#one of my favorite artists has been drawing that nonstop for like two months

[dogboyboyshorts]

butch and femme swatch

[solarwonux]

Beautiful Stranger || Minghao

artist!minghao x f!reader

w.c: 4.5k

warnings: angst, fluff, its a little suggestive, self doubts

notes: In celebration of my baby’s birthday I did a thing and I’m not sorry. Happy Birthday Hao!!!

Enjoy and let me know your thoughts.xx

masterlist

Xu Minghao is a beautiful mystery that was often left unsolved.

He prefers it this way.

Minghao realizes this after his first heartbreak. Then again after his second heartbreak. After his third, he decides to give up. If love wasn’t in the cards for him then why should he bend over backwards to reach it?

When he reached his twenties and everything spiraled out of control way too fast for his liking. He painted like his life depended on it because realistically in his universe it did. He got around using people for his pleasure and then left them out in the cold just like it had been done to him. Minghao didn’t have time for love, nor did he want it. He reserved his love for his canvases, paintbrushes, and different colors of monochromatic paints.

Then he met you.

His monochromatic colors were replaced by the sweet strawberry pink of your lipstick. His paint brushes swirled around his canvases to the melody of your laughter. Before he knew it a piece of you had infiltrated all of his paintings. Whether it was the exact shade of blue from the shirt you wore that day or the sparkling gaze behind your eyes that resembled his night sky.

He had fallen for you, for the girl that visited the university gallery every Wednesday morning to sit in front of his atrocious paintings that were unfortunately displayed as part of his final project before graduation.

At first, he never said anything, just watched you from afar wondering what thoughts were running through your head as you admired. Did you think his paint stroke pattern was lacking? Did you think he should’ve chosen other colors? Did you think his choice in reds was too dramatic?

Whatever you were thinking, it drove him insane not knowing.

He would pace for minutes before entering the gallery every Wednesday morning. Sometimes he hoped you wouldn’t be there so he could judge his own paintings in silence. His wishes never came true, as none of them ever did but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Are you stalking me?” You asked one Monday morning. After your fourth visit, you had noticed him silently walking around the gallery, sneaking glances at you from the peripherals of your eyes. At first you had assumed he was an art enthusiast like you, and admired the artwork that was displayed. Then you caught him waiting for you outside of the gallery one morning, only entering a few minutes after you had. It could’ve been just a coincidence that morning, but when it started happening more often it scared you.

So you changed your visiting dates. Opting for every Monday instead of Wednesday an hour later than your usual time. It had gone smoothly for a week until he caught on and that’s where you were now.

“Hello,” You waved your hand in front of his face, his features paralyzed in shock only until he caught sight of your hand. “Are you stalking me?

Minghao shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “N-No, I-I um...these are my paintings.” He shrugs and signals with his head around the four paintings that haunted him day and night.

“So, you’re telling me you’re the The8?” You ask in disbelief as Minghao cringes. There were days when he regrets choosing that as his pseudonym. After all, he was eight when he created it after coming home from his first art lesson. But letting go of it  would be letting go of that little boy whose dreams were bigger than his body and he couldn’t disappoint him especially not now.

“Just Minghao is fine.” He nods and takes his hands out of his pockets before drying them against his jeans. “Do you actually like my paintings?”

You scoff before rolling your eyes, “No I just like sitting here.” Minghao’s face falls causing you to let out a shy laugh before shoving his shoulder away playfully, “I’m playing with you I love them actually.”

“Why?”

“That’s a stupid question the The8.” Minghao rolls his eyes before breaking out into a smile as he waits for you to continue. “They’re not peaceful, in fact, I sometimes find them overwhelming to look at but they bring me peace.” Minghao’s cheeks have never felt hotter than before, his heart is palpitating at an uneven time. No one has ever described his painting the way you have and he feels like he’s going to throw up.

“That’s a stupid reason.”

Minghao is now painting nonstop

“When are you going to paint me like one of your French girls?” You ask, chin on his naked chest as you draw patterns against the ridges of his stomach. You have no artistic talent but you love creating invisible masterpieces against his skin. He’s the only one that can see them and he loves it.

“I don’t have any French girls.” He rolls his eyes before sitting up against your headboard and grabbing his discarded boxers and putting them on. “And that’s not the quote.”

“Alright Titanic enthusiast, let me live out my fantasy.” You joke and Minghao laughs as he lays back down bringing you along with him. You pout, “When are you going to paint me?”

“Who says I haven’t already?” He smirks down at you and captures your lips with his in a slow sensual kiss. You sigh against his lips and pull him close, “I think you’re lying.”

“Impossible lying is a sin and I am a child of God.”

“And here you are consummating outside of marriage, God is disappointed in you Hao.” You peck his lips one last time before sitting up. You stand up taking your sheets along with you. Minghao stays laying down on your bed like it was his very own. He watches you closely, taking in the way your skin glows against the light of the rising sun. The way your hips dip when they meet your thighs and he can’t wait to go home again to his canvas, monochromatic paints, and paintbrushes.

If he knew that meeting you would cure his unfortunate art disease he would’ve tried a little harder to find you.

Six months ago his mornings consisted of him rushing out of bed, getting dressed as fast as possible so he makes it to the university art gallery before you. Now his mornings consist of him rushing out of bed, getting dressed as fast as possible to bring you breakfast before you leave for your morning class.

Most days though, you end up pinning him against your front door before he could mutter a ‘good morning’ to you. He doesn’t complain though, he loves the way your body melts against his. Like you were made for him, and fuck he loves it so much he wants to die.

If he were to believe in soulmates he would think you were his.

Minghao’s parents find out.

When he went away for university Minghao lied and told his parents he was studying business communications. He wasn’t sure if they had believed him or if he didn’t care but he had spent four years studying art without their knowledge. He was living in a peaceful fantasy not sure when he’d have to wake up and tell his parents the truth. That their trust fund had gone to a degree where nothing was guaranteed.

He guesses that time is now.

Minghao and you have officially been dating for two months. And he decides to take you home for Christmas.

At first you had declined, told him that he should spend Christmas with his parents and that you were fine staying on campus alone until New Years. Your parents had gone on a couples retreat. It was needed they weren’t doing so hot for years now so you didn’t mind. Minghao on the other hand wouldn’t take no for an answer and that’s how you ended up with him hand in hand on the front door step of his childhood home.

“I should’ve stayed Hao, what if they don’t like me?” You practically yell at a low volume. Minghao rolls his eyes and brings your palm up to his lips. He leaves behind a reassuring kiss before ringing the doorbell again.

“It’s impossible to dislike you. By the end of the night they’ll probably like you a lot more than me.” He reassures bumping his shoulder against yours lightly. You stumble a little and Minghao pulls your hand to keep you from falling. His arm comes to your waist and he’s about to kiss you when the front door falls open. The two of you caught, the guilt rushing towards your faces as his parents stare back at the two of you with wide smiles.

“Don’t stand out there for too long, you'll catch a cold.” His mother's soft voice sounds and wraps around the warm porch light. They open the door further, Minghao’s grip on your hand gets tighter as he pulls you into his home. The warmth wraps around you like a protective blanket and you find yourself never wanting to leave.

For the remainder of the night until dinner Minghao doesn’t leave your side. His hand is on you at all times whether it’s on your arm, or appropriately placed against your back. His mother shows you around the small but big enough for their tiny family house, while his father finishes dinner in the kitchen. When the three of you reach Minghao’s childhood room you feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

His walls were covered with paintings he had made while growing up and seeing them displayed makes you feel proud. You see the improvement and growth in every single one as they’re sequenced by years. Your favorite one is the one he painted when he was thirteen. He notices you lingering on that one for longer than usual as his mother’s voice echoes off his navy blue walls. He never understood what it was about his art that made you forget the world around you, and you never once could explain why to him without changing the subject right away. He just hopes that one day he can get it out of you to understand your admiration.

“You like it?” Minghao whispers in your ear and it makes you jump. He chuckles as his arms find their way around your waist, the panic rushes through you at the speed of light.

“Minghao your mo-“

“Dad called her down to help, it’s just us right now.” He kisses your cheek and stays there before  trailing soft kisses down your neck. He kisses it lightly, the goosebumps appearing against your arms. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

You go frigid against his chest, as he continues to kiss down your neck until it reaches your sweet spot. “W-Why?” You move your head to the side, giving him more room. He smirks, sucking the spot he’s memorized like it were his color theory notes.

“I’m immorally thinking of every single way I can have you falling apart while my parents are downstairs.”

“Dinner is ready!”

You should’ve kept your mouth shut, that was a problem you always had and it never resulted in anything good.

Somewhere in the midst of dinner you had briefly mentioned your love for Minghao’s artwork and how proud you were that his paintings were being displayed at the University gallery. But you hadn’t known that Minghao had lied and never told his parents what exactly he was studying.

“We’ve been paying for a useless degree?” His father forcefully drops the fork against his plate, a loud clang sounds through the small dining room.

“It’s not useless, it's what I love.” Minghao fights back and stands up, “This is why I didn’t tell you, I knew you wouldn’t approve.” He pushes in his chair, hitting the table making you and his mother jump.

“Of course we wouldn’t, you’re never going to get anywhere in life with an art degree. I didn’t raise you to be a lowlife artist.”

“You barely raised me at all.” Minghao tugs at his roots, he sends you a glare and leaves the room. The tension evident in the room and you don’t know if you should stay seated or follow him. When you hear the front door shut and you go with the latter.

“I-I’m sorry, dinner was amazing.” You stood up and pushed your chair in carefully. You knew you should’ve stayed home, but that was before when you feared his parents weren’t going to like you. Now you should’ve stayed home because your big mouth was always causing trouble.

You made your way around Minghao’s house as fast as you could and walked out forgetting about your coat and purse.

The bone chilling cold gives you whiplash as soon as you walk out. Your eyes land on Minghao, his foot tapping impatiently against the snow covered ground. He’s looking at head into the dead of the night while a cigarette burns in between his fingers. You knew he smoked but he had reassured you it wasn’t a problem and he only did it to relieve himself of all the unnecessary stress. He had stopped though, when you had become his stress reliever instead, but now you were the cause of his stress.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know.” You hugged yourself in a poor attempt to keep yourself warm. Minghao scoffed and brought the white stick up to his lips. His eyes closing in pleasure as he takes a long drag. “If I had known I wouldn’t have sai-“

“Sometimes I wish you would just stay out of my business.” He huffed. He flicks his finished cigratte onto the ground and crushes it beneath his boot. “You had no business in telling them.” He sends you a glare and shakes his head in disappointment. You feel the tears start to well in the corner of your eyes and you dig your nails into your arms to keep yourself from letting them go.

“I didn’t know. What was I supposed to do?” You throw your hands up in the air. You were frustrated with the situation and upset with yourself. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go, but you always managed to ruin every good thing that came into your life. And this was no different.

“I don’t know, not say anything.”

“I just wanted to show them that I don’t care what you do because I’ll support you no matter what.” You sigh, a shiver goes through your spine as he stands up. You take a step back, the look in his eyes giving the bitter winter cold a run for its money.

“I don’t want it.”

Minghao misses you.

Since Christmas he hasn’t been able to paint anything. His mind keeps going back to the look of hurt on your face as soon as the words left his mouth. The tears that fell when you walked down the steps of his porch, shivering, out into the freezing cold. He didn’t run after you because he was afraid you finally saw him for who he was. Someone that was undeserving of your heart of gold. But he stayed and smoked two more cigarettes before walking into his childhood home.

Minghao hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks and tries to fill the void with his cigarettes, to let the poison smoke consume his entire body. Every time he finishes a pack in one sitting he feels even more disgust towards himself.

He wonders if he should call you and apologize for that night. His mind constantly tells him no while his heart continues to yearn for you. He misses your delicate touch burning his skin, he misses getting lost in your soft eyes. He misses your voice and how it sounds like a warm melody even when you’re upset. He misses you like crazy that he feels like he’s losing his life.

The blank canvas before him laughs at him, his constant frustration with himself grows as the night envelops his makeshift studio in his tiny apartment. He needs to paint. He needs one more painting before graduation, one more and he'll be out of the educational art cuffs. One more and he’ll be free to do whatever he wants. But  he just can’t because all he sees is you, your hurt, the greyscale of his cigarette smoke and the bright light of his phone as his thumb hoovers over your contact name.

He almost lets himself cave in too. If it wasn’t for the soft knocks on his front door he would’ve finally called. He feels the blood go up to his ears as he realizes the time. No one in their right mind would show up at his front door at two in the morning. Unless it was you.

He lets his feet carry him towards his door. Minghao knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up but had always been a hopeful kid no matter how many times his hope had been knocked down. He takes a deep breath, his long fingers wrapping around the door handle and he rips it open like a two day old band aid. Your tired eyes meet his miserable ones for the first time in three weeks and he feels like he can breathe again.

“I-I...um...come in.” He steps aside scratching the back of his neck. His hair was getting long again. He usually would’ve cut it by now, but you had once told him you loved how boyish it made him look. So he keeps it.

“I’m here to pick up my stuff.” You walk past him. Your oversized hoodie swallows you whole and he can’t help but want to feel your warmth against him. He stays put in his side of the room taking in your appearance, your hair was a different color, a lighter shade than the one he had last seen you in. He loves it. “Minghao my stuff please, I’m tired and want to go home.”

Minghao panics and he closes the space between the two of you, his arms find their way around you and pulls you close. “Don’t leave please, I’m a coward who’s scared and I lo-I-I’m just sorry for everything I know you deserve better than someone who’s never going to amount to anything but please for tonight don’t leave me alone. You can forget about me in the morning if you want, just not tonight please.” He begs into your neck.

Minghao has never once cried for another person,  not during his first three heartbreaks, not when his dog died. But the thought of losing you forever shatters him and he finally allows himself to weep.

After the initial shock of having him close to you again after missing him for what seemed like years. You hug him back. His sobs take over the dead silence of the night as you hold him, smoothing out the wrinkles of his paint stained t-shirt. You missed him more than air and although you were still upset with him. The two of you still had many things to talk about, all you wanted to do was hold him the same way he’s held you during moments of pure vulnerability.

“I’ll stay.”

Minghao is in love and he doesn’t know how to tell you.

His paintings don’t hang in the university art gallery anymore. They’re locked away in the storage closet in his apartment. All of them collecting dust, except for two.

When the two of you graduated. The art gallery took down his paintings to display the incoming freshman’s artwork. You had gone with him for  moral support as the two of you watched his most hated--your favorite paintings come down. It was a bittersweet moment for the two of you but you could tell it had affected him more than he led on.

“When I get my first paycheck I’ll buy one off you.” You whispered to him as he walked you back to your dorm room. Minghao stops dead in his tracks, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he grips his two largest canvases in his hands.

“Why would you do that?” He shakes his head before closing the distance between the two of you.

“Because I love your paintings idiot.” You roll your eyes and hold the small canvases you were holding against your chest. “And I love you.”

Minghao’s world stops. It freezes and goes blank. He swallows slowly to make sure he’s heard you right, and when he notices your shaking hands gripping his precious canvases he’s positive he has.

“No you don’t.” He blurts out before he can think and he sees the hurt flash across your perfect features signaling that he has fucked up. He doesn’t know how to handle your confession. Everyone he has ever loved laughs in his face and tells him he was an idiot for thinking they would ever feel anything for him. He almost waits for you to retreat your statement but when you don’t he feels his heart against his throat.

“Fuck, fine sorry I said anything.” You scoff and turn around, walking as fast as you could to create all the distance between the two of you. You knew you should’ve never confessed, you knew he would never feel the same way as you did. You were chaos, too much to handle, at times to clingy and not even that good of a fuck to keep a man. But there had been a little pocket of hope in you reserved for Minghao and sometimes he stared at you for longer than a person should stare at another. So you took your shot. Knowing you could have possibly read all the lingering touches and stares and blatantly obvious signs wrong. That you would end up in another heartbreak but you had really thought your subconscious had been wrong.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, girl.

Wait, wait, stop walking.” Minghao yells looking around frantically and setting his paintings against an isolated light post. He uses all the energy he has left in him and runs after you. His shoes forcefully stomping against the cracked pavement. Minghao’s mind is running at miles an hour and the only thing he can do is laugh because of how badly he wants to kiss you. Tell you you’ve been the sole owner of his heart ever since the first time he spotted you silently admiring his terrible paintings all those months ago and paint.  

Is this really the life of an artist?

He’s an idiot, the biggest one on this planet but for the first time in his life, he’s determined to not let the best thing that has ever happened to him slip away.

You have no choice but to stop at the streetlight and Minghao catches up. His breathing is ragged, his fake glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose, and his hands are shaking from the adrenaline surging through his veins.

He places his hands against your shoulders making you jump, “Minghao forget I said anything it was a mis--.” His mouth is on yours before you could finish your sentence. His hands travel down your back and he pulls you closer, crushing his paintings in between your bodies.

“I love you too,”

Minghao is nervous.

The day he’s been looking forward to and dreading for the past three years has finally arrived. His nerves course through his body like shocks of electricity and he feels like throwing up. When he met you all those years ago, the only person who encouraged his unachieveable dream, in the stupid university gallery, he never once thought he would end up here.

“Baby, are you ready?” You peak your head into the green room, the dark shade of red adjourning your lips catches him off guard. His hands itching to grab the sketchbook and pack of pastels he kept in his bag for moments of random inspiration. He refrains when he remembers he has people waiting for him. People who have gone out of their way to come to see him, his paintings and the opening of his highly anticipated art gallery.

You walk in and close the door behind you. You stand in Minghao’s path and he stops pacing.“I can tell Jun to stall for a few more minutes. He has the crowd wrapped around his finger with his terrible jokes, I mean some of them aren’t that bad but still they aren’t good.”  You put your hand against his cheek, your thumb soothing away the worry lines around his perfect mouth.

“How many people are out there?” He whispers and puts his forehead against yours. He thought his nerves were bad on his wedding day, but he’s sure this takes the cherry. He won’t tell you, even though he has a hunch that you already know.

“Last time Mingyu and your father updated me we had reached a few hundred.”

“A few hundred.” Minghao’s eyes grow wider than the moon, his nerves get worse. “I can’t go out there. What if they don’t like me?”

“Look at me Hao.” You place two fingers underneath his chin and raise it. His pupils are wide with uncertainty and you do everything in your power to keep yourself from laughing. Nothing was cuter than Minghao when he was nervous. “You always sell yourself short, these people fell in love with your paintings and I have no doubt in my mind that they’ll love you. I mean honey look at where we ended up.” You offer him a smile before leaning in to place a soft kiss against his plump lips.

“Yeah but that’s different. I was a nobody back then, no one had a preconceived notion of me then. I’m afraid these people might expect a broken artist with a smoking habit and that’s not me. At least not anymore.”

“Who cares what they might think of you, this isn’t about them. This is about you and your dream, don’t let the opinions of strangers ruin this for you.” You nod your head rubbing your thumb over his lips to get rid of the residue left behind by your liptstick. “If it makes you feel better I’m here and so are your parents and your friends. We’ll always support you baby.”

Minghao takes a deep breath and nods shyly. “Can you just hold me for a while. I want to be yours only for these last few minutes of freedom.”

“Minghao you’re making it sound like you’re selling your soul.” You giggle and fix the loose strands of hair that had fallen against his forehead.

“I’ll stay.”

Xu Minghao is a beautiful mystery that was often left unsolved.

Until you walked into his life and took your time to solve it.

[c-optimistic]

fall

Supergirl dies on a Wednesday.

Sometimes, when she’s alone in her office in the wee hours of the morning, still in yesterday’s clothing and unsure when she’d last eaten, she thinks about that, the utter normalcyof losing National City’s hero on a Wednesday. Somehow, the death on such a boring day of the week provides a sort of stark contrast that Lena has trouble wrapping her head around. After all, surely the hero and pride of National City would fall in a blaze of glory on a Friday night, a Sunday afternoon, even a Monday morning during rush hour.

But a Wednesday? Some time between mid-morning and noon? When nothing was happening except for the drudge of the week, the tireless churning of society?

She doesn’t understand it—has tried to come to terms with it with very little success. In her weakest moments, when she’s staring down the end of a bottle of whiskey or wine (before Jess or Maggie or even James Olsen pry the bottle from her fingertips and help her get home), she thinks the very banality of Supergirl’s death is evidence of its unnecessary nature, its needless, pointless, meaningless, asinine—

Supergirl dies on a Wednesday.

By Friday, the President herself comes to National City to mourn the fallen hero. She talks about the few short conversations she’s had with Supergirl, how everyone should be inspired and follow Supergirl’s wonderful example. A true hero, an exemplary citizen.

(Lena doesn’t go to the ceremony. She and Alex spend that afternoon in Kara’s apartment, sitting on Kara’s couch, Alex stoically staring at the television screen with silent tears running down her cheeks and Lena gripping her hand so tightly she thinks she’ll break fingers.  

After that, Lena doesn’t see much of Alex at all.)

The President dedicates a memorial to Supergirl, and donations come pouring in—people wanting to make it larger than life, much like the hero it’s meant to honor. People from across the country pour into National City in order to discuss how to best go about building the memorial, debating what Supergirl would’ve liked or wanted.

(Lena sits it all out though L-Corp is asked for the perspective, for their idea of what should be built—especially seeing as though the memorial would be so close to their building.

Lena has Jess allocate a sizable donation to the effort to build the memorial, claiming she only does it to get the pestering swarms off her back. She pretends not to hear Jess’s soft sigh, not to see the pitying expression.)

Supergirl dies on a Wednesday.

Not many know how. The secret is limited to a select few: Alex, who was her everything; J’onn, who was like a father; Winn, who was her best friend; James, who was her first love; and Lena—Lena who somehow stumbled into her life and never stumbled back out, now left alone and bearing more scars on her heart than she had any right to.

(Superman is there the day it happens, he is there on that dismal, ordinary, normal, Wednesday. He’s there when Supergirl gets hit, he’s there when she falls, he’s there when she doesn’t get back up. And in the cellphone footage that plays nonstop on every news outlet, Superman lifts her, tears in his eyes, and with a great heave, he shoots off into the air with Supergirl still in his arms.

What no one sees is Superman returning to the DEO. What no one hears is Superman’s toneless voice as he informs the five of them of his cousin’s death, catching Alex before she falls to her knees. What no one knows is that Lena thinks she dies that day too—that Superman meets her eyes as if he hearsthe sound of her breaking heart as it happens, that he watches her become a shell after losing yet another person she loves.)

Supergirl dies on a Wednesday, and it’s on a Wednesday two weeks later that the plans for the memorial is finally revealed. It’s to be a life-sized statue of Supergirl, the artist sketching Supergirl with her hands on her hips, smile on her lips, and it’s on a Wednesday that Lena stares at the drawing and wonders just how many people would recognize that if they placed a pair of glasses on the statue and hid the emblem on her chest with a pastel sweater that Supergirl would strongly resemble someone else.

Supergirl dies on a Wednesday, and in the days that follow the world mourns: the House of El coat of arms is everywhere, people begin quoting Supergirl left and right, and when they see Superman they avert their eyes so as to avoid the sorrow swimming in the depths of his gaze.

It makes Lena so angry.

Because Supergirl dies on a Wednesday, but more importantly, so does Kara.

x

“I hear you don’t leave the office,” Alex says without prompting as she walks into Lena’s office without any warning. Lena smiles weakly, motioning to Jess that the interruption is fine, and offers Alex a drink. (Water only. After an incident several weeks earlier, the two of them have sworn off alcohol, have been attempting to get their lives back in order—as impossible as that seems.)

“I hear you’ve been reckless.”

“Who snitched?” Alex asks, waving off the water and sitting down across from Lena, slouched heavily in the chair that Kara—

No. No. Lena isn’t about to go there.

“You tell me first,” she replies easily, shutting her laptop and giving Alex her full attention. “It was either Maggie or James. No one else comes to L-Corp late at night.”

“Winn’s been hacking into your security system,” Alex admits, shrugging when Lena’s mouth falls open in offense. “What? He’s used to keeping tabs on you. Has been since Kara—” Her mouth snaps shut, something steely appears in her gaze, and she becomes hard, her jaw clenched tight.

“Maggie told me about the alien you apprehended without backup,” Lena says, pretending as if she didn’t hear Alex’s slip, as if she didn’t witness the way Alex clammed up.

“I had it under control.”

“He was apparently three times bigger than you.” Lena eyes Alex’s leg pointedly, the ginger way Alex stretches it. “And how is nearly getting your leg torn off having anything ‘under control?’”

“He got a lucky shot in, that’s all. Also, I don’t know how I feel about my girlfriend telling you all this stuff.”

“Well I don’t know how I feel about Winn hackinginto my security system.”

“Fair enough, I’ll get him to back off if youpromise to go home and get a good’s night sleep as least twice a week.”

“I like that you know better than to ask for more than two nights a week,” Lena chuckles. When Alex merely raises an eyebrow, clearly in no mood for jokes (though none of them ever really are anymore), Lena deflates. “It still smells like her, the couch, my favorite throw. I just can’t, Alex. I can’t.”

(She doesn’t say that when she goes too long without sleep or if she forgets to eat once too often she sees Kara’s phantom presence—can see her curled up on the couch with a book, can hear her giggling over something she reads on her phone, can feel her warmth while mindlessly watching the news, can smell her perfume lingering in the air and her shampoo and something vaguely sunnyon the clothes she once borrowed when she claimed she was too tired to fly home.

Lena doesn’t say that in her darkest moments, when she’s alone and weak and feeling oh so vulnerable, she thinks that she’ll see Kara emerging from the guest bedroom, yawning even as she worriedly asks why Lena is sobbing. She doesn’t say that watching that door never open is tearing her apart.)

“It’s been a month, there’s no way—”

“So you don’t wear her favorite sweater anymore?”

Alex looks stricken at the accusation, clearly upset that Maggie would confide even this to Lena. The truth, however, is that as worried as everyone has been about Lena, they are all well aware that it’s Alex who’s lost the most—Alex who’s bearing the most pain, Alex who lost her entire world. Lena isn’t stupid; she knows Maggie and James don’t only check up on her out of some vague sense of lingering loyalty to Kara (the one person who had faith in Lena, who believed inLena, who once swore she’d always stand up for Lena).  

After all, who better to understand losing a sibling than Lena Luthor?

“That’s different,” Alex says fiercely after she manages to get her shock under control.

“Alex—”

“She’s not gone. I know it, I can feel it. My sister is still out there and she’s coming back.”

Lena sighs and Alex’s shoulders stiffen.

(It’s practically a play they enact by memory at this point. It’d started a week after Clark left. Alex had stated it as a fact, had talked about how Clark hadn’t let anyone see Kara’s body, how he was keeping his distance, how there were unexplainable reports from the south about random surges and strange miracles, how she sworeshe heard Kara’s voice one night, just outside her window.

And Lena—heartbroken, terrified, emptyLena—refutes each of Alex’s claims one by one, keeping her voice steady and calm, trying to prevent the swell of hope in her own chest. Because she wantsit to be true, she so wants it to be true, but that damn door never opens and experience is a hard teacher and Lena’s had plenty of lessons—enough that while she’s brave enough to admit what she wants she doesn’t dare give in to hope.

Lena isn’t strong enough to hope only for it all to be proved false, so she prays that Alex is strong enough for the both of them.

She wonders how long she can continue to be so unfair.)

“So it can’t be true that I still smell Kara on my things, but she’s definitely alive just because you feel it?”

“You don’t understand, I know my sister. I’ve always had a sixth sense when it came to her, when she was in trouble and needed me. And she needsme now. Lena, you have to believe me.”

(I want to, Lena doesn’t say. Show me how to hope, she doesn’t say.)

“Just like you knew Mon-El was trouble and told her to stay away from him?” Lena says instead, her voice becoming cold. (This too is a conversation she’s had many times with Alex, and every time, it’s ended the same way.)

“Fuck you, Luthor,” Alex hisses. She gets to her feet, only favoring her left leg slightly, all her pain forgotten in her anger, and she stalks out of Lena’s office without another word or a look back.

And Lena wearily reaches for her phone, dialing Maggie’s number.

“She’ll be coming to you now,” she says in lieu of a hello. “Let her know somehow that I’m sorry, okay? And thank her for looking out for me.”

“You could tell her yourself. You could tell her you don’t actually think she’s crazy,” Maggie says, her voice almost completely drowned out by some sort of commotion in the background. Lena idly wonders how the NCPD is faring without one of their greatest assets.  

“I actually don’t think she wants to hear anything from me right now,” Lena says, swallowing hard. “And I never called her crazy.”

“Look, Lena. I get it, okay? People process grief differently.” She lets out a sigh when Lena doesn’t respond. “I don’t know how little Danvers got stuck with two of the most stubborn women in the world.”

“The issue is she’s not processing her grief at all, Maggie,” Lena says, closing her eyes and ignoring the latter part of Maggie’s comment. She doesn’t wait for Maggie to convince her otherwise—she hangs up and tosses her phone aside.

After a long pause, she opens her eyes and swivels her chair around, staring out her window, somehow momentarily sure that she’ll see a flash of red and hear the light thud of boots against the balcony. But the moment is gone in a heartbeat, and Lena hurriedly wipes away the single tear that’s rolled down her cheek and returns to her work as if there’d never been an interruption in the first place.

(She doesn’t go home that night either.)

x

On the second month anniversary of Supergirl’s (and Kara’s) death, Lena decides she’ll take a lunch break and go for a walk. She tells Jess to take care of all her calls, to email her anything that’s urgent, then walks to the nearest café—barely a block away—buys Kara’s favorite sandwich and heads to memorial that’s still under construction, tentatively named Hero’s Park.

She sits on one of the wooden benches away from the bustling and the work, the sandwich going untouched as she stares at the one thing that’s already been completed: a life-size statue of Supergirl. The artist is talented, she thinks for the umpteenth time. They’d somehow captured Kara’s strength in the curve of her spine, her optimism in the uptick of her lips, her courage in the clench of her hands. Supergirl’s very essence had been distilled into stone, each inch exemplifying everything that made Kara great.

(Or perhaps that’s just what Lena sees when she looks at the statue because that was what she saw when she looked at Kara.)

“You didn’t come to game night,” she hears a deep voice rumble, and though she smiles she doesn’t turn to look at the man who’s joined her at her bench. “We all missed you.”

“Alex is upset with me, I didn’t think she’d want me there.”

“She’s sad, Lena. But she always wants you around.”

Lena sighs, turning to face James, studying his expression and his loose-fitting clothing before offering him another smile, this one self-deprecating, mirthless…broken.

“Why?”

“Because you’re something she has left of Kara. You and Winn.”

“Not you?”

“I came into Kara’s life thanks to Clark. You came into her life because she brought you into it.” He doesn’t seem sad or resentful and Lena knows why: it doesn’t matter how they came into Kara’s life, they were both just grateful that they’d ever been in her orbit at all. She stares at him a little longer then hands over the sandwich, actually letting out a laugh when he halves it and raises an eyebrow, waiting till she accepts her half and takes a bite before he begins to eat as well.

“So you tracked me down to tell me to come to the next game night?”

“Track down?” James huffs, shaking his head. “Lena, there’s no tracking with you. You’re either here or at the office.”

“But you were looking for me.”

“Yeah, but not about game night. Fair warning, though, Alex will probably call you sometime today about that.” He polishes off the last of his sandwich and leans back, his eyes on the memorial, something sad passing over his face. “Cat Grant is back,” he explains without preamble. “She feels…well, I think she’s guilty. She seems to think Kara’s—” He stops, clears his throat, and shakes his head. “She thinks it’s her fault somehow. So she wants to honor Supergirl her own way. She wants to coincide the opening of the memorial with a special issue of CatCo magazine.”

“And how does that involve me?”

“Apparently it’s ‘common knowledge’ that you and Supergirl were close. I don’t think Cat knows just how close you were, but she suspects enough. She wants to interview you, add the viewpoint of someone who knew Supergirl well.”

“And she didn’t ask you?”

“She did. But the truth is I don’t think I knew Kara in the end. We’d become so distant and I…” He stops and hangs his head, hurriedly wiping at his eyes. Lena tactfully looks away, remembering all the nights he helped her off the floor of her office and took her home, never once mentioning her weakness, never once taking advantage of the information he held over her. To see someone at their very worst and still think them strong…that was something Lena hadn’t had with anyone before James. And she likes it. She likes it enough that she surprises herself by reaching out and taking James’s hand, not looking over at him even when he squeezes back gratefully.

“I don’t know if I can survive an interview with Cat Grant,” Lena tells James softly, pulling her hand away and turning to him. To her shock, he’s grinning.

“I thought you’d say that,” he says, knocking shoulders with her. “That’s why I told Cat I’d interview you. As my last hurrah I guess before I move back to Metropolis.”

Lena frowns, filled with confusion and a terrible sense of sorrow that she’s losing someone she just found.

“You’re moving away? But—”

“I don’t belong here anymore, Lena,” he interrupts, and Lena doesn’t understand why he looks so carefree, why he’s so cheerful about that fact. “I came here to get out from under Clark’s shadow and I think somewhere along the way I lost myself. I wanted to be a hero like Kara, a hero like Clark, and I forgot that there’s more to being a hero than punching a few bad guys.” He tilts his head towards her, actually winking. “You showed me that, you know. You’re more of a hero than you know, and it’s just because you choose to do the right thing over what might be easy.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit, James.”

“I think you give yourself too little credit,” he shoots back with good humor. “National City has been good for you. For me…well, for me I don’t think it was.”

“You met Kara here,” Lena reminds him softly, but rather than recant, James tilts his head back, staring up at the sky with a wide smile on his face, his eyes closing. She can almost see what Kara saw in him—he’s obviously conventionally attractive, but he’s also soft and gentle, kind, and patient. There’s a warmth to him that Lena appreciates, something she finds herself basking in because at times—when he’s chuckling or when he’s passionate about something—it reminds Lena so much of Kara. The very thought of losing him hurts more than she thought it would, especially now that they’ve become tentative friends, one of the many things Lena has because of Kara. “National City gave you that.”

“National City also took her away,” he says, his smile not fading and his eyes still closed. “I like to think that there’s an alternate world, another timeline that Kara is alive and happy. And maybe I met her and maybe I didn’t, but I think just knowing she’s somewhere in the world would be enough for me.”

“Yes,” Lena says without thinking, “I agree.”

“So.” James claps his hands together and sits up, finally opening his eyes and facing her. “Will you do the interview? Send me off in style?”

Lena looks over at the statue, eyes roving the intricate lines of Kara’s face. She stares into the lifeless eyes of the statue and for a moment they flash, looking blue and bright and vibrant.

Kara gave her friends, gave her a sense that she mattered, but most of all, Kara reminded her what it meant to be a hero: to do the best you could, with whatever you had. So Lena’s answer is a no-brainer.

“Of course, James. Whatever you need.”

And James’s answering grin reminds her so much of Kara that the ache in her chest—the one she hasn’t been able to escape since that Wednesday two months ago—twinges painfully, and Lena realizes that, with or without James, losing Kara is something she’ll never be able to get over.

x

Cat Grant actually cries (it’s caught on camera, a single tear rolling down her cheeks, and the photograph is tucked into the corner of the article about Supergirl and her wider influence—forever immortalizing herself as not only the person who named Supergirl, but also the person who said goodbye.)

Lena’s interview with James is everywhere the day the memorial opens. Quotes are read on news programs, social media blows up with it, shared again and again with varying opinions.

(“She’s a fake,” some say.

“She’s not like her family,” others write.

“Can you imagine, a Super and a Luthor?” some question.

“No, no, no,” many claim, “she’s in love.”)

Lena doesn’t pay attention to any of it. She goes to work, meets with her board members and investors, speaks to R&D, takes conference calls from foreign businesses, forgets to eat until Jess strongholds her into it, only going home when Winn or Maggie (or sometimes Alex, when she’s not surly, when she’s not still spouting her mad claims about Kara) drag her away from the office.

And time drags on.

They have a going away celebration for James, playing board games in Kara’s honor and eating so many potstickers that Alex feels sick. They tell stories, Winn gets drunk, and James hugs both Alex and Lena tightly, promising to stay in touch—promising to be around the second they ever need him. He tells Winn that being his partner was one of the greatest things he’s ever done in his life.

Alex stops mentioning her certainty that Kara is still alive, but bags appear beneath her eyes, Maggie claims that she doesn’t know where Alex is most times, J’onn tells Lena he’s worried and he wants her help in finally putting this all to rest.

Maggie gets a promotion and the night they celebrate almost feels normal, even if there’s a wide gaping wound, a space that they attempt to fill with music and laughter, an emptiness that is palpable and harsh.

Lena invites Alex and Winn to a symposium for technological innovations, and the three of dork out. Maggie fondly calls them her favorite nerds, and even James calls from Metropolis to tease them about it.

Before Lena knows it, another month has passed, and she wonders when it became so easy to pretend she’s just fine.

x

She dreams of Kara often.

In many respects, that statement isn’t altogether strange. She’s dreamt of Kara since the day she met the bumbling reporter. She’s dreamt of them being friends, dreamt of Kara’s laugh, dreamt of the day that Kara would trust her enough to unbutton her shirt and reveal her family’s crest.

(And these dreams weren’t just dreams—eventually they became grounded in reality.

Perhaps she should have known then, perhaps she should have realized a Luthor never would have a happy ending.)

She dreams of Kara often, that isn’t what strikes her. It’s the fact that this dream feels so real.

Kara sits on her couch, laughing as she pulls takeout containers out from a bag she’s set on the table, mumbling on about something and adjusting her glasses. And Lena can’t help it, she steps away from her desk—abandoning the work she just said she was almost done with—and approaches Kara, dropping to her knees in front of her.

“Lena?” Kara asks, looking worried, a crease appearing between her eyebrows, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. She ignores it and Lena’s met with a breathtaking view of Kara’s blue eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I think I’m dreaming,” she says softly. Rather than frown or laugh like Kara usually would, Lena just gets a soft look. The crease between Kara’s eyes disappears and she tilts her head slightly to the side, actually reaching out and cupping Lena’s cheeks with her hands.

“Would it matter if it’s a dream?”

“But then you wouldn’t be real.”

Kara’s thumbs wipe at Lena’s cheeks, and it takes a moment for Lena to realize she’s dabbing away the evidence of Lena’s tears.

“I’m real, Lena,” she says, and Lena can feel Kara’s warm breath fanning over her face as she leans in closer. “I’m real and I’m here.”

(Dream-Kara smells like the Kara Lena knew. She smells vaguely sweet with a certain undertone that Lena doesn’t know how to describe other than bright. Dream-Kara is soft and warm. Dream-Kara is leaning dangerously close and Lena wonders if it would be wrong to give in, to close the last of that distance between them and find out what Kara tastes like—even if it’s a dream, even if it’s not real.)

“I miss you,” Lena finds herself mumbling, eyes fluttering shut, and she doesn’t have to wonder about the morals of kissing the dream-version of the woman she’s in love with because Kara takes the decision out of her hands entirely.

She kisses Lena hungrily, fingers threading into Lena’s hair and tugging her closer, and Lena isn’t quite sure if it’s her heart that’s hammering away or if it’s Kara’s. And when Kara releases her hair, when her teeth drag over Lena’s lips and her hands trace the contours of Lena’s body, Lena stops thinking about hearts. She accepts what Kara gives her, her own hands trembling as she desperately holds Kara to her, worried that if she releases her hold even for a moment the dream will dematerialize and she’ll be left alone again.

It’s a dream (and Lena dreams of Kara often) but damn it if it didn’t feel real.

“I’m here,” Kara tells her in between kisses—head spinning, heart pounding, world upturning, kisses. “I’m here and you’re gonna find me.”

x

“You were right!” Lena shouts, banging on the door with no thought at all to the time or how it must look. “You were right!” she shouts again, shocked when the door flies open before she can knock again.

“You better have a damn good reason for this racket, Luthor,” Alex hisses, putting her gun away and dragging Lena inside her apartment. She looks disheveled, a little more than half-asleep, and Lena considers for one moment that maybe she could’ve waited until the morning for this.

“You were right,” she says again, deciding this was urgent enough to justify pulling Alex out of bed. From the other side of the apartment, Maggie comes shuffling over, scratching at her cheek, squinting at the kitchen lights and Lena’s exuberance.

“What’s going on?” the detective asks.

“I don’t know, ask Lena, she’s the one who tried to ram her way in.”

“You were right,” Lena says again, not understanding how Alex still hasn’t caught on.

“I get it, I was right, but about what?”

“Kara.”

That’s it, that’s all it takes, that single word, uttered as barely a breath, barely a whisper, nothing more than a prayer. It’s one word and Alex’s eyes fill with tears, and before Lena knows it, the elder Danvers has rammed into her, engulfing her in a tight embrace, practically sobbing with relief.

“She’s alive,” Alex says, “she’s alive.”

“You were right, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you before, I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you.” She wants to say more but Alex has pulled away and is looking at Lena like she singlehandedly saved Kara herself, while Maggie looks vaguely suspicious.

“What brought this on, Luthor?” Maggie asks, ever the detective. “What changed your mind?”

Alex steps further away from Lena, both of them turning to look at Maggie in unison, frowning at her tone. Maggie doesn’t shy away from their stares; instead, her back straightens and her arms cross her chest defensively.

“What?” she asks when Lena and Alex merely continue to stare at her. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“Except it’s not the one you’re really asking, detective,” Lena says, eyes narrowed. “Say what you mean.” She hopes Maggie will drop it, she hopes that Maggie will raise her hands in surrender and back off.

Maggie doesn’t.

“Fine. You were supposed to help Alex accept what happened, not make all this worse.” Maggie’s tone is cold and hard, slipping into the part she plays when she’s at work, and Lena thinks she can actually spot the moment that Alex’s faith in her girlfriend slips away. Because Maggie’s tone, stance, and stubborn gaze makes one thing abundantly clear: she does not believe them.

“She’s alive,” Lena insists, looking from Maggie to Alex, noticing the elder Danvers seems distracted, her eyes now on the ground, her hands shaking. “She didn’t die.”

“For fuck’s—we all saw what happened, Lena! We all saw the attack and the fall.”

“No, we only saw what they wantedus to see,” Lena says, ignoring Maggie’s scoff and focusing on Alex. “We were convinced Kara died, but what if someone wanted it that way?”

“The entire world thinks Kara’s dead, Lena!” Maggie says, her eyes on Alex as well though she steps between the two of them, as if blocking Alex from Lena’s line of sight would somehow protect her girlfriend from what Lena is saying. “You can’t tell me that there’s someone out there that can make the entire world hallucinate something simultaneously.”

“Not the entire world, actually. Just us. We were the ones that told the world she was gone.”

“That still doesn’t explain how we were tricked—”

“—that Martians can plant images or thoughts in people’s mind with their telepathy—”

“—unless you’re accusing J’onn there aren’t any other Martians to plant anything—”

“—and Martians aren’t the only alien species who have telepathic powers!” Lena finishes, throwing her hands up in the air. She knows her cheeks are likely covered in red splotches, a flush appearing on her neck and ears thanks to the combination of frustration and pale skin, and her chest is heaving, but she doesn’t back down. She can’t.

Kara is alive, and they had to find her.

“Alex,” Lena says, looking past Maggie’s disapproving face and staring at the elder Danvers who’s remained uncharacteristically silent on the matter. “I wouldn’t be standing here if I wasn’t sure. I looked into those reports—the surges and miracles you talked about. Kara’s out there, and she’s trying to get home.”

Alex looks up and Maggie’s shoulders deflate at the fire in Alex’s eyes—the determination, the vindication, the hope,shining brightly. “Finally,” she says, squaring her shoulders and nodding. “You finally believe me.

“Alex—” Lena begins, but Alex waves her off.

“Better late than never, Luthor. But we have a lot of work to do.”

“Where do we start?”

“With Clark. If anyone knows what really happened, it’s him. I’m just going to need your help.” She grins broadly and rushes off, heading towards her bedroom—to dress, to gather her things, to call Clark, Lena doesn’t know. She just wishes that Alex hadn’t left her alone with Maggie Sawyer.

“If you’re wrong, it’ll break her. If you’re wrong, I’m coming after you,” she threatens lowly, stepping into Lena’s space.

“Don’t worry, detective. If I’m wrong, it’ll be punishment enough.”

Maggie softens at the admission—said softly and reluctantly—and she takes a step back, letting out a loud sigh and rolling her eyes. “Falling for a Danvers sister. I guess you and I have more in common than I thought.” She studies Lena’s face for a moment, likely detecting something Lena has no desire to have anyone detect or understand, and without warning she steps into Lena’s space again, this time pulling her into a hug. She holds on tightly, apparently not bothered that Lena doesn’t hug her back, not bothered that Lena’s just a little stiff and more than a little awkward. “If you and Alex believe, it’s enough for me. Let’s go get our Supergirl back, shall we?”

x

“What changed your mind?” Alex asks as the elevator stops, smiling awkwardly at a frazzled looking reporter with a stack of papers in his hands, mumbling under his breath as he gets off on his floor. When the elevator doors slide shut and they’re alone, Lena leans her head back against the wall, watching the numbers light up on the panel as they pass several floors.

“I had a dream,” she answers honestly.

“Oh?”

(It sounds like an Oh?, a ‘Oh, you had that sort of dream?’ and it makes Lena blush.

Because, yes, that’s a part of it. But it was mostly Kara’s certainty that Lena would find her. It was the reminder that Kara always hoped—always had faith—and Lena owed it to her be the same way.

And to be perfectly frank, telling Kara’s sister about her feelings for the alien is a conversation she’s not keen on having.)

“Yes.”

“Not going to elaborate?”

“Kara always believed in me. And I believe in her. And by extension you.”

“Oh damn, Maggie was right,” Alex says, eyes wide. Fortunately, Lena’s spared having to think of a response when the elevator comes to a halt and the doors slide open to their floor. “After you, Luthor,” Alex says with a grin, motioning for Lena to go on ahead of her. With a huff, Lena does as she’s told, holding her head up high as they walk through the office, ignoring the looks—from shock to distrust to amusement—that follow them as they pass by cubicles. The whisperings of ‘Holy shit is that Lena Luthor?’ begin immediately, and Lena curses the entire place for the umpteenth time.

She really, really hates The Daily Planet.

They catch sight of James as they blindly walk around, and his wide smile and genuine happiness to see them puts Lena at ease despite where she is and who’s she’s surrounded by (vultures, the very vultures that destroyed her family’s name, dragging it through the mud, though admittedly, much of that dragging was deserved thanks to Lex and Lillian).

“He’s not here,” James informs them after quick greetings and a tight hug, pulling them into an empty room and closing the door behind him. “There was a fire and he went to help out, he should be back soon.”

“Thank you for this, James,” Alex says, looking relieved. “I know Clark’s your friend—”

“Don’t thank me, I looked at the footage like you said. You’re right, it’s fishy. And if tricking Clark helps us get to the bottom of it…” He trails off, clearly unwilling to state how he’s prepared to hurt his best friend in order to find Kara. “Do you think it’ll work?”

“Mr. Kent doesn’t trust me,” Lena says with an easy shrug. “I say it’ll work quite fine.”  Alex opens her mouth, almost as if she wants to reassure Lena that Clark’s alone in his reticence to trust the last remaining Luthor, but it snaps back shut when they hear a flurry and a sound of boots landing. (Lena’s sure Alex just had the same thought she did: for a moment—just a moment—they both convinced themselves they’d turn around and see Kara come in from the window, a grin in her face from the flight, her hands on her hips, hair windswept. Instead, they’re met with Clark Kent’s narrowed and suspicious eyes.)

“James? What is this?”

“We want to know where you took Kara,” Alex says before James can even open his mouth. Clark—Superman, Lena’s not really sure how to address him—stares as his best friend merely steps back and allows Alex to begin her interrogation.

“I told you the last several times you came here,” Clark begins heatedly, revealing where Alex was off to when neither Maggie or J’onn were aware of her whereabouts, “she’s gone. She’s in Rao’s light and you need to let her go.”

“My sister is not dead!”

“Alex,” Lena warns, worried they’ll be overheard. Clark seems to share the concern because he raises his hands in surrender.

“You’re sad,” he says bracingly. “I understand. I’m sad too.”

“Don’t you dare,” Alex hisses, “don’t you dare pretend you’re going through anything similar to me. I love her, I’d do anything for her. You gave her up! You sent her away! You abandoned her!”

“I loved Supergirl too—”

“Kara is not gone,” Alex interrupts, shocking Clark enough that his hands drop and his eyes flit over to Lena.

“Alex, what’re you doing—”

“I know who you are, Mr. Kent,” Lena says, rolling her eyes at the fear clear on his face. “I may not be like Lex in many respects, but neither of us are blind and glasses are not an adequate disguise.”

“Lex Luthor knows about—”

“We don’t have time for this. Tell us where you took Kara.” Lena must not sound as scary as Kara sometimes claimed she did, because Clark just groans.

“For the hundredth time, Kara is gone. I heard her heart stop.”

“Did you? Or did you just think you did?” James questions, leaning against the door. “You should listen to what they have to say, Clark. Because if they’re right, Kara’s in trouble and she needs our help.”

“And if I don’t?” Clark asks, his false bravado failing as his voice shakes even at the possibility of his cousin still being alive—at somehow having been wrong. Lena pushes aside the pity she suddenly feels for him—the sorrow that fills her at the thought that Clark has spent the last several months thinking he not only lost his only genetic relation, but one of his kind, leaving the weight of an entire civilization (not even rightly his), once on Kara’s shoulders, solely on his back—and steps forward.  

“If you don’t, Mr. Kent,” Lena says, her voice low and her tone cold, “I’ll do what my brother couldn’t bring himself to: I’ll tell the world who you really are.”

x

J’onn, Maggie, and James (as the Guardian) go over the details of the plan again, but Lena sits back, content to watch Winn argue a point, Vasquez and Lucy offering their own advice and suggestions.

It’s remarkable, really, how many people have been willing to put their hearts on the line in order to pursue this razor thin thread of hope that Alex’s faith and a bit of shaky footage has offered them. It’s remarkable how a few seconds of video—moments, mere heartbeats, really—show the relief on Clark’s face before it morphs into despair and that’s enough for all of them to practically move into the DEO and use the information Clark gave them to attempt to figure out where Kara could be.

(“I took her to the Fortress, I thought maybe Kelex could help somehow. But I had to leave—there was a plane crash over Bulgaria—and when I got back, Kara was gone and Kelex told me she’d joined her family in Rao’s light. I didn’t think to question it. I was sure I heard her heart stop.”

“If we don’t find her, it’ll be your fault.”

“I was trying to protect you, Alex. I didn’t want you to keep hoping for something that wouldn’t come true. I’m sorry. Let me help now.”

“I think you’ve done more than enough protecting, Clark,” Alex had hissed, and that was that.)

And though she knows it’s a waiting game at this point—already having done as much as she could by helping Winn design the program that could narrow Kara’s location—she feels useless and helpless. She wants to be moving, she wants to feel as if she’s accomplishing something, she wants Kara in her arms, wants to kiss her for real—admit how she feels for real.

She just wants Kara back, in any capacity. A friend, the city’s superhero, a bumbling reporter. Kara needed to come back.

“Hungry?” Alex asks, interrupting Lena’s thoughts as she plops down in the chair next to Lena, offering an energy bar. Lena shakes her head and Alex shrugs, unwrapping the bar and taking a large bite. “You know, Luthor,” she says between chews, raising one eyebrow, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Clark scared till you threatened him. I’m impressed.”

“It was all in a day’s work,” Lena says proudly before her shoulders droop. “I just hope Kara doesn’t hate me for it.”

“If anything, Kara will be too busy hating me to hate you. So I think you’ll be fine.”

“Why would Kara hate you?”

She regrets the question as soon as she asks it because it makes Alex’s smile and her cheerful attitude slip away almost immediately.

“It was my fault.”

“No,” Lena immediately denies, shaking her head. “No it wasn’t.”

“Don’t lie, you’re not good at it,” Alex says mirthlessly. “It’s something you and my sister share.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“That’s the issue, isn’t it? I just…stood back. Allowed it to happen. Ignored the warning signs because of a charming smile and a few excuses.” She turns her head, and Lena looks down, wanting to spare Alex the embarrassment of seeing her cry—something she thinks the agent is tired of doing in front of Lena. “I was so involvedwith Kara’s relationship with James,” Alex continues, voice muffled. “We talked almost every night, we joked about it, I let her cry on my shoulder when Lucy came to National City. But with Mon-El—God, I didn’t even questionit. Didn’t even wonder if it was really something she wanted, but I pushed for it because I wanted her to have what I have. And when things started to fray with him, all the fights and the arguments…I just thought it was none of my business. I stayed out of it, and Lena, that’s on me.”

“You couldn’t have known he would turn out the way he did.”

“You mean violent? Aggressive? Selfish? Because I did know all that. We allknew that.”

“The only one responsible for Mon-El’s actions is Mon-El. And he got what he deserved.”

“He should’ve died. I should’ve killed him.”

“Except you’re not a killer.” Lena looks over at Alex, frowning at the strained look on her face and her tense shoulders. “Kara loves you and she wouldn’t want you to become a killer for her.”

“Technically, it wouldn’t be for her. It’d be to get rid of the worst thing to happen to this planet,” Alex says wryly, clearly attempting to joke and change the subject. But Lena’s more stubborn than Alex expects, and she doesn’t smile or even react to the comment.

“When Lex did the things he did I wondered if anything I ever accomplished would matter. After all, I’d always be tainted by Lex, his dark shadow always looming over me. In the end, it was Kara who made me see that what I do matters, that I was right in wanting to move away from Lex’s legacy.”

“Yeah?” Alex says disinterestedly, still trying to shrug this topic off.  

“Yes. Kara is living proof that regardless of all the terrible things that happen—to us or others—we still have a choice, we still have the opportunity to do as much good as we can, be as kind and accepting as possible, and change the world for the better.” Lena smiles, bumping shoulders with Alex. “You don’t pay back bad with more bad, Alex Danvers. You squash it out by overwhelming the world with good.”

“God, you’re a sap. You really love her, don’t you?” Alex says, and this time, Lena allows the subject change, ignoring the tears in Alex’s eyes.

“Yeah. I do.”

x

They get their first real break when a woman visiting family in India returns with stories of a super woman who could carry more weight than any of the men in their town, a super woman who’d single-handedly saved dozens after an earthquake caused the local hospital to collapse, reminding everyone of the fallen hero, Supergirl.

But when Lena prepares to pack, prepares to visit the area along with Alex, Lucy, J’onn, Vasquez, and others, she’s held back by Maggie.

“You and me are sitting this one out, Luthor,” Maggie tells her, leaning against the doorway to the DEO barracks where Lena’s been spending her time away from the office. She makes another mental note to give Jess a pay raise after she didn’t question why Lena asked for some of her clothes to be brought to the office—didn’t even raise an eyebrow when Lena came in every morning with yesterday’s clothing.

“Like hell we are,” Lena shoots back, resuming her packing. (Mostly it’s just essentials, a laptop to work, her phone charger to make sure she could keep up with the going-ons at L-Corp.) “I want to be there when we find Kara.”

“She might not be there.”

“Maggie—”

“I’m just being realistic. It might be a coincidence. And if it isn’t, haven’t you wondered why Kara hasn’t come back if she still has her powers? Why she’s been MIA for months?”

“Maybe she can’t. Maybe she’s hurt. Maybe she’s being threatened.”

“But she has time to help earthquake victims?”

“Dammit Maggie!” Lena shouts, at wit’s end, tired of Maggie’s endless cynicism. (And if a part of her knows it’s not cynicism but pragmatism—something Lena used to be known for, a cold logic she could apply to any situation regardless of her feelings, except apparently, when it involves Kara—she doesn’t dwell on it. She can’t.) “What do you want from me?” she asks, voice dropping to barely a whisper, collapsing onto her bunk and cradling her head in her hands.

“You’re worried. You’re scared. You’re hurt. I get it, Luthor, I do. But you’re not thinking straight. Kara’s a part of the DEO, she’s their agent, and recovering her is a mission for the DEO. Not for a lowly NCPD detective, and not for a CEO.”

“You wanted to go too, didn’t you? Who said no? J’onn? Alex?”

“Little Danvers is important to me, even if you and Alex think I’m a monster for being realistic about this whole thing.” She pauses, leaning her head against the doorway and closing her eyes briefly. “I want her to be alive too. I want her back too.” She opens her eyes and straightens, eyes determined. “I said you and Alex believing is enough for me, and I meant it. But someone has to be ready to pick up the pieces if all this goes wrong.”

“That doesn’t sound like faith, detective. It sounds like you’re waiting to play cleanup.”

“In my experience, faith doesn’t really work out.”

Lena drops her hands and finds herself smiling at Maggie, shrugging helplessly even as she resigns herself to remaining behind.

“Yes, my experience is like that too. But this is Kara. So I believe.”

Maggie snorts, shuffling over to Lena’s bunk and sitting down next to her, the two of them staring at the floor. “Like I said, how it is bubbly, happy Little Danvers attracted such stubborn people will forever be a mystery to me.”

“Probably because she’s the most stubborn of all of us.”

(And if it’s said almost like a prayer—a hope that Kara’s stubbornness gets her through this latest threat, this latest obstacle in her life as a superhero—neither Maggie nor Lena show any indication they notice it. They can’t.)

x

She spends her lunch walking in Hero’s Park.

The memorial is finished now, nearly six months after Supergirl fell to her supposed death, and it truly is breathtaking. The statue stands near a fountain that’s shaped like the House of El crest, a massive ‘S’ standing in the center, covered in words people have used to describe Supergirl. (Things like hero, brave, gentle, kind, friend, and even love.) It’s become somewhat of a tourist destination, especially after Superman came one afternoon to brush his hand over Kara’s likeness, as if he thought if he stared hard enough or hoped hard enough, the stone would dematerialize and leave a very real and very alive Kara in its place.

(He uses that visit to also come by the DEO and apologize again, offering his help again, and Lena wishes she could’ve seen Alex’s scathing response, even if J’onn accepted the aid—stating they’d need all the help they could get.)

James, Winn, and Maggie are with her, the four of them left behind, banding together in this moment, breathlessly waiting for news—for Alex’s return, if all goes right, with Kara. James keeps staring at the statue, Winn chatters nervously, and Maggie’s texting, her brows furrowed at whatever she’s reading.

Lena doesn’t ask—she worries it involves Kara and she isn’t sure she wants to know if anything’s gone wrong.

“We should have a game night to celebrate her return,” James says suddenly. “All you can eat pizza and potstickers and ice cream. Maybe some of that alien alcohol that can get Kara drunk.”

“And Monopoly,” Winn adds. “If she’s getting drunk we should play Monopoly, it’s always more fun that way.”

“And karaoke,” Maggie laughs, slipping her phone into her pocket and grinning. “Have you heard Kara sing? There’s a reason she’s called super.”

“We should invite everybody,” Winn continues. “From the DEO, Metropolis—drag Cat Grant into it if we have to. Maybe we could even get into contact with her inter-dimensional friends, Barry and Cisco and the others.” He smiles dreamily. “I can talk about the multiverse with them.”

“The first thing I’m going to do when Kara’s back is give her a hug,” Maggie says. “I miss Little Danvers’ hugs.”

“I’m going to spoil every single TV show she follows. It’s going to make her so mad,” Winn says happily, rubbing his hands together.

“I’ll just tell her that Cat’s back in charge and that Kara’s job is waiting for her if she wants it.”

“Lena?” Maggie question, coming to a halt and pulling Lena to a stop as well. “What about you?”

“I think I’ll just be happy she’s back,” Lena says, not meeting Maggie’s eyes and ignoring Winn’s blatant amusement and James’s raised eyebrows.

“Come on, Luthor,” Maggie presses.

“Yeah, Lena. There’s nothing you want to tell Kara?” Winn adds, holding back a smile.

“You know, the one obvious thing throughout all this, something you’d think one would want to confess if they got a second chance?” James asks, his eyebrows still comically raised.

“I don’t know what any of you mean,” Lena says resolutely, her chin jutting out even as she avoids all their eyes. “Kara being back would be more than enough for me.”

“Kara being back would be more than enough for all of us,” James says, actually letting out a laugh. “But take it from someone who’s been where you are—if you don’t tell her, you’ll regret it forever.”

x

Supergirl returns to National City on a Saturday.

It makes her wonder sometimes, this sole fact. Because Supergirl returns quietly, without fanfare, without buzz, rolled into the DEO on a bed, injured and unconscious, Alex gripping her hand so tightly that Lena is almost sure she’s impending blood flow.

(Over the next few days, the story—the truth—begins to come out. There’s talk of spores from a starfish-like alien named Starro. How this alien has hated Superman since he and others locked Starro away, how the spores were able to not mind-control entirely but suggest certain thoughts, how Supergirl had been trying to get back for months, resisting the spore’s effects as best she could. There’s explanations as to how Superman was exposed to the spores in the first place, how he came to be so sure that Kara died in his arms, how Kara managed to leave the Fortress of Solitude as weak as she was, as confused as she was.

And the strangest thing of all, Kara’s last words before she passes out after Alex removes the spores: where’s Lena?)

Supergirl returns to National City on a Saturday and it’s extraordinary in its simplicity, its easiness, the utter sense of rightness. She slips in as if she never left, as if she was never gone, as if no time has passed at all, and even though she’s laying on a bed underneath several sun lamps, Alex never straying too far from her side, she feels so permanent—so unmovable and untouchable.

Supergirl returns to National City on a Saturday, and by Monday the entire world becomes aware of it as well when she saves a school bus from getting hit by a man running a red light.

(It’s as if the world is upturned again, as if they entered some sort of alternate realty. The President returns to National City for a photo op with Supergirl, shaking her hand and exclaiming how glad she is to have Supergirl back. The memorial remains in place but is called a celebratory monument. People swarm into the park, hoping to get a photo with the statue and maybe even a flash of red as Supergirl flies by overhead.

Alex calls Lena at work and tells her that Superman comes to the DEO not even a day after Supergirl wakes up, exclaiming how grateful he is to have her back, and how much they need to watch ‘that Luthor,’ much to Alex’s amusement.

James visits and admits Cat offered his job back and he thinks he might take it, realizing after some time away that the distance from his friends wasn’t something he could live with.)

(Lena doesn’t see Supergirl after that first Saturday she’s back. She wishes she could stay by Kara’s side like Alex, but she manages little more than brief visits when she has the time, and after Kara wakes up, Lena’s assaulted by reporters asking her how she feels about Supergirl’s return, embroiling L-Corp in a conversation her company shouldn’t be involved in. She’s busyand Supergirl is busy—making up for all the lost time, zooming about all hours of the day and night, no job too large or too small for her help—and it’s okay.

After all, all she needs to do when she feels overwhelmed or sad or worried is close her eyes and listen to the superhero speeding about the city, or turn on the news and witness it for herself, for her heart to settle and her mind to ease.)

And while James, Alex, Maggie, and even J’onn ask if Lena’s seen Kara yet—ask if she wants help tracking Kara down, getting her alone, admitting the truth. But they don’t understand, Lena doesn’t need anything other than knowing Supergirl is around. They don’t understand that for Lena, Supergirl’s presence in National City is enough.

Because Supergirl returns to National City on a Saturday, but more importantly, so doesKara.

x

A week passes before Lena hears that oh-so-telling thud of boots against her balcony. It’s years of lessons drilled into her head about not reacting—never showing her hand—that stops her from turning around immediately, not rushing to Kara immediately, not gushing immediately. Instead she slowly shuts her laptop and smiles as Kara steps into view, her hands on her hips, her head tilted to the side.

“Are you avoiding me, Lena Luthor?” Kara asks, the first thing she’s said to Lena since before the fall, since before the world turned upside down at the loss of their greatest hero. She’s smiling as she moves to stand in front of Lena’s desk, arms crossing over her chest, covering up her House’s coat of arms. There’s an odd sense of tension between them, a silence filled with so much going unsaid, an awkwardness that only time and distance can ever really bring about.

“I could ask you the same thing, Supergirl,” Lena says as she stares at the woman who’s her best friend, the woman she’s fallen in love with, the woman she felt so lost without. She wanted Kara back, and now that she is, it’s frustrating that it feels so strange.

“Apparently disappearing for months on end is not a good idea,” Kara says, leaning back onto the heels of her feet. “Means a lot of work when you finally get back.”

“Something to remember the next time you decide to make the entire world think you’re dead, I’m sure,” Lena says, unable to keep her eyes off Kara, roving over the curls of her hair, the blue of her eyes, the lift of her lips, the tap of her fingers, even the set of her shoulders. Lena drinks her in, storing up for another potential drought, never wanting to forget the strength of Kara’s back, the crinkles at the corners of her eyes. She’s back, Lena reminds herself. This was what she wanted. This was the thing she hoped for.

“I’m sorry about that by the way,” Kara says, dropping her gaze. “I hadn’t meant—”

“To get betrayed by someone we all trusted and then be subjected to one of Superman’s enemies? You’re not the only one who didn’t mean for that to happen, Kara. And none of it is your fault.”

“I should’ve known better,” she says, hanging her head. “I didknow better but somehow he…” Lena watches as Kara trails off, struggling to find the words to explain what went wrong, and Lena finds that enough is enough. Awkwardness and tension be damned, she gets up quickly, rounds the desk, and pulls Kara into a hug (the first hug since before the fall, since before losing her best friend, since before her world turned upside down at the loss of the woman she’s in love with).

“I missed you so much,” Lena says, wanting nothing but to show Kara how amazing she is, how wonderful she is, how utterly neededshe is. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I knew, you know,” Kara mutters into Lena’s neck, her arms wrapping around Lena’s waist pulling her closer. “I knew you and Alex wouldn’t give up on me. I knew you two would find me.”

And Lena knows that one day she and Alex will have to tell Kara about the drinking, about how everyone ignored Alex for months, about how it took a very realdream about Kara for Lena to believe as well. And she knows that one day—not today, but soon—Kara will have to talk about what happened to her, explain how it was that she fought off the spores that had so completely convinced Clark of her death.

But today, the first time Lena has seen Kara since the fall, since her supposed death, all that can wait. Today, Lena just holds on tighter to Kara, revels in her warmth, and lets out a laugh.

“I suppose Alex and I are just stubborn that way.”

x

The next time she visits Hero’s Park and the monument dedicated to Supergirl, it’s with Kara, the two of them arm in arm, Kara enjoying an ice cream cone.

“Lucy and James got back together,” Kara informs Lena suddenly, releasing Lena’s arm and turning around to walk backwards, one sticky hand holding onto Lena’s hand. “Lucy says they’re pretty happy.”

“I’m glad. James and Lucy deserve that.”

“They do. Honestly, I’m not surprised. James has been different these past few months, spending so much time at the DEO and with Lucy—it was obvious he wanted to try again.”

“I’m just glad James decided to stay in National City. I don’t think anyone would be able to control Winn’s cheating at game night otherwise.”

“I don’t think Clark’s quite forgiven James yet for what you and Alex did,” Kara says with a laugh, squeezing Lena’s hand when she looks away at the reminder. “I doubt James wants to go back to Metropolis anytime soon.”

“It’s not like I would’ve actually given away his secret. It’s not my fault he doesn’t see past my last name.”

“Exactly.”

“And I—wait. What?”

“I said exactly. I love Clark, but the man needs to relax a little bit more. All that stress probably isn’t very healthy.” Kara grins and motions towards Lena’s bench—the one she spent so much time on nearly a year ago. They sit down together, arms brushing, and like always, Lena’s heart rate spikes at merely the proximity.

“Alex says I traumatized him.”

“Pfft. Alex is the one who traumatizes people. You’re too…you for that.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“You know,” Kara gestures wildly over at Lena, her eyes wide. “You’re you.”

“I’m sorry, Kara, I don’t know what you mean—”

“—you’re aloof but really warm and kind behind all that standoffishness and it’s just…you. An oxymoron personified.”  

“If you say so…” Lena mumbles, not at all sure if she should be insulted or not. She’s not even quite sure if she wantsto be her, as Kara puts it. Mostly, she wishes she was anyone but herself.

“James told me to wait for you,” Kara says, making Lena lose her train of thought and turn to her in confusion, “but I’m sort of tired of waiting because, well, I’m not the most patient person ever.”

“No, you’re really not.”

“And the thing is, I’ve told Alex, but I haven’t told you because I was scared, but you being you…I mean, that’s what saved me.”

Lena laughs, rolling her eyes and bumping shoulders with Kara. “Are you talking about that attack on L-Corp earlier this week? For the last time, Kara, I didn’t saveyou, I just did what I had to do to. Besides, he was myformer employee, if anything it’s my fault that—”

“I’m talking about last year, Lena. About the spores and being stranded at the Fortress of Solitude.” That shuts Lena up, her mouth snapping close, her eyes somehow fixed on Kara’s uncharacteristically serious face. “I’d get these flashes of you,” she continues. “Of something you said, something you did, and I’d realize that whatever was happening wasn’t real. Because of you. Because youfelt real.” She laughs, returning to her normal, bumbling self, her hands adjusting her glasses awkwardly, her lips twisted into a wry smile. “You saved me from my own thoughts and I guess—”

This time, it’s Lena’s turn to interrupt Kara. Not with words, not with a look, but by leaning in and pressing their lips together in a kiss remarkably similar to the one she dreamed about, momentarily making Lena question whether what’s happening is real or not.

And when she pulls away to see Kara’s eyes flutter open, a thrilled grin on her lips, Lena finds herself falling yet again.

But in a good way—in the only way that matters.

[mobius-prime]

228. Sonic the Hedgehog #160

Birthday Bash! (Part One): Giving and Receiving

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Jason Jensen

Welcome to the beginning of Ian Flynn's reign, everyone! As many of you will know, Ian is a fan favorite amongst readers of the comics, and for good reason. Objectively, I'd say he has a much better sense than any previous writer of how to construct dynamic and interesting stories, as well as a great head for writing dialogue. Every character has their own unique voice when speaking, and as someone who takes a particular interest in dialogue in her own writing, it's something I admire a lot, especially given how stilted and unnaturally formal a lot of dialogue by Karl and especially Kenders often sounded, regardless of who was speaking. That said, I think that it took a good year or so for him to fully come into his own as head writer for the series, so some earlier issues are a bit strange and not up to par with a lot of his later work. Some of this, to be fair, is due to him essentially playing clean-up for this first year, untangling a lot of the bizarre leftover plot threads that Karl and Kenders left behind, and generally trying to make the world of the comics conform a little better to that of the games. All that aside, anyone reading the comics will likely notice an immediate and apparent improvement in the overall quality of the work starting with this issue. This is helped along, in addition, by none other than the very talented artist Tracy Yardley! who always (well, almost always) introduces himself in the story credits with an exclamation mark. It's kind of his calling card. Tracy took a while to really improve his art as well, so while his earliest issues sometimes have some strange proportions and poses, later on his style became easily one of the most visually attractive and recognizable ones in the series, simplifying a lot of the inconsistencies that many character designs had as well as doing away with the strange pseudo-human proportions that some artists tended to favor, particularly with the female characters. All this said, I will say that Ian isn't going to be immune to my criticism, as while I do recognize his skill as a writer and the good things he brought to the table, there are definitely some problems I have with the way he handled certain things. We'll cross those bridges when we come to them, however, so for now, let's dive into the new world he's creating and see how he does!

Elias and Sonic are walking on the outskirts of Knothole as Elias explains why his father approved the Metal Sonic troopers from last issue. We don't even really get to hear the explanation, but to be fair, we hardly need one, as the idea was so insane to begin with that the only true explanation is that Kenders needed a plot device. Sonic tries to make Elias promise that "you royals" won't hit him with any more weird surprises, and Elias says they only have one more, leading him to a building next to where the Great Oak Slide into the village ends.

I mean, canonically he's supposed to be turning seventeen here, even though realistically he should be turning eighteen, because remember, for him to have turned sixteen in StH#68, had the Robians be deroboticized in early June in StH#123, and still have managed to spend close to a year in space before turning seventeen, literally everything in between the two aforementioned issues would have had to take place in the span of a few weeks - yes, that's counting the month-and-a-half time span that Sonic was confined to Knothole, as well as major events like Eggman's return and the entire Green Knuckles saga. You can see why this huge discrepancy still bothers me, right? Hmph. Anyway, no sooner has the party begun than an explosion destroys the door, and two new players enter the scene - Bean the Dynamite and Bark the Polar Bear from Sonic the Fighters! Nack's been part of the comic for long enough now, so it's cool to see these two make their first appearance. Bark is totally silent - as far as I remember, he never says a single word during the entirety of the comic - but Bean, in the absence of an obvious personality to draw from in the game, has subsequently been given the personality trait of "criminally insane" in the comics.. He's erratic, he talks to himself, he cracks jokes where jokes really shouldn't be cracked, and most importantly of all, he loves his goddamn bombs. Bean starts chucking said bombs left and right at the various Freedom Fighters in the base, while Sonic tangles with Bark. He seems to think these guys are only after him due to something Evil Sonic did in his place, something which he has by now apparently finally explained to all the women of Knothole, and manages to break away from Bark to stop Bean's bombing spree by pinning him to a wall and asking about Evil Sonic. However, Bean happily insists there's been no mistake and he wasn't even aware of Sonic having an evil twin, nor does he particularly care. Oh, speaking of Evil Sonic…

Huh, it seems that Evil Sonic has actually explained his true identity to Rouge in between their previous failed attempt and now. I'm surprised she hasn't outright abandoned him by now due to Rouge not exactly being evil-aligned to begin with, but I guess the pull of the shiny is just too strong for her to resist. And as it turns out, Bean suffers from a similar insatiable need! Fiona pulls out a ring of keys and shakes them around, completely distracting Bean from his current activity of bashing Sonic's head in, and throws them out the hole he made in the wall, prompting him to immediately abandon everything to chase after them. Fiona then advances on Bark, who by now has gotten himself cornered by every Freedom Fighter in the room, and convinces him to stand down as he's outnumbered. Outside, Bean plays with the keys and talks to them, seemingly convinced that they're a beautiful woman with an "adorable accent" who wants his number, when a suspiciously-Shadow-shaped shadow converges on him, prompting him to try to invite him into smashing Sonic as well. Good luck there, buddy, I don't think Shadow usually runs with crazy…

Geez, Sally, cut Fiona some slack. Not everyone had a squeaky-clean record - hell, just look at Shadow! Back in the Chaos Chamber, Rouge and Evil Sonic begin to battle Locke, who tosses Evil Sonic to the side as he perceives Rouge to be the bigger threat. However, that turns out to be a bit of a bad idea, as with Rouge tied up in the fight, Evil Sonic takes his chance to go after the Master Emerald without her, obviously recognizing it as more than just a shiny trinket.

Back in Knothole, Shadow explains that he's only here to thank Sonic for saving Hope, as he knows he wouldn't have been able to do it on his own, and reminds him that as soon as he leaves this building they're back to being enemies, as Shadow's still aligned with Eggman for now. Sonic, to his credit, seems to recognize that Shadow is only allied with Eggman because he doesn't yet know better, and cheerfully invites him to come back here whenever he cuts out on that deal in the future. It's at this point that everyone realizes Bean has quietly snuck into the brain trust's comms room to casually let Eggman know that he and Bark failed to take Sonic down, and when Fiona ushers him back out of the room, Eggman is only too happy to let Sonic know personally that he wishes him a happy birthday and he's sending him a new, more metallic present. Within seconds a thud outside alerts them to the arrival of this present, and everyone rushes out to see a strange figure emerging from an egg pod - a figure which resolves itself into the combined forms of Crocbot and Octobot, now merged into the singular entity of… Croctobot! (Don't worry, Ian knows just how silly this is and even acknowledges it next issue.) But what of Evil Sonic and Rouge? How is their fight faring against Locke after the former got knocked aside? Well, Evil Sonic takes his chance to dramatically emerge from behind the emerald as the other two get ready to continue their fight…

Plot twist! How many people actually didn't know by now that Evil Sonic and Scourge were the same person? I'm guessing there had to be at least a few of you. You can actually already see Ian's new plans being put into action - it's very telling of his intentions when the very first issue he ever pens immediately makes a point of distinguishing a rather tired and boring character into a new and improved version of himself, with a unique name and new, visually distinct look. Apparently Kenders, who if you recall is the original creator of Evil Sonic, never liked this and continued to insist on referring to him as Evil Sonic, but screw that, Scourge is a much more interesting character and this was a change that sorely needed to be made.

Sonic Rush (Part One of Two)

Writer/Pencils: Tania Del Rio Colors: Ben Hunzeker

So unfortunately, Sonic Adventure 2 isn't the only case in the preboot of a partial adaption of a game being included without any actual ending. Sonic Rush, the game, introduces Blaze, a cat from an alternate dimension that is controlled by the Sol Emeralds rather than the Chaos Emeralds, and most of the plot revolves around the Sol Emeralds ending up in Sonic's dimension and her trying to recollect them to bring back to her own world. However, things are a bit different in the comics universe. In this story, Blaze comes to Sonic's dimension because, apparently, she's been having nonstop dreams about him, dreams which show her visions of Eggman threatening the Sol Emeralds and Sonic helping her protect them. She's frustrated that she would have to rely on anyone else to help her protect the emeralds at all, believing them to be her sole responsibility, but nonetheless she's tracked Sonic to Knothole. However, while deliberating her next move, a squad of swatbots - yes, ordinary ones, it's been a while since we've seen them rather than shadow-bots - happen upon her and decide that they should take her in for interrogation.

Yeah, I guess Blaze doesn't understand the dangers present in this universe yet, does she? An hour or so later, Rotor sends for Sonic, informing him that they caught the aftermath of Blaze's capture on their video surveillance. Neither of them know who she is, but they decide she can't be from their village, since she left several disabled swatbots behind, while most people in Knothole are noncombatants and those that aren't are accounted for elsewhere. Sonic rushes out to find their trail and tracks them to a nearby facility set up amidst the trees, and while he begins fighting his way in, the scientific robots in the building go about studying their new specimen.

Sorry, but why the hell would Eggman be looking to add some random Mobian to his team? He only likes robots anyway, and tends to either betray or enslave every living being that comes to him. Blaze suddenly awakens and becomes furious - not that she's been captured, mind you, but that they took off her coat while studying her. She must be really goddamn attached to her coat, because she starts absolutely trashing the place, exploding into flames and screaming so loudly that Sonic becomes genuinely worried about her wellbeing, rushing to where he last heard her. The door of the lab she's in is completely blasted off its hinges by the force of Blaze's explosions, but thankfully after this she seems to have found her coat, because the blasts subside and she appears in the doorway wearing it once again, staring down at an utterly shocked Sonic with a look of fiery fury (the literal flames coating her entire body probably help with the "fiery" bit). Uh… good luck dealing with that, buddy boy!

[choiminhovevo]

hehe

who’s messier? Paige, unfortunately. Artists are always messy, but once they gets a cleaning bug she can be neat as Minho

do they fight often? If an argument between the two gets out of hand Paige says “let’s settle this argument with Mortal Kombat” and Minho agrees. They’ve only argued maybe twice.

who’s the funnier drunk? Paige probably. Minho controls his alcohol well and Paige is a social drinker- one wine cooler and we’re done, but two wine coolers and they’re talking about electric forks and putting salt grains on spoons for shits and giggles and everything sounds stupid.

who’s uncomfortable with PDA and who loves it? Both hate pda don’t hold hands it makes you gay.

who texts more often? Minho texts a lot. Paige writes letters.

big spoon/little spoon? Minho wants to spoon Paige but Paige hates being touched, especially when they’re sleeping. They’d rather jetpack their tall princeling.

who made the 1st move? Minho, surprisingly. Paige didn’t hide their affections for Minho, but they were just affections, nothing more, did not want to act on them because rejection = instakill. When Minho reciprocated said feelings Paige freaked like any sensible shoujo manga protagonist would and it took two volumes for them to be like “okay my shortcomings compared to your flawlessness isn’t so bad so I guess we could date.”

any nicknames? Paige calls Minho “my sun and stars,” in Dothraki. It took Minho a good six months and three watches of Game of Thrones for him to realize that oh shit they’ve been calling me this all this time?!! And the boy heart-eyes at the thought. He calls them dearest and it takes all their willpower not to roll around on the floor and squeal.

the most embarrassing music on their phone? Minho has Top 40 on his phone and Paige has an amalgam of broadway hits, Asian pop, Bengali music and Techno music. Putting their music on shuffle during long road trips is a hoot. Minho can’t deal.

what’s “their song”? In their circle of friends Paige will insist “Amerikkaz Most Wanted” by Tupac and Snoop Dogg is their song, but truthfully it’s BoA’s “Romance”.

who reads more? Minho reads just as much as Paige, but Paige has the extensive book collection and always reads the longer, “difficult” books just for the hell of it.

who remembers anniversaries? They both do; Minho is sentimental and so is Paige (but they won’t admit it). Paige has a photographic memory and remembers everything.

who is better with kids? Minho; Paige is terrified of kids, but they like them for some reason so they are patient with them as they teach them languages and useless facts. (“hey did you know that kangaroos can’t jump backwards?”)

who tops/bottoms? Paige called bottom bunk (“but I gotta pee more at night!” Minho whines. “You get top bunk,” Paige growls, booting up Mortal Kombat X on the PS4)

what’s their favorite activity? Playing games together, traveling, playing soccer, swimming, having eating contests...

weirdest hobbies? Minho watches Ron Perlman montages on YouTube sometimes...

who would make a blanket fort? would the other help? Paige makes blanket forts (“I am a fearsome dragon and I am required a cave of my choosing.” “Paige there are no caves in Seoul.” “So this blanket fort will suffice, homie.”) Minho asks if he can come in and Paige cheerfully says yes you may, and thereby declares their dragon hoard as cute soccer boys named Minho.

who cooks? Paige. Minho can cook, but he’s busier than Paige and Paige is honestly better because if it were up to Minho it would be kimchi jjigae and ramyun mostly. Should Paige cook they don’t have the same recipe every week; sometimes they’ll do themed weeks. Just no Mexican (“but I like Mexican food!” Minho whines. “I’m sick of it, plus it gives you the Hershey squirts.” “Lies and slander!”)

how do they eat ice cream? what’s their favorite flavors? They put the ice cream in their mouth and they eat it…? Paige is allergic to ice cream and eats lime sorbet while Minho likes strawberry and vanilla.

who said “i love you” first? Believe it or not, Paige did. And Minho’s brain rebooted and he stumbled over the words as he said “hey I love you too champ.” and Paige’s brain is still short-circuiting to this day.

do they go on dates? what are they like? When Minho has free time and doesn’t want to play video games with Paige they go out to dinner, go to the aquarium, go book shopping to add to their burgeoning collection (“I just can’t help myself I need books!” Paige cries. “In a few short years we’re gonna be on Hoarders, aren’t we?”) They’re very quiet and don’t draw attention to themselves because there are fans about

Christmas traditions? They wear ugly Christmas sweaters and Paige speaks a lot of German, and they bake a lot of goodies from America that Minho hasn’t heard of.

do they go trick or treating? who stays home and hands out the candy? No one trick or treats in Seoul; kids don’t go wandering in the city like that, but they do go to costume parties. Paige brings in Halloween-themed treats and they engage in spooky tomfoolery with the other members of SHINee.

do they stargaze? Expand. Stargazing is difficult in Seoul, so when they go on their rare Jeju trip, they go to the most remote part of the island, where the only light is from the fishing boats. Paige didn’t major in astronomy and Minho isn’t familiar with constellations but they like to look up at the night sky and love the atmosphere. Almost always, Paige will start to sing the Discovery Channel’s “The World is Awesome” song and Minho always has to shut them up. Do they listen? Fuck no.

who’s the laziest? Paige! Shamelessly! Minho doesn’t complain because they pull their own weight and knows that their job requires that they do a lot and when they wants to do nothing, they will do nothing, Lord willing.

who complains more? Paige doesn’t like to complain; they internalizes their strife. Minho rarely complains.

who wakes up earlier? Paige naturally gets up at 6 am and hates it. If it were up to them they’d sleep in with Minho. Minho has to get up early for flights to other countries but he wants to sleep in with Paige.

who’s more protective? Minho is the feudal lord and Paige is the handmaiden.

who gets jealous easily? Minho. His middle name is Jealousy. Paige finds it amusing, but doesn’t purposefully get into situations where his jealousy may spike. Sometimes they call him “Eifersuchtig Honeypot” and he scowls at them.

how do they cuddle? when and where? They cuddle on the couch, under a snuggie, after a long day of dance practice and translation work and art and Minho is nursing a beer and Paige is watching Funhaus.

how did they meet? Christianmingles.com Paige was wandering around the restaurants by Konkuk and stumbled into a dumpling and ramyun shop. They were eating alone and Minho was there with Jinki and some friends from TV. Minho was lamenting about how he missed the food in America and how he would like to visit the other states (“I like Texas, it’s a shame I’m never there for more than 48 hours”) and Paige is like Texas? I’m from there! And them can’t help themselves and butts into the conversation, telling them about their family in Texas and all the pros and cons of America. Normally idols are tired and don’t want to engage in public, and Paige felt bad about that, but Minho and Jinki noticed that they didn’t act like a fan and didn’t invade their space like a fan, but as a person just casually overhearing their conversation. So they talk, and are happy that they know Korean. They both try to converse in English and Paige freaks and starts speaking in German (“I have no clue what you’re saying now????”) Jinki is flummoxed but Minho is intrigued and asks the ol’ “hey do you know kpop?” question and Paige deadpans “oh boy I do.” their dry and abrasive wit is enough to make Minho laugh and open up to them easily and offers to show them around Konkuk, since they are a teacher at the Konkuk middle school. And the rest is history.

what do they smell when they smell amorentia? The fuck is this.

what lockscreens do they have? Minho has a group selca of SHINee celebrating Paige’s birthday, and Paige has a photo of Minho napping and they put a bow on his head.

how many emojis do they use and which ones? Paige keeps forgetting that emojis are a thing and Minho uses emoticons like it’s 2011.

who throws ill-advised parties? Should Taemin visit Paige’s apartment for nefarious reasons he ropes them into throwing parties where it’s nothing but Achievement Hunter playing in the background and nonstop Cards Against Humanity and Million Dollars, But… and that they get to make snacks and regales the party in their wild stories of their travels. Also it devolves into a Minho roasting session. Paige is always down for it.

who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back? Minho because Paige never locks their phone. What he doesn’t know is that Paige always has their phone on vibrate. The joke backfires. (note: the phone is Ouran High School Host Club’s opening theme and when Paige finds out they’re pissed and go to put their phone on sound)

lick-claiming. who does it? is the other deterred? Minho, believe it or not. (“Choi we have kissed at least five times your cooties are now my cooties.” Paige takes the cookie, stares into Minho’s eyes, and bites into it with passion. Minho fumes)

who glitterizes everything? Paige! Loves glitter and would have it in every inch of the apartment if they could.

who is obsessed with HSM? Minho and Paige is like “love is dead”

who draws sharpie dicks on the other when they get blackout drunk? Minho was blackout drunk once and Paige didn’t put dicks on his face (“his face is perfect I’m not gonna mar it”) but they do take his phone and put the meatspin on all his phone tabs. Minho was displeased.

who uses chopsticks/can either of them use chopsticks? Both use chopsticks, but Paige is left-handed and holds chopsticks funny and Minho calls them out on it. (“How the fuck you expect me to eat these noodles, son?!”)

when they can’t sleep what do they do? Paige takes heavy amounts of melatonin to sleep, but it rarely works so they lie there talking about their desires to travel and what they’re gonna eat the next day.

what order do they wash themselves in the shower? They both wash anywhere and everywhere; showers are for cleaning you heathen.

who impulse buys? Paige, but mainly impulse buys food and snacks.

who’s clumsier? Paige is the Lad of Stubbed Toes and who the fuck put this banana peel here? Gotta step on it? Step on it? Why? You gotta.

what are their coffee orders? Minho likes Americano with a pump of vanilla syrup, Paige likes earl grey tea with inordinate amounts of sugar.

what apps do they have? Minho has the same apps as Paige except for Pinterest, Google Docs, Netflix, and Twitter. He has sports apps and an English vocabulary app for him to practice. Paige has translator apps and Google Docs.

what are their favorite TV shows? Both like watching old school anime and nature documentaries. Paige watches travel programs and Minho watches sports

[derangedangel]

Best Friends & Boyfriends

Summary: You’re dating Isaac but have to keep it hidden because your best friend Stiles would disapprove 

Isaac Lahey x Reader

Word count: 3,082

Author’s note: First imagine. The fact that I can even put “author’s note” is weird to me. I draw art, I don’t write it. Any who, constructive criticism would be appreciated. This seems like the perfect time for one of my favorite quotes: “Keep in mind that I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my s#!t.” Please be gentle with me on this.

Great day to post since it’s Teen Wolf Tuesday and Valentine’s Day

It was Wednesday evening and you were sitting with your boyfriend Isaac on the porch swing in your backyard. A light breeze came through and blew your hair in the wind. The sky was turning pink while the sun began setting. Your legs were curled under you while you were leaning against Isaac. He had his arm wrapped around you while he kept the porch swing swaying back and forth with his long legs.

You turned to the handsome werewolf next to you grinning. “What?” Isaac said as he smirked back at you.

“Wanna hear a joke?”  

“Not really, but I know you’re going to tell it to me anyway”

“Yup.” You smiled back at him excitedly. Your jokes were lame and corny, but that’s what you loved about them. “What do you call the security guards outside Samsung stores?”

“I don’t know, what?”

“Guardians of the Galaxy!” You said laughing at your own joke. Isaac just looked at you with a small smile.

“You know like the movie… Guardians of the Galaxy. Get it?” You looked at your boyfriend waiting for an answer.

“I get it, but I’ve never seen that movie before.”

“You don’t have to watch the movie to laugh at the joke. Stiles loved that one.”

Isaac rolled his eyes at the mention of your best friend. You’ve known Stiles since birth. Your mothers were in the same Lamaze class and became instant friends. You’ve been through everything together: your first steps (naturally you walked first and had to drag Stiles along), first day of preschool, and learning to ride your bikes. When Stiles met Scott they had clicked right away. Naturally being Stiles’ best friend, you had clicked with Scott too, but Stiles was still your favorite. How could he not be? You both loved Batman. He laughed at your corny jokes. And you both had a high level of sarcasm. The only problem was, he couldn’t stand your boyfriend. Stiles was cordial with Isaac most of the time. Of course it was mainly because Scott was there and he didn’t want his best friend and his beta arguing nonstop. But if you had a nickel for every time Stiles called Isaac scarves or said something rude towards him, you could buy all the clothes in Forever21. This is why you weren’t ready to tell the pack that you two were in a relationship. You wanted everyone to know, but you didn’t want to hear Stiles list off all the reasons you shouldn’t be dating “the-one-who-wears-too-many-scarves.” It was only a month but you were tired of hiding your relationship. You just had to find a way to get two of the most important guys in your life to get along first.

You closed your eyes and sighed. “Baby, can you not do that when I mention Stiles. He is my best friend you know?”

“It was a reflex, babygirl.”

“Yeah well, can you stop? I need you two to start getting along.”

“I’m trying but it’s a little difficult to be friendly towards someone who always has something negative to say to you.”

“Don’t act like you’re a saint, Lahey. You do it right back to him. But can you try a little harder to be nice. For me… For us?” You used your best puppy dog eyes you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

Isaac looked back at you with those beautiful baby blue eyes that you adored so much. He leaned his head back and sighed. “Alright alright, I’ll try.” He looked back down at you, “Only because you’re so cute I can’t say no.”

You grinned up at the attractive boy in front of you. “Thank you. And you’re pretty darn cute yourself,” you said as you pecked him on the lips.

He scrunched his face at you. “Cute, no,” he said shaking his head. “Sexy, yes,” he grinned, nodding his head up and down.

You rolled your eyes at him giggling. “You are the sexiest guy this side of the Mississippi.”

“Only this side of the Mississippi,” Isaac questioned smirking at you.

“Well, I haven’t traveled that far east yet so I can’t say for sure.”

You and Isaac were smiling at each other when he moved a piece of hair away from your face. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

You blushed back at him and glanced down. He lifted your chin so you would look at him as he leaned in. Your lips connected in a sweet and gentle kiss. Your stomach was doing flips and Isaac smiled into the kiss listening to your rapid heartbeat.

The moment was ruined when your phone started blaring the Star Wars opening song. Isaac groaned already knowing who to thank for ruining your kiss. You took your phone out of your pocket looking at the bright light with Stiles face taking over the once blank screen. You looked at the werewolf in front of you while you hit answer.

“Hello Stiles.”

“Y/N, old buddy, old pal, best friend in the whole wide world.”

“What do you need?”

“Now why would you think I need something from you? Can’t I just call my best friend to ask how her day went?”

“Not when you answer the phone like that.”

Stiles scoffed into the phone. “I am insulted that you think that low of me Y/N.”

“What. Do. You. Want. Stiles.”

“Well… I might have waited until the last minute to do my English paper and since you’re the smartest person in class I thought you might be able to help out your old friend.”

You rubbed your eyes then looked over to your boyfriend. It didn’t take his enhanced hearing to hear Stiles side of the conversation. Since your relationship was hidden, you and Isaac didn’t get much time to yourselves. So you really didn’t want to end up spending the night with Stiles instead of him. Isaac looked at you nodding his head already knowing what you were thinking.

You responded to Stiles, “Be here in 15 minutes.”

Stiles shouted into the phone, “Yes! Thank you so much Y/N! I owe you!”

“Yes, you do. Bye Stiles,” you said hanging up the phone. You looked over to Isaac with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. I want to spend some more time with you-“

“But Stiles needs your help,” Isaac said as he cut you off. “I know. It’s okay. He is your best friend after all.”

You two got up from the porch swing headed for the front door holding hands.  Once you got to the door, you turned to face Isaac grabbing his other hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Not if I see you first,” Isaac said, leaning his tall frame down to kiss you on the lips.

You whined a little as he pulled away letting go of his hands. You leaned against the doorframe as you watched him walk off into the night. A few minutes later Roscoe pulled into your driveway. Stiles hopped out and slammed the door. You walked out onto your front steps as Stiles walked up.

“You’re saving my ass Y/N.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time. You owe me Stilinski.”

“-it was about incest! Can you believe that?”

You and Stiles walked to your usual table, lunches in tow as he was finishing telling you some story.

“Well Luke and Leia did kiss. That’s pretty nasty regardless if they didn’t know they were brother and sister at the time. That’s almost like us kissing.”

“Hey!”

“No offense Stiles, but you’re like a brother to me. We might as well have been in the womb together.”

Your best friend thought about it for a moment and replied, “I guess you’re right.”

“When am I not,” you smirked back.

Stiles was sitting next to you stuffing his face with potato chips, when Isaac came to the table and set across from you.

“Lahey,” you smiled at the brown haired boy.

“Y/L/N,” Isaac smirked back. He looked at Stiles who was still trying to swallow the mouth full of potato chips and raised his eyebrow. You starred at Isaac and quickly looked over to Stiles and back to Isaac to try to get him to speak. Isaac got the message and spoke. “Hey Stiles.”

Stiles looked up from his food at Isaac, with crumbs covering his face. “Hey…?” Isaac usually didn’t make the effort to speak to Stiles, so he thought it was pretty weird.

“Uhh…so how did your English paper turn out?”

You froze in place wide eyed as Stiles looked at Isaac. “How did you know about that?”

“Oh, um, Y/N told me about it.”

“When? We stayed up late working on my paper. I drove her to school this morning. And we have all our first classes together. Not once did I see her talk to you,” Stiles asked suspiciously.

You were worried Stiles would figure out you and Isaac were dating. Most people wouldn’t think twice about what Isaac said. But Stiles had always be a little too curious and smart for his own good.

“I ran into him when I went to the bathroom before first period,” you said a little too quickly. “He said I looked tired and I told him you kept me up late working on your paper.”

“Oh,” Stiles replied squinting his eyes from you to your boyfriend. Stiles noticed you had been acting a little different lately. Happier than usual. Thank God Scott, Lydia, and Allison showed up.

“Hey guys,” you shouted enthusiastically. Thankful the rest of your friends came to hopefully change the conversation.

School was over for the day but you had the pleasure of getting to watch the lacrosse team practice since you had to wait for Stiles to drive you home. You didn’t mind it much. It gave you an excuse to stare at Isaac without anyone noticing. You could just say you were really into the game.

You were walking towards the lacrosse field when a pair of strong arms grabbed you and yanked you around the corner.

You squealed at the sudden action, being pulled into a muscular chest. Looking up you realized it was just your boyfriend trying to get some alone time.

“Hey, babygirl,” he said with that smile that made you weak in the knees.

“Hey yourself,” you replied as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

“Yeah, but I think they can do without me for a few minutes while I make out with my girlfriend.”

“I love the way that sounds coming off your lips. Girlfriend.” You sighed looking into his gorgeous eyes. “But Coach will have a cow if you’re late. We’re playing Devenford Prep Friday and I’m pretty sure I overheard Coach say he placed a bet on the game.”

“Coach will be fine. But I won’t be until that pretty little face of yours is kissing mines.”

Grinning at Isaac you leaned in to kiss him. It was slow at first, but it was getting more heated by the second. You guessed it was because you two were interrupted last night but you weren’t complaining. If there was one thing Isaac Lahey knew how to do, it was kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck as Isaac pulled you closer. There was no better feeling than Isaac’s lips on yours. You would have happily stayed that way if you hadn’t heard Coach’s yelling getting closer and closer.

You quickly pulled away from Isaac and started walking back towards the field. You let Isaac walk ahead of you to try to not make it look so suspicious.

“There you are Lahey,” you heard Coach screeching. “Get your ass out on the field!”

As you were walking towards the bleachers, you saw Coach stop Isaac near the edge of the field. “You better not be late to the game tomorrow Lahey! Or I’m gonna have to give your spot to Greenburg.”

Coach saw the excited look on Greenburg’s face from the middle of the field. “Don’t get any ideas Greenburg! I’d give the spot to my grandmother before I gave it to you.”

Greenburg looked down in disappointment and kept practicing throwing the ball into the net.  

Stiles was running toward Coach while he was still speaking to Isaac. “Would you care to tell me why you were late to practice Lahey?”

“Uhh… I was just… I-I,” Isaac was going blank trying to come up with an excuse.

Coach examined Isaac a little further and squinted. “Is-Is that lipstick on you?”

Isaac quickly moved his hand up to his mouth to wipe off the lipstick, but it was too late. Stiles was standing next to them and saw the lipstick. There was only one person he knew who wore NYX Miami Nights. You had gone on and on about how much you loved the color and how there was no way you were going to spend twenty bucks on MAC lipstick when you could get the same for a cheaper price. That plus the fact that he saw you walk onto the field moments after Isaac had, put the idea in Stiles head. You two were dating.

You cursed yourself for putting on the lipstick that morning as Stiles glared up at you in the bleachers. You tried to smile back at him but you were pretty sure it was a terrible attempt.

Stiles looked back at Isaac who was trying to rub the lipstick off his lips. “Yeah, Isaac,” Stiles said angrily. “Where’s the lipstick from? Did you decide to try out a new look for when you join the cheerleading team?”

Isaac scowled at Stiles.

“Go sit down Stilinski,” Coach ordered. “And Lahey, I’m going to need 20 laps from you for being late to practice because of a girl.”

“Coach!” Isaac tried to plead.                                                                               

“You want to make it 30?”

Isaac glanced up and you and you smiled trying to comfort him. Isaac looked away and began doing his laps.

You were so busy watching Isaac and Coach Finstock, you didn’t notice Stiles had come and sat next to you.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” you said continuing to stare out onto the lacrosse field watching Isaac do his laps.

“Oh and what’s that?”

“You’re going to say how disappointed you are in me that I’m dating scarves and how I can do much better than a werewolf with claustrophobia.”

Stiles just looked at you. “Actually I wasn’t.”

“So what were you going to say Stiles? How can you have a best friend with such bad taste in guys?”

“No, Y/N, I wasn’t,” he said as he looked at Isaac making his third lap around the field. “I was going to say how I must be a crappy best friend for you not to tell me your dating scar- I mean Isaac.”

You turned your head to look at the mole faced boy next to you. “Stiles, you are not a crappy best friend. A little dramatic at times, yes, but crappy no.”

Stiles turned to look back at you. “Well something must be wrong if you didn’t want to tell me you had a boyfriend. We tell each other everything.”

“We do tell each other everything. And you like to tell me how much Isaac annoys you and how stupid his plans are. I wanted you to know, believe me I did. But you aren’t exactly Isaac’s biggest fan. You’re important to me Stiles, and your opinion matters. I can’t have my best friend hating my boyfriend. I thought maybe if I got Isaac to be a little nicer to you, you’d be nicer to him, and everyone would get along. I could hang out with my boyfriend and my best friend, and get the best of both worlds.”

“Okay Hannah Montana, I see your point,” Stiles smiled at his own joke. “You wanted to tell me, but I probably wouldn’t have been very accepting.”

You glanced up at Stiles, “probably?”

“Okay, I defiantly wouldn’t have been accepting,” Stiles said agreeing with you.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Look, I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me you were dating Isaac. But I promise I will try to be a little nicer about the situation.”

“Really?” You beamed at your best friend.

“Really,” Stiles replied.

You tugged him in for a tight hug thanking him repeatedly. Pulling away with your hands still on his shoulders, you told him, “He’s not as bad as you think he is I promise.”

“We’ll see. As long as he doesn’t wear anymore scarves when it’s only 65-“

“Stiles!” You shouted.

“Hey,” he said as he lifted his hands in the air in defense. “I said I’d try to be nicer. I didn’t say it’d be easy for me.”

Shaking your head at your best friend you smiled to yourself. You were just happy Stiles said he would give Isaac a chance. This meant you could finally tell the rest of the pack. You two could cuddle doing pack movie nights. Hold hands in the halls. And most importantly, kiss that perfectly chiseled face of his in public. Looking off into the distance you got lost in your thoughts.

“Y/N…,” Stiles sing-songed.

You shook your head getting the thoughts of kissing Isaac out and replied, “Yes?”

“I’ll try to be friendly to your boyfriend, but could you not get that lovey-dovey look in your eyes. It’s weird.”

You playfully hit Stiles on the arm when Isaac came jogging over to you.

“Done already?” you asked.

“I’m a werewolf remember babe,” Isaac smiled at you.

“Right…,” you smiled back.

With his werewolf hearing Isaac heard your whole conversation, but he still wanted to make sure everything was okay. “So… are we good,” he asked as he looked between you and Stiles.

Smirking at Isaac you replied, “We’re more than good.”

He smiled slyly at you. “Good,” he said as he leaned in to kiss you but Stiles stopped him.

“Hey!” You two turned to face Stiles shouting as he flailed his arms about. “Can you guys at least wait until I’m not around for you to do that?” He began to stomp down the bleachers loudly as he walked away from you two.

Looking back at Isaac you grinned, “He’ll get used to it eventually.” You leaned in to kiss your boyfriend. Now that Stiles knew, you could finally tell the world Isaac Lahey was yours.

[cool-danielramos]

Crucial Things You Should Know About Spotify

This information is dedicated to Spotify. Now you're probably wondering. What the nightmare does Spotify have regarding knowledge? Logically, perhaps not very much, but I wanted to take the time to thorough highlight a few of the good points Spotify is performing in the information world,  spotify premium apk and heck actually some things that are entirely down the information beaten road.

Find Weekly (4.5/5)

Find Weekly is just a new function Spotify fully released over the summer. Every Saturday, the playlist changes and gives you 30 tunes it's likely you have never noticed of. It takes knowledge that they have kept for you, and come up with tunes which they feel you could like. Sounds good proper? Yes. It is excellent, but after having applied this function for two months today there are always a several imperfections inside their system.

Concerns

1. Find Weekly generally seems to take based off of your all time plays. If you decide you intend to listen to a style you don't frequently listen to for a complete week, that won't be reflected in your Find Weekly. This isn't always a plus or even a minus. For me, I'd instead get audio suggestions on the basis of the audio I've listened to the majority of recently.

2. There is a supreme insufficient exposure inside their process. Understandably they don't need another person to copy how this works. I will be really curious backwards design their algorithm, but that will require checking everything I listen to throughout a week (impossible), and I'd need certainly to instantly become a software engineer(which I'm not), plus Spotify won't release how promotional activity affects this playlist.

3. The renew time of the playlist is apparently really arbitrary, and I'm uncertain the causes of it. I've had my playlist renew at 2 in the morning on Saturday, and I've had it renew at 10pm on Monday. The inconsistency is rather irritating for anyone folks that are tremendous habitual beings. UPDATE: I've today recognized so it generally seems to renew whenever you system the client. It will be good if they'd a push setting to attentive the user they need to system the customer to access it.

4. Often stuff appears which you do not like, and it's very nearly shocking when it does. There is no way to essentially resolve this on the conclusion, however it will be good if I was somehow given the capacity to opt from certain bands. For instance, I'd Upon a Burning Human body show on my playlist, which I've listened for them in the past. Properly, I'd a major fallout with that group after some stunts they taken on the new album. I lost all respect for the group and need nothing regarding listening to them.

5. Often tunes appear which can be previously on among your playlists. In the 10 weeks I've been by using this playlist, I've only had this happen once. But it's still disappointing.

Those would be the problems, but let us speak more about the advantages, and why this provides a great listening knowledge for anyone like me, the user.

Benefits

1. Rediscovering audio you forgot existed. Yes, I listen to plenty of music. I've been recognized to blast a song nonstop for a few days, then never listen to it again because I forgot to attach it to a playlist, or I have trouble finding the right playlist to put it on. Very nearly every week I uncover one of those tunes, and it's fascinating to rehear something you love.

2. Experiencing different tunes from an artist you formerly thought you merely liked a few tunes to. That is among my favorite things about the playlist by far. Often I'll hear a song by a group, only to listen to 5 different tunes and entirely loathe them so I give on the band. Then that group appears in my own DW, I grumble, and the song ultimately ends up being amazing.

3. Acquiring a group you don't hear to that particular significantly or follow properly slipped a new album, AND it's amazing. It's type of humiliating discovering a group you truly like create a new album 3 months before and you did not know about it. But Spotify is to the recovery!

Spotify Radio (1/5)

Spotify's radio providing isn't good. Plain and simple. Pandora is i think an archaic service, but they have perfected the art of radio superior to Spotify. If there is such a thing Spotify can manage to fix more than whatever else, it's their radio. It's instead irritating to make a playlist that is about 50 tunes long, seeking to boost upon it, beginning a playlist radio, and reading a number of tunes that not only do not fit in that playlist, but when you spam the next song switch get a repeat of songs.

Spotify radio has been bad for an extended time. I wish to feel it's because the radio draws from offered artists way more than artists that truly play combined with the different artists that it's relationally taking from. If that's the situation, then it's discouraging, but I understand Spotify wants to raise revenues.

Spotify Premium (5/5)

Spotify Premium is obviously perhaps not free, however the accessories you receive from paying $10/month (5 if you're a student) outweigh listening to advertisements, and perhaps not being able to get your audio with you on the go. Spotify advanced has primarily made my telephone into my full-time listening product away from home, I changed my iPod, and haven't appeared back. When we did a cost evaluation, we'd see that $120 annually, versus the $200 onetime charge of buying an iPod works out pretty well. Not merely do I have one less product to remember when I travel (oh, how discouraging it is to forget your iPod on a trip), but I also do not have to attend the problem of getting and getting audio and managing a report structure on my computer's difficult drive.

[thejustinmarshall]

The 80s Cruise Omnibus: The Like, OMG, Totally Awesome Recap.

This is a part of our full coverage of the 2018 80s Cruise. Read more about the floating music festival here. 

Guitar picks are the holy grail for many concertgoers, but Robin Legat was able to score one recently from Lou Gramm guitarist, Michael Staertow, under the oddest of circumstances. The 43-year-old fitness trainer from Los Angeles didn’t have to scramble over chairs for the keepsake, she got it by wearing bumble bee colored spandex and gifting Staerlow something very unexpected.

The Legats (center) as Stryper.

Legat was part of a foursome dressed like the 80s Christian rock band, Stryper, as a part of “Glam Rock” night on The 80s Cruise. The 2200 passengers on board the Celebrity Summit were encouraged to wear costumes for each of the six theme nights. Legat and her husband, Michael, rarely disappointed. They were clad from head to toe in spandex and scarves and passed out little keychain bibles throughout the night.

As she tells it, during Gramm’s performance, “our entire group was sitting together in the sixth row. (Staertow) and I made eye contact, and he mouthed ‘Stryper?’ to me.” She nodded and when she ran into him later that night, gifted him one of the bibles. He gave her several of the coveted picks in return.

So goes life on board The 80s Cruise. Every year, Entertainment Cruise Productions (ECP) brings together fans from all over the world to celebrate the music and pop culture of their youth. The 2018 Cruise took place from March 17-24th and featured bands with one thing in common – their music is synonymous with the decade that blinded us with science and took our breath away.

The lineup consisted of Gramm, Loverboy, Mike + the Mechanics, The Tubes, Billy Ocean, Berlin, Thomas Dolby, Katrina (of Katrina and the Waves), Tommy Heath (of Tommy Tutone), and cruise host, Rick Springfield. This was the first time ECP has booked a big-name act to anchor various events throughout the week with Springfield playing extra shows and introducing various events.

Guests were thrilled with the concerts they saw during the week. Maryland native Dave August had a clear favorite saying, “Lou Gramm was the runaway winner. (His) voice was spectacular (and) the crowd was pumped.” Legat offered a simple explanation for Gramm’s popularity amongst guests. “90 minutes of nonstop hits and he didn’t even get to everything!”

Deane Draper wore a spot on Quay Lewd costume on the 80s Cruise. Photo by Chuck Coverly

It was hard for some people to pick one favorite show. Betsey Fellwock, from Tulsa, OK, couldn’t decide, so she listed her favorites, “Loverboy, Lou Gramm, Billy Ocean, Tommy Tutone,” Tim Kelley insisted, “I’ll give two answers” before explaining that Lou Gramm had the best overall performance, but stagemanship went to The Tubes. The Asheville office manager added, “Berlin sounds better than they did in the 80s.” Steven Sciglimpaglia of Stamford, CT liked Thomas Dolby, Berlin, and The Tubes.

Sciglimpaglia appreciated the sheer weirdness of The Tubes, but they scandalized a few passengers who weren’t sure what to make of their unconventional stage show. Most passengers only knew of them from their MTV-friendly videos, “She’s a Beauty” and “Talk to Ya Later.” It came as a surprise when, near the end of the show, lead singer Fee Waybill changed into glam rocker Quay Lewd and starting drinking from a giant bottle of what looked like scotch shoved into the crotch of his silver spandex pants. John Clark from Dallas enjoyed the spectacle saying, “The Tubes should do a comedy act! They crack me up!”

The Tubes brand of humor seemed to appeal to a certain type of music fan, but Leskanich had pretty much everyone giggling during a question and answer session with Terri Nunn of Berlin and Jenna O’Gara of Jessie’s Girl. The “Walking on Sunshine” singer infused each reply with deadpan humor, often mocking the ridiculousness of the situation. When she was performing, each show felt like individual episodes of “Storytellers.” Like Berlin in 2017, Leskanich may not have been familiar to most outside of her one big hit, but she quickly endured herself to passengers, making her one of the favorite acts of the week.

Berlin’s second stint on board proved to be as successful as the first with passengers flocking to various events hosted by the band. A wine tasting with lead singer Terri Nunn sold out well in advance of the sailing and a group Q&A was standing room only. Drummer Christopher Olivas emceed two wildly popular poolside dance parties under his alias, DJ Christopher J. Longtime fans were thrilled to have John Crawford and David Diamond, both of whom founded the band with Nunn, perform in both main stage shows.

Bryan Do as “Long Duk Dong”. Photo by TuKe Photography

For Claudine Edwards of Plano, TX, just being able to see Berlin again felt like a miracle. Edwards discovered she had stage IV breast cancer following a car accident last October. A bleak prognosis made the 2018 Cruise seem like an impossibility. When radiation treatments made her incapable of eating and her hair falling out in clumps, she turned to an old favorite to help her cope. Berlin’s “Hideaway”, from Count Three and Pray, assured her it was okay to, “cry away there’s no harm.” She said, “I cried a lot and listed a lot to that song about hiding away.”

She found out she was in remission a month before sailing. Still in pain, she and her husband, Jason, arrived in Ft. Lauderdale thrilled to see friends and excited about heading back to the 80s. Each day made her feel more like her old self and she got the chance to tell John Crawford how much his song had meant to her. She said afterwards that the Cruise made her feel better for the first time since her diagnosis. She felt that, “the 80s and all of my friends lifted me up, made me stronger!”

Edwards’ opportunity to speak to Crawford highlighted one of the many things that made the Cruise so special to guests. Being able to interact with their idols through organized events was exciting, but it was the casual conversations that happened around the ship that passengers savored most. Mina Credeur from Spring, TX. said her favorite moment was hanging out in the martini bar with the two lead singers from Mike + the Mechanics, Andrew Roachford and Tim Howar.

Mike + the Mechanics were on board as a part of a small American tour to support their latest album, Let Me Fly. The last time the band was out on tour was three years ago with no plans to tour again this year, fans were lucky to catch them. They were on board for a short time, but their 90-minute set was excellent, thanks largely to Credeur’s drinking companions.

Big name acts were the obvious draw for passengers, but there wasn’t a shortage of other talent on board. Crowds were excited to see their favorite cover bands, Jessie’s Girl and Trial by Fire, back for another year. Jessie’s Girl had their own fan club that refused to miss any shows. Trial by Fire had a bigger presence this year after a very successful debut on the 2017 sailing. The two bands complimented each other with Trial by Fire providing a more traditional rock vibe while Jessie’s Girl attacked the top 40 with style and flair.

Things got a little weird on St. Patrick’s Day. Gus and Wendy Molony on The 80s Cruise.

Jessie’s Girl’s shows featured dozens of costume changes, but they couldn’t compare with the 80s cosplay going on each night. Passengers spent all year planning what they would wear for each theme and the results were pretty incredible. The entire ship was clad in green for the St. Patrick’s Day departure with Aqua Net and lamé ruling Prom. The amount of spandex roaming around for the Glam Rock theme was almost intimidating, but the one evening that brought out the most elaborate costumes was Pop Icon night.

Passageways were quiet in the late afternoon as guests returned to the cabins to transform into a variety of different pop culture icons. Soon the hallways were filled with rock stars, movie characters, and all sorts of odd 80s references. Weird Al, ZZ Top, and David Lee Roth wandered by the martini bar while Jason Vorhees and Elvira looked through the previous day’s pictures in the Photo Gallery. King Tut had a crew that followed him around all night walking like Egyptians. There were at least two sets of Blue Brothers and more Ghostbusters than you could shake a gallon of ectoplasm at. Two human-sized Smurfs sat in the balcony while Terri Nunn sang “Highway to Hell” to a Yip Yip.

The costumes caused more than a few laugh out loud moments for the musicians on board. Mike Reno of Loverboy smiled and pointed at several clones wearing his trademark headband during one show, but Bryan Do’s “Long Duk Dong” costume forced him to stop singing to take a moment and stop laughing. Do had not only nailed the outfit from Sixteen Candles, but included a blow up “sexy American girlfriend” that he carried around all night on a set of disembodied handlebars.

Mike Reno tries to silence Jay Lewis on the 80s Cruise.

Reno had a great week on board the Summit. Not only did Loverboy put on two energetic shows on the main stage, but the singer also jumped in on several performances with other artists throughout the week. Jay Lewis from Kiawah, SC was having so much fun singing along to Loverboy’s set that Reno had to walk over and Lewis’s mouth with his hand.

Loverboy wasn’t the only act Lewis found himself singing with during the week. Rick Springfield held a microphone out to him during, “Don’t Talk to Strangers,” and was a part of a crew invited up on stage to sing with Heath. He and his friends wore t-shirts that spelled out the title of Tommy Tutone’s 1981 hit, “867-5309.” After spending so much time singing along with celebrities, Lewis joked, “If I knew they expected me to also perform I would have never quit taking those piano lessons from Sister Mary Francis when I was nine.”

Heath did several solo shows during the week in addition to jamming with Jessie’s Girl and Rick Springfield during their performances. When he wasn’t on stage, the singer spent his time socializing with guests and posing for a ton of selfies. But despite patiently standing for one picture after another, the award for “Most Selfies of the Week” went to Springfield.

Springfield was the main draw for the hundreds of passengers who booked through his fan club before the last Cruise left port. Their enthusiasm was contagious, but it could also be exhausting to other guests who struggled to get into venues. As Legat explained, it was frustrating “not being able to get remotely close at any of the Rick Springfield piano bar shows because people would hold seats for hours!”

Rick Springfield gets this a lot. Shelley Meier and Rick Springfield on the 80s Cruise.

Springfield himself was affable and engaging, despite the chaos that seemed to surround him. During the main stage shows, he leapt into the audience while performing 1983’s “Human Touch”. He climbed over chairs and stopped for selfies as he traveled up and down the center section.

The “famous-person selfie” ruled the day during Billy Ocean’s concerts as well. The singer hopped on board in Jamaica for two flawless sets during which he would routinely reach down to shake hands and take pictures. He left the cruise immediately after the second show, much to the dismay of Ziva Gottesman. The San Diego native was hoping for either a meet and greet or Q&A with Ocean lamenting, “some artists aren’t on the ship long enough to do either which is a shame.”

Question and answer sessions were popular with guests, but the most surprising turned out to be the one that featured Thomas Dolby. He was familiar as the musician behind one of the instantly recognizable “She Blinded Me With Science,” but the audience for his Q&A discovered the 1982 single was just one small accomplishments in a career that has included the creation of a groundbreaking software company, directing an award-winning documentary short, and revolutionize electronic music. As if all of that wasn’t enough, Dolby explained to the crowd that his latest job is as the head of the Music for New Media program at Johns Hopkins University.

Dolby’s two sets in the 400-seat Revelations lounge at the top of the ship were amazing, despite many guests having to miss the last two songs of each. The biggest complaint with the Cruise was the conflicts caused by poor scheduling. Fellwock hated “having to leave shows to get the 9 p.m. concert.” She wasn’t alone. Dolby and Leskanich played all of their shows in Revelations with either 7:45 or 9 p.m. start times, which always conflicted with the main stage shows. The timing meant passengers never had a chance to see a full show in Revelations.

Dave August had a whole week of David Lee Roth costumes on the 80s Cruise. Photo by Chuck Coverly

It was infuriating having to choose, particularly for Michelle Tower whose two favorite acts were Dolby and Leskanich. Like everyone else holding cards for the late show, the IT Director from Cincinnati never got to hear “Walking on Sunshine” or “She Blinded Me With Science” because those were the songs at the end of the setlists. Guests had to be in the Celebrity Theater by 9 p.m. or lose their seats and have to take whatever was available in the back of the third tier.

But despite the aggravation of having to miss shows and activities due to scheduling conflicts, just about everyone said the 80s Cruises were the best vacations they had ever taken. Some passengers cited the bands as the best part of the week, some loved the decorations and feeling like they had actually traveled back in time, but for most, it was something they could never find on another vacation.

Sometimes you should meet your heroes. John Crawford and Claudine Edwards on the 80s Cruise

The bands and costumes were what initially sold the cabins, but the what brought people back after the 2016 and 2017 sailings – and will bring even more back next year – were the people that traveled back to the 80s with them. Time and time again, people said the single best thing about the Cruise was, as Amanda Olivas put it, “All of the friends we have made in the past two years!” Texan Kathy Machacek agreed that it was “the friendliness of the other guests” that made the planning and expense worthwhile. Curtis Wayne Lanclos summed it up saying, “enjoying 80s culture together is what makes it all more enjoyable!”

Olivas, Machacek, and Lanclos will be joining Edwards on the 2019 Cruise. “Yes, I will be back,” she said. “Cancer didn’t take me in 2010 and it certainly isn’t going to take me now. I have the 80s to live out again each year with our amazing friends!”

LJ Moskowitz is a photographer and writer based out of New Jersey specializing in concert, product and fine art photography. She is a member of the National Press Photographers Association (NPPA) and Professional Photographers of America (PPA). You can find her at Shutterchick Photography, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

All photos appearing on this page are the property of LJ Moskowitz. They are protected by U.S. Copyright Laws and are not to be downloaded or reproduced in any way without the written permission of LJ Moskowitz. Copyright 2018 LJ Moskowitz. All Rights Reserved.

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[toomanylovesongs]

The Ol Questionnaire

I haven't done one of these since high school, so I figured why not! 1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? Ha, yeah I totally would. 
2. You talked to an ex today, correct? Does an instagram comment exchange count? If so, yes. 
3. Have you taken someones virginity? A million years ago. 
4. Is trust a big issue for you? One of the biggest! I don't trust many folks. 
5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? It's been over a week or so, she's been out of town. 
6. What are you excited for? Hm, well soon I'm interviewing to be manager of a different location of the coffee business I work for. Going to see pals play tunes in their wicked band the night after tomorrow. 
7. What happened tonight? I came home from work and passseeddd out. Then ordered pizza, watched Masters of Sex, and doodled. It was pretty pleasant. 
8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? ...no? Just be careful! So many "disgusting" humans who take advantage of intoxicated femme. 
9. Is confidence cute? V sexy. 
10. What is the last beverage you had? Currently drinking What The Huck by Fernie Brewing Co 
11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? Hm. There's a handful. I'm related to most of them. 
12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? Yes, don't wear them super often though. Whenever I do my boss is like WHAT THE HECK?! 
13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? Seeing pals at the Palomino! 
14. What are you going to spend money on next? Realistically, food. 
15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Although she was taking some space. Soooo it's to be seen what happens with that. 
16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? Probably! might be a general manager of a new shop soon opposed to an assistant manager, so that will be a huge change if it happens. 
17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? One of my best pals Chelsea. Or my boss Jade. 
18. The last time you felt broken? Ha. Often. A few days ago? The depression had been a bit of a roller-coaster as of late. 
19. Have you had sex today? ...does it count if it's with myself? 
20. Are you starting to realize anything? Yeah. Making strides with mental health, trying to get that puppy in check. 
21. Are you in a good mood? I suppose so, yeah. Drinking a beer, listening to tunes, life's pretty alright right now. 
22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? Ha! No way. I'm a chicken. I used to get scared of sharks being in public pools when I was younger. So no. (Such a real fear (Not)) 
23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?
No, mine are pretty wild. Green with orange around the pupil. 24. What do you want right this second? CLARITY. I hate this relationship limbo. 
25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? Well it would depend on how I found out. If they were honest then I'd say, "Okay, what do you want to do from here?" 
26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? Yep! Hair's a virgin 
27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? I have before, and I definitely don't want to again. 
28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? My cat being an adorable goof. 
29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? Yep yep. Damn longing. 
30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? For most part, yes. 
31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? Nope! He's a sweet bean and we laugh a lot. 
32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? Ohhhh she sure does. 
33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? Nope, my parents used to call me the "nonstop pop girl" when I was a kid. My cavities can attest to that. 
34. Listening to? "Push+Pull" by July Talk 
35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? Not super often. I was drawing in pencil earlier tonight for the first time in a long time. 
36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? General idea, not a specific idea. 
37. Do you believe in love at first sight? Nah, I'm one of those "learn to love" kind of humans. Definitely lust at first sight though. 
38. Who did you last call? GMC City to deal with car stuff. 
39. Who was the last person you danced with? Me and my coworkers dance all the time 
40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? THE FEELS 
41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? A few days ago, there were some at work. 
42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? Negative. 
43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? That's my life story! 
44. Do you tan in the nude? I mostly just tan while I'm out and about in the world, which I am not usually nude for. 
45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? Not even a little bit. 
46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? Nah, listened to tunes until I fell asleep. 
47. Who was the last person to call you? My dad. 
48. Do you sing in the shower? Usually. 
49. Do you dance in the car? If I'm not freezing, yes! 
50. Ever used a bow and arrow? I have! I wanted to Legolas when I was a kiddo. 
51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? About a month ago. 
52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? They can be. I like them about 50% of the time. 
53. Is Christmas stressful? Yeah, I just don't do it anymore. 
54. Ever eat a pierogi? Yissssssss 
55. Favorite type of fruit pie? Hm. I don't really like fruit pies to be honest. Mostly like Pumpkin Pie. 
56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Ha. Cowgirl, inventor, be a bad ass in the men in black (my grade two career day costume), artist, many things. 
57. Do you believe in ghosts? Yessss 
58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? Almost daily. 
59. Take a vitamin daily? No, I sometimes take Vitamin D but I usually forget. 
60. Wear slippers? I have none! 
61. Wear a bath robe? Not super often. Pretty rare. 
62. What do you wear to bed? Usually a shirt and underwear. 
63. First concert? Danny Hooper at the Community Hall in Grove dale, AB haha. Big concert - Nazareth. 
64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? Targettttt. Rip target. 
65. Nike or Adidas? Not super applicable to me! 
66. Cheetos Or Fritos? Cheetos 
67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Depends if on a road trip or not. Road trip = spits! 
68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? Ha. I'm not a T Swift fan 
69. Ever take dance lessons? Um, does high school gym class count? 
70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? Something creative. 
71. Can you curl your tongue? Yes 
72. Ever won a spelling bee? I've never participated in one! 
73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Hm. Almost. 
74. What is your favorite book? I'm a sucker for anything by Bukowski, even though he wasn't a very swell human 
75. Do you study better with or without music? With 
76. Regularly burn incense? No! Although incense would be nice. 
77. Ever been in love? Yeah. It'll be the death of me. 
78. Who would you like to see in concert? Hm. I've been lucky enough to see some of my favs already! Looking forward to Chad Vangaalen in January, then possibly Bahamas in March. 
79. What was the last concert you saw? If local shows count, my pals band Yvette 
80. Hot tea or cold tea? Hot hot 
81. Tea or coffee? Coffee forever 
82. Favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chunk dipped in milk 
83. Can you swim well? No, I took lessons when I was a kid but haven't been in water much since my eyes got really bad. 
84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yes. 
85. Are you patient? APPARENTLY. 
86. DJ or band, at a wedding? Band! 
87. Ever won a contest? My dad and I (really it was just my dad, but I picked the ticket) won second place in a dream home lottery when I was a kid, which gave us a Canyon Truck. We never won anything so it was pretty shocking. 
88. Ever have plastic surgery? No 
89. Which are better black or green olives? Neither. 
90. Opinions on sex before marriage? Not a fan of marriage. Be safe and consensual with whatever sec you engage in! 
91. Best room for a fireplace? Uhm. Living room? 
92. Do you want to get married? Soooo doubtful