#superman confesses he's spiderman

[residentrookie]

jegulus dads ‘i frew up 🧍’ microfic— 1313 words; sorry guys i was brain rotting too hard about this one (cw: mentions of throwing up)

in all his 27 years, regulus has never been a deep sleeper. so when the door to the bedroom creaks open at 3 in the morning, his eyes open with it. the room is still pitch black, and he wonders groggily if boots (their cat) pawed it open when a tiny, weak voice whimpers, “daddy?”

regulus is launching up in bed and turning towards the voice of his five year old son before thinking twice.

“what, baby? what is it?”

at his sudden movement, james shoots up in bed next to him. “—whatisit. haz?” he mumbles, flicking on a lamp and dousing the room in light.

there stands harry in his spiderman jams, hair an absolute bird’s nest and tears streaming from his big green eyes and down his sweet cheeks. regulus’ eyes water instinctively just looking at him. before having kids, regulus never knew what it was to empathize so automatically with someone else— but he felt harry’s emotions right along with him, the joy, the sorrow, and the pain too.

“i—“ harry starts, then sucks in a big stuttering breath, clearly trying to be a brave boy and not cry, “i-i threw u-up.”

at the admission he wails, like he’s just confessed to the most abhorrent sin and will now have to face the wrath of his two loving fathers, who are so light on punishments they sometimes worry harry will end up being the most spoiled brat alive. james and regulus share a quick look, what regulus would consider the “dad” look, before throwing back the covers and rising quickly.

surprisingly, they’ve planned for this. years ago. when they first started dating. james had asked regulus about this very scenario, and after minutes of regulus whining about never wanting children in the first place—so why does it even matter, james— he’d made his position clear.

“i don’t do vomit.” regulus told him firmly. “absolutely not.”

james had laughed. “fine by me. if you only knew how much of my friends vomit i’ve had to clean up over the years. i don’t even blink at it anymore.”

thus the responsibilities of this hypothetical situation were assigned. james was on vomit duty. regulus was on comfort duty.

“not sure i’ll be any good at that either,” regulus had said grudgingly, but james had just smiled knowingly, able to see a future that regulus couldn’t yet imagine.

james makes it to harry first and scoops him up promptly, letting him bury his face in his neck and sob. regulus comes up behind them and snuggles up to harry, kissing his small head and whispering reassurances.

“shhhh don’t cry, it’s okay, haz. does your tummy hurt?” james asks calmly, rocking them all back and forth soothingly.

regulus pulls back and watches harry nod. his cheek is rosy and hot when regulus puts his hand to it.

“come on, baby, let’s go take care of it okay?” regulus tells him, and james deposits their still-sniffling son into his husbands open arms.

“you know what time it is?” james asks, wiggling his brows. harry just sniffs and shakes his head. “time to be superdad,” james tells him, pointing at his faded superman t-shirt. then he gives an animated salute, puts one fist on his hip and the other high in the sky before jetting out of the room with some impressive ‘flying sounds’ that manage to make harry smile a little before he remembers that he’s actually very upset right now. regulus shakes his head at his wonderfully ridiculous spouse and starts towards the stairs, feeling harry’s hot tears gather in the crook of his neck.

after giving harry some medicine, they settle on the couch downstairs, harry in regulus lap and clinging to him. regulus rocks them for a few minutes, letting harry’s breaths slow as he calms down.

“papa?” harry sniffles suddenly, his voice so small.

“yes, sweetheart?” regulus asks, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“we need to have a funeral. like how we did for bobbi.”

regulus blinks. bobbi, harry’s goldfish, had died three days after james brought him home, leaving the two of them to explain the complicated matter of death to their three and a half year old. so harry had a vague idea of the concept and of funerals, though his only exposure has been the meager ceremony they’d patched together and held in their garden. sirius had given a speech and peter had cried.

“what? why?” regulus demands, scanning his son’s face. his bottom lip pokes out as his eyes fill with tears yet again.

“b-because i think i killed hippo,” he wails. “i-i threw up all over him— a-and ron said that throw up is like— like how supervillains spit out the acid and k-kill the good guys—“

regulus closes his eyes briefly, exhaling in relief. he makes a mental note to tell james to cool it on the superhero movies for a while— clearly it’s getting into harry’s head.

“no baby, hippo is fine. he just needs to go for a swim in the wash, and then he’ll come out as good as new.”

harry peels his head back from regulus’ chest, blinking up at home hopefully. “really?”

“really. i bet daddy has already put him in. shall we go check on him just to be sure?”

“yes, please,” harry says, politely. oddly, it makes regulus think of his mother, of how she had demanded her boys to be polite above all else, even in the face of abuse and neglect. james and regulus had done absolutely everything differently, and harry still turned out to be the sweetest boy on the planet. walburga can fucking suck it.

pushing aside the thoughts of his mother, regulus rises with harry still perched on his hip. they walk back upstairs, peeking their heads into the laundry room to find james, metaphorical sleeves rolled up as he hums to himself, rummaging through their linens. regulus truly married the only person in the world who can sing while cleaning up vomit at 3 in the morning.

james turns and smiles at them in the doorway. “my boys!” he says cheerfully, crossing the room to give harry a smooch on the head.

“he’s worried about hippo, darling,” regulus explains. “can you show him how he’s just gone for a dip in the wash?”

“who, hippo?” james asks. “oh he’s great. you know what he told me haz?” he leans forward as if confiding a secret, “he told me he’s been wanting a bubble bath for sooo long and he’s sooo happy he finally got the chance. he even said to tell you thank you!”

harry giggles. “no he didn’t. he doesn’t talk.”

james gasps. “well he certainly talks to me, harry. we’re the best of friends.”

“i thought papa was your best friend,” harry says and james’ face melts into the gentlest smile.

“that’s true, too. it’s a tie between hippo and papa.”

regulus rolls his eyes as harry laughs. they go over and stand in front of the washer. the top is clear, so harry can see all his stuffies (including hippo) swirl around in the sudsy water. after several moments of watching them spin, james nudges regulus, inclining his head towards harry.

regulus looks down to see their baby’s eyes closed, head heavy, cheek squished against his chest.

“his bed has fresh sheets,” james whispers but regulus isn’t quite ready to let him go. he looks up at james with a pleading face.

james, try as he might, has never excelled at being the hardass parent. so when regulus takes their son back into their bedroom, depositing him under the covers between the two of them, james just smiles and shakes his head. they climb into bed and turn towards harry, two parenthesis enclosing the small shape of their son, cradling him and keeping him safe.

regulus sleeps long and deep, one hand laced with his husband’s, the other resting on his son’s dark head.

#i scribbled this like a madman in my notes app so apologies for the lowercase #i just love everything about them #they would be SUCH GOOD PARENTS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND #jegulus dads #jegulus #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #harry potter #oneshot

[backtothestart02]

Hazy - 9/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Enjoy!

Commissioned by @andie1223

... 

Chapter 9 -

Barry had managed to pull off the grand lie that he didn’t remember anything to Joe when he came in the room, but he didn’t know if he could do that repeatedly, and he knew he’d have to if he stayed at his own place after leaving presumably the next day. He could only guess that his powers were gone, since he’d been in the hospital overnight instead of just a few hours, and he didn’t know how long it would take for the severity of his injuries to recede. It’d been so long since he was…well, human.

“I know that look,” Linda said when she re-entered the room sometime later.

Barry quickly smoothed over his face and looked up at her.

“What look? And also, how? You haven’t known me long enough to know my looks.”

“Psh. I’m a reporter, which means I’m observant. I’ve been paying a lot of attention to you in the short time we’ve known each other. Trust me.”

He watched her suspiciously as she sat down on the chair beside his bed again.

“You’ll stay with me.”

He gawked. “Excuse me?”

“It’s obvious you’re terrible at keeping secrets.”

“I kept from Iris that I was in love with her until her wedding reception.” He paused. “I think.”

He couldn’t remember now. Did he confess his feelings before then in this timeline? Suddenly it was all very foggy.

“That’s different.” Linda brushed it aside. “That was a secret you wanted to keep. This one you don’t. And I’m the only one that knows. It just makes sense.”

“Linda, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not going to be fully healed by tomorrow. You’re going to have to…wait on me and stuff.”

She raised her eyebrows, amused.

“Nothing I can’t handle. Besides, how are you going to handle yourself if you just go home? Answer, you won’t. Joe will have to come over and then your little secret will probably come out.”

“You don’t know tha-”

“You’ll be at your weakest moment, and without me to interrupt a possible moment of secret spillage, well…”

He waited.

“It would be a disaster!”

“I don’t know how I’ll be on a couch, Linda…I’m still kind of fragile.”

She waved that off.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I have a guest bedroom. You can stay in there. And I’m a very clean person too, so you don’t have to worry about tripping over anything.”

His brows furrowed.

“Why would I worry about that?”

She leaned in, an all-knowing look on her face.

“Are you a clean person?”

He managed to blush.

“Yeah, exactly.” She returned to her former position. “If I leave you to your own devices, you’d probably re-injure yourself. And even worse!”

“Okay, okay, fine, I’ll stay with you.”

“Good.” She smiled smugly.

“But we’ll have to stop at my place first, so I can get clothes and stuff.”

“No problem.”

“Have you talked to Scott yet? About…your employment?”

She winced. “I haven’t heard from him, but I’m very good at groveling, so I’ll be sure to do that first thing tomorrow morning.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Worst case is…he suspends me, which I wouldn’t be a fan of but it would give me more time to wait on you, so that should excite you.”

Barry’s brows furrowed.

“You’re not afraid he’ll fire you?”

She snorted. “Uh, no. I’m too good of a reporter. He needs me. Plus, it’d be kind of a dick move, don’t you think? He escorts me home, only to fire me on my next workday?”

Barry attempted to shrug, but it hurt, and he winced.

“Use your words, Allen.”

His lips thinned. “I guess.”

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but you’re in a much worse state than I am. Maybe let me take care of you and not the other way around?”

“I said I’d stay with you, didn’t I?”

“Reluctantly,” she reminded him.

He frowned. “I still said it.”

Linda studied him for a few seconds longer before letting up.

“Alright, well, I guess I should go.” She started to get up.

“Wait, why?”

She hefted her purse onto her shoulder.

“To let you get some sleep? I’ll be back in the morning to get you settled at my apartment, no worries. Unless…you’re not afraid someone will come in and pummel you here? You don’t think Eddie…” She let the question hang.

Well, he hadn’t been until now.

“No, of course not,” he said, sounding as convincing as he could. “Go ahead home, Linda. It’s late.”

“It’s early is what you mean.”

He had no concept of time anymore, so his brows furrowed and asked the question for him.

“It’s early Sunday morning. You were out for hours when they brought you in last night.”

That stunned him, even if he did recall vaguely hearing about that.

“Oh,” he said, and that clearly worried her.

“Maybe I should stay…” She bit her bottom lip.

“No. No, Linda. Go home. Everyone else will probably go home, and if they don’t, I’ll insist they’re not in my room. Get some rest. Please. You’ll be dealing with me enough in the coming days.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“So sure,” he assured her.

She pursed her lips.

“I’ll be fine. The monitors will go off if someone starts punching me again. Then the nurses will come running and soon after, the doctor. You have nothing to worry about.”

She eyed him carefully, but it was clear she’d started to agree with him.

“Alright.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. “I’ll be back in the…later morning. Get some sleep.”

“You too.”

With one last pained smile, she finally turned away and exited the room. Then he was alone. No one else came in until a nurse some 20 minutes later. That nurse asked if he needed anything, and when he didn’t, she shut off the lights and said she’d check on him later.

That seemed fine to him.

He lay his head back on the pillow and did his best to fall asleep. Unfortunately, he dreamed.

At least he thought he did.

“Flash,” a dark, rumbly voice sounded beside him.

His eyes flung open. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There in his yellow speedster suit stood the Reverse Flash himself. He was vibrating at full speed.

“Missing your powers, are you?” He darkly chuckled.

Barry’s brows furrowed. He had a million questions, but his voice was stuck in his throat and he couldn’t get them out.

“If you think this is bad, it’s only the beginning.”

Then a crackle a lightning filled the room and the man in yellow was gone.

Barry’s eyes flung open again, and he was gasping for air. He couldn’t breathe.

Fumbling around with his free hand, he hit the red nurse’s button. The monitors must’ve been beeping really loud, because three nurses came in at once and quickly got him on oxygen. They stuck a needle in him too – something to calm him he guessed.

He blacked out. He didn’t dream this time. No hallucinations or visits from evil speedsters.

He was just out. For hours.

The steady beeping coming from the monitors woke him once. That and the light coming through the large window that the nurses must’ve forgotten to draw the shades over. Glancing at the clock across the room, he saw it was still early, 5 a.m., but he was okay now. He could breathe.

He was okay.

…

He didn’t tell Linda about the dream when she came to pick him up a few hours later, but he did reluctantly tell her about the whole not being able to breathe thing. He shouldn’t have, because it made her feel guilty for leaving. He was quick to reassure her though, and soon enough all the necessary paperwork was filled out, and he was allowed to go home with her.

They stopped at his apartment, which he only remembered because he had his phone on him and apparently at one point he’d put in his address along with the general contact information for himself.

Weird, but helpful in this particular instance.

It took some time to get all packed up, but Linda was good at that too, and she was fast on her feet.

“I’m glad I agreed to stay with you,” he finally said when they walked into her apartment about an hour later.

She turned to look at him and smiled.

“Me too.”

Things moved quickly after that. Linda showed him to the guest bedroom, which had a TV in it and some comic books on the bedside table. Superman, Spiderman, Iron Man, etc.

“Some light reading in case you get bored and the TV doesn’t entertain you enough,” she said when she caught him staring.

“Did you…have these or-?”

“Let’s say I did,” she said with a wink, and he knew that she’d gone out and bought some for his sake solely.

He chuckled and shook his head but got in the bed anyway, kicking off his shoes just before he did.

“Comfortable?” she asked, coming in moment later with a tray of breakfast food.

“I-” His jaw dropped. “Yes, thank you.”

He started to try sitting up and found he was in pain again.

“Ah-ah-ah, here you go.”

She set some pain meds on the bedside table and pulled a remote up from behind the bed.

“This bed is one of those adjustable ones. It’s like a hospital bed that way except way more comfortable. So you can lay all the way down and only have to press a button to sit yourself back up.”

“Wow, this is…this is really nice. Thank you, Linda.”

She smiled serenely.

“Any time, Barry Allen.” She picked up the tray that she’d set on the edge of the bed and laid it on his lap. “Now, be careful so nothing spills. I wouldn’t want to have to strip you of that warm comforter to clean it with you laying there.”

He shook his head and smiled.

“You really are a neat freak.”

She actually laughed at that.

“And proud of it. You’re welcome.”

He took a bit of the eggs on his plate.

“Mm, and a really good cook too.”

She rolled her eyes at that.

“It’s eggs and toast, Barry. This is no gourmet meal.”

“Still, you could’ve burned it,” he said, and then wished he could’ve taken it back.

He managed not to frown in front of her though, which was a win because then she’d ask why and he’d have to explain something other than in another life Iris was his fiancée and she couldn’t cook to save her life, but he’d take her burnt toast instead of Linda’s excellent cooking if it meant he could have Iris back in his arms again.

Unfortunately for him, he stayed silent too long even without the change in facial expression.

“What?”

He shook his head and hoped she wouldn’t push.

“Nothing.”

“Right, well, I should get dressed and get to work. I’ll check on you at lunchtime – or sooner if I’m suspended. Just text me if you need me.”

“Will do. Thank you, again.”

“Any time.”

She smiled brilliantly and left the room. He heard the shower run on the other side of the apartment and heard her move around the kitchen in her heels. Then some time after that, he heard the door open, close, and lock and knew she had gone.

He set the trap on the other side of the bed after he’d finished eating and used the remote to lay back down again. He wanted to get some decent sleep that didn’t involve being attached to tubes and cords in a hospital bed. This was a really nice set-up Linda had made for him here, and he planned on taking advantage of every part of it.

He slept for a few hours and then was unexpectedly roused by the sound of soft knocking on the main door to the apartment. He frowned, unsure if he’d heard it or not. Then a familiar voice sounded on the other side of the door and awoke Barry fully immediately.

“Barry? Barry, are you in there?”

Given how at odds they were at the moment, he had planned to ignore Iris should she try to talk to him again about Eddie. That was the last thing he needed, and besides, he was in pain. He shouldn’t have to get up when he was feeling like this.

How she’d even figured out he was staying here was beyond him too. Unless Linda had told her. But why would she when she’d invited him so he wouldn’t be bombarded by Joe.

And then suddenly he knew why.

“Barry?” She sniffled.

He tensed up and immediately went into protective best friend mode. She was crying.

Gingerly he got out of the bed as smoothly as he could, wincing as he went, but he made it. Down the hall he went, and peeking into the peep hole before opening to make sure she was still there, which she was, he opened it and stared at all the crestfallen beauty before him.

“Iris, what are you doing here?”

She swallowed hard.

“Linda told me you were here. I begged her to. I knew she knew and-”

“Iris-”

She huffed out some air and dabbed at her damp cheeks.

“Can I come in?”

He stepped to the side to let her in and shut the door behind her.

“Wow, this place is clean,” she commented, briefly thwarted from telling the reason of her visit.

“Iris,” he redirected her.

She spun around to face him.

“Oh, Barry, I’m so…so sorry. I…” She shook her head. “There will never be enough words to apologize for what I was asking of you when you were injured. I mean, you still are injured. And to put him first,” she scoffed at herself. “I know he’s my husband, but-”

“Iris.”

He reached forward with one hand and gripped one of her shoulders. It seemed to calm her somewhat. She caught his gaze.

“He did it, Barry.”

His brows furrowed. “I…don’t understand. Who did what?”

She swallowed again.

“Eddie. He went back after you had blacked out and…” Her bottom lip quivered. “He’s the reason you were in the hospital.”

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #hazy #chapter 9 #fic comissions

[theliterateape]

I Like to Watch | Zack Snyder’s Justice League

by Don Hall

Mythology is fun.

As a kid I loved reading Edith Hamilton’s book on the Greek gods and the myths. Hercules, Perseus, Apollo, and Hera—this fell completely in line with my love for superhero comics. The strangely petty human traits of envy, greed, and lust combined with the power to level cities make for some great storytelling.

Zeus was basically Harvey Weinstein in the retroactive revision we’re mired in today. If Harvey could’ve changed into a golden animal and boned unsuspecting ladies looking for careers in Hollywood I’m pretty certain he would. The gods and demi-gods of the Greeks dealt with daddy issues, mommy issues, bad relationships, and fighting. Lots of fighting. Sometimes for the good of humanity but more often for the glory of winning.

Zach Snyder is in the business of tackling myths and reframing them with a style all his own. His career has become its own myth.

From Dawn of the Dead (not so much a reboot of Romero's zombie mythology but a philosophical reimagining of the genre that arguably jumpstarted The Hollywood fascination with it), 300 (a borderline homoerotic take on the myth of the Greek underdog), and Watchmen (a ridiculously ambitious attempt to put one of the most iconic takedowns on the potential fascism of the superhero legend machine ever written) to his nearly single-handed hack at answering the Marvel juggernaut with Man of Steel and Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice, Snyder is in the artistic business of subverting and re-envisioning the mythologies we embrace without even seeing them as such.

Snyder's style is operatic. It is on a grand scale even in the most mundane moments. The guy loves slow motion like Scorcese loves mobsters and Italian food. When you're tackling big themes with larger than life stories, the epic nature of his vision makes sense and has alienated a good number of audience members. With such excess, there are bound to be missteps but I'd argue that his massive take on these characters he molds from common understanding and popular nomenclature elevates them to god-like stature.

Fans of Moore's Watchmen have much to complain about Snyder's adaptation. The titular graphic novel is almost impossible to put in any other form than the one Moore intended and yet, Snyder jumped in feet-first and created a living, breathing representation of most, if not all, of the source material's intent. Whether you dig on it or not, it's hard to avoid acknowledging that the first five minutes of Watchmen is a mini-masterpiece of style, storytelling, and epic tragedy wrapped up in a music video.

Despite a host of critical backlash for his one fully original take, Sucker Punch is an amazing thing to see. More a commentary on video game enthusiasm with its lust for hot animated chicks and over-the-top violence that a celebration of cleavage and guns, the film is crazily entertaining. For those who hated the ending, he told you in the title what his plan was all along.

The first movie I saw in the theaters that tried to take a superhero mythology and treat it seriously (for the most part) was Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie. Never as big a fan of the DC characters as I have been of Marvel, it was still extraordinary to see a character I had only really known in pages to be so fully realized. Then came Burton's Batman movies. The superhero film was still an anomaly but steam was gaining. Things changed with Bryan Singer's X-Men in 2000, then Raimi's Spiderman, and those of us who grew up with our pulpy versions of Athena, Hermes, and Hades were rewarded with Nolan's Batman Begins. A far cry from the tongue-in-cheek camp of the 1966 TV Batman, Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne was a serious character and his tale over three films is a tragic commentary filled with the kind of death and betrayal and triumph befitting the grand narrative he deserved.

I loved Singer's Superman Returns in 2006 because it was such a love letter to the 1978 film (down to the opening credits) but by then, the MCU was taking over the world.

Snyder's first of what turns out to be an epic storyline involving perhaps seven or eight movies was Man of Steel. It was fun and, while I had my issues with the broodiness of Kal El, the odd take on Jonathan Kent, and a redheaded Lois Lane, I had no issue with Superman snapping Zod's neck. Darker and more tragic than any other version of the Kryptonian, it was still super entertaining.

Then came Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. By 2016, Marvel had codified their formula of serious characters wrestling with serious issues of power and responsibility peppered with lots of good humor and bright colors. Snyder's desaturated pallete and angst-filled demi-gods was not the obvious road to financial competition.

I'll confess, I hated it. BvS felt half-rendered. Lex Luthor was kind of superficial and played as a kind of Joker. The whole Bruce Wayne wants to kill Superman thing felt undeveloped and the "Martha" moment was just stupid.

When Joss Whedon's version of Snyder's Justice League came out in 2017, I was primed for it to be a turd and I wasn't surprised. So much of it didn't work on any level. I dismissed it as DC trying and failing miserably and was comforted by the coming of Thanos.

Following Thanos and the time heist was COVID. Suddenly, we were internationally sidelined and the movie theater industry caved in. Streaming services started popping up like knock-off smartphones and Hollywood was reeling, doing anything and everything to find a way back. Since Whedon's disastrous helming of Snyder's third act, fans online had been demanding to #ReleasetheSnyderCut but no one was ever really taking them seriously until all movie production was shut down for a year.

The stage was set to remedy a mistake (or at least make some bucks on a do-over of a huge box office failure). Snyder had left the production in part because of the suicide of his daughter and in part due to the constant artistic fights over executives looking for the quippy fun of the MCU but he still had all the original footage. Add to that the broiling accusations that Joss Whedon was "abusive" during the reshoots, the path seemed destined. For an additional $70 million and complete control, Snyder delivered a four hour mega-movie streamed on HBOMax.

Of course, I was going to watch the thing as soon as I could.

The Whedon version opens with an homage to the now dead Superman (including the much maligned digitally erased mustache on Henry Cavill). The SynderCut opens with the death of Superman and the agony of his death scream as it travels across the planet. It's a simple change but exemplifies the very different visions of how this thing is gonna play out.

Snyder doesn't want us to be OK with the power of these beings unleashed. He wants us to feel the damage and pain of death. He wants the results of violence to be as real as he can. When Marvel's Steve Rogers kicks a thug across the room and the thug hits a wall, he crumples and it is effectively over. When Batman does the same thing, we see the broken bones (often in slow motion) and the blood smear on the wall as the thug slides to the ground.

The longer SnyderCut is bloated in some places (like the extended Celtic choir singing Aquaman off to sea or the extended narrations by Wonder Woman which sound slightly like someone trying to explain the plot to Siri). On the other hand, the scene with Barry Allen saving Iris West is both endearing and extraordinary, giving insight to the power of the Flash as well as some essential character-building in contrast to Whedon's comic foil version.

One thing I noticed in this variant is that Zach wants the audience to experience the sequence of every moment as the characters do. An example comes when Diana Prince goes to the crypt to see the very plot she belabors over later. The sequence is simple. She gets a torch and goes down. Most directors which jump cut to the torch. Snyder gives us five beats as she grabs the timber, wraps cloth around the end, soaks it with kerosene, pulls out a box of matches, and lights the torch. Then she goes down the dark passageway.

The gigantic, lush diversity of Snyder’s vision of the DC superhero universe—from the long shots of the sea life in the world of Atlantis to the ancient structures and equipment of Themyscira— is almost painterly. Snyder isn't taking our time; he's taking his time. We are rewarded our patience with a far better backstory for the villain, a beautifully rendered historic battle thwarting Darkseid's initial invasion (including a fucking Green Lantern), and answers to a score of questions set up in both previous films.

Whedon's Bruce Wayne was more Ben Affleck; Snyder's is full-on Frank Miller Batman, the smartest, most brutal fucker in the room. Cyborg, instead of Whedon's sidelined non-character, is now a Frankenstein's monster, grappling with the trade-off between acceptance and enormous power. Wonder Woman is now more in line with the Patty Jenkins version and instead of being told about the loss of Superman, we are forced to live with the anguish of both his mother and Lois Lane in quiet moments of incredible grief.

To be fair to Whedon (something few are willing to do as he is now being castigated not for racism or sexism but for being mean to people) having him come in to throw in some levity and Marvel-esque color to Snyder's Wagnerian pomposity is like hiring Huey Lewis to lighten up Pink Floyd's The Wall or getting Douglas Adams to rewrite Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

I loved Snyder's self-indulgent, mythologic DC universe.

So much so that I then re-watched Man of Steel and then watched the director's version of BvS (which Snyder added approximately 32 minutes). The second film is far better at three hours and Eisenberg's Lex Luthor now makes sense. Then I watched Zach Snyder's Justice League a second time.

After nineteen hours of Snyder's re-imagining of these DC heroes and villains, I saw details that, upon first viewing, are ignored or dismissed, but after seeing them in order and complete, are suddenly consistent and relevant. Like Nolan or Fincher, Snyder defies anyone to eliminate even one piece of his narrative no matter how long. With all the pieces, this is an epic story and the pieces left at the extended epilogue play into a grander narrative we will never see.

Or maybe we will. Who knows these days?

#I Like to Watch #Zach Snyder's Justice League

[revlyncox]

Superhero Values (2021)

Whether we have great powers or simply great responsibilities, we return to our values to guide our actions. This talk was revised and expanded for the Washington Ethical Society, February 21, 2021. 

Earlier, you gave some advice to “Human Person” (a fictional superhero who “visited” earlier in the Platform) about compassion, understanding, and commitment, which are easier words to say than to practice. It helps to have role models, even if their stories didn’t happen exactly in the way they are told. It seems to me that mythology, fiction, and maybe even history can supply us with examples of values we can agree on. Stories that have captured our imaginations in the past may remind us of the people we hope to become.

When I was a kid, Batman was the lead character in some of those stories. He showed up in comic books and Pez dispensers, but the most influential form of Batman from my childhood was the Adam West character on television. When I was six or seven years old, the other kids who went to my babysitter and I used to run around the yard chasing super villains, pretending the basement steps were the Bat Cave, and generally doing our part for the good of Gotham City. We all traded roles as the heroes, heroines, and the various arch-nemeses.

I learned a couple of things from the Bat-team. I learned that superheroes have origin stories, events that changed the direction of their lives. You might not be able to tell from looking at them, especially in their secret identities, but every superhero has a past. The Bat-team also taught me that superheroes struggle with power. Whether the super skills come from hard work, cool gadgets, or another planet, heroes have to figure out the most effective and responsible way to use those skills. Finally, I learned that superheroes form coalitions. Batman and Robin and Batgirl worked together, not to mention Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara. Even an independent vigilante needs other people for the toughest problems.

Come to think of it, those same things are true for all of us. Each of us has to decide how to respond to the past. Individually and as a group, we are faced with questions of power and responsibility. Teaming up with other people is a source of strength, in spite of and perhaps because of our differences. I think these characteristics of superheroes call attention to WES’s future as a community.

Heroes Have Origins

First, superheroes have origin stories. Some event from the past sparked the character’s discovery of talents and passions, leading to a new sense of identity and purpose. Those events might be associated with death or separation from a loved one, or with the loss of the character’s pre-heroic dreams.

Superman’s powers come from his extra-planetary birth, but his ideas about truth, justice, and the American way come from Martha and Jonathan Kent. There is some speculation that Superman’s creators (Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster) modeled him after Moses, a baby whose people faced destruction, and was carried in a small vessel to a land where his birth identity had to be concealed.

There is a category of stories in which the characters have qualities that were typical in their place of origin, but something called them to help people in a world similar to our own, where their profound difference turned out to be a gift. Wonder Woman, Black Panther, AquaMan, and Valkyrie fall into this category.

On the other hand, some superheroes start off with an event of pain or trauma, like Peter Parker’s radioactive spider bite to become Spiderman. Batman’s path is a response to trauma. In the Watchmen mini-series on HBO, one of the characters’ commitment to justice came from being a survivor of the 1921 white supremacist attack on Tulsa, Oklahoma. Ms. Marvel’s Kamala Khan is mainly in this category, having gained her powers during an unusual event.

Whatever the story, most extra-human comic book characters have faced a life-changing event that seems to isolate them from important people in their lives. Often, the character will acquire or discover or place new value on a gift or a talent they have during that experience. Picking up these pieces of loss, loneliness, and strength, the character eventually forges a new sense of purpose.

Michael Servetus (Miguel Serveto) is someone from history whose story follows this pattern a bit. He wasn’t always brave, and he wasn’t known for being kind, but he did set himself apart and commit his life to the truth as he saw it. I wouldn’t necessarily call him a Humanist, but he was a free thinker in that he defied the orthodoxy of his time, and his sacrifices made it possible for the people who came after him to do even more questioning of creeds, dogmas, and oppressive religious organizations.

When Servetus read the Bible for himself for the first time as a young student in the 1520s, he was shocked to discover no evidence for the doctrine of the Trinity. In 1531, he published a tract, De Trinitatis Erroribus (On the Errors of the Trinity), seemingly convinced that people would see it his way if only they would listen. That’s not what happened. He was run out of town, his books were confiscated, and the Supreme Council of the Inquisition started looking for him.

This is where the secret identity comes in. Servetus fled to Paris and assumed the name of Michel de Villeneuve. He had a varied career as de Villeneuve, first as an editor and publisher, then as a doctor. He worked on a seven-volume edition of the Bible, adding insightful footnotes. He was the first European to publish about the link between the pulmonary and respiratory systems.

During his time as the personal physician for the Archbishop of Vienne, he secretly worked on his next theological treatise, Christianismi Restitutio (The Restoration of Christianity). He also struck up a correspondence with his old classmate, John Calvin. Servetus was not diplomatic in his criticisms of Calvin’s writing, and Calvin broke off correspondence. Servetus seemed to think that their exchange was illuminating, because he included copies of the letters when he sent an advance copy of the Restitutio to Geneva.  

The publication of the Restitutio in 1553 marked the end of Servetus’ secret identity. Both Protestant and Catholic authorities pursued him as a dangerous heretic. He was burned at the stake on October 27, 1553, by the order of The Council of Geneva. Reportedly, he maintained his beliefs until the end, shouting heretical prayers from the flames. The Catholic Inquisition in France burned Servetus in effigy a few months later. There were a lot of people who didn’t want his ideas to be heard. Luckily for us, a few copies of his books were preserved, and went on to generate new ideas among religious reformers for over 450 years.

Now, I’m not saying Michael Servetus was a superhero. It might be hard to identify with him in some ways. Though he had ideas that were called Unitarian at the time, Unitarian Universalists oday would disagree with most of what he wrote, as would most Ethical Culturists. His creeds don’t match most of our beliefs; though some of his deeds, such as challenging authority and being a medical provider, might resonate. Nevertheless, we can see how a turning point in someone’s life can bring isolation, energy, purpose, abilities, and vulnerabilities, all at the same time. His origins were more like Spiderman than Superman: Being in the right place at the right time, Servetus was bitten by the free thinking bug. He had to adopt an alter ego, but the bug also afforded him the drive and the insight to make great contributions to scholarship and religious freedom.

How often is it the same for those of us who are regular folks? The events that make us who we are may bring a sense of loss or loneliness. These same events may bring a chance for us to develop new talents, or personal connection to the work we aspire to do. Passion and vulnerability can come from a single point in time.

The thing that sets a superhero origin story apart from a villain origin story is how the character translates their past into a future of meaning and purpose. Most of us are not consistently villains or heroes; we have to choose in every moment how to draw from our past to make choices in the present. We can’t control the historical facts of our origin stories. Even if our own choices led to the turning points in our lives, they are in the past now. What we can do is bring our values to the way we understand those turning points, and to our decisions about what to do with the gifts we have now. Let’s do our best to choose to use our origins well.

Heroes Form Coalitions

The very first appearance of Spiderman (in Amazing Fantasy #15 in 1962) saw the teenage Peter Parker misusing his new powers, only to have his negligence contribute to the death of his Uncle Ben, one of his adoptive parents. Peter’s understanding of Ben’s teaching that “With great power there must also come—great responsibility!” shaped his character from then on. The spider counterparts from other universes, heroes like Gwen Stacy and Miles Morales, also have turning points on that theme.

Superhero characters struggling with power and responsibility would have benefitted from reading about James Luther Adams, who was a professor at Harvard during the 1950s and 1960s. Adams had a great deal to say about power and what that meant for the responsibilities of movements for liberation.

Between 1927 and the late 1930s, Adams made several trips to Germany, a country that was renowned for philosophical scholarship. He spoke with religious and academic leaders, was detained for questioning by the Gestapo, and developed a sense of urgency about the political, cultural, moral, and spiritual crisis that went along with the rise of the Nazi party. While Adams developed great respect for the anti-Nazi Confessing Church movement, he noticed that Germany’s churches as a whole were not pushing back against the crisis.

Adams said that individual and organized philosophy should be “examined.” There must be a path for critique, self-correction, and development. Adams wrote, “the achievement of freedom in community requires the power of organization and the organization of power.”

In that same period when Adams was noticing trends of power, organization, and responsibility in Germany, Humanists in the United States were also teaming up. The roots of some of these relationships went back to the Free Religious Association, which was the group where Felix Adler hung around with Ralph Waldo Emerson and the other Transcendentalists. The FRA led to another trend called the “Ethical Basis” group within Unitarianism.

I’m drawing here from The Humanist Way: An Introduction to Ethical Humanist Religion, a book by former WES Senior Leader Ed Ericson. Ericson writes that, by the end of the nineteenth century, the Ethical Basis bloc had successfully advocated that inclusion as either a member or a clergy person in Unitarian congregations be purely on an ethical basis rather than having any doctrinal basis. Ericson continues:

They resisted all attempts to impose any theological requirement, however broadly such a test might be construed. Like Felix Adler’s Ethical Culture, the Ethical Basis Unitarians regarded the dedicated ethical life to be inherently religious without any necessary underpinning of theological belief. This concurrence of views resulted in a close working relationship between the leaders of the Ethical Societies of Chicago and St. Louis and their ministerial counterparts in the Western Unitarian Conference.

(Ericson, The Humanist Way, p. 46-47)

Ericson goes on to say that, while this cohort was concentrated in the midwest, Octavius Brooks Frothingham in New York also largely shared Adler’s philosophy. Ericson also points out that the Ethical Basis cohort provided “a seedbed where organized religious Humanism, under that name, would first put down roots in American soil,” making this development of interest to Ethical Humanism. So, already at the turn of the century, there is some superhero teaming up going on. It gets better!

In 1913, the Unitarian minister John H. Dietrich began using the term “Humanism” to identify his non-theistic philosophy of religion. Dietrich said that he first encountered the term as a religious designation in the text of a lecture delivered to the London Ethical Society (Ericson, p. 61). Ericson writes that “the Ethical Union in Britain had described their movement by the turn of the century.” Ethical Culture in the United States started identifying more closely as a unique expression within the broader Humanist movement a little later, not until after Adler’s death in 1933. At that point, they found a whole league’s worth of Humanists to team up with.

But back to Dietrich, who discovered that his colleague Curtis Reese in Chicago was writing about the same kind of philosophy. Having found each other, they attracted others to the growing Humanist movement. By 1927, they had connected with scientists, philosophers, and journalists, who collectively were turning out what Ericson describes as “a torrent of books, articles, sermons and lectures” (p. 67) that established Humanism as a significant force in American society. In 1933, thirty-four of these prominent figures signed on to The Humanist Manifesto.

Later groups wrote the Humanist Manifesto II of 1973 and the Humanist Manifesto III of 2003. The original 1933 document set a historic precedent, bringing together people from a variety of perspectives and settings. Unitarian and Universalist ministers were well represented, along with V.T. Thayer, Director of the Ethical Culture Schools of New York, plus A. Eustace Haydon and Lester Mondale, who later became Ethical leaders (Ericson, p. 70).

I would suggest that the Washington Ethical Society, by affiliating with both the Unitarian Universalist Association and the American Ethical Union, is living out the spirit of cooperation that has powered the Humanist movement in the United States from its inception. Ethical Humanism is a unique expression and tradition within the larger Humanist movement, and yet that larger movement remains important for understanding who we are and what we are here to do. We come to a deeper understanding of identity and mission when we team up.

In fiction, superheroes seem to gravitate to one another. From the X-Men to the Avengers to the Teen Titans, collections of lead characters become ensembles. They have very different abilities and outlooks. Teaming up isn’t always easy, and it can be risky. Household squabbles may become epic battles if super abilities get out of hand. However, when they combine their gifts in the same direction, they can tackle complex problems that none of them would be able to handle alone.

This is why we form coalitions, too. WES is a community of people who have many differences in your individual lives. Diversity in creed and unity in deed, WES members are able to learn together, make music together, serve the community, and witness for justice, without worrying too much about who is an atheist or an agnostic or a theist or a polytheist. Whether among members, or in coalition with our neighbors across religious or geographic lines, we are able to put differences aside as we work for the benefit of our shared community. It does happen, though, that human beings forget, or retreat into what we think is a bubble of sameness, or narrow our scope of what seems possible.

Let’s build on what is already going well as we resist the shrinking of our horizons. There may be partners in our community that we have yet to meet. There may be institutes for exceptional heroes, or halls of justice, that we have to overcome our internalized hurdles of classism and racism before we can join.

At the very least, we can ensure that we’re making the most of our super team here at WES. Like the superheroes, we can do more and support each other when we come together.

Conclusion

There is a lot that WES has in common with an assembly of superheroes. Each one of us has an origin story, a set of events that shaped our talents, passions, and vulnerabilities. Each one of us has the opportunity to shape that story into a life of meaning and purpose. Like superheroes, it is incumbent on us to come to terms with power. Our collective abilities and assets make us a force to be reckoned with, and it is up to us to do the moral discernment to make sure we’re doing a good job wielding that power. Our honesty with each other and practicing all of our shared values and commitments will help. Like the best superheroes, we form alliances. Within the WES community, we share our specialized powers and support one another to accomplish goals none of us could handle alone. In our coalitions with other groups, we build bridges that support compassion. May all that has been divided be made whole.

May it be so.

[calpalirwin]

Legends and Myths

Summary: The greatest superpower is just being real.

A/N: I’m slacking in my Mikey love.

Content: Normal shit yo. You know how I operate.

Word Count: 1.2k

And away, and away we go!

~~~

He had his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, green eyes glued to the pavement as he walked. He was suffocating and needed to go somewhere he could breathe; and he knew just the place.

The bell on the door clanged to announce his arrival into the shop and he could already feel the weight on his chest lifting. “Welcome to Legends and Myths,” a voice he didn’t recognize called out the greeting he did recognize, followed by the “Can I help you find anything today?”

He turned his head in the direction of the voice. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, dark waves framing a set of eyes so brown they were practically black. Her blue jeans that hugged her long legs tightly had strategic rips throughout the upper thighs and knees. Her polo shirt had the company logo emblazoned on the right side of her chest and on the left the crooked name tag read “Viviana”. Michael swallowed, the suffocating feeling back, but in the most welcoming of ways. “Sir?” she asked slowly, eyebrows pulling together.

Michael blinked and shook his head to clear it. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Um… is Carlos here?”

She nodded, “Si, Carlos is in the back. Do you need him?”

“Uh… no… well… I’m...” he faltered.

Her eyes lit up with sudden realization and his widened slightly. “You’re Mikey! Your order is here. Let me go get it for you.”

Michael breathed a sigh of relief, releasing the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t want her to recognize him from elsewhere. He didn’t want to find a new comic book store. Carlos had been a lifesaver in treating him as Mikey, not Michael Clifford.

“Vivi, estas bien?” Carlos asked, coming out of the office in the back.

“Si,” the woman nodded, moving gracefully towards the counter. “Mikey’s here.”

“Mikey!” the man said, striding over and clapping the blonde on the shoulder. “I see you’ve met Vivi. Vivi, get his order, por favor?”

“Si, Carlos,” she answered a playful lilt that suggested she had already been in that process before being asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Michael answered, rubbing at the stubble on his chin nervously.

“Don’t worry,” Carlos assured the other man.

“She knows or she doesn’t?” Michael asked in a whisper, green eyes inquisitive and scared of the answer.

“She knows,” Carlos admitted.

Michael let out a huff of air. “Great…”

“You worry too much, Mikey. I’m in the business of keeping alter egos a secret. You think I would employ people who can’t keep secrets?”

Michael offered a small smile of apology and shook his head. “Suppose you’re right. Sorry. Just…”

“Learning to walk after flying around as Superman?” Carlos supplied.

Michael chuckled, “Something like that.”

“Start by putting one foot in front of the other,” Viviana said, handing him a bag heavy with the weight of the comics inside. “And maybe remember the glasses next time, Clark,” she added with a playful smile.

Michael felt his cheeks turn pink as he chuckled again, taking the bag from her. “Thanks. Uh, Carlos, is it cool if I hang out a bit?” he asked.

“Reading room’s all yours,” Carlos said.

~~~

The reading room was less an actual reading room and more of a small break room with a reading nook tucked into a large window. But Carlos had been gracious enough to let Michael use it the first time he had flown in here, green eyes wild and seeking shelter.

He leaned his back against the wall as he positioned himself across the bench seat, drawing up his knees. He scanned the titles of the comics in his bag, paying special attention to the numbers before gripping the first in the sequence and setting the bag aside. He reached into the pocket of his hoodie for his glasses, giving them a quick swipe to clean them off before pushing them up on his nose.

With each expertly drawn scene and witty good versus evil banter, the Michael Clifford mask fell off and he was able to relax. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his life. He wouldn’t trade a single day spent on stage with his brothers while crowds of people screamed his name for anything. But he would never get used to the idolization that came with it. Even Spiderman needed a day to be Peter Parker.

He was about halfway through his second comic when the door creaked open, startling him. “Oh, sorry!” Viviana apologized, a meek look on her face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael assured her, making a mental note of where he was before closing the comic and stretching out his legs.

Viviana offered a small smile as she sat down in a chair at the table. “I see Clark Kent found his glasses?”

Michael let out a soft chuckle, his thumb pushing at the bridge of his glasses to keep them secured in place. “More of a Peter Parker guy, personally.”

“Kinda the same, no? Blue and red suit. Glasses.”

Michael’s chuckle got more pronounced. “I mean… on the surface sure. But there’s… nevermind.”

Her laugh rang out around them, “Dios mio, I was teasing, mi amor.”

Michael felt the nice suffocation feeling return at the term of endearment. He would gladly drown in her voice. “You know comics?”

She shook her head. “Not much, no. I still enjoy them all the same, though.”

“Well maybe I could teach you some time,” he offered.

“I have time now, mi amor,” she counter-offered.

~~~

“Who are you going to teach me about today, mi amor?” she asked, cupping her face in her hands as she leaned on her elbows.

“Batman and his fists,” he answered, holding the comic up in front of his face to hide the color that seeped into his cheeks. Two months later he still couldn’t stop the blush that spread throughout his face at the purred nickname or the suffocating feeling he got when he was around her.

“You ever going to teach me about Michael Clifford, mi amor? Or just fictional heroes?” she teased playfully.

“I’m no hero.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“Well, in my case it’s actually true. I’m nobody special. Not the way these guys are,” he said, gesturing out to the shop where all the real heroes lay inside colorful pages with their complex backstories and perfect endings.

“Mi amor, they’re not real. You are.”

“Doesn’t stop people from wanting the fairy tale.”

“Dios mio,” she scoffed. “People can keep their fairy tales. I’d rather have real.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his soft green eyes hopeful.

“Si. Por que no?”

“Most people get disappointed by reality. Doesn’t live up to the expectations they built up in their heads.”

“Are you one of those people? Disappointed?”

He gave a wry chuckle. “Nah. I’m usually the one doing the disappointing. They say not to meet your heroes for a reason. That reason is you’ll find out that we’re just as human as anyone else.”

“Being human does not make you a disappointment, mi amor. Being real is the greatest superpower there is.”

“Being real doesn’t gets the girl though,” he confessed sadly.

“Por que no?” she asked him, confused.

“Girls want the fairy tale. They want Superman to fly in and save the day.”

She reached out and grabbed his hands in hers. “I prefer Peter Parker, mi amor,” her smooth voice purred, and he knew that if he didn’t kiss her at that moment then he was definitely going to suffocate. So he did what heroes aren’t supposed to do: he kissed the girl.

~~~

Tag List

@goeatsomelife​ @flameraine​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @cxddlyash​ @1-irwin-94​ @baldcalum​ @sparkling-chaos​ @tea4sykes​ @youngblood199456​ @5-seconds-of-obsession​

#legends and myths #michael clifford #michael clifford fic #5sos #galcal irwin

[toutallyahoe]

Shirts

ＲＥＱＵＥＳＴＥＤ ＢＹ:

--

ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ/Ｓ:

Gavin Reed x [Name]

Ａ/Ｎ:

Shit.

I... I didn't actually realized that I wrote an angst chapter on the last one when I promised a certain bean to calm my angst boner...

HERE'S MY PEACE OFFERING BEANS

─────────────────

The [Hair color] haired let out a loud sigh as he he pinched the bridge of his nose. His [Eye color] eyes narrowing as he finally looked at the brunet in front of him who had a large grin. "Really Gavin?" The male had said as he saw the said male nodded his head. Another sigh left his lips again as he shakes his head, just awfully disappointed and done for the day. "Really Gavin? What are we, five???" He asked as the brunet rolled his grey eyes. "Oh come on, [Name]!" Gavin said as he gave the male a grin, in return, [Name] frowned at him. "Live a little! What harm could it fucking do?" This was stupid. Absolutely, fucking stupid.

"Gavin... You're my dearest and closest friend, you know that right?" [Name] had started as the other raised a brow but nodded. The [Hair color] haired male then continued, massaging his temple as he closed his eyes for a minute or so then opening them again. His face in a deadpanned expression. "And you fully know I whole heartedly support you and your dumbass antics but this?" [Name] gestured at the said male. "I have limits Gavin... This is fucking stupid." He bluntly stated as the brunet rolled his eyes again. "Bu--" Gavin started but was cut off by his friend's blunt answer. "No."

Despite already being turned down, the brunet persisted. "Come the fucking on [Name]! Please? For me? Your best friend?" Gavin had said as he looked at the other male and even took his hand and intertwined their fingers. "Gavin, n--" [Name] was cut off by the brunet who looked at him, silently begging. "Please?" Gavin said. The brunet male slowly grinned when he saw the [Hair color] haired let out a sigh then nodded his head, defeatedly. "Fine," the [Hair color] finally gaved in. "Fucking finally!" The brunet had shouted as he jumped let go of [Name] hands. "I'll go get the shirts!" Gavin shouted as he ran who knows where. [Name] only shake his head. How was this asshole is best friend anyways? Wait... Shirts?

"Fuck." The [Hair color] haired cursed out as he just realized what he signed up with. The male sat on a chair as a black haired female strolled in the break room to see [Name] looking blankly at a wall. Tina whistled as she walked towards the [Hair color] haired male and poked his cheek. "What's with you?" She asked as she saw [Name]'s [Eye color] eyes were devoid with emotion other than regret at the moment. "You look dead," she stated as she poked his cheek again until [Name] had grabbed her hand. "Gavin happened," the male replied as the black haired female oohed.

Her surprise didn't last long as she giggled and took her hand off the male's grasp, she then patted him on the back as she smiled at him. "That's what you get when you're with that asshole," Tina said and chuckled when she saw [Name] looked so done and let out a tired sigh. "Why... Why am I in love with that guy again...?" He asked as the female shrugged. "Beats me," the black haired female said as she patted his back one last time and walked away. Not before wishing the [Hair color] haired male a good luck. Leaving the male to alone and wait for the brunet male, silently regretting on agreeing on Gavin's request.

After awhile, the brunet finally came with two shirt in his hand. One black and the other blue as Gavin had thrown the blue shirt to [Name]. "Im back with the fucking shirts! Now, fucking change in them dumbass!" Gavin said as the [Hair color] haired looked at the shirt in his hand. "Really Gavin?" He asked as the said male gave him a glare, making him raise his arms in a mock surrender as he sighed. God, help this man.

"Do we really need to wear the shirts?" The [Hair color] haired male had asked as he looked at the new shirt he was wearing. "I mean..." He had to give Gavin points though, the brunet knows how to pick a shirt and it fitted to him quite nicely. The only problem he had was what was imprinted on his shirt as he looked at his friend who was proudly standing in front of him with the black shirt he had brought on him. "I... I feel flattered for you actually getting me something but..." [Name] trailed off as he looked at his shirt again. The words "Bad Cop" imprinted in red bold letters with a some small accents of he fully knows that the blue and red combination is either Superman or Spiderman.

Gavin was one to be interested in superheroes when he was young. Reasons why he was a homicide detective. The brunet wanted to help and contribute justice in the world. Looking back at the brunet, his concluded that the shirt he was wearing was Superman as Gavin's was black and have grey accents, giving away a superhero who only have those colors in their costume. Also, Gavin's shirt also had the words "Good Cop" in white bold letters. "And why am I the bad cop anyways?" The [Hair color] haired asked as Gavin rolled his eyes.

"Because Im the fucking best cop here. And because fucking Batman!" The brunet asnwered, like it was obvious to the male already. [Name] just sighed as he shake his head. Well, atleast he doesn't gave any case to be seen wearing this though. [Name] watched the brunet continue to brag about him being the "best cop" and it was honestly adorable in his eyes. God, why did he fell for this dork? As Gavin continue on and [Name] just listening to him with a small smile on his face. Someone came in the area.

"Hey, you two still her-- woah!" Tina said in surprised. The two had already stopped talking, well, Gavin did as they looked at the bewildered female. Tina's gaze went from the [Hair color] haired to the brunet. Switching more each second until her brain clicked. A huge grin formed on her lips as she laughed. "What the fuck are you grinning about?" Gavin asked as he raised a brow at the female who just ignored what he had said as she crossed her arms over her chest. A shit eating grin still plastered on her face and [Name] finally realize. The fucking shirts!

"Couple shirts? You guys are so fucking dorky it's adorable!" The bkack haired female had said as she giggled at both the male's faces. Gavin wasted no time cursing her out after what she said with red on his cheeks. Fucking hell, she didn't have to make him obvious! [Name] on the other hand hid his face on his hand, Jesus Christ, why him?

"Fuck off Chen! This isn't couple shirts so you can shove whatever crap your thinking off the gutters! Fucking hell!" The brunet cursed out as he embarrassedly glared at her. Tina found Gavin's curse rather hilarious. She couldn't take this guy seriously right now as he was so embarrassed and blushing red. This was golden, if only she had a camera to capture this moment. 'Oh wait... I do!' Quickly pulling out her phone out of her pocket, she immediately swiped it open and tapped the camera app. Capturing one if the best moments she had ever stumbled upon.

Snap

"CHEN DELETE THAT SHIT!!!" Gavin screamed as he was ready to strangle the female if it wasn't for [Name] grabbing the back of his shirt. "Gavin calm the fuck down." He had said as the brunet glared at him but did so. He didn't back off on cursing the two though. "Fucking Chen and fucking [Last name] stopoing me from murdering that fucking bitch." Gavin muttered as [Name] shook his head and looked at the female, his embarrassment slowly decreasing as it was only Tina who saw them in those shirts. God, he'll die if it was Hank. That old man was on his case on having to confess to the brunet for awhile now.

The [Hair color] haired male awkwardly cleared his throat as he raised a brow at the female. "Is there anything you need Tina? And please delete that picture," [Name] had said as Gavin finally stopped crusing him out and looked at the female in curiosity. Why did she need them anyway? "Oh, yeah. Fowler asked you two to interrogate this suspect from your case!" Tina offhandedly said. This caused Gavin to let another stream of curses out of his mout while [Name] paled. In this shirt? Fuck. "He says now, by the way," the female had said as she walked out the break room, giggling at the photo she had took. God these two dorks are absolutely adorable. And the shirts they were wearing were matching.

As Tina continued to walk, she was passed by Gavin and [Name] who had just realize what she had said, that they were need pronto by their boss. "FUCKING HELL! WHY DO THEY NEED US NOW WHEN WERE WEARING THIS CRAP?!?" Gavin yelled as he dragged [Name] who was muttering quiet curses underneath his breathe. The brunet tugging the male's hand to go faster as he cursed everyone who commented on their shirts. "Nice couple shirts Reed! Fucking finally, you two are fucking together! I can't stand watching you two fucking undress each other with your eyes!"

"FUCK OFF ANDERSON!!!"

#dbh x male reader #Gavin Reed #gavin #gavin reed #reed #dbh gavin reed #gavin x male reader #male reader #x male reader #Detroit become human #detroit: become human #Detroit become human x male reader #detroit become human x male reader #fluff #im sorry wtf dont kill me for the angst

[laceymorganwrites]

The Girl who spoke nerd: Peter´s pov

Word Count: 1,828

Pairing: Peter Parker x female!Reader

Warnings: mentions of bullying

A/N: I love writing pov of a character. And Spiderman. Hope you enjoy :) (Chester is an OC of mine, playing a part in my Deadpool Story)

„Stark, Parker“ the voice of my science teacher brought me back to reality.

I had been staring at her again, she knew.

Of course she knew, it was as obvious as me blushing at the fact my teacher hadn´t only caught me staring at her, but also decided to put us in a project together.

It was strange, somehow the teachers really liked it when I embarrassed myself in front of her.

We were also always seated next to each other and had to do several projects together.

Sometimes I wondered if they just had a strange sense of humor or were straight-up cruel.

„If you keep staring at me like that, I might explode, Superman“

She said it in an innocent way, but her smile was wicked and herr eyes gleamed mean.

The class had a good laugh at her comment and I just looked down at my failed attempts to draw her.

I could feel the heat in my cheeks and her merry laugh.

„I...I wasn´t...staring“ I tried to defend myself, but ended up stuttering, like always.

„Oh, Pete, I was just kidding!“ (Y/N) laughed even louder.

„Of course you were, creep“

Flash Thompson was the embodiment of a coitus interruptus, always too late and always failing, but everyone seemed to love him, to me he was just trying too hard.

He was afraid of (Y/N) because she was a mutant, which never bothered me, but because of that Flash wanted her to like him, so that she wouldn´t kill him.

Felicia Hardy asked him one day why he tried to impress her so much, which I heard the answer of.

He left and (Y/N) showed up to a Felicia who laughed villainous and told her all about it, to which (Y/N) responded: „You don´t need to be a mutant to be annoyed by Flash Thompson, but why the hell would I want to kill him? His wrong answers already do that“.

I laughed.

Her best friend then grabbed me, because I dared to cross their path on my way to my locker, and took away my sketches of (Y/N) just to show her.

That was about two months ago, in (Y/N)´s first week at high school.

„Ew, that´s creepy!Such a stalker nature“ she reacted.

„Yeah!I bet he does a lot of handwork on them, if you know what I mean!“

They laughed.

„I´m...I´m not that kind of guy!“ I tried to defend myself.

„Sure you aren´t.“

Then Chester, another mutant, came by and punched me, I just proceeded to leave.

It was weird in the first few weeks with (Y/N) in school, she acted like a stereotypical mean girl, desperately trying to find new friends.

One day she casually sat down next to Michelle, an introvert girl who never hid that she hated basically everybody.

So Ned and I were really excited to see what would happen next.

The day started with (Y/N) walking into school without her miniskirt and high heels, instead she wore dark ripped up jeans, a tight black shirt and sneakers, her hair was done up.

Michelle´s look was priceless, a numb expression on her face, eyebrows furrowed.

She put down her book and smiled back at (Y/N), who proudly showed her new outfit.

„Finally, you want to see the sketches?“ they did a secret handshake and Michelle laughed with (Y/N). „Yes, please“ (Y/N) responded and as soon as she saw them, she snorted. I always thought her laugh was like chirping, but this was cute, I couldn´t help, but smile. „What is going on?“ Ned whispered.

„I have no idea“ I was lost in the conversation, (Y/N) laughed at Michelle´s sketches and they talked about dancing and the band, gossiped about the stereotypes and in the end (Y/N) thanked Michelle for being her friend.

Suddenly the `Add sugar spice and everything nice´- attitude changed into the `She´s beauty she´s grace she´ll punch you in the face´- attitude.

And I had the biggest crush on her, and a science project to be done.

„I´ll swing by later“ (Y/N) interrupted me from grieving.

„Er...yeah...cool“ I gave her a quick smile and then packed my things for the next lesson.

It was funny how everyone was so scared of her when she was so awesome, Ned was afraid of her too, so I couldn´t tell him how I felt about (Y/N), that´s why I told him I liked Liz, the sophomore girl he was into.

The bell rang after another day of school which lasted too long and I hurried to get home.

I even spared the drive to the dumpster where I normally go to collect computer items.

„Hey, May, Ben“ I locked the door behind me to greet my aunt and uncle.

„Hey, Peter, how was school?“ asked May through the kitchen.

„It was pretty good actually, (Y/N) will come later, we have a project to do on X rays“ „X rays, huh?“ laughed uncle Ben.

Sometimes it happens that I don´t listen when I´m talking so the words just come out and it´s awkward.

„Is (Y/N) the girl you talk about all the time?“ May asked.

„I thought her name was Liz“ Uncle Ben called from the living room.

„Yes that´s her, Ben, Liz is just an alibi for Ned, he shouldn´t know I like her“ I tried to explain, as I accompanied him on the Couch.

„Why not?” he asked me. „Because she´s a mutant“ I answered and shifted awkwardly, the Topic of mutants was quite controversial. „So what?“ Ben shrugged. „I know you´re really tolerant, I don´t have a problem with that either, I just don´t get why people have, it doesn´t feel right!“ I got defensive again, but I knew I couldn´t Change a Thing.

„You´re just like your dad“ Ben smiled and I had to too.

„Everyone´s afraid of her“ I frowned, still not grasping it.

„Don´t you want to tidy your room?“ May remarked.

I checked the time and ran into my room, bashing the door and hysterically screaming a „Sorry!“.

Then I cleaned my room in ten minutes so it looked like (Y/N) could sit somewhere.

Finally the doorbell rang.

„I´m coming!“ I rushed to the door, passed  laughing May and Ben before I stopped to breathe and opened the door.

„Hey“ I grinned widely.

„Shall I pass?“ she smiled and after laughing at a reference of a movie I was pretty sure she had never seen I stepped back so that she could enter.

„You shall pass“

„So you must be (Y/N)!“ Ben stood up from the couch and shook (Y/N)´s hand.

„Yes, I am. It´s nice to meet you, Mr Parker“ she smiled widely. „Hello (Y/N), Peter has told us so much about you! Dinner´s done, do you want to join us?“ May came out of the kitchen and also shook (Y/N)´s hand.

„That would be really nice, Mrs Parker, thank you“ (Y/N) was very Kind. „You´re welcome“ May smiled and then gave me thumbs up.

„This is delicious, Mrs Parker“ (Y/N) said.

The dinner went on pretty good, as we finished I showed (Y/N) my room.

„Pretty“ she noticed.

„Thanks, so on what aspects should we focus?“ I tried to Focus on the Project rather than our future marriage and children, „Of course how x rays work, how to use them, x ray vision, maybe history, like who found it and how it developed“ she thought out loud. „Okay, I´ll start the presentation“ I offered and took out my Laptop. „Alright“  (Y/N) placed herself on my bed, searching her notes on the topic, staring at me.

I turned around to show her the design, she was smiling.

„What?“ I asked, blushing.

Her smile widened.

„Nothing, it´s just, you´re so nice to me“ she said. „Well, why wouldn´t I be?“ I asked. „Because I was pretty mean to you when I first came into school“  she almost sounded as if she was apologizing. „So what, everyone´s mean to me. I don´t mind“ I tried to Play it off cool. „Yes you do, Penis Parker“ she smirked. „Come on, not you too“ I was annoyed at that stupid nickname. „See it bothers you“ she remarked. „Of course it bothers me, who wouldn´t be bothered?“ I gave in. „Then why don´t you do anything against it?“ she asked, as if doing anything would help. „Cause I can´t, if I did, nothing would change, they would just keep going, only stronger this time. If I ignore it, it might go away“ I confessed. „You know what, Parker?“ she smiled at me. „What?“ I was confused. „I think you´re pretty awesome“ she now grinned and I had a rapid heartbeat. I didn´t respond to that, maybe I should´ve before I lost her, but it was too late, so only the memory remained, I wish I´d done something before she vanished.

Instead we just finished the project and one week later, I became Spiderman and uncle Ben died.

Since that day she wasn´t in school, rumor had it that she returned to the school for gifted youngsters.

I haven´t seen her in six months, neither have I spoken to her.

But Spiderman has, I´ve seen her in Brooklyn and Hell´s Kitchen, so why did she lie?

One day I walked around in the Bronx and I saw Tricity, my hero idol, she just fought King Pin with the Punisher, then they turned into a corner, where she unmasked, it has been (Y/N) all the time, and I watched from the rooftop.

That explained a lot, but it didn´t look like a mission, she left me alone.

So you can see why I am so surprised seeing her sit on my couch with her dad today.

He said I won a scholarship, but I was suspicious about that.

„Hey, Pete, can we talk?“ she looked at me with her (Y/E/C) eyes and stood up.

I said nothing until we were in my room.

„Listen, Peter, I´m sorry. I know the last months were rough for you, maybe you needed me, I don´t know that, I just know that I feel really guilty for just leaving you. I just, your uncle died, I didn´t know how to handle that, I still don´t, maybe you needed space, maybe you didn´t want to see me, and trust me, I understand that you´re angry and I´m so sorry.“ Her voice cracked. How could someone be so perfect? I just looked at her, I couldn´t believe she was really here right now.

„Peter, say something“ she whispered.

„You´re awesome, Tricity“ I smiled slightly and she sat down next to me with a big grin.

„Spiderman“ (Y/N) was so near to me, she looked so beautiful, she cut her hair and got her braces removed, her lips were full and rosy, her lips…

I leaned in without thinking and then I kissed her.

Her hand grabbed mine as she placed her arm around my neck and deepened the kiss, then her dad came in.

#marvel #spiderman #peter parker #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #civil war #imagine #one shot #scenario

[sebongie-loves]

a good idea

requested here! enjoy <3

“ Hello, may you do Hoshi scenario where he and his s/o recreating the kissing scene from Spiderman”

to start everything off, you’ve been in a relationship with soonyoung for quite some times now

by quite some times means enough for you two to be comfortable with each other, enough for you to take a shower and him brushing his teeth, enough for him to do the gross things around you without getting embarrassed and enough for you to do anything around him without being all shy

you two met in a funny way and you rather not to talk about it but it’s ended up being an inside joke between the two of you

soonyoung is always the funny one on his group so it’s not a surprise for him being the one who keeps making you laugh

and also at this point, you probably knew everything about him 

his little habits, his routine, his hobbies, his favourites

his puns and silly jokes

if someone say they want to get surprised by their boyfriend everyday, they should try soonyoung because this boy is full of surprises

actually, nevermind, he spoils his own surprises so he is really bad at it but one thing he is really good at is being extra

like after watching kingsman he legit goes to the store and try to buy a suit, the shoes and the umbrellas then proceeds to make the choreography of no f.u.n

after watching train to busan, he literally asks you to go to busan with him by train because ‘those things might happened and we are safe if we go that way!’ and probably because jihoon refused to his request

he tried to cook every single recipes in the food wars anime and soonyoung ate ramen every single day for a month after he is done watching naruto

honestly, the list could go on but you rather stop there because there are so many other weird movies 

including those superhero movies.....

you are doing your works, it was late at night and you think soonyoung wouldn’t get home because of his schedules but he appeared out of the blue

just like the usual night routines, you hugged him, saying how much you miss him, you told him to wash up while you heat up your leftover dinner before finally cuddling after he was done with the shower and meals

you two are cuddling up on the couch, watching random reality shows that you found on the television which is not that necessary because you two ended up talking to each other 

at first you are still watching, but not until soonyoung buries his face on the crook of your neck. “y/n, baby.” he mumbles

you giggle from the vibration from his voice that tickles you, making you to try to push his head away from your neck. “that tickles, but what?”

“i watched spiderman with the boys yesterday and do you remember the kiss scene?”

his sentence is enough to make you gulp nervously before you actually continuing your sentence. “... yeah?”

“let’s do it!”

“soonyoung i don’t know when i said yes to your confession, i’ll be signing up for your bullshit.”

that’s definitely a no from you but if soonyoung gives up, you might need to double check 

you receive an invitation to seventeen’s dorm and you thought it was just some simple invitation, soonyoung wants to see you but he can’t go out so you’re the one who need to go

just like usual, you go

but you discovered something that is unusual. it’s seokmin who opened the door for you and he looks.. flustered?

“oh seokminnie! where is soonyoung? i texted him but i don’t think he sees it.”

“u-uhh. i t-think soonyoung hyung is in his r-room..”

okay, sketchy but honestly the dorm is filled with 13 boys, they probably hide a lot of things from you so you don’t really mind his behaviour but instead your expression says alot about him being suspicious. “okay?”

you pass seokmin by and just walk to soonyoung’s room that you’re sure is shared with some other boys that he kicked out earlier before you came

“WHAT THE F--” 

soonyoung, or at least that who you thought the person in superman suit is, is hanging upside down on the bunk bed. “y/n, i know you’re surprised but can you kiss me because my blood is going to my head right now.”

you were not gonna play along with his jokes but you also don’t want your boyfriend dead so you kiss him quickly, which quickly escalate to a quick make out session with you whispering ‘you dumb’ in between

before a loud bang sound resonates in the room and him ended up being on the floor because you manage to save yourself from this not-so-unexpected incident

“SOONYOUNG WHAT HAPPENED WE TOLD YOU IT WAS A BAD IDEA.”

“it’s okay, hyung!!!!”

soonyoung takes off his spiderman mask and just showing you his cutest grin and his fluffy hair being all messy which actually makes you feel better and realise how funny the situation is

“did i ever tell you how much i love you for tolerating my shit?”

“you haven’t today but now i think you should. what were you thinking it was not a good idea at all soonyoung.”

soonyoung loves the way you nag and he just laughs, he always got annoyed everytime someone nags at him but he never complains when you’re the one who is nagging. 

“you enjoyed it though, it’s absolutely a good idea.”

“kwon soon--” he leans in for a kiss, stopping you from nagging which turns out into a longer makeout session which you are not gonna complain about because you love kwon soonyoung and his silly ideas are actually the sweetest thing considering all he wanted to do is to make you laugh

I HOPE THIS IS GOOD BUT THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING AND FOR READING THIS IS SO FUN 

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagines #svt scenario #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #kwon soonyoung #kwon hoshi #hoshi #soonyoung #soonyoung fluff #hoshi fluff #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung scenarios

[grapefruitguan-blog]

Spiderman (BJY)

“Did you guys see that Spiderman saved that little boy from drowning?” a girl squealed.

“Okay, but what about the time he caught those robbers from stealing from a bank?”

It was your usual Thursday night shift, and business was always slow. As a university student, you were desperate for cash, which led to you becoming a waitress at Johnny’s, a 50s themed diner right across from your campus. You sighed, wiping the counters.

“Baejin, what’s so cool about this Spiderman guy anyways?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” the boy replied, shoving more fries into his mouth, “maybe they think he’s cute?”

“How can you think someone’s cute if you’ve never seen their face?”

Bae Jinyoung, Baejin for short, was a boy in your math class, and every Thursday he’d hang out with you during your shift so you wouldn’t be as miserable. Sometimes, the two of you would do homework together, and you’d sneak him some food from the kitchen to eat. He was fairly handsome with an extremely small face, dark brown eyes, and platinum silver hair, attracting several female customers into Johnny’s. Because of this, the manager didn’t mind Baejin coming in, and even encouraged it. You secretly had a small crush on him, but you were always too much of a chicken to ever confess.

“Spiderman” was the mysterious figure that was currently the talk of the town. Appearing last month for the first time, the public dubbed him the name “Spiderman” after the boy was seen shooting webs and jumping from wall to wall. There wasn’t much that people knew, but whenever they covered him on the news, he wore blue jeans and a red morphe suit, covering his face with a mask. He would do good things for the city at night, and always disappeared whenever the news tried to interview him.

To be frank, you didn’t get the big deal.

“He’s just some guy who likes to help the city.”

“I bet he is.”

Baejin stayed with you for another hour until he said he had to go home, and the female customers soon left as well. A few hours later, the head chef notified you that it was your turn to clean the kitchen. Nodding, you waved as the door shut behind him and started closing the restaurant for the night.

Humming to your favorite song, you began to sweep the floors and clean the tables. Your paycheck was soon coming in, and you were finally planning to ask Baejin to go to the movies together.

The smell of smoke caught you mid-song.

The chef had forgotten to turn off the stove, leaving the whole room ablaze. You rushed inside with the vain attempt of trying to throw water onto the fire, but ended up making it worse. It was soon becoming difficult to breath, as you wheezed trying to find your way out. The cabinets had fallen over, barricading all of the exits. Desperately, you ran to the telephone, choking out a plea.

“911, what’s the emergency?”

“I’m trapped inside of Johnny’s. I can’t breathe, it’s on fire.”

“Ma’am, stay on the line, we’ll get some help to you right away.”

Kneeling in a corner, you tried to not inhale too much carbon monoxide. You were feeling dizzy, almost losing hope that somebody would come and save you.

Was this really the end? You had so much that you still planned to do in life, and you never had the chance to tell Baejin how you felt.

You heard a loud crash as someone busted into the room. You hoped that it would be the firemen, and it took you by surprise when a boy your age was standing next to you.

“Oh my god.”

“Spiderman” didn’t say a word. He quickly lifted you up, shooting a string of webs in front of him to form a rope, and swung the two of you outside of the building. He then created more string, swinging from building to building until he finally reached the hospital.

As he sprinted with you in his arms, the nurses instantly swarmed him.

“Spiderman, you’re back! Who’s the girl?”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning, burning building. Check on her.”

With that, he gave you to the nurses before sprinting off, leaving before you could thank him. You could have sworn that you’ve heard his voice before but couldn’t remember where.

If only it was Baejin.

Bae Jinyoung was screwed. Not only did he have a thesis paper due tomorrow morning, but he saved his crush from a burning building. She wasn’t supposed to know that he was Spiderman, and he intended for it to stay that way.

He only got this weird spider bite two months ago, before discovering all the cool things he could now thanks to it. But, he never thought he’d be using it to save you.

Goddamnit.

The next morning, the hospital cleared you, saying that you were free to go  and that you were extremely lucky that Spiderman had saved you before it was too late. Word had spread that you were saved in a burning building by Spiderman, and all of your friends surrounded you, dying to know what happened.

“Spiderman saved you, (Y/N)? Man, you’re so lucky!”

“Oh my gosh, did he take of his mask? Did you see him?”

“Was he hot?”

Among all of the questions and your classmates’ prying questions, Baejin gave you a small smile.

“(Y/N), I’m glad you’re alright.”

The two of you had been working on your math homework for about an hour now, and you were rambling on about the boy who saved you last night. If only you knew that it was actually him who saved you.

“Baejin, who do you think Spiderman is?” you gushed.

“No clue.”

“He’s super strong! He was able to pick me up and everything-”

“Oh, really?”

“I wish I could just see him again so I could actually say thanks, you know? I think I’m starting to grow a crush on him,” you laughed.

He mentally cursed as he swung from telephone poles, finally arriving to his friend Daehwi’s house. Daehwi was the only one who knew his real identity, and left his window open every night so he could help Baejin with any injuries.

“Dude, you have to tell her that you like her!” Baejin’s friend, Daehwi insisted.

“Daehwi, I can’t. She doesn’t even me, she likes Spiderman.”

“And you ARE Spiderman, idiot! Just hurry up and confess. I’m sick of you always blubbering about how nice she looks when she works!”

“I still can’t do it,” he groaned, flopping on Daehwi’s bed, “What if she says no?”

“How will you know she’ll say no until you try?”

You were still up at midnight doing your homework, mentally lecturing yourself for procrastinating. As you scribbled down more answers to your worksheet, you heard a knock on your window. Swiveling around, you walked over to the silhouette of a person standing behind it.

“Who’s there?”

The person tilted their head, and you instantly recognize the red morphe suit and the mask. You quickly let them in and shut the window once again.

“Hey Spiderman.”

The boy didn’t answer, waving awkwardly.

“Do you want to sit somewhere?”

The two of you sat awkwardly on your bed, Spiderman seemingly more nervous than you. You had to wonder if this was the same person who saved your life two days ago.

“So, um,” you started, “I want to say thanks for saving me back there. Honestly, I probably would’ve died if it weren’t for you.”

“I mean, I used to not know what the big deal about you was, and I’d always complain about it to my friends. But, after what you did back there, I can definitely see it now.”

Spiderman shifted uncomfortably on your bed and started to peel off his mask.

“Can you still see it?”

It was Baejin, red from embarrassment as he looked down.

“Baejin? It was you?”

“Y-yeah, I know you probably wish it wasn’t,” he said, turning red, “that day,  I saw the fire at Johnny’s, and I freaked out because I knew you were working still. And I’m not like the cool guy that everyone thinks I am, but I’m just Baejin.”

He got up ready to climb out your window.

“J-just don’t tell anyone at school, and I’ll just pretend that this never happened.”

Without looking back, he went to jump off your window, but you grabbed his arm.

“Wait. Why wouldn’t I want you to be Spiderman?”

“Because you don’t like me.”

“Baejin, you idiot, I’ve liked you for a while now.”

It was his turn to be surprised.

“Wait, what?”

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to go watch a movie this weekend,” you said, nervously twiddling with your thumbs, “if you don’t want to, it’s fine! I-”

“N-no, that isn’t the case! I just have to go because Daehwi needs to patch up my back.”

“How’s next weekend? I’ll buy the tickets,” he asks.

“That’s good with me.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then,” he said, putting his mask on, “I’ll see you.”

“Bye.”

You shut your window closed, watching him swing back and forth from buildings before disappearing in sight. After giddily planning what you’d wear next week, you fell asleep.

Baejin was still on his way back to Daehwi’s house. Smiling like an idiot, he hollered as he did a backflip from the telephone poles, feeling as if nothing could stop him now.

“I’m on top of the world!”

He’s not Superman, but for you he’d be superhuman.

------------------

ALTERNATE ENDING (For my angst readers?):

Baejin never made it to Daehwi’s house. As he was traveling back, he was knocked out from below, and pulled into a dark alleyway.

“So, this is Spiderman?” a dark voice chuckled, “Pathetic.”

“Come on, bug boy, show us what you’ve got.”

#wannaone #baejinyoung #baejin #kangdaniel #leedaehwi #fanfic #kpop #ongseongwu #laiguanlin

[rickthaniel]

Logan is a Western, and it Changes Everything

Logan makes every other superhero film in the past fifteen years look like a cheap parlor trick. For two hours and twenty one minutes, it locks you in and makes you watch a movie that doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. It’s uncomfortable and messy and it doesn’t satisfy. Wolverine’s claws are uneven and his kills are ugly. People die with no last words, no proper sendoff and no closure. Logan provokes visceral reactions time and again, not because it’s violent, but because it’s painful, and everything else now looks plastic by comparison.

From the top, let me say I hope this doesn’t come across as some edgy rant arguing for more gore and profanity in superhero films. That’s not my point. I should also confess that I have no experience with the X-Men comics, or with comics at all for that matter. I’m not arguing that The Avengers would have been better with a few more fucks given. All I’m saying is that Logan changes things, and the rest of the genre needs to take notice and adapt.

I expect words like “raw” and “gritty” will be thrown around a lot in discussing Logan. I’m hesitant to use that vernacular because it’s the same language people use to describe The Dark Knight, and the two really aren’t that comparable. They both step outside the box of contemporary comic book movies, but where The Dark Knight is a thriller, Logan is a western, and therein lies the difference that makes Hugh Jackman’s final outing so important.

In the modern Hollywood superhero archetype, the greater message to the audience is apparent to the characters. Superman is a symbol of justice and goodness, and he understands that just as well as we do. In The Dark Knight, Batman represents the basic human struggle between morality and chaos that thematically pervades throughout the whole film. Both forces are at work in Bruce Wayne, and The Joker and Two Face bring that inner conflict into the spotlight. And Batman gets this. He understands he’s a symbol in some broader thematic picture.

In a western, Batman doesn’t get it. We get it, and therefore we have certain expectations about how Batman is supposed to act and how the plot is supposed to go. Batman doesn’t see the deeper significance of his circumstances, so his actions don’t match our expectations. He doesn’t stop to consider what he’s supposed to do in a narrative sense.

The Dark Knight is clean. Maybe that’s controversial, but it shouldn’t be. Yes, Rachel dies. Yes, Harvey Dent succumbs to The Joker’s twisted social experiment, and yes, Batman takes the fall when he shouldn’t have to. But that all makes sense. It fulfills the thematic ends we anticipated when we bought our tickets. We understand what Batman and Joker represent, and we’d be shocked if the movie ended happy. In the end, we get what we paid for. It’s clean. It satisfies.

Logan does not satisfy. It isn’t clean because no part of it understands the rules it’s supposed to follow. Professor X insists on being crass, pathetic and generally wrong about everything, despite our presumption that he’s meant to be kind, strong and wise. Characters die in the middle of fights, dazed and confused with no forewarning, no tidy arc or epiphany and no greater thematic significance. And when they’re buried, Logan offers no words to explain why. It doesn’t resolve the major plot points revealed in the film’s third act. It refuses to give us the explanations we demand. Hell, the whole crux of the plot is that Wolverine’s powers have stopped functioning properly. He doesn’t work the way he’s supposed to.

I also expect Logan will see a lot of comparisons to last year’s Deadpool. After all, the two films mark the first two consecutive steps in Fox’s ongoing experiment in R-rated superhero movies. The difference is that Deadpool puts a filter on the established tropes of the genre, while Logan takes a filter off.

At no point while watching Ryan Reynolds bloodily slice up extras and spout crude one-liners did I see Deadpool as some new norm. It doesn’t feel natural, it feels off. In a good way mind you, but off nonetheless.  Logan, on the other hand, makes everything else feel off. Suddenly, every prior film Fox, DC and Disney have ever put out in the genre looks fake. Where’s the ugliness? Where’s the pain? I’m not asking Chris Hemsworth to start decapitating people in Thor: Ragnarok, but looking back now I can’t help notice all the lines, all the actions, all the moments that felt stiff and unnatural. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has always been primed and focus-tested, there’s no revelation there. The Hollywood blood was visibly coursing right beneath the skin, and everyone accepted it. But now Logan has cut an adamantium gash and the Hollywood is spilling out, impossible to ignore anymore.

Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine holds a pedigree as old as the contemporary superhero film. Tobey Maguire’s masked debut in Spiderman made such a huge splash upon release in 2002 that lots of people forget it was preceded two years by the original X-Men. Long before Robert Downey Jr. became an idol for American children, Hugh Jackman and Wolverine laid the early groundwork that would become modern comic book blockbusters as we know them. The X-Men franchise built the foundation for the genre’s multibillion-dollar card tower, and in one breath James Mangold blew the whole thing down and showed us all what a façade it was.

Up until now, superhero flicks have been Hollywood’s Top 40 pop hits. Sure Batman might switch into a minor key and Deadpool slapped a parental advisory label on the cover, but they still played on the same stations. Logan composes in a whole different time signature. It’s new and different and feels unnatural, and it can’t be ignored.

#logan #wolverine #the wolverine #xmen #x-men #hugh jackman #ryan reynolds #tobey maguire #spiderman #the avengers #dc comics #marvel #disney #batman #the dark knight #justice league #deadpool

[revlyncox]

Superhero Values

This sermon was revised for the Unitarian Church of Harrisburg, October 22, 2017.

As we reach out to build bridges in contentious times, I am wondering about role models. It seems to me that mythology, fiction, and maybe even history can supply us with examples of values we can agree on, values such as commitment and sacrifice. Stories that have captured our imaginations in the past may remind us of the people we hope to become.

When I was a kid, Batman was the lead character in some of those stories. He showed up in comic books and Pez dispensers, but the most influential form of Batman from my childhood was the Adam West character on television. When I was six or seven years old, the other kids who went to my babysitter and I used to run around the yard chasing super villains, pretending the basement steps were the Bat Cave, and generally doing our part for the good of Gotham City. I was always Batgirl, of course, while the other kids traded roles as Batman, Robin, and the various arch-nemeses.

I learned a couple of things from Batman and Batgirl. I learned that superheroes have remarkable origin stories, events that changed the direction of their lives. You might not be able to tell from looking at them, especially in their secret identities, but every superhero has a past.* Batgirl also taught me that superheroes struggle with power. Whether the super skills come from hard work, cool gadgets, or another planet, heroes have to figure out the most effective and responsible way to use those skills. Finally, I learned that superheroes form coalitions. Batman and Robin and Batgirl worked together, not to mention Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara. Even an independent vigilante needs other people for the toughest problems.

Come to think of it, those same three things are true for all of us. Each of us has to decide how to respond to the past. Individually and as a group, we are faced with questions of power and responsibility. Teaming up with other people is a source of strength, in spite of and perhaps because of our differences. I think these characteristics of superheroes call attention to our future as a spiritual community.

Heroes Have Origins

First, superheroes have origin stories. Some event from the past sparked the character’s discovery of talents and passions, leading to a new sense of identity and purpose. Those events might be associated with death or separation from a loved one, or with the loss of the character’s pre-heroic dreams.

Superman’s powers come from his extra-planetary birth, but his ideas about truth, justice, and the American way come from Martha and Jonathan Kent. There is some speculation that Superman’s creators (Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster) modeled him after Moses, a baby whose people faced destruction, and was carried in a small vessel to a land where his birth identity had to be concealed.

Some superheroes start off with an unlikely accident, like Peter Parker’s radioactive spider bite to become Spiderman. Some superheroes have qualities that were typical in their place of origin, but something called them to a world similar to our own, where their profound difference turned out to be a gift. Wonder Woman, AquaMan, and Valkyrie fall into this category.

Whatever the story, most extra-human comic book characters have faced a life-changing event that seems to isolate them from other people. Often, the character will acquire or discover or place new value on a gift during that experience. Picking up these pieces of loss, loneliness, and strength, the character eventually forges a new sense of purpose.

Michael Servetus (Miguel Serveto) is someone from Unitarian history whose story follows this pattern a bit. He wasn’t always brave, and he wasn’t known for being kind, but he did set himself apart and commit his life to the truth as he saw it. When he read the Bible for himself for the first time as a young student in the 1520s, he was shocked to discover no evidence for the doctrine of the Trinity. In 1531, he published a tract, De Trinitatis Erroribus (On the Errors of the Trinity), seemingly convinced that people would see it his way if only they would listen. That’s not what happened. He was run out of town, his books were confiscated, and the Supreme Council of the Inquisition started looking for him.

This is where the secret identity comes in. Servetus fled to Paris and assumed the name of Michel de Villeneuve. He had a varied career as de Villeneuve, first as an editor and publisher, then as a doctor. He worked on a seven-volume edition of the Bible, adding insightful footnotes. He was the first to publish about the link between the pulmonary and respiratory systems, which was an important point in a discussion about the Virgin birth. During his time as the personal physician for the Archbishop of Vienne, he secretly worked on his next theological treatise, Christianismi Restitutio (The Restoration of Christianity). He also struck up a correspondence with his old classmate, John Calvin. Servetus was not diplomatic in his criticisms of Calvin’s writing, and Calvin broke off correspondence. Servetus seemed to think that their exchange was illuminating, because he included copies of the letters when he sent an advance copy of the Restitutio to Geneva.  

The publication of the Restitutio in 1553 marked the end of Servetus’ secret identity. Both Protestant and Catholic authorities pursued him as a dangerous heretic. He was burned at the stake on October 27, 1553, by the order of The Council of Geneva. Reportedly, he maintained his beliefs until the end, shouting heretical prayers from the flames. The Catholic Inquisition in France burned Servetus in effigy a few months later. There were a lot of people who didn’t want his ideas to be heard. Luckily for us, a few copies of his books were preserved, and went on to generate new ideas among religious reformers for over 450 years.

Now, I’m not saying Michael Servetus was a superhero, or even that UU’s today would agree with most of what he wrote, but I do think we can see how a turning point in someone’s life can bring isolation, energy, purpose, abilities, and vulnerabilities, all at the same time. His origins were more like Spiderman than Superman: Being in the right place at the right time, Servetus was bitten by the theology bug. He had to adopt an alter ego, but the bug also afforded him the drive and the insight to make great contributions to religious scholarship and religious freedom.

How often is it the same for those of us who are regular folks? The events that make us who we are may bring loss or a sense of being alone in the world. These same events may bring a chance for us to develop new talents, or personal connection to the work we aspire to do. Passion and vulnerability can come from a single point in time. The Universalist side of our heritage teaches us that we—whole people with flaws and past mistakes and experiences that leave us broken—we human beings are welcome in the universe just as we are. Unitarian Universalism is inclusive, not because we believe that everyone is perfect, but because we have faith that the qualities that make us human also open doors for greater love and compassion.

The thing that sets a superhero origin story apart from a villain origin story is how the character translates their past into a future of meaning and purpose. Most of us are not consistently villains or heroes; we have to choose in every moment how to draw from our past to make choices in the present. We can’t control our origin stories. Even if our own choices led to the turning points in our lives, they are in the past now. What we can do is bring our values to the way we understand those turning points, and to our decisions about what to do with the gifts we have now. Let’s do our best to choose to use our origins well.

Heroes Form Coalitions

The very first appearance of Spiderman (in Amazing Fantasy #15 in 1962) saw the teenage Peter Parker misusing his new powers, only to have his negligence contribute to the death of his Uncle Ben, one of his adoptive parents. Peter’s understanding of Ben’s teaching that “With great power there must also come—great responsibility!” shaped his character from then on.

Peter Parker’s realization might just as easily come from the Unitarian Universalist theologian James Luther Adams. Adams had a great deal to say about power and what that meant for the responsibilities of the liberating church.

As a minister between 1927 and the late 1930s, Adams made several trips to Germany, a country that was renowned for theological scholarship. He spoke with church and intellectual leaders, was detained for questioning by the Gestapo, and developed a sense of urgency about the political, cultural, moral, and spiritual crisis that went along with the rise of the Nazi party. While Adams developed great respect for the anti-Nazi Confessing Church movement, he noticed that Germany’s churches as a whole were not pushing back against the crisis.

Under Adams’ theology, individual and organized spirituality should be “examined.” There must be a path for critique, self-correction, and development. In his essay, “A Faith for the Free,” Adams wrote, “the achievement of freedom in community requires the power of organization and the organization of power.”

I get the impression from Adams that organization doesn’t just mean people together, it means people together on purpose, with a method and a discipline to move forward. Paraphrasing Jesus, Adams is quoted as saying, “By their groups you shall know them.” For voluntary groups to be a significant force, they need to include diverse members. That is easier said than done.

In fiction, superheroes seem to gravitate to one another. From the X-Men to the Avengers to the Super Friends, collections of lead characters become ensembles. They have very different abilities and outlooks. Teaming up isn’t always easy, and it can be risky. Household squabbles may become epic battles if super abilities get out of hand. However, when they combine their gifts in the same direction, they can tackle complex problems that none of them would be able to handle alone.

This is why we form coalitions, too. Our congregation is a microcosm, with atheists, theists, polytheists, agnostics, and everybody else worshipping and volunteering side by side. Out in the world, we don’t worry too much about theological differences when we’re working with other groups to serve our community. It does happen, though, that we forget, or we retreat into what we think is a bubble of sameness, or we narrow our scope of what seems possible.

Let’s build on what is already going well as we resist the shrinking of our horizons. There may be partners in our community that we have yet to meet. There may be institutes for exceptional heroes, or halls of justice, that we have to overcome our internalized hurdles of classism and racism before we can join.

At the very least, we can ensure that we’re making the most of our super team in this congregation. Like the superheroes, we can do more and support each other when we come together.

Conclusion

There is a lot that our congregation has in common with an assembly of superheroes. Each one of us has an origin story, a set of events that shaped our talents, passions, and vulnerabilities. Each one of us has the opportunity to shape that story into a life of meaning and purpose. Like superheroes, it is incumbent on us to come to terms with power. Our collective abilities and assets make us a force to be reckoned with, and it is up to us to do the moral and religious discernment to make sure we’re doing a good job wielding that power. Our honesty with each other and our other spiritual practices will help. Like the best superheroes, we form alliances. Within the congregation, we share our specialized powers and support one another to accomplish goals none of us could handle alone. In our coalitions with other groups, we build bridges that support compassion. May all that has been divided be made whole.

Maybe all that’s left is to come up superhero names and costumes. The Avengers is taken, and doesn’t sound like us. The Reconcilers? The Uncommon U-Folks? The Fantastic Fellowship?

I’ve heard from some UU friends who have consistently showed up for immigration reform, civil rights, and economic equality that the non-UU’s in their coalitions have started to recognize them by their bright yellow shirts with red hearts. They’ve been nicknamed “the Love People.” Sounds super to me. I hope it sticks, and I hope we stick with it.

So be it. Blessed be. Amen.