Fiercemagician - Fierce Magician

Jason Todd

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I just love this.

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

I’m sorry. I had to reblog.

Me_irl

i made your favorite dish. i made you something you’ve never tried before. i love you. i spent twenty minutes chopping. my grandmother made this for me when i was little. i made this dairy free for you. i love you. i want to eat together. the onions made me cry. i love you. i learned this recipe for you. i love you. i made this special for your birthday. i love you. i know you don’t like peppers. i love you. i love you. i love you.

So, did anyone else notice that in episode 3 of Loki, they are basically walking around in a bi pride flag??

Like look at that!! The entire world is a foreshadowing!!

A CROW TRIED TO GO IN OUR CLASSROOM AND HE HAD A PEN

A tv show in the style of The Office and Parks and Rec, but it follows a small town high school marching band

A friend and I came up with a vague concept of it at lunch, but hear me out

-the band director is this disgruntled middle aged dude who just wants to win one season -he pretty much hates his job and is planning to quit, but he’s determined to outlast the drama teacher -his worst rival is the drama teacher. It’s so bad that the band kids and the theater kids won’t even look at each other

-the siblings, Jack and Lyse -Jack is a junior (saxophone player) -he low key secretly wants to play the Clarinet -he’s the saxophone section leader and Can’t Fucking Handle It™ -and he’s so mad because he worked so hard for it, but the people in his section just suck -he would totally try to act like everything is fine, though -“being section leader … It’s great. I love what I do.” *later* “I swear to God if one more freshmen runs into me while marching I’ll put old reeds in their marching shoes.” -Lyse is a sophomore -she was supposed to be a saxophone player like her brother, but she got voluntold to play mellophone because there weren’t enough of them -she doesn’t really care, though, because she just wants to make it through without being noticed -but halfway through the marching season we discover that she actually really wants to be a theater kid -because she’s just trying to survive high school, she kind of gets run over a lot, but she’s secretly really salty and will stand up for herself if you push her enough -“I was best friends with Evan (president of the drama club) until freshmen year when I found out that he was the snake putting hot sauce in my mouth piece. And what better way to get back at snakes then by putting snakes in their back pack? … Jack says that sometimes I over react, and I’m starting to think that maybe he’s right.”

-the percussionists are pretty much elusive emo kids in a weird “inner circle” type thing with favoritism amongst drum majors -except for one named Brent -he’s real name is not Brent, but at this point everybody is to afraid to ask what it actually is or why he’s called Brent -the first time we meet him he blows vape juice in a freshmans face -the freshmen kind of worship him, and can often be seen fanning him and doing his bidding for no reason -he carpools with people and tells who ever is in the back seat that they’re “sitting in his children” -hardly ever even shows up -“I’m a senior, so I just kind of come and go. I’m only staying for them” *looks out at the freshmen all standing to the side staring at him*

-the freshmen do not speak -they can be seen running around doing weird things, but they never talk -one of the running jokes is that one of them will get a talking head, but when they open their mouth to speak they get cut off by an upperclassmen

-the other running joke is that every time someone in color guard hits someone or an instrument, Bret just throws his snare drum (or nearest instrument) at them -several freshmen have been thrown -every time it happens the band director stares into the camera and makes a tally mark on his clipboard -the clipboard is pretty much just tally marks and a note with a reminder to die

Feel free to add stuff! Make your own characters!

(It’ll be called Band Kids, by the way)