I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.
Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower’s mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away.
“Wanna hear my new time?” Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips.
“There’s no way you beat my time,” Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance.
“What!” Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. “No way.”
“Flat,” Flash said.
“There’s no way.”
“Check my heartbeat if you don’t believe me,” Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. “Actually, don’t, I’m pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy.”
His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn’t as relevant as it could have been.
“Dangit,” Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. “What time?”
“Eleven on a Saturday,” Flash said, looking even more smug. “You know I don’t mess around.”
“Tch!” Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. “You forgot about–”
“Nnnope,” Flash interrupted. “I’m including the new ones in that, that’s the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I’d still be at seven-point-four.”
“Tch.” Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. “Nine seconds,” he repeated, torn between irritation and awe.
“You know what that means,” Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.
Superman sighed. “Alright, where are we going?”
“I want soup.”
“Uh-huh.” Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction.
“… in Saigon.”
“You’ve been watching Bourdain again,” Superman accused.
“It looked like really good soup!” Flash said, defensive.
“Fine,” Superman said, “but I am going to beat your time, and when I do–”
“Beat what, now?” Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations.
“Nothing!” Flash and Superman said at once.
“We were just talking,” Superman said.
“About stuff,” Flash added unnecessarily. “Private, personal, man stuff.”
Wonder Woman’s eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red.
“Okay bye!” Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red.
“Superman?” Wonder Woman asked.
“I should, uh. Hal…”
He wasn’t actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.
She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was.
“Do you want to know what they were talking about.”
“Do you know?” she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.
He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say ‘of course’ – but of course he knew.
“I wouldn’t want to invade his privacy,” Wonder Woman said cautiously.
“He’d tell you if you really asked,” Batman said. “They just like feeling like they have a special thing.”
“I see.” She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. “So what’s the special thing?”
“Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you.”
She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. “Like a date?” she asked.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “More like a stakeout.”
“That could be like a date.” She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in.
“It’s usually not.”
“I’m usually with the kids.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean–”
She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “I would never imply–”
She took her hand back. “I’ll behave,” she assured him.
“You don’t have to,” he said, and she grinned.
“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away.
“It’s a date,” he murmured.
“Why,” Wonder Woman asked, “are we in Florida?”
Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. “Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.”
“I don’t think that explains as much as you think it does,” she said.
Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. “Watch,” he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.
Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?
“Oh! It’s the–” She snapped her fingers, couldn’t remember the word.
“Carts,” Batman supplied.
In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he’d have thrown his hat to the ground, if he’d been wearing one.
“They introduced new carts,” Batman explained. “They don’t fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.”
“They had a system?” she asked, giggling.
“No, here,” he said, tapping her arm to point again. “This is the best part. He’s frustrated.”
“That’s the best part?”
“Watch what he does.”
She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things.
“He’s fixing the cars!” she said, clapping her hands together.
“He’s fixing bad parking jobs,” Batman confirmed. “Because he’s mad.” There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth.
“He moved that one to a different space!”
“Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.”
“How fun.” Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. “Flash is the winner of this contest, then?”
“Is there a prize?”
“Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can’t normally do that.”
“Barry can run anywhere, can’t he?” she asked. “I see no reason he couldn’t run to these places on his own.”
“He doesn’t like being alone in foreign countries,” Batman explained. “It makes him anxious.”
“Oh.” She returned her gaze to the parking lot. “How nice, then, that it all works out.” She frowned. “Is this weird?” she asked. “Spying on our friends like this.”
“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”
“Do you do this often?” she wondered. “Watch people have fun without you?”
Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. “Zatanna taught me a trick.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad.”
Before he could respond, there was a thump.
Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.
He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.
“What are you two doing here?” Clark asked.
“We’re on a date!” Diana said.
“We’re not on a date,” Batman said.
“If you’re not on a date, can you give me a ride?”
“You’re out of our way,” Batman said.
“Nah, just drop me off in Gotham,” Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back.
“You don’t even need a ride,” Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. “You can fly.”
“Yeah, and you can walk, but I don’t see you giving up the Batmobile.” Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. “I’m craving Dimitri’s.”
“You’re too sober for Dimitri’s,” Bruce said.
“I’m always sober. You’re lucky I can tell this wasn’t a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole spying on me thing.”
“Don’t tell Barry we know about your special thing,” Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”
“I won’t,” Clark assured her. “Hey, you know where we should go while we’re here?”
“No,” said Bruce.
“Where?” asked Diana.
“No,” said Bruce.
Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You can’t have come all the way to Florida just to see me,” he coaxed.
“I’m banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I have no other reason to visit Florida.”
I’ve spent most of my life chasing the person I want to be. Because 20-year-old me will have better friends, and 25-year-old me will land a killer job, and 30-year-old me will be madly in love. And me 6 months from now will be skinnier, and me a year from now will be more confident, and me some time from now will be better somehow. So much better. For years, this is what I thought. That if I could just wait it out, everything would get better.
It took me a long time to realize that life doesn’t work that way. Older doesn’t mean happier or easier, and it certainly doesn’t mean better; it just means older. Life isn’t a well plotted screen play, or a checklist, or, God forbid, some waiting room. We have got to stop waiting. Because life isn’t about growing up to be all that we’ve ever wanted; it’s just about growing.
It’s about love, and change, and crying yourself to sleep when it’s all too much. And working at a burger joint, and kissing your best friend even though he might not like you back, and calling your mom every Sunday because you miss her like hell. It’s fights, and promotions, and hospital visits. And then it’s this: another wedding of another one of your college friends, the third one this year, but this time you meet a groomsman who’s just as down on love and you dance all night. And this: he cries when you say “I do.” And this: a kid with your eyes and his dorky ears.
Or maybe not. Maybe it’s this: you write everything, everywhere, all the time, even when the prettier kids make fun of you, and the short teacher with the big nose tells you it’s good. Really good. And this: you’re living in a shoebox, by the skin of your teeth, but there’s a bar across the street that lets you read your poetry, and every time you do, someone in the crowd finally knows what it feels like to be understood. And this: your words being published. Your words. Being bought by people who could be spending their money on anything at all. And you sit in your twin bed where you’ve written your entire novel, a dozen empty coffee mugs still dirty on the nightstand, and you scream until your lungs burn.
It’s all of these things, and bad things, and good things, and the raw realization that it doesn’t get better or worse, it just gets different. It just changes. Always, always changes. And somehow that makes it more wonderful. Because future you may have the friends, and the boy, and the job, but she didn’t get it by waiting around. She is a product of you. Right now, tomorrow, changing and growing every moment that follows. She is kind, and breathing, and beautiful. But she waits for the day she doesn’t have to worry about paying a mortgage bill, and she worries too often about what people think of her. She still doesn’t have it together.
And maybe that’s what I’ve learned after all this time: nobody has it together. We’re all just here, floundering around in pursuit of being something more. Broken, thoughtful creatures with too much time on our hands, desperate for the companionship of someone who reminds us that we are not alone. We don’t have much of anything figured out. Maybe we never will. But more importantly, I think that’s how it’s supposed to be.
The thousands of cheers from around the sold out stadium echoes through the cool night, every single one directed towards Justin. It’s kind of crazy to think about it - that people literally spend hundreds of dollars just to see him from what probably is a shitty seat at the back of an arena, but at the same time its flattering, and by now I bet his rather used to it.
“I don’t know if you guys heard me, Are you guys having fun tonight?!” He repeats into the mic, fiddling with the gold chain bracelet around his hand.
Once again the stadium filled with screams and cheers from the beliebers, this time twice as loud. I watch as Justin let his eyes drift over to the side of the arena, and decides to yell “Top row, you guys having up there?!” And they continue to cheer.
Then the other side, “What about this side, you guys having fun up there?!”
A small smile fell onto his face as he leans back and removes the gum from his mouth muttering, “Alright, as long as were having fun. Just livin’ the moment.”
Then continues to move forward and lightly strum the first notes to Cold Water. A second later his hand moves back to his mouth, placing the gum he removed earlier back inside. I can’t help but roll my eyes at my boyfriends indecisiveness. Once more he continues to strum the guitar before for the third time, removing his hand and looking down onto the chain.
“This damn bracelet is annoying.”
Suddenly moving his wrist towards the guitar and using his bracelet to tap the strings while saying, “You see all this noise, I don’t like that noise. It sounds wrong. I’m not diggin’ it.”
I can’t help but smile. Its so cute when he just speaks his mind, and I can tell the crowd feels the same since I do notice a few people chuckling up the front.
Turning towards the wings of the stage, where Scooter, I and the backstage crew are all standing, he jokingly adds, “See Y/N this is your fault - Giving me this bracelet.”
After fumbling around with it for a while trying to remove it, he grumbles “Stupid bitch.” Under his breath, causing not only me but the crowd to laugh. “One second guys.” He announces.
While still attempting to take off the bracelet I bought him for our 3 year anniversary, he decides to make a witty joke, beginning it with, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”
The crowd actually responded with a whole lot of “Why’s?” And justin immediately respondes with “He wanted to get to the other side.”
A small smile cracks his lips as the crowd chuckles at his terrible joke and even chose to acknowledge how dumb it was by adding, “That was stupid.” then adds “but it was funny.”
Finally giving up, his head shoots up to look around the crowd asking “Does someone wanna come help me get this off my wrist?”
Girls from the crowd shoot up and cheer immediately with there hands in the air. As for Justin who is still sitting and waiting for someone come to his rescue. Scooter waists no time in suddenly beginning to push on my back, motioning me forward.
“Go help him.” He demands with a smirk.
“What?!” My eyes trail down my body, instinctively cringing at my purpose sweatpants and staff hoodie I chose to wear. I looked terrible. “Nah-ah. No way.”
“Who cares about what your wearing, go help him!” He chuckles.
“I care! Plus I don’t wanna just walk out on stage! That’s scary.” I pout but scooter shows no remorse.
“Just go!” He puts his arms on my shoulders and pushes me out onto the stage. This time, I can’t turn back because by the way every one in the crowd has heightened there screams, they’ve definitely seen me.
I sigh and mentally note ‘there no turning back now’ before jogging forward over to the seat Justin was seated on by the edge. Justin’s eyes trail around the stage, looking for the reason the screams in the crowd have increased, and once seeing me making my way over, smiles and extends a hand for me to grab.
I don’t hesitate to reach for his gesture and quickly dash over to remove this bracelet as fast as I can so I can get off the stage as soon as possible. At first, Justin is no help at all. Instead, he begins rubbing my arm and trying to get me to sit and stay next to him. “Justin, stop fidgeting.” I laugh.
Justin shrugs his shoulders as if not having any idea what I was talking about before settling and begins cooperating with the process. This bracelet is so damn stubborn! But after some pull and tug, Justin says, “Pull it from this side.”
“Yeah, and you unclip it from over there.”
The crowd aw’s in affection at our teamwork.
As we work together and finally get the bracelet removed, I jump up in achievement and grab a hold of the bracelet myself. As I’m about to make my way back off stage, Justin grabs my arm and pulls me back pouting. “Stay.”
I chuckle nervously and take a glance at the screaming crowd in anticipation, finally turning back to Justin to shake my head.
“Oh c'mon!” He encourages, grabbing my hip and pulling me towards him. I fall onto the seat beside him, my back pressed against his side while his arm rest around my waist. “Have a little fun. I’ll sing you a nice sooong.” He coo’s as if I was a child. “give you a little kiiiss. We can cuddllle.”
“Shut up.” I chuckle to which Justin smiles.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Meanwhile, the crowd has hit the fan, their cheers going wild in a frenzy of excitement. Justin places his arm around my shoulders while using his hand to hold the right notes on the guitar neck. His other hand strumming lightly at the body.
After commenting about how terribly the guitar is tuned, he finally begins singing Cold water in a soft, melodic tone.
“Everybody gets high sometimes you know…What else can we do when were feelin’ low? - C'mon sing it with me baby!”
I chuckle at his enthusiasm and decide to not ruin the song and just keep my mouth shut, but frozen with a smile.
“So I wanna lay with you told I’m old!” He sang, causing my to furrow my eyebrows in confusion.
“Baby you sang it wrong.” I whispered into his side.
Still strumming the guitar, he looks over at me “Really? I did? Well then how does it go?”
“It goes, ’What else can we do when were feelin’ low? So take a deep breath and let it go -…” I quickly sing as Justin smirks.
I hadn’t realised that justin had actually moved the mic towards me, causing my voice to echo throughout the entire arena, the crowd cheering like crazy in the background while Justin smirked menacingly.
“Hey!” I pouted. “You stuffed the lyrics on purpose!”
“How’d you know?” He chuckled sarcastically. “Well, since you started it you gotta finish. C'mon baby lets go!”
the convention center air is stale and tepid. richard spencer approaches the podium. hundreds of white nationalists wait with bated breath to hear their leader speak. spencer clears his throat.
“there’s a snake…”
his followers assume that he has started off his speech with a poetic metaphor for the creeping threat of multiculturalism. there is a snake haunting america, the snake of white genocide. it was just like spencer to ironically reference Marx’s famous quote to fit an anti-Marxist agenda. how clever.
spencer looks down solemnly.
“…in my boot.”
a hush falls over the crowd.
they finally got him.
I want an AU where Dean is a popular YouTuber who is married to Cas, but no one knows it. Cas is a high school teacher who is kind of awkward, but every once in a while he’ll mention a meme and all of his students are confused wonder how he knows that.
Then one day when he’s teaching he hears a group of girls giggling in the back of the class, so he walks back there and sees them watching one of Dean’s videos. It’s his “never have I ever” video, and right he’s talking about getting a speeding ticket. Right before the girls see Cas he hears one of them say “I wonder what kind of car he drives” so Cas responds, “Do not ever get Dean Winchester started on his car. He will never shut up.” as he takes the phone and walks away, leaving the girls dumbfounded.
Request: Hiiii! Can I request a peter parker x reader where the reader is a badass spy but she’s super shy at peter’s school and doesn’t talk and one day she shows off her badass school and peter falls in love with her plz and thanks 😋
A/N: Aaaaaah, feels good to be back. As I’ve already said, I will try to upload an imagine everyday now that I don’t have anything related to school until late September -probably not going to happen, but hope for at least 3 imagines a week! Hope you enjoy this one!
Peter didn’t know why she acted that way -being an Avenger and an expert in martial arts, he would have expected her not to be shy, but she was the kind of girl who would blush if a person complimented her. He didn’t mind, though. He found the way she would act around everybody in school cute, although he wouldn’t admit it, hoping the crush he had on her would disappear. He was, to say the least, surprised when he first saw her at the Stark Tower. She had tried to turn away when she saw him, but it was too late. Tony Stark had come behind her and there was no way she could escape now, so she had had to tell Peter, her classmate, that she was part of the Avengers. He hadn’t believed it at first -he sat next to her in 3 of his classes, and all he had heard her say was the answers to questions the teachers directly asked her. He couldn’t believe she was part of the team he was aspiring to be part of -she even called Tony Stark by his first name. It had taken him a while to get used to it -silent during school, sassy during training. He found it funny -after all, he was clumsy and got tongue-tied all the time. There were many things he wouldn’t have expected about her, but there was one that would top all the other; and that was the way she handled his bullies a Tuesday morning during school.
‘’Come on, Parker,’’ Flash said, ‘’aren’t you gonna do anything?’’ Peter decided not to answer, knowing it would only make it worse. He kept silent and looked at the ground, trying not to blow up and kick Flash in the face. ‘’What’s the matter with you, dude?’’ Flash asked. ‘’What if I do this?’’ Peter’s backpack was torn off his shoulder and thrown to the ground, and that was when he realized that he was in trouble -his stupid ass hadn’t thought about this and had put his suit at the top of his bag, hoping to get home and not have to open it before being alone. Just as Flash was about to open his backpack, he heard a voice from behind the crowd looking at the bully and the bullied. ‘’What are you doing, asshole?’’ Peter’s head rose, not being able to believe what was going on. [Y/N] made her way through the crowd, an angry look upon her face as she got closer to Flash. ‘’You are asking what is the matter with him,’’ she said, ‘’but what is the matter with you?’’ Flash froze on the spot and [Y/N] took that as a chance to get Peter’s backpack and throw it at him without tearing her gaze off Flash. ‘’Do you think this makes you funny? That being a jackass will gain you popularity?’’ Flash quickly unfroze after hearing her insult him, raising his fist as if to prove he was strong. ‘’Do you want me to hit you?’’ Flash asked her. ‘’If you want to try’’ she told him in a sarcastic voice. He tried throwing a punch at her, this resulting in her quickly grabbing his arm and putting it behind his back, kicking him so that he was kneeling on the floor. She crouched next to him and whispered softly, but loud enough so that the whole crowd would hear. ‘’And now, will you apologize to my friend Peter, or do I have to hit you on the front?’’ Flash tried to get his arm out of her grip with no result, and ended up giving up, looking at Peter with gritted teeth. ‘’I’m sorry, Parker.’’ Peter nodded softly, not being able to say anything else as he was still impressed from what his colleague had done. When the crowd finally dispersed, [Y/N] looked at him and shook her hands, as if to show she had finished everything she had to do. ‘’Ice-cream?’’ she asked Peter. Peter nodded once again, no words coming out of his mouth yet. It was then when he realized the cold, hard truth -this was no crush, and he would have to do something about this strong feeling soon.