago, after being taken in by Bruce Wayne, which had created a small amount of levity for you. Before Jason, you had been the New Kid at school- the new kid who wasn’t as rich as the rest. You were only at Gotham Academy because your grandmother had died, and in her will had left a fair amount of money to be spent on your education. That had been a bad idea. The other kids had treated you like shit for months until Jason showed up, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him despite your relief. No matter how shitty the other kids had been to you- and how much you had wanted them to stop treating you poorly- you didn’t want someone else to take your place as their new target, rather them to just lose interest and leave you alone. Your English Teacher had brought him forward on the first day, telling him to say somethings about himself but all that you were able to do was pay attention to how he looked. He was smaller than most of the kids in your class (something you had later found out was from malnutrition), with wide blue eyes which easily turned to catlike slits when he was angry- which seemed to be often, and messy curls of soot-coloured hair. He was cute, in a sort of sad way. You found out later from the whispers of some of the other kids that Jason had been taken in by Bruce Wayne, that he was from the Narrows- not that they described it like that. Street Rat was their usual terminology, and it made you hate them all the more. That was probably why, a few days later, when a kid called him a charity case in the middle of the cafeteria, you had decided that the only means of stopping the bullying once and for all was to punch the Bully in the face.  

The bullying subsided for both of you after that, and in its place you had gained Jason’s friendship, something that seemed somewhat impossible to anyone else. With Jason’s friendship came a fierce sort of protection, he had seemingly decided to become your own personal guard dog, protecting you as much as he possibly could. You notice the bruises after a few weeks, blooming on his legs and arms as if they had come from fights, the split and bruised knuckles such an often-seen part of his appearance that you became confused when they weren’t present. They make your mind race through all the possibilities on the planet; that the bruises are from falling, the split knuckles from some sort of secret fight club, because the alternative is too horrible for you to think about. The truth came out after a year when he finally confessed to you that he was Batman’s sidekick, not that you believed it at first. You only knew it was true when he came to your window later that night in uniform and grinned at you, face lit up and eyes shining mischievously in a way that just screamed ‘I told you so.’ It made his protective nature make sense, but also meant that the bruises that littered his arms and legs were was less worrying than you had previously thought. He happily shows you his mask while hidden away in the confines of your bedroom while he ‘showed you his moves’- which actually means that he showed off some sort of confused air karate before saying he couldn’t show his ‘real moves’ because they’d scare you off. You had laugh at that and flop onto the bed, his mask between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. Robin. Jason. It seemed almost absurd.  

Now, he leans against the window frame as you pushed the glass upwards to allow him into the room, his lips turned up in a small, sad sort of smile as he climbs in. He’s taller now, finally taller than you, and broader too. The sadness is newer though, made even clearer as he peels the mask off of his face and stomps over to your bed (something that would have been comical with his scaled shorts and pixie boots if it wasn’t for how upset he seems). You reach out almost subconsciously and pull him into a gentle hug, his body rigid as your arms wind around his frame; he feels safe and warm even in his ridiculous costume, and your eyes slowly slip shut until you feel something warm and wet hit your cheek. Your [E/C] eyes look up and see the tears dripping down his cheeks.  

“…Jase?” Your voice is soft, to try and avoid the risk of your parents hearing you talking and coming in, but as your eyes glance at the red neon numbers on the digital alarm clock you decide it’s too late for your parents to be awake.

“Bat benched me.” He says softly and slides down onto the bed. “He benched me. I…”

“Oh Jay…” You whisper and hold his cheek softly. Him crying isn’t exactly new, Jason cries whenever he’s angry or excited- you can’t help but think that he must feel things so strongly that it’s overwhelming for him, and that’s why it’s never stopped making your heart clench. Sitting beside him, cheek cupped in your hand seems a good way to calm him, so you gently wipe the heavy flow of tears away. “He… it isn’t permanent right? I mean, you’re still Robin.” You whisper to try and calm him down, but his thin fingers wrap around your wrist. His grip is tight, even in spite of his green gloves, and it makes you flinch slightly from the unexpected display of strength.

“…Doesn’t matter. Cause I’m not stickin’ around.” His voice is louder than before, more conspiratorial as he leans in to you, the corner of his mouth turned up in what is either a small smirk or as a means of keeping from crying any further.

“What do you mean, not sticking around?” You ask worriedly, your thumbs stilling from wiping his cheeks. That could mean anything, but you found yourself silently praying that it didn’t mean that he was running away or anything stupid like that.  

“…My mom, I’m gonna go find my mom.” You turn your head in absolute confusion, lip caught between your teeth.  

“I thought you said she was-”

“Dead? That’s what I thought, but she wasn’t my mom.” He says, voice caught somewhere between feverish and overjoyed. “I’m going to find my real mom. She’s in Ethiopia, so I’m gonna go find her.”  

You know it’s selfish, but your jaw tightens and your hand shifts away from his face, almost angry that he would leave you, but his tight grip on your arm doesn’t stop or even loosen. You don’t want him to leave, and it’s cruel and selfish and harsh, so you swallow down that negative feeling and force a smile. His mom. How could you be so cruel as to tell him not to try and find his mother, just do you can have him around? So you don’t, choosing instead to nod and tilt your head.  

“That’s… fantastic, Jay. You need to find her.” His mom. Of course, he’d leave to find his Mom, even if it meant travelling all that way, but your heart still throbs painfully. You smile and gnaw at the soft flesh of your lip, too busy focusing on trying to keep positive that you don’t notice how Jason’s eyes flit down to your lips and how he moves closer to you, don’t notice how his hand slides up from your wrist to your upper arm until he pulls you into a kiss.  

It’s awkward, mainly because you hadn’t been expecting it in anyway shape or form. Kissing had never been something you spent much time thinking about other than in the confines of in romantic movies and classical literature; kissing was always for girls who look like Molly Ringwald to you, or boys like Paul Rudd in Clueless, or for heroines like Elizabeth Bennett or Emma Woodhouse, not for you. But here you are, sat on your bed in a t-shirt and pyjama shorts with your best friend, clad in his crime-fighting get up, kissing you like he thinks it’s his only chance to do so. His lips are cold and wind-chapped, moving slowly against your own, and working your lip free from the tight grip of your teeth. You finally respond after a minute or two, just before Jason could pull away, lips pressing back against his own which made him grin against you, free hand sliding up into your hair. It’s clumsy, but its soft and sweet and so very Jason that you can’t help but think that it’s the perfect first kiss. Equal parts romantic and soft to awkward and unaware. It’s not like the kisses from the movies you like or the the novels you read, or even anything like the kisses you had seen from public displays of affection that normally had your eyes rolling. It’s gentle in ways you aren’t used to. He pulls back to smile at you before brushing his lips against yours once more before you tug him back into another kiss, almost unwilling to let him go because you know if he stops kissing you he’ll leave.

After a few more minutes Jason breaks the kiss with a breathless smile, kisses your forehead and smiles. “I’m coming back for you, Okay? I promise. I’ll be back.” He kisses you chastely- little more than the smallest press of chapped lips against yours- but stops before you’re able to return it, then stands up and walks towards the window. “I’ll be back. You won’t even have enough time to miss me, and when I’m back, I’ll take you to Pauli’s for a date.” He smiles softly and gives you enough time to smile and nod excitedly. You watch as gets closer before your fingers close around the thin chain of the necklace that your grandmother had bought you before she died.  

“Jase!” You call after him before he’s able to get his leg over the window-frame, rushing to him. Undoing the clasp, you gently pull it off then grab his wrist and force the fabric of his glove down, you slowly wind the dainty chain around his wrist and smile, tugging the glove back up.  

“I can’t-” He starts but you cut him off with a soft kiss.  

“Give it back when you come home, yeah? Now you have to.” You hope that you don’t sound too desperate, and from the way that he smiles back at you, it’s safe to assume you don’t. He climbs away, and you sigh softly, leaning against the window ledge as he disappears into the night. You eventually stop staring off into the darkness to try and get some sleep, walking back to the bed and lay back. But now sleep refuses to come, so you let yourself drift off into a fantasy of the oncoming date; how much fun that date will be, what you should wear, how long you think you’ll have to wait for him to come home. You fall asleep with that on your mind, eyes slipping shut with your lips turned up in a peaceful smile.  

But he never comes home.

[britneyshakespeare]

blush, cute, kitty, love, prince, rainbow, smitten, snuggle, sparkle, sunshine

i fell asleep before i could answer these bc i’m a sleepy baby. whoops. but asks aren’t milk they don’t go bad if you leave em out overnight so here we go

blush; what was your stuffed animal as a child?

I had many. In fact I still buy a lot of stuffed animals. But the most important was a stuffed turtle I got when I was 9. It’s kind of a sob story but I was in and out of the hospital constantly from late 2008-early 2009, and my first visit while I was lying weak from a procedure in the emergency room, my mom went down to the gift shop (it was Children’s Hospital Boston, which if you’ve never been there–and I hope to God you haven’t–it’s huge.) and picked me up a few toys that evening. One was a stuffed turtle I named Shelley (i’d like to say it’s for percy but obviously i was not that cultured when i was in fourth grade). I brought her to every subsequent emergency room trip, including when I got sick again in middle school, and AGAIN a few years ago. I’m not gonna take a picture but she’s lying on my bed w me right now. Yep. Shelley’s the one.

cute; what did you get on your last birthday?

Lol I was in rehab at the time actually. I didn’t talk much while I was there (social anxiety makes it like that) but one girl who overheard that it was my birthday asked me “are you gonna go home and do something special?” and I was like “idk maybe my mom got a cake or something.”

No I haven’t taken my birthday that seriously in years. It’s just kind of another day for me. I think that last time I did anything was back when I was a little prodigy recluse (I was sick again and out of school at the time) when I turned thirteen, I had lunch with my twin sister (whose birthday it obviously also was) and our best friend. When I turned sweet sixteen it was the first day of spring break and I stayed in my house and ate a bag of white chocolate on my bed because I had gotten my heart properly broken for the first time. And this year I received a lot of lovely messages. That was it.

kitty; what’s your favorite time of the day?

It depends on my sleep schedule. I like staying up late and being by myself (as long as it’s not forced staying awake by insomnia) and waking up early and being by myself.

love; what is your favorite season and why?

I know it’s sad but I never gave a damn about the weather. I don’t like any of them. I find winter the best because everything’s dead and no one expects me to go outside for fun.

prince; how would you describe your handwriting?

Just… messy. My fourth grade teacher preferred my cursive handwriting to my print (because my print was messy and my cursive was restrained and pain-stakingly practiced) and she used to just make me, in particular write everything in cursive while everyone else could write in print. So because of that I started drifting towards more cursive-style connecting my letters even when I was writing in print. And now it’s like… I don’t even know if I have the right to say I write in print ever? Almost every letter is connected, but it’s not proper cursive. And I know proper cursive. Sometimes I switch to it for just a word if it’s easier. I haven’t written “of” in print since I was like thirteen. When I was ten I was going through this really intense “I need to make myself girlier so people will like me” phase and in between buying like 20 tubes of lip smacker and shopping at justice, and convincing myself that if I just combed my hair instead of brushing it it would look all straight like my best friend’s and Jane Asher’s, I tried for a few months to write in that stereotypical “girly handwriting” that’s very blocky and straight. Yeah. It naturally shifted back into its course. I wish I could take pictures of my own handwriting for my poetry blog because I think it would look very Personal but the problem is it’s just so illegible what’s the point.

rainbow; what was the last line of the last book you read?

The last book I finished was either rereading Lady Windermere’s Fan for the thousandth time, or the Tempest for the first. I can’t remember because I’m always reading more than one book at a time. Of the Tempest is this lovely monologue (linking it to Marianne Faithfull’s reading from the end of her 1995 album A Secret Life because she’s lovely and actually does a great version of it, but my rant about how the songs from the Tempest are performed now to be “modern” will wait for another day).Of the Fan, it is Lady Windermere exclaiming “Ah! You’re marrying a very good woman.”

smitten; do you collect anything?

Anything of mine that might be called a “collection” is really more a result of happenstance than purpose. My CD collection is mostly old stuff I’m meaning to sell by now, my DVD collection is mostly movies I’d watch w my sister, and comics are really only a thing I collect because that’s… just how you read comics. I have a bunch of old diaries from 2008-2015 and I don’t plan on parting w those, I guess they could count as a collection. Or all my poetry notebooks from over the years. But again, that’s just how ya write.

snuggle; what is your favourite candy?

I like chocolate of almost any kind. Cotton candy is also really good.

sparkle; do you wear jewelry?

Naah I have ADHD. When I was in my earlier teen years I always wanted to be one of those cool pop punk kids who wore like 10 bracelets all the time but 1) money, nah, and 2) I can’t stand to wear anything nonessential, that just, dangles there. I’ll get distracted. I can’t even wear long sleeve shirts wo rolling them up, without being conscious of it, no matter how much I try.

sunshine; do you prefer for things to be practical or aesthetically pleasing?

I wouldn’t say many of my habits are either practical or aesthetically pleasing. I’m a mess and not just one to look at. I guess it depends on what you mean by “practical” because of course I want things to be not-completely-useless but I do have an appreciation of aesthetics. Not that I practice a lot in real life though that’s expensive.

♡ cute asks ♡

[supergirlimaginesfic-blog]

Lena x reader (I could use a little bit of you right now)

Request: Lena x reader : where you're kara's sibling and lena has a crush on you

a/n: this prompt was so fun to mess around with, so thank you for that!!! I feel like there was so much potential for ALL the dumb ideas and I just got so excited. Also, just assume you’re Alex’s biological sibling or something, nothing too deep. You’re a fam and it’s happy, that’s it LOL. I just absolutely love the Danvers sisters dynamic, and how much better is it if you get a little part in it too?

I’m a really big fan of Lena falling for someone who has pretty much the most Mundane daily routine. Like, her entire life is so full of Greatness and Legacy and constant threats of being killed, but really? Imagine being the person who gives Lena that so very desired sense of normalcy, and being the one to balance her life out like that. Imagine her coming home from L-Corp and just being able to be ordinary. I like that a lot, I think Lena deserves that

- - - - -

There are two facts you can rely on in life and it follows as such: 1. you’re about as adorably oblivious as your older sister, Kara. 2. Your other sister, Alex, will stop at absolutely nothing to constantly remind you of that aforementioned fact.

You weren’t the prone to getting hit by errant cars or finding yourself dealing with shady people type of clueless - you would in fact say you are a bit too aware of your surroundings for that, a lot in part having to do with having an alien and also a special forces secret agent in the family. But that’s all technicalities.

You wouldn’t even argue with your annoying big sister, Alex, if she’d ever say you were oblivious when it came to taking a hint and realizing that people were hitting on you - it seemingly took a lot for you to realize that, and that left for a plethora of laughable situations in retrospect whenever the three of you went out together.

For her part, Alex is owning the big shot, totally hot shit role really well and as the oldest sister, you figure she deserves that title. You’re loath to resist reminding her of how equally useless she was in the beginning stages of her relationship with Maggie - you’d get a very dark look in return and a noogie when you’d least expect it, and Alex has a killer headlock.

In the grand scheme of all things romantic, the Danvers siblings are a humble species of their own. It seemed that no one in your family had the time or the energy to spare for dating and delving into the world thereof. You would consider yourself a bit of a serial dater as well, not really convinced by the excitement and thrill which casual dating seemed to bring for a handful of your friends.

You’d had your fair share of love and heartbreak in your plentiful years of living, and by now you’d learned that if something was bound to happen, it would happen, and you’ve resigned to letting love or whatever else find you.

These are the thoughts you’d seemed to have when you were at work, a line cook job at a combined pizza bistro and music lounge you’d kept since high school.

It was a particularly slow lunch service, even for a restaurant at the heart of downtown National City, and this allowed you certain freedoms like connecting your phone to the speakers and letting your invariably questionable music taste blast throughout the kitchen - your coworkers won’t ever stop giving you shit for your immeasurably vast taste in music. You have music for all moods, damn it, and so help you if your playlist reflects your equally unpredictable shifts in mood.

Seeing as you had nothing else to do, and your boss was way too lax about really everything that could involve his business, you open your text messages and finally give yourself the chance to reply to some messages you’d gotten in the morning.

you: “lol work is so dead right now, I love being the normal sibling”

You chuckle to yourself as you reread your text message, totally honest in your self-evaluation. There weren’t many people in your life who would have reason to compare you to your big sisters - at least, not in the way one usually would find themselves when dealing with two other successful older siblings.

Sure, in civilian eyes Alex may be a doctor and Kara might be a journalist at a highly infamous media company, but you were and always will be the baby of the group, and you enjoyed certain liberties because of it.

Who cared if Alex was a special forces agent of a secret government organization, and who cared if Kara was literally Supergirl? You developed a comical nonchalance so early in your childhood to deal with having a new alien sister sprung on you, and you’ve brought your humour as a necessary coping mechanism with you into your adulthood.

When you were much younger, Alex might have been worrying about the very serious social conundrums a teenager could face and was preoccupied with not being too weird in school, but who really had the time for that? You certainly did not have time for Alex’s teenage foolishness - you enforced your weekly routine of visiting the public library to get your stack of books, it was all you asked for after all.

When you got older, you stayed very much a sensible young adult, begging Kara to play with wood and matches and setting things on fire with her eyes whenever Alex had to babysit you two.

And now, in your twenties, you were ever the same, content in your simplicity. Whenever Alex and Kara were worrying about the next threat to security, you waited in tense anticipation for the next big AAA game on your video game console to become available in National City.

You had modest concerns; when would you fix your broken guitar? When would you find the time to read that book you started years ago? You lived a simple life compared to your older sisters, and none of you have said it, but you all know it balanced everyone out.

Lena: “Normal, but not any less wonderful, surely? Though I’m certain Alex and Kara would have some choice words to say about your gloating ;) I’m just about to head off for my designated hour and a half of lunch. Jess is really starting to put her foot down regarding that.”

you: “I am absolutely the greatest Danvers, you are so right. All that genius of yours and I’ve never once doubted it, you should let Alex know this too”

you: “But good for Jess that she is, at least someone is using all that power for good...”

Lena: “Here I was about to ask for your recommendation of a stellar restaurant establishment with the most agreeable staff, one in which I could enjoy my lunch break in peace, but it seems as though you’re busy lecturing someone at the present moment...”

you: “Lecturing a certain someone for their inhumane workaholic tendencies?? it’s a sacrifice I make for the greater good”

you: “Come down and visit me? I’m bored :(”

Lena: “Well, since you asked so nicely. I will be seeing you in twenty minutes.”

You smile to yourself, chuckling at how amenable Lena is with you. For all that you’ve seen of her scary CEO facade, you’ve also seen so much of casual Lena Luthor - someone just as easygoing as you are.

You pity much of the world who are so set in their beliefs that she’s nothing more than the inherent evil that comes with her family name, but you’re also glad you’re one of the very few people who get to see her for who she really is - a wonderful, supremely intelligent, beautiful woman who, you’d eventually come to learn, has the very attractive ability of being able to laugh at herself.

It’s about fifteen minutes or so since you got Lena’s text message when the chit printer hums to life and notifies you of an order. You see that an order has been placed under the name of L. Luthor, and you grin at the paper.

You move to make the pizza and when you’re finished the order, you yell into the direction of the office - you don’t actually know where your boss went off to.

“Thomas, I’m taking my thirty!”

A muffled voice replies back from his office, “Go wild, kid.”

You don’t bother to wait for the morning server, Tarah, to come in to take the food, instead opting to wipe your hand quickly on the rag you’ve stuck in your back pocket before you’re moving into the dining area with the pizza in hand.

You see Lena sitting at a table closest to the wall, the elevated portion of the dining room faces the small music stage cozily. She smiles when she sees you make your way to her and she stands up to meet you.

You put the pizza down on the table and hesitate in front of her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling,” she takes quick note of your reluctance to touch her with your messy work clothes but she takes you in a hug anyway, smiling as you let yourself into her embrace.

“Must be a great day if you don’t care about flour getting all over you,” you smile when you see her fond exasperation.

“Do you really believe I’d come all this way to see your lovely face and not get my hug from you?”

You hum in contemplation. “Why, Miss Luthor, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’ve missed me.”

She smiles, a slight blush colouring her cheeks. “A most bold assumption, but not entirely untrue.”

You both sit down and you lean back into your chair.

“Well, for what it’s worth you didn’t have to order my favourite, you could have just gotten what you wanted,” you say, eyeing the food quizzically.

“Oh, it’s fine, I wouldn’t finish it anyway. If I understand correctly, this is your break too. It’s only fair since you’re using it to spend it with me.”

“Lena, not everything is a business deal. I like spending time with you. I love that you come to visit me whenever I whine about being bored, and I absolutely love this pizza.”

You grab a slice and barely managed to drop it onto your plate, seeming to forget that a hot pizza means it just came out of the oven. You shake out your hand and blow on it to ease the slight burn on your fingers.

Lena smiles softly at your words, her eyes crinkle with amusement at your clumsiness.

“My compliments to the chef,” she says cheekily.

“Thank you,” you reply after a bite of pizza, not caring about the burn you’ll get on the roof of your mouth.

“So, (Y/N), how has your life been lately? Spare no details.”

“In the last few hours since we texted this morning? Nothing particularly exciting, I wasn’t kidding about the utter normalcy on my end.”

“Ah, well, simplicity is desirable isn’t it?” She tilts her head at you in question.

“Oh, yeah, I’m really not complaining. Life’s great as it is. I like where I’m at. I’ve got enough money to do what I want, a job that lets me get away with all the tattoos and piercings I could possibly want, my sisters are awesome, I’m sharing a pizza with Lena Luthor,” you grin as you take note of her raised eyebrow and the smirk she’s giving you.

“You love bugging me, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m not entirely joking.” Suddenly, you remember the conversation you had earlier with your boss.

“Right, I forgot! Thomas said the usual act that plays here, apparently their guitarist is out of commission. So I get to play with them for a few nights, I’ll get my usual wage and some band money on the side for it too!”

“That’s so exciting! I would love to see you play, I know you’ve mentioned often how much you miss playing the guitar. Would you be getting your own fixed at some point then?”

You smile at her enthusiasm. You feel the slight dip in your chest and have no time to ponder the new level of excitement you feel at Lena watching you on stage.

“Uh, yeah- yes! Yes, that would actually be so awesome, I’d love it if you came, if you had the time, of course. I know L-Corp gets really busy sometimes so if it’s really late, you don’t need to worry about-”

“(Y/N),” she interrupts your rambling. She’s pointed out in the past how very much like Kara you are in that aspect, something she’s never failed to mention how adorable it is. “I will make time for you, if you would like me there.”

“You know I would love you there.”

“So, it’s settled. Just give me the time and I’ll be there, front row cheering and all.”

She winks at you and your eyes widen slightly as you feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You hope she doesn’t notice the sudden gulp you have to take for your suddenly dry throat.

“Uh- also,” you say hoarsely, and you cringe at your failing voice. You clear your throat hastily before you continue.

“Also, tonight, the superfriends are going out for drinks. You should come with, so far it’d just be us, Kara, Alex is bringing Maggie I think, and Winn will be there too. We won’t actually be out too late this time, if that makes a difference for you.”

She tilts her head in question, regarding you in silence. You begin to feel slightly uneasy after a few moments without an answer before she smiles softly at you.

“Would the others be okay with that?”

You stare dumbly at her, blinking several times as if to process whether she was joking or not.

“Of course they would, why wouldn’t they?”

Lena hums in answer and takes a sip of her water. You lean across the table to grab her hand, feeling the softness of it under your slightly calloused hands and you’re pleased when she doesn’t move away.

“Lena, they would be delighted if you were there. If you aren’t comfortable, I totally understand, and we can have a rain check for whenever you’d like-”

“Thank you, (Y/N).” She smiles earnestly at you and flips her hand in yours, intertwining her fingers with yours. “I’d love to join you tonight.”

“Excellent.” Your eyes light up in excitement. “Can’t wait to see how soon you’ll get sick of me with all these plans of ours.”

Her expression shifts in admonition, “I don’t think I could get sick of you.”

“Don’t challenge the gods like that, Luthor.”

She laughs at your dramatics and moves to leave. “I suppose I’ll let you go now, I’m sure your boss is wondering where you’ve gone off to.”

“No way, he really doesn’t care, plus he loves me too much. He’s probably doing important things anyway.” You make an exaggerated gesture of smoking an invisible blunt.

“Oh, of course.” Lena replies in sage understanding. “Alright, darling. It is always such a pleasure to see you. Thank you for this.”

You stand up to hug Lena and you sigh contently at the feel of her in your arms. She pulls away and kisses you on the cheek, gathers her belongings and leaves you reeling at the touch.

You barely manage to wave goodbye to her when she’s walking out the door, and you smile at her newly developed habit. It’s only recently she’d started doing that - kissing you on the cheek - and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it if your reaction is anything to go by.

You finish the last few hours of your shift and wait in anticipation for the night’s activities. Kara comes home just half an hour after you and even without her super speed, the way she rushes into the apartment, drops her belongings at the door, and flops dramatically onto the couch face first all in one motion tells you enough about her day.

“Aliens or asshole people?”

“Being a total jerk is a universal problem, apparently.”

You smile at her evaluation. “Such is the greatest downfall of the galaxy! And as someone who’s been to twelve different planets, you mean that literally.”

She grins at your parroted words - she’d said the same exact thing about chocolate pecan pie being the best dessert ever last Thanksgiving.

“You always were the smarter one.”

You sigh extravagantly and wave your arm in a flourish meant to whack her. “Oh, dear sister, you flatter me so!”

You both laugh at your theatrics and Kara moves to rest her head in your lap. You’ve turned the TV on to something that isn’t the news and she sighs happily; you’d never admit it but your sister always made you so soft whenever she did this, and you loved it when she did.

“Thomas is letting me play for the band at work and he’s paying me double for it.”

“Whoa! Superstar!” She looks up and grins proudly at you.

“Lena said a similar thing.”

“Oh, Lena! I got to interview her today. She looks a lot happier these days.”

“It seems that way. I managed to convince her to sneak out of work today, maybe it’s just getting slower at L-Corp and she can actually breathe again.”

Kara looks up at you again, tilts her head in consideration. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, we got to have a quick conversation during my break. She might drop by for one of the nights I’m playing the gig. And I’ve also invited her to go drinking tonight, is that cool?”

Kara looks at you with a strange smile on her face. “(Y/N), of course it’s cool,” is all she says.

You squint your eyes at her and ignore her strange look. “Sweet, thanks.”

“She’s our friend, in fact we could even say she’s family.”

“Okay, weirdo.”

You smirk at what you know is Kara’s deeply affronted look, you can practically hear the offense her expression is taking and your eyes never leave the TV screen.

You’re about forty minutes into an obscure talk show and Kara is deeply interested in the food making portion of the show when you hear the rattle of a doorknob working.

Alex walks in to the apartment and, like clockwork, Kara yells for your sister like a puppy who’s been waiting for its people to come home, and Alex just slightly cringes at the excessive volume of her welcome.

“Hello, crew,” she announces into the room.

You lift your arm lazily above your head in greeting, letting it fall back down so the impact thumps near Kara’s head. She grunts at the action and you grin at the reaction.

“Lena’s coming with us tonight,” Kara calls to Alex, who’s already rifling through the kitchen for something to eat and surprisingly, doesn’t find anything worth eating in Kara’s fully stocked fridge.

“Oh? That will be fun.”

“(Y/N) invited her. Apparently they had a nice conversation today at lunch.”

“Kara, I’m right here, I could just tell Alex myself.”

“Oh, sorry! Stealing your thunder, go ahead and tell her.”

You squint your eyes in confusion at her, only vaguely suspicious by her exceedingly bizarre behaviour.

“There’s nothing to tell, I don’t know why this is such a story.”

“Are you gonna tell Alex about your new job?” Kara supplies excitedly.

You roll your eyes at Kara but are interrupted by Alex ruffling your hair as she comes around the couch. She sits herself on top of Kara’s legs and drops unceremoniously, grinning mischievously when Kara whines at having to make room.

“So what’s this? What new job?” Alex asks when Kara finally relents.

“It’s not a job, but thank you for your helpful recollection, Kara. The boss is letting me fill in for one of the guitarists since our usual band’s dude is out for a while.”

“That’s so great, (Y/N). That’ll be awesome for you. Are we gonna make a party out of it? Want us to bring the fanfare?”

Before you can say anything, Kara butts in again. “Lena’s already invited. Apparently she’s got first dibs.”

You click your tongue at her and smack her with a pillow. You’re beginning to become aware of the space around you - or lack thereof - when Kara shifts and everybody groans in protest. The couch has always been too full of Danvers siblings, but it’s a well loved couch because of it.

“Lena does not have first dibs of anything, I just happened to tell her first.”

“Right, okay.” Alex smirks at you and Kara is giving her a look. You decide it’s best to ignore them both, dismissing it as their mysterious older sister connection.

Alex persists though. “Anything else you want to share with us? Lena’s doing great these days?”

“No, nothing else that is worth mentioning despite what you two gossip-hounds might think. Why are you both so keen about my life all of a sudden anyway? Why don’t we interrogate Alex for once? Alex, how are you and Maggie?”

“Oh? You wanna know? It’s just the best. Our sex life? You would not believe-”

“Jesus, nevermind!” You backtrack immediately and groan in protest, Kara singing some made-up song to drone out Alex’s voice. Alex talks through the noise easily and Kara keeps singing louder, you grumble and resign to wait valiantly for one of them to give up.

You hear a notification coming from your phone and move to pick it up from the table, not entirely caring whether the movement will shove Kara to the floor or not. You’re a mixture of staring in a daze and a silly smile plastered on your face when you see the message Lena has sent you.

Lena: “Your advice would be much appreciated, is 1 or 2 more suitable?”

Lena: DSC_09281.jpg

Lena: DSC_09282.jpg

You look at the message and your curiosity gets the best of you. You open up the first image and your eyes widen at the picture. Lena’s taken a mirror selfie, her pose showing off a backless black dress that falls just over her mid thigh.

When you open the second attachment, your eyes gravitate where they shouldn’t when you take in Lena’s low-cut white shirt and the tight-fitting black slacks that fit snugly to her legs.

Taking in every detail, you’ve effectively forgotten that you’re supposed to actually give an answer, and you must be quiet a long time because your sisters snap you out of your reverie.

“Hot date?” Alex’s voice cuts into your daze.

“No, I think it’s Lena,” Kara says.

You hear Alex muttering something that sounds suspiciously like same shit but you’re too focused on Lena’s new distraction and how she’s so easily rendered you useless. Somehow, you find the will to text back.

you: “You’re a marvel, Miss Luthor. I must say, I am always a sucker for a black dress but... stay casual. It’s your night out, you can forget the CEO theatrics for one night, right? ;) it could get colder later anyway, who knows what the gang could get up to tonight”

Lena: “Charming and chivalrous, how ever can you say no one has scooped you up yet? I will take your advice. Thank you, darling. See you tonight :)”

“Are you done sexting your girlfriend?” Alex asks cheekily and Kara actually admonishes her this time. Still, it doesn’t stop the blush rushing to your cheeks.

“We are definitely not sexting.”

Alex scoffs incredulously. “You sure as hell could have fooled me.”

You make a pointed effort to ignore Alex’s snickering and Kara’s amused smile.

“If you two are done, we should probably get ready soon.”

“What? It’s only 6, are you that excited?” Alex remarks, a grin still plastered on her face.

“Well, Kara here takes her sweet time getting ready when we’re going out, you know this.”

“Hey!” Kara butts in, “How am I supposed to enjoy the process if I use my super speed all the time?”

“The process of singing your obnoxious 2000s era pop music while we wait for you to hurry up? The kid’s actually right for once, Kara.” Alex retorts.

You drum your hands on Kara’s arm and Alex stands up to free Kara from her captivity on the couch. She slowly slides off of you onto the floor and you nudge her annoyingly with your foot until she starts moving.

With all the bickering and your various degrees of sassy attitudes, the three of you eventually pile out of the apartment at a reasonable hour.

Maggie and Winn are the first ones at the bar and have saved a booth with a small table. You greet your friends who have just ordered their drinks when you get a text from Lena that lets you know she’s on her way.

Still, it was as if nothing could have prepared you for when you glanced around and saw her approaching from the corner of your eye.

You’re probably caught staring for a socially unacceptable amount of time because Alex has lightly punched you in the arm, smirking as she inconspicuously drinks her beer in mock innocence.

You don’t have time to cuss her out when you feel the soft touch of a hand on your back and feel your skin light up suddenly - the entirety of your side that is touching Lena might as well have been on fire.

Lena is greeting the table easily and even high fives Winn, who’s sticking his tongue out at Alex who rolls her eyes at his nerdy tendencies.

“Hello, darling. Long time no see,” she whispers into your ear and waits for you to turn to her.

When you face her, she pauses momentarily before she kisses your cheek in greeting and you feel yourself combust again.

“Hey, Lena.” You’re relieved the music in the bar is loud enough to veil your hoarse voice. Maggie’s eyebrows are raised to her hairline. She gives a knowing look to Alex who’s watching your interaction with a smirk.

Everyone moves to settle into the table again and you can feel her sit close to you. You ponder the idea of accidentally spilling water on yourself to douse the fire that’s currently consuming you from Lena’s closeness.

“Have you all ordered already? The next one’s on my tab.”

“Uh, actually, I went ahead and got your usual for you with our order, if that’s alright. I just presumed, you can get something else if you want, it’d be my fault anyway if-”

“(Y/N),” you can hear her how deliciously your name sounds in that melodiously low voice of hers, “you’re fine. Thank you.”

She smirks at you, places a hand on your forearm that’s resting on the table. You have a suspicion Lena Luthor is going to be the death of you tonight.

The rest of the drinks come to the table and you’re all sorting yourselves out when Alex speaks up.

“So, have you all heard yet? There’s a rockstar in the family.” She announces loudly to the table, and despite the slight embarrassment you feel from her zealous enthusiasm, you know deep down she’s genuinely happy for you.

“What’s this all about?” Maggie turns to look at you.

“The bossman’s letting me play some gigs with the band. I’ll be the filler guitarist for a while at the restaurant.”

“Hey, no way! That is wicked, are we allowed to watch?” Winn asks excitedly, clutching his drink close to him since he’s sitting right beside Kara - she is notorious for her extra level of clumsiness in a close proximity setting, for whatever reason.

“Lena’s already got front row and VIP, backstage too.” Alex remarks, and you know she’s on a mission to push your buttons from the mischief that’s evident in her eyes.

Lena merely smiles at the group, raises her drink, “I’ll cheers to that.”

Everyone whoops and hollers noisily, Kara and Winn banging their hands on the table as Alex takes a swig of her beer, Maggie leaning in to say something to her.

“Remember me when you become famous,” Lena winks at you.

“Of course, we could give the tabloids something to talk about all the time.” Your eyes widen dramatically, and you smile at her laughter.

The better part of the night is spent in an increasingly buzzed haze. The conversation between the group flows steadily and at some point, Kara has convinced Winn to dance with her and you’re nearly in hysterics when you catch his pained expression.

Maggie and Lena are standing near the bar and have fallen into an engaging discussion, apparently regarding some sci-fi TV show called Dark Matter, if you recall correctly.

You feel Alex slip into the seat beside you.

“I’m tired,” is all she says.

“Oh, did you wanna go now? Were you going to leave with Maggie or something? We could-”

“Of watching you and Lena tiptoeing around the large elephant in this room that is so aptly called why are you two not dating yet.”

You stare dumbfounded at her. “Why would I do that?”

Alex gives you a look that very clearly says, are you kidding me?, and she doesn’t need to say anything for you to get it. Despite that, she presses on.

“Okay, you know what, that’s fair, if you’re not into her like that I don’t want to pressure you. I’m just saying if you’re feeling it, you have nothing to lose, in my eyes.”

“I like Lena, and I love spending time with her, and seeing her makes my day all the time. She’s a really great friend and such an incredible person, and I really think I see a lot of her that nobody else gets to see. But I don’t really know if she’d be into that and I don’t want to ruin what we have going on by making her uncomfortable with whatever feelings I think I have-”

“(Y/N), are you serious?”

You look at your sister and realize there’s a telling lack of ulterior motive in her expression. She’s being serious, and that makes you pay attention.

She sighs deeply, dramatically throws an arm over your shoulder when your silence answers for itself.

“I can’t believe it, I think I’ve failed you as a sister. This is such a sad moment in my life.” She brings you in close to her so you can hear her clearly.

“Alright, here are the facts, these are actual things that have occurred and I’m not making them up. These are things that you know, but are also things you don’t actually know if you really do believe Lena wouldn’t be more than okay if you asked her out. She kisses you on the cheek-”

“She does that all the time.”

“With you, yes.”

You have no rebuttal to that.

“She always makes time to see you.”

“She sees Kara too...”

“For work, idiot. Even then Kara has to go to her.”

“What if I just happen to get her whenever she’s free?”

“She’s free all the time for you, kid. That’s the point. She’ll make time for you.”

You can’t seem to argue with that fact. You’re considering Alex’s observations when Kara slides up to your other side, seemingly out of nowhere and already cognizant of the conversation you’re having with Alex.

“You know, Lena asks about you all the time during our interviews.”

You nearly choke on your own breath when you hear her voice close to your ear - you swear she’s some sort of ninja sometimes, and she’s going to scare you to near death one of these days.

“See, Kara wouldn’t lie to you,” Alex nods her exaggeratedly.

“She has this faraway look in her eyes too. She loves hearing about all the things we’d get up to as kids. Oh, like just a few days ago I told her the one time about you and the peanut butter incident when you were eight-”

“Kara!” You interrupt her rambling, the only thing you got from her rambling comment was that she’s brought up the peanut butter incident with Lena, and you’re just a little bit mortified.

Kara continues anyway, and it’s becoming apparent that neither of your sisters can be stopped tonight.

“She always brings you up somehow, it’s so cute,” her nose scrunches in delight. “It’s like you’re constantly on her mind, the way you always manage to get into our conversations.”

Alex adds on to the tail end of Kara’s comment, “just look at the way she acts around you as opposed to when she’s with Maggie or Winn for example. She’s different with you. You talk often and you’ve become some comfortable part of each other’s lives. You’re both pretty much already there, just without the label.”

You’ve been listening carefully to Alex and Kara’s admissions. You consider their words and think back in retrospect, looking for any hints in your interactions with Lena that your sisters could be right - you know deep down that they are, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less apprehensive.

“Just think about it, think about taking the risk that’s pretty much already a win. We’re your big sisters, we know these things,” Alex smirks confidently and pats you roughly on the shoulder, taking her arm away to reach for her drink.

Then, she adds as an afterthought, “But really, no matter how much we bug you, that doesn’t mean we’re out to actually hurt you. I think if I, and even Kara can see that you and Lena getting together doesn’t have to stay some pointless dream, there’s some basis in what we’re telling you. I think you don’t need to worry about Lena’s feelings in this, kiddo.”

Just then, your gaze wanders to Lena and she looks up and catches your eye. She smiles softly at you and focuses her attention back to Maggie.

Alex effectively destroys the last lingering moments of the emotional intimacy that’s been shared in your impromptu sibling bonding, true to her trademark way, “I really can’t believe that you can’t see Lena having the biggest ladycrush on you.”

“Ask her to watch a movie, I think she’d like that,” Kara adds encouragingly.

You decide to take her word on the entire matter just slightly more than you’ll take Alex’s - you know that Kara has had more deep talks with Lena and could probably give you plenty of helpful hints.

You decide then and there you’re going to do something about all your newfound information. You’ve got your intel and pretty much your sisters’ blessings, and you know if you don’t do this now, you’re probably going to wait another few months for the next wave of confidence to inspire you.

Alex is nodding her head approvingly at you and Kara’s got the biggest smile on her face, both thumbs up like a dork in her own supportive way.

Maggie turns to look at you when she sees you walk up to Lena. She winks at you and pats you on the back as she leaves, a sudden wave of who the hell else is in on the woes of my lovelife? overcomes you in that brief moment but you have no time to contemplate it.

“Hey, stranger.” Lena smiles when she sees you taking in her figure.

She’s leaning up against the bar, looking so relaxed and confident. She wore the outfit you suggested earlier and you almost forget why you walked up to her in the first place. No need to worry, however - you got this.

“Alex and Kara said we should make plans,” you blurt out.

Somewhere in your mind, you can hear the imperceptible sound of something that sounds much like a farting noise in response to your utter lack of cool - no doubt indicative of your very obvious inability to form coherent thoughts whenever Lena made you nervous, which was precisely what was occurring at this very moment. Maybe you don’t “got this”.

Lena’s lips twist into an amused smirk, she tilts her head at you in good nature. “What plans did you have in mind?”

“Things we could do together? I guess?” Your voice takes on a high pitch as your sentence trails off, your eyes widen at your rapid decline in behaving in a way that won’t scare Lena off.

“I mean, like- did you want a movie or something? To go to a movie, did you want to go to a movie, and watch one? At my place? Or yours? It’s all up to you, if you’re even interested at all-”

You shut yourself up when Lena comes up close to you, nearly chest to chest as you watch her gaze trail from your eyes to your lips, and then back again. Your hand is clenched into a fist on the bar - you can’t move it now, not when Lena is standing so close and really, nothing but your clothes would be in the way-

“(Y/N),” you can feel the ghost of her breath on your lips. You inhale sharply, but somehow you still feel breathless. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah- yes! Alone? We could do things, like a date? With me?”

The tension between you and Lena is so palpable and in those few moments of silence where it’s just you two staring at each other, you can feel the vague sense of rejection only start to manifest before she speaks up.

“I would love to do things like a date, alone, with you.” She smiles and puts a hand on your other arm, running her hand gently to soothe your obvious nervousness.

You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding, jaw slightly slack with disbelief at what you’ve just accomplished.

“Oh, alright- yeah, that’s- just like that then? That’s it?”

Suddenly, she has an eyebrow raised in a slight challenge. “Is there anything else you wanted?” she asks teasingly.

The expression on your face makes her laugh, and you flush instantly when you catch the implication. You think then, maybe you should just stop talking.

In some small mercy to spare you from your embarrassment, Lena closes what’s left of the distance between you, moves her arms so they rest gently on your shoulders and brings you in easily.

Your hands find their way naturally onto her waist as she presses herself flush against you, and you feel relief at the contact you’ve been craving. She slowly pulls you in and waits to see if you want to move away. When you’re stock still and watching wide-eyed in anticipation, she brings her lips to the corner of your mouth and gives you the softest, just barely there kiss.

Some whispered “holy shit” escapes you in that momentary explosion of sensation, but you’ve lost all inhibitions to care about your pride at this very moment.

Lena laughs at your reaction, biting her lip in fond amusement when she watches your happy grin.

“I think you should know, I’ve found myself to be rather enamoured with you for quite the long while,” she says.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, I might daresay I was even beginning to grow a little impatient with you.”

“What, at me? How-”

“Shall we discuss it all over brunch? I’ve plenty of things to say about you taking your sweet time with me.”

She smiles at your stuttering protests, she’s really got you for a spin. “Would tomorrow be too soon for you?”

“No! No, not at all- brunch tomorrow, that is great, yes. All good on my end.” You’re a bit of a hasty mess right now, but you’ll worry about your lack of composure another day.

For a moment, she looks like she’s going to go back in for a kiss. You think you see her eyes flutter down to your lips, you can just feel the feather-light touch of her lips again and frankly, you crave it.

“I do think we should head back to the others, though.”

You resist every compulsion in your body to groan, and you think the sentiment is shared when Lena laughs softly. “We’ll have all the time in the world to spend with each other, darling. I promise you that.”

For all that you’ve achieved tonight and for the new, exciting turn your relationship with Lena has taken, you still feel like you’re going to burst into flames when she puts her hand on your knee under the table and keeps it there, squeezing in laughter when Maggie makes a sassy remark about Winn, rubbing it gently in the middle of Kara’s long-winded retelling of her superhero adventures.

You figure the Danvers siblings all ended up being right - Alex and Kara had great advice that paid off in the end, and you? You knew Lena Luthor would be the death of you tonight, and you realize you’ll never quite get used to her; her touches that set your skin ablaze, her easy smiles that inspired a newfound strength in you, the light feeling of flying you get whenever you look at her.

[phoenixyfriend]

Voltron Paladins on: Who’s the hottest Young Avenger?

I’m posting this as a one-shot to tumblr because it can feasibly stand alone as a fic, but it’s actually an omake of sorts for the Voltron fic Just a Little Death. The only things you need to know are:

1. The paladins figured out a way to get into contact with home, and have gotten some things. Lance’s family sent him a kindle loaded with a bunch of things he likes, including comics. 2. Some of the characterization may seem a bit unusual, because this scene takes place after after eighteen chapters in JaLD.

Other than that... well, warnings and such under the cut. This is almost three thousand words of nonsense.

If you happen to be a fan of Cheung's V1 artwork or aren't comfortable with the idea of someone poking fun at Tommy Shepherd, maaaybe skip this. I’m not as careful as usual about keeping my biases under wraps here.

Anyways! There's a bit of a ramble in there about Noh-Varr, so I need to lay out some warnings.

WARNINGS: Mentions of mind control, torture, medical experimentation, and mass murder (all to or by a minor, because Noh's life is a shitshow for a while).

o.o.o.o.o

“Bullshit,” Lance said, slamming a hand down on the table. “That is just… such bullshit.”

“My tastes and your tastes are not the same,” Hunk said. “You asked who I thought the hottest character was, and my answer is Teddy.”

“How?” Lance whined. “How can you pick anyone other than Noh-Varr? Like, I can maybe see Kate or America, but anyone else? Sorry, buddy. The space roach wins.”

“You know,” Pidge said from the doorway. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I kind of want to know just based on the fact that I heard something that was almost my name.”

“There’s a comic that Lance likes from like… the turn of the century,” Hunk said.

“2012 was not the turn of the century,” Lance argued.

“Called Young Avengers,” Hunk continued, like Lance hadn’t just interrupted.

“Written by Kieron Gillen, illustrated by Jamie McKelvie,” Lance said. “A dynamic duo of comics if there ever was one.”

Hunk shot him a look.

“…fine, for that era. Stan Lee and Jack Kirby are the true heroes, as always, may their souls rest in peace despite the misogyny of many of their works,” Lance allowed. “Anyway, I got Hunk to read the comics a while back, and I was expecting him to make the obvious choice when asked who the hottest Young Avenger was.”

“I still say it’s Teddy.”

“And I still say you’re wrong. Noh-Varr is straight up pin-up boy material.”

“This is exactly the kind of bullshit that I’m glad I missed out on back at the Garrison,” Pidge said.

Keith poked his head into the room. “I heard yelling. Is there a fight happening?”

“Why don’t we get Pidge and Keith to weigh in?” Hunk suggested.

“Fine,” Lance sniffed. “I’m sure they’ll make the right choice. Let me just get the right pictures up.”

He fiddled with the tablet his siblings had sent along.

“Your brother and sister sent you digital comics from half a century ago?” Keith asked.

“I think Tío Ricardo just added everything he thought I might miss, and since this is my favorite series…” Lance shrugged. “Okay, so I’ve got a group shot and a couple of solos.”

“Which group shot?”

“Kate’s getting a call from Freud.”

“…right, the harpoon! Okay, so the solos: anyone from V1?”

“Nah. Cassie’s too young for it to be comfortable during her time with the team, especially with how unnecessarily sexual some of the art of her gets in V1. Like, she’s fourteen? Stop ripping her clothes off and highlighting her boobs? Same goes for Nate and Jonas on the age thing, and Eli is an age thing too, but also just… I love him, but Cheung’s art style. It doesn’t do anyone favors, but it’s especially harsh on Eli.”

“Why do you hate Cheung’s art style so much?”

“Have you looked at V1 or Children’s Crusade?”

“The writing wasn’t bad!”

“The writing was mostly fine and absolutely what made me love Eli. But you have to admit that Cheung’s art style is really same-face syndrome and that it’s just plain messy and… why. Why. McKelvie’s got a bunch of same-face too, but at least it’s clean and I can tell who’s who in the close-ups and he isn’t sexualizing fourteen-year-olds.” Lance buried his face in his hands. Hunk patted him on the back.

“Moving on… Kid Loki shape or Agent Loki shape?”

“He’s kid shape in the group shot, but just after the age-up in the solo.”

“David?”

“Tried to find something out of uniform, but no dice except the party, and his big scene wasn’t even in McKelvie’s style, so… yeah, uniform.”

“Tommy?”

“Do I have to?”

“Lance…”

“He’s such a fuckboy, though!”

“Still part of the team.”

“Barely.”

“They traveled dozens, if not hundreds, of universes to save him.”

“…I mean, I did add his picture to the set. I just, you know, don’t want him to win.”

Hunk snorted. “Okay, thene. I’m guessing you probably added those shirtless Noh shots from the first issue.”

“Noh-Varr’s hot, okay?” Lance brought the back of his hand up to his forehead. “Like, absolutely smoking hot. Like Uptown Funk ‘Hot damn’ hot. Like, ‘the things I would do to that man…’ hot.”

“Lance, are you okay?”

“No.”

Hunk bit his lip, suppressing a grin, and then seemed to realize something. “Wait, are we including villains?”

“I mean… I guess? Why? You’re not going for Oubliette, right?”

“What? No, of course, not. But dude… Leah.”

“This is true.” Lance nodded. “I mean, she’s terrifying, but at least that version of her isn’t entirely real even in-universe?”

“Or Loki would be dead.”

“So dead,” Lance said emphatically. “Also, if we’re talking hot YA villains, then…”

“Don’t.”

“Sylvie Lushton.”

“How is your taste in comic book villains so bad?”

“I’m not saying she’s a good person! But, you know, she’s hot!” Lance protested.

“Also kind of evil and not exactly the brightest bulb in the box.”

“Still hot, Hunk.”

“Hi, I have a question,” Pidge interrupted. “Which of these guys is the smartest?”

Lance put a hand over Hunk’s face before he could answer. “We’re talking aesthetics only. No choosing based on intelligence. You can revamp your choice later if we change criteria, but right now we’re only going on aesthetic hotness.”

“Boo you, whore,” Pidge said, then stuck out her tongue at him. She looked down at the page again, and then pointed. “Okay, in that case… her.”

“America Chavez?” Lance eyed Pidge for a moment, and then nodded. “Acceptable.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she told him. “But yeah. She looks ready to kick ass and I guess the expression on her face is appealing? She looks like she’s not taking anyone’s shit, and also I like her hair.”

“This is a pretty good summary of her basic surface personality,” Lance acknowledged. “She’s deeper than that, but it takes some reading between the lines, or rereading after the reveal at the end, to realize, especially if you don’t read the point one issue.”

“I’m torn,” Keith announced. “Can I get names for these guys, at least?”

“Real or code?”

“…real?”

Lance pointed to each character in turn. “Noh-Varr, Kate Bishop, Loki, Billy Kaplan, Tommy Shepherd, Teddy Altman, David Alleyne, America Chavez.”

“Tommy and Billy are identical twins, but Tommy’s hair and eyes changed color when his mutant powers manifested,” Hunk added.

“The Tommy guy is in a different style from the others,” Keith noted.

“They had guest artists for the issues he featured in most,” Lance explained. “Couldn’t really find a clear picture of him in McKelvie’s style.”

Keith nodded, looking down at the pictures. After a moment, he pointed at David and Tommy.

“No,” Lance gasped dramatically. “You traitor.”

“Oh boy,” Hunk muttered.

“Listen,” Keith said, obviously holding back a laugh. “I have my reasons.”

“How could you choose Tommy over Noh-Varr?”

“Well, the Noh-Varr guy looks like he’s about to try to convince me to try his weed brownies or free range quinoa,” Keith said.

“That’s not a thing,” Hunk said. “That’s… that’s not even logically possible. Quinoa’s not an animal product. It can’t be free-range.”

“Exactly,” Keith said, as though that explained everything, which it kind of did. “Meanwhile, this Tommy guy looks like he’s about to ask me to help him hotwire a car for the hell of it.”

Lance’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and then he whirled around and draped himself over Hunk. He wailed, “Betrayed! By the one closest to me!”

“What does that make me, then?” Hunk asked. “If Keith is the closest?”

“You’re not just close to me, Hunk, you’re part of me,” Lance said, as though it should have been obvious.

“Ah, right, of course.” Hunk nodded and patted Lance’s back.

“Anyway,” Lance said, and then went back to wailing. “Oh, the horror! The humanity! Keith has betrayed me!”

“I really hope this is just Lance being dramatic about something relatively inconsequential again instead of something serious,” Shiro said from the door. “Please tell me this isn’t something I need to actually worry about.”

“Keith thinks that Lance’s favorite character isn’t as hot as Lance’s least favorite,” Pidge said.

“Tommy Shepherd is a fuckboy, okay?” Lance whined.

“You mean like you?” Shiro asked, keeping his voice mild.

Dead silence reigned for a moment.

“…Should I not have said that?” Shiro asked, sounding a little more nervous. “I may have overstepped a line. Ah. I’m sor—”

“Ooooooooooooooooh!” Pidge yelled, Hunk joining in after a moment.

Lance let his eyes roll up and pretended to faint, right into Hunk’s loving arms.

“Lance Álvarez has been found dead in Miami,” Pidge announced, deadpan.

“Oh god, is he okay?” Hunk asked, not even looking down at Lance in his arms.

“Yeah, but he’s dead.”

“You guys suck,” Lance moaned, getting back up. He turned back to Keith. “Wait, what about David?”

“He looks like he could stare down a bomb without even twitching. Like he’s just that dead inside because he’s seen so much shit.” Keith tapped the picture. “Basically, he seems like the guy that’s sitting off to the side mostly quiet but offering sarcastic comments whenever someone does something stupid.”

“You’re not that far off,” Shiro said. “David’s experiences in everything are fairly expansive, due to the mental osmosis that his original powerset consisted of.”

“Wait, Shiro, you’ve read YA?” Lance demanded.

“…yes? I preferred Runaways, but—”

“Which Young Avenger is the hottest?” Lance demanded, scrambling away from Hunk and towards Shiro. He stopped just a foot or two away, visibly restraining himself from grabbing Shiro’s hands and pulling them up to his chin.

Shiro looked at him for a long moment, wide-eyed and surprised. “Um… I haven’t thought about it in a while?”

“Stick to V2 since all the V1-only characters are too young,” Lance suggested. “Aesthetic hotness only.”

Shiro looked down at the tablet that was still on the table and bit his lip. “I’m… going to have to with Marvel Boy and Hawkeye?”

“Yes!” Lance yelled, pumping his fist in the air. “Fuck yeah! Noh-Varr’s the hottest!”

“Ah,” Shiro said. “Who did the rest of you choose?”

“Teddy,” Hunk said. “Pidge chose America. Keith decided that he was torn between Tommy and David.”

“Nobody chose Billy, then?” Shiro asked. “Or Loki?”

“Billy’s more sweet than hot, I think,” Lance said. “Even aesthetically. Same thing goes for Teddy, I’d say, but Hunk’s got his own weird tastes.”

“And Loki just doesn’t suit anyone’s tastes?”

“He spends two-thirds of the comic as a twelve-year-old, and the last third looking like he’s about to try to sell you snake oil as a hair tonic,” Lance mused. “So. That might be it. Loki’s more appealing in AoA, honestly. I feel like Lee Garbett’s style is better suited to that Loki than Jamie McKelvie’s.”

“Hm. I’d have expected Pidge to like David the most, but I guess if she doesn’t know anything about him, and just had to go by image, America makes sense.” Shiro swiped through the tablet. “That is… definitely a lot of shirtless Noh-Varr shots.”

“I’m not sure what you expected from me,” Lance said.

“What’s so special about David?” Pidge asked. “Why does Shiro think I should like David the most?”

Lance exchanged a look with Hunk and Shiro, then turned back to Pidge. “Do you want to download some of my comics so you and Keith can read some? My uncle downloaded pretty much my entire online comics library onto here.”

“I don’t know… I’m more of a DC kind of girl.”

“I’ve got some DC and Image on here, too.”

“The Image comics are more Gillen and McKelvie, unsurprisingly,” Hunk said.

“Phonogram and WicDiv are fucking works of art, Hunk!”

“I never finished WicDiv…” Shiro mused. “I got spoilers, but…”

Lance pressed his tablet into Shiro’s chest, wide-eyed. “My poor man: I have them. Read.”

Allura and Coran walked in on five paladins near-silently reading comics half an hour later.

“Allura!” Lance yelled, scrambling to his feet and switching windows on his tablet to the earlier set of pictures. “Quick question: which of these characters would you say is the most physically attractive?”

Allura blinked at him, and then down at the tablet. “Why are there so many pictures of this one shirtless?”

“Because he’s my favorite,” Lance said, utterly unashamed.

“…I can see why, but that one hanging bang of white hair reminds me too much of Lotor,” Allura admitted. “Both of the girls are very attractive, though, and I like the hairstyle and the fabric that this one is wearing.”

She tapped the screen, right over Billy.

Lance squinted down at the photo, and then back up at Allura. “At least you didn’t betray me like Keith.”

“Are you serious?” Keith asked. “Are you going to bring that up forever?”

“You picked Tommy,” Lance repeated. “You picked Tommy in an argument of attractiveness when Noh-Varr was an option.”

“You do realize that half the reason he did that was to fuck with you, right?” Pidge said.

“Well, yeah, but pretending to be pissed off about something inconsequential is fun,” Lance said. “I don’t even dislike Tommy, but like… it’s fun to talk trash about one of the most popular characters. I shit talk with love, I promise.”

“Also, if we were going by personality as well…” Shiro trailed off. “Actually, assuming that a decent pattern of communication was in place and Noh-Varr wasn’t self-sabotaging with his own PTSD, he probably wouldn’t be that bad of a romantic partner. At least you’d always have music.”

“And a meat shield, apparently,” Pidge piped up. A glance told Lance that she was partway through the Marvel Boy miniseries, which meant she’d probably run into something about his indestructability by this point.

“Wouldn’t have to worry about being widowed, since he’s nearly impossible to kill,” Hunk added.

“And he can eat all the leftovers, including the parts that aren’t actually food,” Keith said.

“Life wouldn’t be boring either, given the extensive number of people that would gladly try to kill him for the Phoenix debacle or what he did to Manhattan,” Shiro added.

“He served his time for both of those incidents, did his reparation work, and got tortured a lot as punishment! I really don’t think you can hold all of that against him, given his circumstances!” Lance protested.

“I mean… the Phoenix was a result of misinformation, true, but Manhattan?” Shiro wiggled a hand in the air. “I’m only giving it a pass because I’d say all the torture, mind control, and so on, both before and after, is punishment enough for just about anything.”

“I’m not,” Hunk said. “But he actually tried to do charity work in his own weird superhero way afterwards, so… that’s not bad?”

“This isn’t a real person, correct?” Allura asked. “Just a fictional character?”

“Yes,” the paladins answered in unison.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t be trying to explain away the Fuck You Fires if he were a real person,” Lance said. “However, he is in fact fictional, and his circumstances were weird as shit—”

“Being part of a hive mind and feeling your entire family die and then watching them get dissected while you’re tortured by your captors will do some interesting things to a fifteen-year-old’s mind,” Shiro acknowledged.

“And then the Cube,” Lance added. “We do not forget the fuckery that happened at the Cube.”

“Comics are convoluted,” Keith said, staring down at the tablet in his own lap. “Very convoluted. Why are they so convoluted?”

“Because you have about twenty different writers at any given time writing the same characters in new situations, frequently causing crossovers between individual groups of characters, switching out at least three or four writers per year for someone new, passing on the characters to new writers who must then find something original to do with them, resulting in increasingly ridiculous plots as the writers struggle to find something new and interesting to do so that the audience doesn’t lose interest,” Lance rattled off.

“Often commenting on contemporary events,” Shiro added, “and matters of social justice.”

“Never forget that Captain America was the creation of two Jewish men in response to widespread support of Hitler in the early days of World War II,” Lance added.

The Alteans stared at him and Shiro in blank confusion.

“Hey, Allura, want to see something funny?” Hunk asked.

“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Keith said. “But also I kind of want to see what you’re planning.”

“Same,” Pidge said.

Allura looked at Hunk for a long moment. “I have no idea what’s going on, but alright.”

Hunk grinned and turned to Lance. “Hey Lance, is Magneto the Maximoff twins’ dad or not?”

(It took fifteen minutes for the team to get Lance to stop ranting.)

o.o.o.o.o

“Okay, Shiro was right. David’s my favorite now. Programming a miniature Cerebro in five minutes?” Pidge pretended to fan herself. “If I wasn’t ace… I mean, I still want to marry his brain anyway. Platonically. Just… damn. I have a favorite Marvel character now. I’m supposed to be a DC girl, but this has me hooked. Damn you, Lance. Damn you.”

“…just read the comic, short shit.”

o.o.o.o.o

A/N:There were a couple of characters I couldn't find decent V2 reference pics for; Tommy in particular doesn't show up in McKelvie's style much, since his two biggest appearances in V2 are both in issues that have guest artists.

I feel like Lance would have really strong opinions about bigoted retcons and the importance of remembering the minority influence on comics as a medium.