#captain allen appreciation week

[alicetallula]

Captain Allen Appreciation Week - September 2020 - DAY 5 : SCARS + DAY 7 : ACCEPTANCE - 27.09.2020

Here is my little contribution to Yuna (formerly @/coffeeyun and @/cadmiumceliac on IG) and @yeemotional Captain Allen Appreciation Week on Instagram

Day 1 : VACATION / Day 2 : COLLEGE AU / Day 3 : COFFEE / Day 4 : WESTERN AU / Day 6 : ALLEN ANDROID AU

Day 5 : SCARS + Day 7 : ACCEPTANCE - Page 1 - 27.09.2020

Done using ink pens, acrylic paint pens and graphite pencils

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

Day 5 : SCARS + Day 7 : ACCEPTANCE - Page 2 - 27.09.2020

Done using ink pens, acrylic paint pens and graphite pencils

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

(reblogs are unavailable until I scan and edit the drawing and put it through Nightshade)

[forabeatofadrum]

Thank you @aroace-genderfluid-sheep​, @artsyunderstudy​ and @captain-aralias​ for the tags. I too hate losing an hour because of daylights savings time.

Well folks, it’s still Kill Your Darlings, thesis edition! I usually try to find six, or ocassionally seven, sentences for the SSS posts. I know it’s not a hard rule, but I like doing it. Unfortunately I had to kill quite some darlings for my thesis, and as a result I have a lot more sentences today, so here we go.

Conforming to the heterosexual order is also referred to as homonormativity (Duggan, 2002). Homonormativity shows that the heterosexual norm is superior and as a result the queer community seeks inclusion and recognition of heterosexual institutions. This is done by disowning anything that is seen as abnormal. This can be done through media representation, among other things. Homonormative representation can lead to a victim role and to assimilation with heterosexual culture (Dhaenens, 2013; Yue, 2014).

This is actually 4 sentences. And yes, “homonormativity” is a weird term. You kind of assume it defines the opposite to heteronormativity, but nope, it is an extension of it.

But next darling that I needed to kill (kinda), is long, so let’s move this under the cut.

To understand how queer representation leads to societal consequences, it is important to look at how queer representation came to be. Queer characters appeared in media from the early 1920s, but new regulations in the 1930s and 1940s made it illegal to show explicit queer characters in America. As a result, a lot of subtext and symbolism was used. Not only that, but these characters were used in a negative way, linking homosexuality to immorality (Rodriguez, 2019). Gay men were the dorky “sissies” (Rodriguez, 2019) and the lesbians were the ugly, sneaky “dykes” (McNicholas Smith, 2020b). Often a storyline for a queer character ended in death, something that still occurs and is known as “Bury Your Gays” (Birchmore & Kettrey, 2022; Bridges, 2018; Waggoner, 2018). From the 1970s, things gradually changed and around the 1990s, the era of modern queer representation arose. Since the 1990s, the number of queer characters has increased and representation is becoming more diverse (McNicholas Smith, 2020b; Rodriguez, 2019).

However, the queer community is still under-represented and limited in the roles in which it is portrayed (Waggoner, 2018; Woods & Hardman, 2022). The queer community is always portrayed in a heteronormative way to show that heterosexuality is the norm (Allen, 2022; Avila-Saavedra, 2009; Dhaenens, 2013; Marwick et al., 2014; Weber & Weeks, 2022). When Ellen Degeneres came out, it was an important moment for the community, but the moment was also criticized, because everything queer about Ellen was taken away for the heterosexual viewer, because queerness is seen as something abnormal (Dow, 2001; McCarthy, 2001). Thus, representation of queer characters must appear very standard, non-political and non-sexual: the characters must adhere to traditional values such as family, monogamy and stability (Avila-Saavedra, 2009), or they are portrayed as a victim to let see that it is easier to be cisgender and straight (Dhaenens, 2013; Rodriguez, 2019).

On the other hand, normalisation is seen as a positive thing. Dhoest and Simons (2011) criticise the idea that simple, standard queer representation is always bad representation. They say that it is wrong and oversimplified to claim that there is only one right way to represent the queer community. Viewers also acknowledge this by stating that even if they do not feel represented by some depictions of queer characters, that those queer characters can still be important to others (McInroy & Craig, 2017). Some studies show that viewers appreciate normalisation (Dhoest & Simons, 2011; Gomillion & Giuliano, 2011). While some viewers like a more abnormal queer representation (Sender, 2011), others even reject this “overkill” and “extreme” queer representation (Dhoest & Simons, 2011).

Yeah, this is a big darling. As I said, I sort of have to kill it? First off, I have to shorten it. But I can save some parts of it and I need to put it in another section of the thesis. Basically, I have to restructure my entire theoretical background, which honestly was valid criticism (I talked about this on Wednesday). But this means that even after I trim it down, I need to be able to split it up and put the relevant parts under “recognition”, “respect” and “identification”.

Unfortunately, I love all of this section, so shortening it is going to be rough. My supervisor also said that this is all too “subjective”, but I am not entirely sure I agree with that criticism. As in, this isn’t my opinion. I put the sources right after it. My supervisor tells me to summarise earlier research and I did and these are the results from those earlier studies. This happens multiple times, because she said that my usage of the terms “positive” “negative” and “better” representation is subjective, but I also take those terms from the sources. Hmmm.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos​ @blurglesmurfklaine​ @coffeegleek​ @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict​ @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme​ @you-remind-me-of-the-babe​ @takitalks​ @justgleekout​ @cerriddwenluna​ @tea-brigade​ @ivelovedhimthroughworse​ @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch​ @confused-bi-queer @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd​ @special-bc-ur-part-of-it​ @larkral​ @chen-chen-chen-again-chen​​ @cutestkilla​​ @nausikaaa​​/@wellbelesbian​​ @martsonmars​​ @facewithoutheart​​ @shrekgogurt​ @boyinjeans​

[yeemotional]

🌺 VACATION 🌺

The first day of Allen Art Week has started! I can’t wait to see what people come up with!

Remember, you can post your creations on Instagram, Twitter and Tumblr

[brokenjardaantech]

captain allen appreciation week 2020 day 1 + 7: vacation + acceptance

notes:

i combined day 1 & 7 as they happen to be the theme of the same story. it's also a prequel to a fic that i haven't written a word yet.

a little bit background since i think things can be confusing:

allen's full name is Louis White Allen. his dad's french and his mom american, though he's raised in alaska. his sister, anna allen, is a commissioned officer in the air force. the siblings speaks both english and french fluently.

sara ryder replaces elijah kamski as the inventor of androids.

this fic is set in september 2038, about a month after connor was first deployed at the phillips' hostage situation.

tags: griefing, family issues, brief mentions of childhood neglect and parentification

ao3 link if that’s what you prefer

-----

To this day, Lou's heart hammers when he sees a call from the military. Last time he received one was ten years ago, and he ended up with more questions than answers, answers that he knows he and his father very likely will not get in their lifetime. Staring at his phone vibrating on the coffee table, Lou debates whether to induce his cats' wrath - one sleeping on his lap and the other he hasn't stopped petting since they finished dinner - by standing up and interrupting their naps. It's not like he's at his full mobility anyways; his cybernetics still needs about half an hour to sync with his nervous system properly and to download the newest software. Whoever the fuck is in charge of calling the family of a soldier who went AWOL in Göttingen can wait.

It seems that the universe has other plans, as the air suddenly becomes charged with static and the phone launches itself towards Lou's chest. The tip of his fingers are numb, a common occurrence after his and his sister's unexplainable outbursts, but he manages to catch the phone before it hits his chest or, heaven forbids, his cat, who is startled awake and promptly returns to sleep after her favourite bed has no intention to move.

He accepts the call. 'Allen speaking. I don't think I have family members in the military anymore.'

'I don't know how many of yours are with us,' the voice from the other end lacks the robotic quality of an android's, so it seems the military is still using humans to contact family members, 'but this concerns your mother, Commander Deborah White. You're the only next of kin we can reach, Mister Allen.'

Lou does sigh. Just as he thinks he can leave her behind after all these years... 'What about her?' Not that he feels strongly that she was gone, as she wasn't quite there for her family to begin with, but something about a Commander going missing on the flagship of a fleet always sits wrong with him; as poor of a mother Deborah White was, a woman with her service record didn't deserve to simply vanish. 'I thought she went MIA more than twenty years ago.'

'She was until a few hours ago. I wish I can break it to you more gently but... we found her. Her remains, at least.'

The beat of his heart suddenly becomes too overwhelming. The air swells with the familiar buzz of static, and it takes all of Lou's self-control to not break everything in the living room with a shattering hazard. There is also the urge to hang up, to pretend that this is just one of those weird dreams he never can remember the details of, because he doesn't need to be burdened with a closure; he wasn't close enough to her to want that, he tells himself. Knowing that she's gone is enough. However, 'How?' is what he says in the end. He closes his eyes, free hand buried in his cat's fur, trying to convince himself that he is doing this for his father.

'Your mother's bones were found in a sealed compartment in the USS Blue Ridge when we were scrapping her. She must've been sitting there for years. Her skull indicates that -'

'Thanks, but I don't think I need to know that,' Lou swallows, willing himself to not think of the implication of an intact skull. It would've been a horrible way to die, sitting in cold seawater for days, feeling her skin rot away before dying of starvation; he'd rather her snap her neck upon impact and go painlessly. 'Anything more?'

'Yes. How would you like to deal with the body?'

Something tickles Lou's chin. When he opens his eyes, he finds the third cat trying to squeeze himself onto his already-occupied lap and purring as if having sensed the human's distress and wanting to soothe him. He recalls how his mother joked that she would probably die at sea and his father's reluctant acceptance of the entire affair; Papa's resignation after he received the news, saying, 'At least she got what she wanted.'

'She spent most of her life at sea,' he replies. No need to rub salt on his father's wounds. 'Let her rest there as well.'

'Very well. If you wish to, a memorial will be held in two months' time. Families of other deceased will attend. You may find support there.'

Support my ass, Lou thinks. It's been twenty-something fucking years. Yet, for some reason, he still promises that he'll consider going before hanging up. His finger hovers over his father's contact afterwards, but remembering that it's midnight in France and that he has a month worth of leave accumulated, he opens his browser instead and starts searching for plane tickets.

----

A month later, Lou finds himself in the commune of Gâvres with a large backpack on his shoulder and missing his cats very dearly. They aren't even his cats, technically; his neighbours keep them as outdoor cats, and Lou, unable to stand the thought of them suffering out in the winter cold of Detroit, took them in, and now they spend more time at his than at their original owners'. Having dropped them off at Hank's - that man takes better care of his pet (now pets) than himself - Lou isn't worried - he doubts his neighbours will even notice that their cats are gone. Emotions are terrible things, however, and the purpose of this trip alone makes it different from all the time he has visited his father before. At least he hasn't just recovered from nearly dying from implant rejection this time.

'Louis?'

Lou turns when he hears his father's voice and the awkward weight reminds him that he hasn't taken off his backpack yet and has been standing in the living room of his father's house staring at nothing for the past few minutes. Not waiting for his son to take it off, Papa Allen crosses the room and embraces Lou, sweat and all. 'How are you?' he asks in French, and when Lou answers truthfully in the same language, 'I missed you,' somehow everything in the world goes right again. Fuck the deviant crisis, fuck the android-infested America that makes his nerves buzz every single waking moment, fuck absent mothers still managing to make a comeback years after she died. He's just Louis Allen, absolutely not a SWAT captain, not the only survivor of the Blast, not the pioneer/guinea pig of CyberLife's groundbreaking cybernetics technology.

He has to let go of his father. 'I hope it's okay. What I did with Mom.'

Papa sighs. 'How about you take off that thing first,' indicating the backpack, 'and settle down for now.'

So Lou walks up the stairs and deposits his backpack in the room designated as his, and, catching sight of the other bed in the room, his legs suddenly feel weak, and he lowers himself, trembling, onto his mattress. Smart, fearless Anna, whose brain always runs - ran - a lot faster than the rest of the world.

Who graduated top of her class and as the Valedictorian of the academy, and subsequently disappeared without a trace.

His left leg twitches. The feeling of something foreign using his body returns, and when he leans forward - with a difficulty that wasn't there before - to take off his sock, it reveals white and grey chassis. A stark reminder that he owes her his life two times over despite her being the younger sibling.

‘How come I’m still alive?’ was the first question he asked after he regained his voice. ‘Ryder threw a fucking building on me.’

‘I dug you out, Lulu,’ replied Anna. ‘Freaky glowy telekinesis finally has its use. I was hungry for hours afterwards.’

At that moment, Lou made the mistake of looking down and seeing his pure white leg. ‘What the hell happened to my leg?’

‘CyberLife’s newest tech.’ As if to demonstrate how he should use his new leg, she gave his feet a poke, and Lou nearly screamed from the sensation. He did not expect to feel anything at all, but apart from the looks, the leg felt...real. ‘Fucking building crushed half your pelvis, your entire left leg and a rib. It’s already minced when I uncovered you, so they need to rebuild everything from scratch. I asked them to add something that can help you control the telekinesis better as well, so we’ll need to test it out later. No more randomly exploding shit. And before you ask, yes, your junk’s unharmed.’

Lou’s coma-addled brain struggled to process the influx of information, and all he got was, ‘I should’ve died.’

Anna hit the break to what seemed to be the beginning of a technical jargon-filled rant. ‘Well yes,’ she gestured just like the meme, ‘but you lived.’

‘No one survives after being crushed by a building, Anna,’ he said, voice rising. Then he asked in French since English felt too raw, ‘Exactly how much tech is in me right now? And how long was I out for? Why did CyberLife choose me?’

She looked away.

‘Anna?’

‘I don’t fucking know, okay?’ she replied in the same language. ‘You were on the brink of death when I dug you out, and there Ryder was, offering to save your life for no cost. You were in a medically-induced coma for one month and was out for reconstruction for another. It took your body two weeks to get used to the cybernetics and...here you are.’

‘Ryder offered,’ Lou said slowly, ‘to save me? As in Sara Ryder?’

‘Yes.’

‘Anna, she was the one who threw the building on me!’

‘I know. One more reason to let her save you.’

‘But you did it anyway.’

‘I did.’

‘Even though you know it’ll probably come back to bite our asses.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘You know the answer, Lulu.’

And Lou has stopped denying that he does a few years ago. Anna joined the Air Force to fly, to be closer to the sky, but he knows that it wasn’t enough; from the way she turned her eyes towards the aurora when they were young, the attention she paid towards all news related to space observation and exploration, to the talks about leaving the wasteland that is known as earth behind and finding a new home in the cosmos - Anna belongs to the abyss of space. The military was simply a stepping stone towards something greater, a greatness that she must be working towards somewhere on this god-forsaken piece of rock.

The place where Lou’s flesh meets his implants aches in anticipation of the storm that will no doubt force them to remain indoors for days. Grinding his teeth in the numbing pain, he uses his hands to put his non-functional left leg onto the bed and lies down sideways with his back towards his sister’s bed, his phone buzzing in his pocket to notify him of an unexpected software error that may take hours to fix. Switching on do-not-disturb, he shoves the offending piece of technology underneath his pillow and loses his fight against jet lag and pain.

----

Lou wakes up cold and hungry. He is covered by a blanket that wasn't there when he fell asleep, so his father must have checked on him when he realized that his son was doing more than putting down his luggage, and the dark sky outside the window almost brings him back again before it flashes.

Then the booming thunder reminds him that it isn't dusk at all.

He successfully rolls over on his other side, which means that his cybernetics are functional once more. Kicking the blanket away, he sits up and grimaces at the taste of his mouth.

He feels better after his regular morning rituals, though the lack of three furry friends harassing him and brushing against his feet is something that he'll need to get used to, and his father is cooking lunch when he reaches the kitchen.

'Morning, Louis,' Papa says as he hands the pan over to his son. 'What did they drag you through to have you sleep for so long?'

Lou is glad that he can use concentrating on not burning his food as an excuse to buy himself a minute. Should he tell his father the truth, or should he avoid talking about work just like many people do during their vacation? 'Things are getting bad in Detroit,' he decides in the end as going on a vacation at one's father's house isn't exactly normal either. 'Androids are breaking their programming and starts having their own thoughts. CyberLife's trying to cover it up, but I've dealt with enough violent deviants - that's what they're calling those androids - to know it's gonna be a problem real soon if they don't solve it now.' A pause to think of how to continue. 'I'm glad you're not in America anymore.'

'It must be exhausting,' is his father's reply, and that's all Lou needs to realize that his father has no idea what he's talking about. Then again, the man moved back to France before androids were a thing, and although they kept in frequent contact, Lou never talked much about his work; the police getting reformed means that SWAT is deployed only when peace is not the option - that means seeing people get hurt or die constantly. Androids aren't really a thing in Europe, so his father never experienced the 'androids taking over everything and making everyone lose their jobs' shit. He won't understand.

'That's why I'm here.'

They lapse into silence as Lou finishes cooking and empties the content of the pan onto two plates. Never one for formality, Papa brings them to the living room, sitting at the corner of a couch while Lou retrieves his plate and fork and curls onto the window sill. At this proximity, he can feel the raindrops hitting the glass as if he is standing in the rain.

Papa clears his throat. 'About your mother, Louis.'

Lou tears his eyes away from the raindrop he's betting on to win. He hastily shoved some eggs into his mouth to buy himself some time to mentally prepare for the conversation. 'What now?'

What he actually says isn't what Lou expected. 'I'm glad about what you did with your mother's body.'

'Her skeleton, you mean,' he replies. 'What's left of it anyways. I don't think they found the whole set.'

'Still,' Papa isn't looking at him. 'That's what she would've wanted. And by I'm glad - I'm not opposed to it.'

'That's it?' Lou turns back towards the rain. 'That wasn't your reaction when they told you that she was MIA.'

'I was young - younger - back then,' a sigh. 'It wasn't fair to you. Or to Anna. Especially to Anna. I'm sorry.'

No it wasn't, Lou wants to say, but - 'I've made peace with it a long time ago. Mom, me and Anna, Alaska; that was all you knew. I... I don't blame you for it.'

He has to close his eyes and press his forehead against the glass. He considers switching to German to further detach his emotions, but then he realizes that nearly everything has fled his mind from disuse. Why does he think spending his vacation with his father right after they discovered that his mother might have died painfully a good idea?

'That's what I thought I'd react when you called me, you know?' Papa says. 'I thought I'd break down. Then I realized that I've moved on and... that's it. Hard not to after more than twenty years.' Even with his vision gone, Lou can still feel his father's gaze on him. 'You've done that for your mother. Have you, for Anna? It's been ten years.'

'Have you, Papa?' Lou asks instead of answering even though he knows his answer. 'Can you stand the thought of your daughter gone as well?'

'After your mother?' the father feeds himself a mouthful of food and swallows. 'Kind of have to.'

'Of course you did. I raised her, not you.'

That is the last thing he says to his father before the storm goes away.

----

Emotionally exhausted, Lou goes to sleep early despite waking up not ten hours ago.

He knows he’s dreaming as soon as he opens the door and discovers his childhood living room behind it. The room is dark, so the lights must have been switched off, and even though it feels like he has smacked his hand all over the wall it’s on, he still can’t find the switch. It does bring him closer to the window, outside where a storm is going on at full force and paints everything white, and although he knows that what he is seeing isn’t real, he dreads the upcoming and necessary shovelling.

The world is suddenly lit up from behind him, followed by the voice of Neil deGrasse Tyson and the clicks of a keyboard. When Lou turns, Anna is there sitting in front of the couch, her brother's homework scattered in a semi-circle around her, and an old, bulky laptop snug between her crossed legs. It should have been a normal day in their house in Anchorage had Anna been a child but not an adult, which is the form Dream Anna is appearing in - she is younger than him by nearly eight years.

‘Where’s the light switch?’ Lou asks, looking around for good measure. ‘As much as you enjoy Cosmos, a documentary about space isn’t sufficient lighting.’

‘Relax,’ says Anna. ‘Eye problems aren’t in our genes.’ Then, waving at the papers around her, ‘Everything’s done. Your teachers didn’t suspect a thing,’ she gets younger and younger following each syllable until her age makes sense, ‘but you asked me to do it on a separate piece of paper, so I did. Feel free to copy directly if you wish.’

That is when Lou realizes that she’s playing games on the notebook, something that looks like a simplified version of Temple Run but set in space. ‘No thanks,’ he says. ‘I’d like to keep the creases on my brain.’ Then he notices that his sister didn’t really answer his question, so he asks again, ‘How am I supposed to switch on the lights?’

‘With your phone,’ is the matter-of-fact reply. ‘Don’t tell me you uninstalled the fucking app for cat pictures.’

‘For one last time, Anna, I don’t download cat pictures.’ And it hits him. ‘Wait, phone? The house isn’t automated when you’re at this age.’

‘Is it?’

Anna stands up and stalks closer to her brother, and she grows and grows and grows until they’re off the same height and she looks... older, how she should look like if she’s alive she’s still here. She is now Major Anna White Allen of the United States Air Force, dressed smartly in her dress uniform except for her cap, which she holds in her right hand. Their surroundings have also changed to that of the Phillips' penthouse terrace, harsh wind whipping around them.

'You aren't real,' Lou breathes, feeling light-headed. ‘You - you’re gone. Just like Mom.’

‘Open your eyes, then. End this early if you want to. Forget that this ever happened. I don’t mind.’

It is followed by a terrifying moment of wakefulness, the images blurring and then regaining clarity as he stays asleep. ‘And Papa wants me to let you go,’ he says with a sad chuckle.

‘Why?’

‘We found what’s left Mom. How long do we need to wait to find what’s left of you?’

‘Why are you talking like I’m dead?’

‘Cause you probably are, like Mom?’

‘I know you think we’re alike,’ an eye roll, ‘but we’re different.’

‘Say you’re not dead. Where the hell are you?’

‘Does it matter?’

A blink. They’re floating in space, Anna dressed in some form of armor, and Lou in normal clothes. He attempts to draw a breath and wakes up choking and crying, the dream completely forgotten save for the faint image of Anna falling towards earth and getting burnt to crisps.

----

A few days later, Lou finds himself walking on the beach with his father. The sky is cloudy and the wind is strong, so it is cool even though it’s September and Lou grew up in Alaska. They started throwing questions back and forth ten minutes into their walk, some of them silly and simple and give them a good laugh, but the others -

‘Answer me honestly, Louis. Do you think Anna’s dead?’

It is easy. ‘No.’

‘Where do you think she is, then?’

Lou’s face suddenly becomes too hot to bear. ‘Does it matter?’

‘If it affects you, yes.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it. She wouldn’t want us to speculate.’

‘But she’s not here, is she? Maybe you’ll feel better after you say it out loud.’

Lou sighs, oh how the turntables… ‘In space, probably.’

‘You’d think we’ll hear about that.’

‘Secret space programs exist, Papa.’

‘Not in America.’

‘I never said it’s an American program,’ Lou says as he kicks a rock away. ‘Do you know what they said when I received the first call from the Air Force? They asked me if Anna has ties with other space agencies even though she’s never been in NASA; she just talked about other countries’ space programs so much that they suspected her having ties with them.’

‘Hmm.’

‘What does that even mean?’

‘You know you won’t see her again, right?’

Lou halts his steps. Anna? Gone forever? ‘Does it matter?’

Papa sighs. ‘You’re in denial, Louis. You didn’t do this with your mother.’

How dare he - ‘Of course I didn’t, she was barely there!’ he has to put a few steps between them. ‘I raised Anna! How do you think that’s even comparable?’

‘I simply don’t want you to live in uncertainty for the rest of your life.’

‘You just don’t know your daughter,’ he counters. ‘She told me she’ll come back.’

‘You know -’

‘You don’t know shit!’

He runs. His lungs and legs are strained when he gets home, his father’s home, but he doesn't stop at that. He packs his stuff (not that there’s much to put back into his backpack), jumps into his rental car, and is back in Brest before he knows what he’s doing. His return flight is next week, so he has a lot of time to kill.

In the end, he takes a trip around the country alone, going to places he both never had time for and, if he’s been there before, misses dearly. He may have forgotten what they’ve talked about, but he remembers Anna visiting him often. The images flee his mind whenever he tries to recall them, but he doesn’t think they’re talking on earth, and he always wishes that he at least remembers some of it.

A few months later, he’ll learn that his speculations are closer to the truth than he thinks. A few months later, Louis Allen will prove his father wrong.

But he doesn’t know that yet. Therefore, after collecting the cats from Hank and unpacking his luggage, he takes all of Anna’s things and puts them into a box, telling himself that it is the first step towards admitting that maybe, it’s a big fucking maybe, he will never see his sister again.

[extra-standard-deviation]

Your face is scratchy. I like it.

Caleb (RK900) has discovered that his boyfriend comes in textures!

A gift for @archadianskies since I am now COMPLETELY obsessed with her SWATverse Allen900 pairing. If you haven’t already read ‘the softness in the steel’ you need to go do that right now. 

An early submission for Captain Allen Appreciation Week, with day 5′s prompt, “Scars.”

[theonsource]

THANK YOU to everyone who participated in GOT THEON WEEK!  It was truly wonderful celebrating Show Theon and Alfie Allen’s incredible portrayal with all of you!

GOT THEON WEEK MAY NEVER DIE!

Though the week is complete, you may still post late under the #gottheonweek tag. Also please let us know if we missed something you posted so that we can reblog it (sometimes the tags don’t work properly!) You can find a list of the fanworks created for this event under the cut:  

ART

Missing Scene Monday/ Unmoored by @st-clements-steps

What Could Have Been by @hard-as-iron

FIC

Home by @st-clements-steps

The Staircase by @owlsinathens

EDITS

Home by @st-clements-steps

The Iron Standard Magazine by @st-clements-steps

It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness by @st-clements-steps. 

It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: by @st-clements-steps

My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel by @st-clements-steps

Please Play Iago by @st-clements-steps

The Staircase Chapter 1 by @owlsinathens

The Staircase Chapter 2 by @owlsinathens

The Staircase Chapter 3 by @owlsinathens

The Staircase Chapter 4 by @owlsinathens

GIFSETS

Alfie Allen Appreciation by @theonsource

Archery by @theonsource

Captain’s Daughter AU by @selkiewife

Family by @ironbornsource

Fix It Friday by @theonsource

Letters Sent and Letters Unsent: Theon and Sansa Parallels by @weirwoodsea

Politics by @theonsource

Theon’s PTSD Storyline by @theonsource

Truly Lost Tuesday by @theonsource

Underrated Moments by @weirwoodsea

Underrated Moments by @selkiewife

What Could Have Been by @weirwoodsea

METAS 

Two Rejections and a Betrayal (But Not the One You Are Thinking) by @alleyskywalker

PERSONAL POSTS

When Your Home Means Death by @selkiewife

[usafphantom2]

RAF highlights two new F-35B in Estonia

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 03/1022 - 17:00 in Military

Two new F-35B Lightning II aircraft were deployed this week at Amari Air Base in Estonia to carry out NATO's enhanced surveillance activity.

The Lightnings of the Marham RAF Base in Norfolk were supported by a small RAF and Royal Navy personnel team composed of Force Protection, engineering, survival equipment, communications and logistics.

“Congratulations to the team for reacting so quickly to reassure the people of Estonia and NATO neighboring partners. This is fundamental as global leaders continue their concentrated efforts to reduce the situation in Ukraine," said Group Captain Phillip Marr, Commander of RAF Marham Station. “The 5th generation fighter is a world-leading aircraft, which uses stealth technology to simultaneously provide electronic warfare, intelligence collection and unparalleled sensor fusion to support a wide spectrum of combat capabilities.

“By being deployed in a very short time, Lightning Force has once again demonstrated its agility and versatility. During 2021, aboard the aircraft carrier HMS Queen Elizabeth, the F-35 Lightning was successfully used in operations in the Middle East and the Far East. This week it is operating from a snowy aerodrome in the Baltic region," added Captain Marr.

Enhanced Surveillance Activity is a NATO-led air policing operation initiated due to events taking place in Ukraine. In addition to their stealth technology, the 5th generation Lightnings carry a variety of air-to-air and air-ground weapons and are capable of several simultaneous missions, such as air defense policing while collecting intelligence.

The Lightning mission joined RAF's Typhoon FGR4 jets, which are also participating in pre-planned improved surveillance activity, contributing even more to Europe's security. Amari Air Base is familiar with the RAF, having been regularly used by its Typhoons in Operation AZOTIZE to carry out NATO's Baltic Air Policing, a collective peacetime mission that protects the integrity of Allied airspace.

"It's fantastic to have the RAF here. For Estonians, having extra aircraft and allied troops is a great support for them, especially with regard to the regional security situation. This increases both deterrence and security, so having extra capacity here is greatly appreciated," said Ross Allen, UK Ambassador to Estonia. “The guarantee that NATO gave was absolutely crucial for Estonians. Having NATO's additional capabilities here provides an extra guarantee and the security that being part of the organization with its Article Five guarantee gives them.

Tags: Military AviationLockheed Martin F-35B Lightning IINATO - Air Policing MissionRAF - Royal Air Force/Real Air Force

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several air events and operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

Cavok Brazil - Digital Tchê Web Creation

[rjhpandapaws]

Hellloo Panda!! One more ask from me for your lovely 160 follower event. Could we please do the “Party” prompt for canon-verse Allen60?

I wanna read about these two getting together at a DPD houseparty. It could be one of Gavin and Tina’s frat-style ragers or it could be one of Fowler’s awkward dinner party/ wine appreciation sessions - whichever is sillier in your opinion hehehe

Thank youuuu✨✨✨

//I love this idea thank you. Also! You can send as many as you would like

Allen found himself watching Sixty quite often. At the precinct or compound he had the ruse of being his superior and he wanted to be sure Sixty didn’t break or break anything else. Now, at a New Years party for the Station there was no reason to be staring at him. Keeping an eye on him maybe, he had a penchant for getting into trouble and he and Gavin liked to fight, but not staring, not like this. Allen didn’t know Sixty’s thoughts on the matter, but liked to consider them friends. They talked often, and while Sixty’s mind tended to focus on work he would indulge Allen in other conversations as well. It was nice. It didn’t explain the staring though. The one thing he could find to blame it on was the change. He was used to seeing Sixty in his Kevlar or his work blacks. He had never seen him in a suit it was unusual. That wasn’t to say that Sixty wasn’t usually put together. Honestly he almost always was. He was the only person who would come out of a raid without a hair out of place; which he supposed was easy when your hair wasn’t much more than a projection. It was just odd to see him trying Allen supposed. Sixty did what made sense, as all androids tended to do he supposed, and usually that meant staying in his work blacks. When the announcement had said work attire was allowed, Allen had been expecting to see him in those, not a full three piece.

The worst of it though was he had been talking with Jeff, he was the host after all, and then had just stopped dead when Sixty had come in and now he was only half paying attention to what was being said. They had gotten work talk out of the way so he was mostly coasting by on small talk, which probably wasn’t a good plan in the long run. He pulled his eyes away from Sixty and turned his attention back to Jeff; he was not inclined to express how much effort that took; only to find his fellow captain looking at him with a knowing expression. “Your neck would probably have a better night if you went over and actually talked to him you know.” He remarked dryly. “Try as you might, its pretty clear he’s a favorite of yours. Tonight isn’t so much a work function as a social one, talking to him won’t hurt anything. “Jeff, I can’t.” Allen protested, “This is different then at the compound. If he’s branching out finally it would be rude to but in.�� “Do it or I will. There are three androids in a building with Gavin, how do you think tonight is going to go?” Jeff said dryly, “I would like it better if one of the events wasn’t a goddamn fist fight.” “So you want me to make a fool of myself to break the tension?” Allen pressed.

“I want you to talk to your friend and maybe circumvent a fight in the process.” Jeff replied, “I never said you had to be honest with him. What you tell him is your business not mine.” “Very helpful Jeff.” Allen remarked, “What I am going to do instead is go outside and have a smoke.” “I thought you quit.” Jeff said as Allen turned for the back deck. “I’m trying to, but it comes and goes.” Allen replied before he stepped outside. He lit his cigarette and leaned back against the house and took a drag as he looked out into the yard. He thought about talking to Sixty, but he didn’t know what to talk about outside of work. Their two weeks always matched up and he didn’t know what Sixty did outside of work, if he did anything at all. It was odd to consider them close without knowing much about him, but someone could only save your life so many times before you felt something, be it a connection or awe. Allen’s issue was that he didn’t know which he was feeling. He knew he enjoyed Sixty’s company, but he didn’t know if it was out of respect or because he liked him on some level more than he should of. At risk of sounding like the android consuming his thoughts, there was just too much unaccounted for to come to a conclusion. Why was it the suit instead of his work blacks that had him questioning this? Was it even the suit, or had that just been the tipping point? He didn’t have answers to any of those and it was infuriating. He should be enjoying the party, not overthinking this, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back inside without some kind of answer to his question.

“So this is where you wandered off to.” Allen startled at the sound of Sixty’s voice. He and Connor sounded very similar, Sixty’s voice just had more of a sarcastic lilt to it than Connor’s did. “I was looking for you.” “The crowd was getting to me and a needed to step out for a bit.” Allen lied, well it wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. “Captain Fowler said you wanted to talk to me about something?” Sixty continued and Allen wanted to back in there and start a fight himself. “Did he?” Allen took another drag from his cigarette, “And he said it was a private matter as well didn’t he.” “He did.” Sixty agreed and Allen saw him nod out of the corner of his eye, “Are we supposed to be investigating someone? Did I miss the briefing, I know I was late but I didn’t think that two minutes and fifteen sec-” “Its a personal matter Six, you didn’t miss anything.” Allen said before he could spiral out of control. “Have I done something wrong?” He sat down and Allen turned to face him letting out another puff of smoke as he did. “No Six. Jeff is just meddling like he always does.” Allen said, “Part of it is because he delights in seeing me miserable and the other part is that he doesn’t want you and Gavin getting into another fight.” Sixty laughed, “That’s fair. We broke something last time. So what’s bothering you?” “Its not so much that something is bothering me, its more that I’m stuck.” Allen elaborated, not missing the way Sixty looked him over for a moment before it dawned on him that Allen hadn’t meant it literally.

“How do you mean?” He asked, “What is it?” “I’ve been thinking about how I really don’t know anything about you outside of work.” Allen admitted, “I consider us friends, but I don’t really know all that much about you.” “There isn’t that much to know. I live at the compound and if I’m not on my two weeks I’m usually in stasis.” Sixty replied without hesitating, “Sometimes I meet up with Nine Hundred and Connor, but most of the time they would rather be with their detectives. But for what its worth I consider us friends as well.” Allen had a lot to unpack in what Sixty said, but he found himself smiling, “So you just stay at the compound? There’s nothing you would rather go do?” “Its easier if I’m there to respond if I’m needed.” Sixty replied, “Not particularly. All the Station events are for social appearances only, and a lot of your culture seems to have that air of just doing it to be observed about it, and that doesn’t interest me.” “So there’s nothing you’ve been curious about?” Allen pushed. “There are somethings, but I can usually learn them from Nine Hundred or Connor.” He replied, “Though I find there is a pleasant hum in my systems whenever you tell me about what you do on your weeks off rotation.” Allen laughed, “My life is nothing glamorous.” “But that’s exactly it. I am unable to get the same rush of survival that you do from working this job as you do so it’s nice to hear how much you enjoyed marathoning a show or catching up on a book.” Sixty explained, “I don’t have a reason to or a way to enjoy the mundane in that same sense because this job isn’t a risk to me. Its something I only get from you and its nice.”

Allen was staring and he knew it. Maybe Jeff had a point, what happened tonight didn’t have to be official. No one outside of them needed to know. He had also come to the conclusion that the suit had only been the breaking point. What he liked was Sixty, and apparently his mouth decided he needed to know that. “I love that about you, you know.” Silas looked at him for a moment, his LED blinked yellow a few times before he smiled, “You do? Here I thought it was the suit. You were staring at me all night.” Allen became aware of several things at once. One of them the blatant reminder that Silas was a top of the line android, and therefor would know if someone was staring at him. He probably heard Jeff talking to him; and perhaps Allen himself hadn’t been as subtle as he would have liked. “Humans have a tradition of kissing the person they plan to spend the year with correct?” Sixty asked, “Do you think the powers at be would be upset if we did that a little early?” “No.” Allen said with a smile, “I don’t think they will.”

@asset35-maya

(Prompt from this list)

[longitudinalwaveme]

Longitudinalwaveme Reviews Some More Old Comics (and One New One), Part 2

Batman #321, “Dreadful Birthday, Dear Joker...!” 

The story opens with Commissioner Gordon receiving an invitation to the Joker’s birthday party. “Black tie optional, funny hats mandatory”. A few seconds later, everyone in police headquarters doubles over laughing, the victims of Joker’s, well, Joker gas. 

Batman is on the scene only a few seconds later, and starts punching out Joker’s goons. Unfortunately, by the time he’s finished doing this, both Joker and Commissioner Gordon have disappeared. 

Eminently Quotable Joker: “Ah---the Batman! What an expected surprise! And what a waste of a perfectly good window! Couldn’t you have used the door?” 

As Joker leaves in his Jokermobile, the police officers tell Batman that the Joker also captured Robin earlier that day (by pretending to be a woman with car problems!) 

Meanwhile, Selina Kyle, Lucius Fox, and Alfred are talking when the Joker bursts in and kidnaps them as well. Notably, Selina mentions that she’s been having terrible headaches. 

Selina Kyle wakes up in a room with Batman; the other kidnapees wake up in the Joker’s “Ha-Hacienda” on his “victim-go-round”. 

Eminently Quotable Joker: “Tomorrow is my birthday, and by way of celebration, I intend to eliminate all you who’ve crossed me, while all of Gotham watches! It’s not exactly the catcher’s mitt I really wanted...but it’s a pretty fair second place! HAHAHAHAHAHA!” 

Hawkman stars in a Hostess cupcake ad! 

The Joker murders one of his own henchman with his “BANG!” flag gun for not laughing at his joke. 

Eminently Quotable Joker (in response to Robin saying “You’re out of your mind!”): “Gloriously so! Isn’t it wonderful?” 

In order to get his audience, the Joker put an ad in the newspaper that states that the “Harlequin Baking Company” will be inviting all of Gotham to  sample its wares at the Seaside Coliseum. AND IT WORKS, because everyone in Gotham has the IQ of turnips. A bazillion people come to the Coliseum to get free food. 

Joker dramatically reveals himself to everyone and explains that he’s going to blow up all the people he hates with a giant cake bomb. Then Batman arrives and offers himself in exchange for the other hostages. This goes exactly how you’d expect it to go, but Batman manages Batman his way out of the trap, saving both himself and all of his friends. 

Joker runs away and jumps into a boat. Batman follows him, they fight for a bit, and then the Joker apparently blows himself up. But he’s not dead, because nothing can kill the Joker. Batman even says so. 

This would’ve made a great episode of B:TAS. 

Batman #322, “Chaos--Coming and Going!” 

And now for something completely different! 

Catwoman looks at a bunch of old newspaper clippings of herself, as the comic hints fairly subtly that she might be unwell (just as her headaches last issue did). 

Meanwhile, a van is delivering issues of the tabloid The Gotham Guardian...when a thrown bundle of newspapers is intercepted by a boomerang! Captain Boomerang is in Gotham City! 

The two men in the van react by promptly trying to run Digger over....only for him to slice their van in half with a boomerang!

Digger yells at them to tell their boss that this was only a warning: the mysterious boss owes him a million dollars, and he wants it in 24 hours or else. 

Then Batman shows up out of nowhere and he and Boomerang get into a fight. Digger distracts Batman by using his exploding boomerang to damage a nearby building. This causes some rubble to fall on one of the drivers. Batman goes to rescue him, and Digger vanishes. 

Green Arrow stars in a Hostess fruit pie ad! 

Batman talks to Alfred about Captain Boomerang, telling him to ask Lucius Fox to find out who owns the Guardian, since he’s probably Boomerang’s next target. He also refuses to call the Flash in for help. “The night I can’t handle a punk like Boomerang is the night I hang up my cowl!” 

Catwoman goes to a doctor and it’s confirmed that she is, in fact, dying. She has less than a month to live and the only cure is some Egyptian herbs that have been lost to time. 

Meanwhile, Captain Boomerang lets us know that he hates Gotham. “Lor’, but I hate this cronky town! I never would’ve come her from Central City if it wasn’t for my million quid!” 

Apparently, Captain Boomerang set up a retirment fund for himself and is ticked off that has money was subsequently stolen. 

“It’s really rum--downright ironic! The one time I play the game by their rules--and it’s me who gets taken for a sucker! Well, nobody crosses “Digger” Harkness--and gets away with it intact!” That’s our Digger! 

Also, he has a giant boomerang hidden under a tarp. 

Catwoman goes to the museum to see a display about cats...and conveniently, some ancient Egyptian medicinal herbs are there. Catwoman determines to take them so she can save herself. 

Batman asks the most Irish Irishman to ever walk the pages of the comic book about where he might be able to find Captain Boomerang, but he hasn’t heard anything. Then Alfred calls Batman and tells him that Lucius has discovered that the Gotham Guardian is owned by a corporation which serves as a front for a guy named Gregorian Falstaff. 

The man in question is eating dinner at a hotel when he is rudely interrupted by Captain Boomerang, who knocks out Falstaff’s bodyguard and demands his money. Falstaff plays dumb, claiming that the whole thing was an unfortunate accident and offering to write him a check. Boomerang insists that it’s cash or nothing (since he doesn’t trust Falstaff). Then Batman shows up, and Digger throws a smoke bomb boomerang that distracts Batman long enough for him to knock him out with another boomerang. 

“You gave it a fair dinkum try, cobber-but fair ain’t enough when  you’re dealin’ with the likes of me!’” Didgeridoo! Crikey! Steve Irwin! Can you tell I’m Australian yet? 

Selina Kyle tries to call Bruce but can’t get ahold of him, so she decides to take matters into her own hands and pulls out her Catwoman costume. 

When Batman comes to, he’s been tied to the giant boomerang. 

“Nothin’ permanent, mate--you’re simply tied to my giant rocket-powered boomerang! Only Flash’s super-speed saved him from the original--and without super-powers you’ll never escape this improved version!” So...which one of the giant boomerangs you used to launch the Flash into space are we talking about here, Digger? Because there’ve been at least four at this point. 

Boomerang launches the boomerang into the air and it explodes. Digger is naturally convinced that he’s killed Batman, only for Batman to promptly prove him wrong by showing up alive and well. “Nobody could possibly survive a flight on my Doomerang!” Oh, Digger...

Batman explains that he survived by “maneuvering my bonds toward the Doomerang’s rocket-jets--and the ignition-flames freed me! Then I simply slipped away under the cover of all that smoke before the Doomerang took off!” I love that Batman also calls the thing a Doomerang (with a totally straight face, mind you.) 

Then Digger throws a boomerang at Batman at the same time Batman throws a Batarang at him. But because Batman is Batman, he wins the boomerang duel and knocks Digger out. Way to take away Digger’s only accomplishment there, Batman. It’s like if Superman won any of his races against the Flash. 

Batman decides to investigate Falstaff. 

Meanwhile, at the museum, someone who looks like Catwoman is stealing one of the exhibits....

Flash #286, “The Color Schemes of the Rainbow Raider”

This issue introduces the greatest villain of all time...the dreaded Rainbow Raider! 

After a long day at work, Barry Allen is heading home...only for an alarm to go off at the Centrex Art Museum! Barry has to promptly go into action as the Flash as Barry thinks about how tired he is. Apparently, his new police chief, Darryl Frye, has made him work overtime three times in one week alone. 

Suddenly, a rainbow appears, bewildering Barry, as it hasn’t rained for the past week. Barry runs inside the museum to find the guards crying inexplicably. Barry deduces that the thief has been altering their emotions and realizes that this is probably not one of his established Rogues. 

Sure enough, he soon comes face-to-face with the Rainbow Raider!

“Welcome, Flash! I didn’t think you and I would be meeting so soon...but sooner or later we were bound to clash! Allow me to introduce myself! I am the Rainbow Raider---the most colorful criminal this city’s ever seen!” Oh, Roy. You’re so amazingly silly, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Roy shoots a beam of blue light at Barry, who somehow deduces that this was what enabled him to mess with the emotions of the guards. Barry dodges the blast of blue light, but it hit and knocked out by a blast of black light. 

The police are suitably baffled by the Rainbow Raider, who, incidentally, signed his crime scene with “The Rainbow Raider was here!” That’s amazing. 

Meanwhile, the Flash runs home, for the Rainbow Raider has...uh....sucked all of the color out of his body! Somehow! Wha? 

Meanwhile, in a mobile trailer, Roy is gloating to himself. “Now I know I’m ready for the big leagues--on a par with seasoned criminals like Captain Cold and Mirror Master!” Uh...sure, Roy. 

Batman and Catman star in a Hostess cupcake ad! 

“Roy G. Bivolo is compelled by higher motivations--like art appreciation!” 

Roy reveals that he suffers from achromotopsia, a rare form of colorblindness that means he sees the world entirely in greyscale. This fact apparently scuppered his burgeoning artistic career, because the art critics of Central City have never heard of black-and-white artwork even though it totally exists. 

Also, Roy’s dad was apparently a, quote, “leading world-renowned optometrist”, and he tried to create goggles that would allow Roy to see color. He passed away shortly after Roy turned 21; having finished the googles just days before. 

When Roy tested them a few weeks later, he found that they hadn’t cured his colorblindness...but that they could shoot out “bands of multi-colored solid light particles that I could literally “ride” through the sky”. Roy then uses his father’s notes to unlock even more abilities with his goggles. Eventually, his mother also passed away, and Roy decided to turn to crime. 

“Since I was robbed of a brilliant art career as a painter--I think it’s only fitting that I rob others....rob them of the pleasure they’ve derived all these years from priceless works of art I myself have never been able to enjoy! If I can’t see them in all their glory---then neither will anyone else!” Roy...that’s insane. 

Barry Allen fails in his attempt to flirt with Fiona Webb, then exposits about pseudoscience. “The color black appears black because it absorbs the light waves of all other colors...without reflecting them! Those black beams the Rainbow Raider enveloped me with must’ve had a similar effect--saturating my body with radiation that prevents me from reflecting any and all light-waves...leaving me totally colorless!” SCIENCE! 

Barry uses makeup and hair day to make himself look normal. As a result, he’s 20 minutes late to work and gets chewed out by his boss. 

Also: “The unnatural inner-vibrations from this color drain are steadily sapping more and more energy from my molecules by the minute!” More SCIENCE! 

Barry is about to get to work when he hears about the opening of the Skytop Art Gallery. Assuming that this would be an ideal target for the Rainbow Raider, he goes into action as the Flash. 

Roy has created a distraction by using his emotional manipulation powers to get all of the art patrons to fight each other while he escapes. Barry runs up a building and onto Rainbow Raider’s rainbow...whereupon Raider shoots a blinding light at him, causin him to slip off the rainbow and almost fall to his doom. Luckily, his ability to vibrate through anything saves his life, as he manages to vibrate through a green car he was about to land on. 

Barry then finds that he’s turned totally green. ‘I must’ve been vibrating on the precise wavelength of the color green when I passed through this heap--somehow allowing me to regain my capacity to absorb green light-waves!” SCIENCE! He then starts running through vehicles of other colors to regain his capacity to absorb those light-waves, too. Since Raider is colorblind, he can’t figure out what the Flash is up to. 

When Raider takes one last blast at the Flash, the effects restore him to normal, and Flash is able to make quick work of the Rainbow Raider. 

I love the Rainbow Raider so much.

[alicetallula]

Captain Allen Appreciation Week - September 2020 - Day 2 : COLLEGE AU - 22.09.2020

Here is my little contribution to Yuna’s (formerly @/coffeeyun and @/cadmiumceliac on IG) and @yeemotional’s Captain Allen Appreciation Week on Instagram

Day 1 : VACATION / Day 3 : COFFEE / Day 4 : WESTERN AU / Day 6 : ALLEN ANDROID AU / DAY 5 : SCARS + DAY 7 : ACCEPTANCE

Day 2 : COLLEGE AU - 22.09.2020

For College AU I decided to go with Criminal Profiling Professor Allen with lovestruck student Sixty !

Done using ink pens and acrylic paint pens

AO3 post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

(reblogs are unavailable until I scan and edit the drawing and put it through Nightshade)

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

( gosh I want so many secrets, I want to send them all ) 🙃 🍎 ❤️ 🖤 - ( for both please )

🙃- For a lighter, slightly embarrassing secret

Android: Connor has had to go to the hospital on three separate occasions to have his systems flushed after eating some form of human food. 

Human: Drunk Connor is an asshole to sober Connor. One time, he woke up handcuffed to the metal railing in front of his apartment door. Apparently, Drunk Connor had dropped his keys when he went to unlock his door and couldn’t find them, so he handcuffed himself so he wouldn’t wander off. It took him over an hour to finally reach his fallen keys and find the handcuff keys on them. 

🍎- For something they secretly wish did exist

Android: A way to delete hardwired codes from his mind without risking everything that he is. 

Human: A way to rewrite memories. 

❤️- For a secret crush

Both: Captain Allen. He takes good care of his body and is a good leader. Plus, his ass looks nice in his SWAT gear. Even android Connor can appreciate the aesthetic of the man. 

🖤- For something they secretly wish they could do with your muse

Android: Travel. Thomas is such a man of the world, Connor wishes he could experience that. Nothing permanent, as he still has obligations, but taking vacations to places he has never been. He’s also afraid to and will find a dozen excuses as to why they shouldn't go. Especially if they have to get on a plane. (He’ll probably need to be forced into stasis to keep him from self-destructing.)

Human: Be with him more. Experience life outside the DPD with him. Relearn what it’s like to have a life before he threw his entire being into his career. 

Bonus (All you say? *v*):

🌧- For a heavy, emotional secret

Android: Connor wishes he could exchange his life for all the androids that died while trapped at Jericho when it fell. He imagines the struggle they had faced as it fell, the fear. They thought they were safe, and Connor had broken that. He had inadvertently helped the FBI find them. Even in his rebuilt version of the Zen Garden, under the pond, are android bodies, staring up at him accusingly. They have dragged him under in some of his nightmares. 

Human: Connor believes he is a curse. He only causes pain to those who get close to him. It keeps him from forming bonds and causes him to push those he cares about away. He never says it, but he believes it was his fault that Cole is dead. He cursed the people he cared about, and they paid a high price for it. 

🌟- For a secret wish or desire of theirs

Android: He wishes that the revolution wasn’t necessary. That the humans didn’t feel the need to use force against them. That they were accepted and the laws were changed to include them, rather than struggle to keep making new laws. He wishes the world wasn’t so full of hate. 

Human: That people weren’t so ugly to each other. Life is so hard, and he doesn’t understand why people feel the need to make it harder when a few words can make it better. Why is it so hard to offer a helping hand instead of a closed fist? 

🍏- For something they secretly wish didn’t exist

Both: All the hate people have for what is not like them. 

📲- Talk about someone/something you dislike, but only pretend to like

Android: Fishing. Hank really likes fishing, but Connor can’t stay still for long. When Hank falls asleep, Connor goes for a swim, often scaring the shit out of Hank if the water is clear enough, walking along the bottom of the lake with his thermoregulator turned up, the cold around him keeping him safe from any complications. Of course, what really terrifies Hank is when he comes back to the surface and purges all the water from his artificial lungs that he had used to weigh himself down. He doesn’t like it either, but it’s worth it. 

Human: Cars. As a kid, it was obvious Hank really liked cars, often working on his own. Connor, in an effort to appease his new dad, studied hard on the various vehicles that Hank seemed to particularly enjoy, watching as he did minor repair work. He wasn’t used to not having the strict structure that he had with Amanda, always seeking approval and terrified of punishment. Hank never gave him anything to study, so he found things on his own. In actuality, Connor really doesn’t have the same affinity towards vehicles that his dad has, but he enjoys the bond it created. 

👁‍🗨- Talk about someone/something you like, but pretend to dislike

Android: When someone challenges him. Most of the time, he pretends not to like it, but there is a certain feeling that he gets when he explains why the person is wrong that he likes. However, if the action is repeated, or the person can’t see the logic, it starts to anger him and it can turn to resentment. 

Human: Donuts. They’re unhealthy and just an overall stereotype for his profession. However, he can’t help but look at a fresh box of donuts longingly. 

🍻- For something bad/mischievous you did as a child or teen that your parents don’t know about

Human: It wasn’t necessarily bad, but it wasn’t allowed. He would sneak food. He had to be really careful about what he took, only taking a few small sips from a carton of juice or taking grapes only after Amanda had already opened them and pulled some from the vine. It’s probably the only reason he’s survived. 

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about

Android: Connor bites his left pointer finger when stressed. Outside stimulus forces his mind to focus on the pain rather than the chaos in his head. As a result, it doesn’t bend as well as the rest of his fingers and is permanently damaged. It’s replaceable, of course, but there’s no point if he’s just going to do it again. 

Human: This one is only mentioned briefly once, but if Connor doesn’t finish his cigarette for some reason, he puts it out by swiping it across the bottom of his palm of his left hand. It started as a way of self-harm in high school, but now it developed into a habit. The skin there is scarred and callous, and he barely feels it anymore. 

💃- For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others

Android: Connor likes to dance and has mastered several easily, thanks in part to both his adaptability and combat protocols. It started with Capoeira and quickly evolved from there. He even knows several seductive dances, such as pole-dancing and belly-dancing. It's something he keeps secret, usually dancing really late at night. 

Human: Connor can play the piano and knows the basics of the violin. He hates them and knows if anyone found out, they would ask him to play something. There was a time he had to go undercover at a lounge, and they asked him if he knew how to play and he said no. He had to work as a busboy/dishwasher for the entire week. 

🏹- For a talent they wish they had

Both: Cooking

👻- For something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

Android: Blizzards. He gives off the impression that he wouldn’t mind them, given how much he loves snow, but the second he hears that one is headed for the area, his demeanor changes and he puts in a request for the time off. 

Human: Roses. What kind of person is scared of roses. Well, he is. They dictated his life for the longest time. He was supposed to prune them with shears that couldn’t even cut through a slice of bread. thorns tearing into his skin as he worked on keeping them healthy, removing weeds. If any of them were damaged or he did a lousy job, it was the ‘roses’ choice’ when he would be allowed to eat again. Amanda would make him actually ask them if he was allowed a meal, with Amanda translating for them. 

☢️- For a controversy or scandal they have been able to keep mostly under wraps

Android: Well, Connor knows about Thomas’s red ice, does that count?

Human: Connor lets petty crimes that hurt no one go. He gives people warnings or things like that, but there’s no reason to enforce a law that is there simply to make things harder for the average person.

🐇- For a secret item they keep (stuffed animal, comfort object, etc)

Android: It’s not really a secret, but no one knows about his six-foot long shark that he cuddles with, often keeping it pressed against the back of the bed under his pillows.

Human: Connor made the fox, but before that, He also has a plush shark that Hank bought him as a kid.

📒- For a secret journal/diary they keep (Bonus: Share an entry from it!)

Android:  30.11.2038: Another “Nightmare”. Woke up the Lieutenant again. Decided not to enter stasis anymore.

Human: Connor doesn’t keep a journal. He was told to, but he never got into the habit of writing down his thoughts.

📔- For a secret sketchbook they keep (Bonus: Share a sketch or doodle within it!)

Android:

He seen this dog at the park and the two colored eyes reminded him of Markus. 

Human:

He was bored, doodling on a notepad. 

[yeemotional]

Just a reminder for those taking part in Allen Art Week, plus some reference pictures for those who need them!

I can't wait to see what people come up with next week! 💙🙈

Also remember to share your work with cadmiumceliac on Instagram (if you have it) who is my partner in crime for this project, and is very excited to see your work as well haha ✨👀

[gaysie]

you mentioned kombotis a while ago and i wanted to ask if youve read their extremely long extreeemely detailed destiel fic set in the literal actual ww2 normandy invasion campaign. yes jack allen made me appreciate poetry again but this one makes me want to ask a 98 year old vet if he had as many interpersonal issues with his platoon leaders as my good friend castiel

99 whiskey has been sitting in my ibooks for weeks but like i can’t bring myself to open it ive read too much captain america’s longfic in my day i don’t think i can reopen old wounds

[archadianskies]

Captain Allen Appreciation Week Day 3: Coffee

→ part of A/9 on Ao3

They know his name is David and his usual order is a venti triple shot long black with a pump of caramel. That’s it, that’s all they officially know about him. 

Physically they know he has olive green eyes, a Clark Kent jawline and though he has dark hair when he’s sporting a little weekend scruff there’s some salt and pepper going on. If he’s got time to stay and read, he sports a pair of reading glasses. 

His manners are impeccable, he knows all their names and always has a dashing smile for them. It’s no surprise everyone’s a little bit in love with David.

“You’ve been here a month now, and you’ve served him what, at least ten times?”

“Oh she wishes she’d served him-”

“Shut up!” 

“What do you think he does for a living?” Her manager prompts, arms crossed over his chest as he nods in David’s direction, the man walking across their line of sight outside before turning the corner.

“College professor?” She hazards a guess. “He seems like a guy who teaches Humanities. Or Literature.”

“I think he’s a personal trainer. You haven’t been here that long but in the summer? You’re going to see him come in a shirt and honey are you in for a treat.” Her colleague snorts back a laugh.

“Lachlan thinks he’s either an author or a journalist.” Her manager adds, before shrugging. “I think he’s a CIA agent. He gives off those ‘harmless but not actually harmless’ vibes. Plus he pays great attention to detail; remembers all our names, remembers even the most boring tidbits we mention.”

“He could just be really nice!” She protests. 

“Or both. I’d love for it to be both.” 

*~*

It’s a beautiful day in late Spring, with the sun out and the breeze finally lacking Winter’s chill. She sees David walk by the window and she can’t help but smooth her apron and thank her luck she’s the one closest to the registers. Pivoting briefly to hand her colleague a spare tea towel, she turns back to find him in front of her.

“Hi David.” 

“Good morning Kelly.” He smiles and she feels her heart leap into her throat. Oh god. Weekend scruff. Reading glasses in the breast-pocket of his button down. “I’ll have the usual, please.”

“Of course sir.” She rings up the amount and plucks up a venti cup, scribbling down the side before reaching over to pass it down the line.

“Will you be a good girl for daddy?” His tone is stern, his voice an octave lower. Heat pools in her cheeks.

“Uh-um- yes?” She squeaks, absolutely certain she’s bright red. When she turns back he’s holding a puppy in his arms. Oh god. Is there an option for employee termination to be literal?

“This is Rosie.” David announces with a proud grin. 

“O-oh! Oh!” She gasps, reaching across to let the pup sniff her fingers before mussing between her ears fondly. “German Shepherd?”

“Yes, ten weeks old.” He crinkles his nose as Rosie licks his chin, laughing softly and holding her a little lower so she can’t reach. “My baby girl.”

“She’s adorable!” Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and is there anything hotter than a hot guy with a cute puppy? She’s yet to discover otherwise. He taps his phone to the terminal before heading to the other end of the counter to wait for his coffee, blissfully unaware a good portion of the cafe is making desperate heart eyes at him. 

A shame she’s not an android like Lachlan and can’t record this memory and replay it over and over whenever she wants. That’s alright. She looks over and Lachlan winks at her discreetly. He’ll send her the file later, surely. It’s what good co-workers do, right? 

“Here you go David, and a little something for Rosie too.” The android smiles, offering a small espresso cup with lactose-free milk foam. 

“Look baby girl, something for you too.” David gasps as Rosie wriggles excitedly in his arms. “Thanks Lachlan.”

“Not at all, sir. This is actually a bribe.” Lachlan grins, laughing in delight as Rosie sticks her nose into the small cup. “In the hopes little Rosie accompanies you often.”

“Oh you don’t need to bribe me for that to happen.” David laughs, kissing the top of the pup’s head as she licks her mouth clumsily to try and clean the last of the foam away. His phone buzzes insistently in his pocket, and he sets Rosie down by his feet, leash looped around his wrist as he answers the call. 

“Allen.” David Allen? Is Allen a surname? His second name? His first, but he prefers his second name David? “On my way.” His whole expression changes and it seems like an entirely different person is standing there. “Thanks again, guys.” David manages, smile small and nowhere near as bright as he scoops up Rosie, grabs his cup and hurries out of the store. 

“CIA agent it is.” Her manager whistles low as they watch David vanish around the corner.

*~*~*

Captain Allen is known for his firm, unwavering leadership, his strict work ethos, and his loyalty to his team. He is known to be a self-sufficient man, neat and orderly, with a wardrobe to match. The man who rushes into Central Station certainly looks nothing like the Captain Allen she is accustomed to, not with the way he’s dressed in a Henley and dark jeans, nor the stubble on his cheeks and jawline, and certainly not the puppy tucked under one arm.

“Stephanie I’m so sorry I just got called in, can you mind Rosie until we’re back? Has Caleb arrived?” He looks harried, hair wind-tousled and she figures if he were an android his LED would be spinning yellow. She leans over the counter to accept the squirming German Shepherd, giggling when she nips at her chin. “Of course, Captain. Caleb arrived three minutes ago and is gearing up with the others.”

“Thank you.” He nods, darting through the security gates.

“Well now little Miss Rosie.”  Stephanie sits the pup on her lap. “Looks like you’re stuck here with us girls!”

*~*

Of course he’s called in when he made plans to have no plans at all. Introduce Rosie to his local Starbucks, buy a coffee and go for a walk. That’s it. The rest of the day would’ve involved whatever crossed his mind until Caleb was to meet with him in the early afternoon. He got as far as introducing Rosie and buying a coffee, which he’d then downed in record time in the taxi. So much for a relaxing morning. 

“Rosie?” Caleb frowns, pausing as he pulls the chest plate over his head. 

“With Stephanie until we get back.” David opens his locker beside him, tugging the shirt off over his head and reaching for the underarmour inside. “So much for our nice day huh?”

“It can still be nice.” The RK900 says lightly, and David can feel his eyes on him, watching him shuck off the jeans in favour of pulling on the standard black trousers. “Just postponed for a little while.”

“We owe Steph a large Tearium when we get back.” David says, knowing the android will note that as an objective. 

“And the two of us can have a proper drink at the cafe afterward.” Caleb nods with a small smile. “Without rushing.”

“Alright.” David sighs, already longing for that soft, lazy promised afternoon as he smooths his hair back in preparation for his helmet. “Alright everyone let’s get this shitshow over with.”

[coeurdastronaute]

Either/Or: WWC

“Jess?” 

“Yes, Ms. Luthor?” 

Squinting behind her glasses, the CEO peered at her schedule on her computer screen and furrowed as she read, but failed to comprehend the words under the seven o’clock time slot that seemed to take up majority of her evening. There should have been nothing there. She carefully kept track of every second, trusted her secretary to do the same, and suddenly, she had to be somewhere on a night when she could have been home. 

Leaning back in her chair, Lena Luthor scrolled and clicked on the offending task highlighted in a deep forest green. National City FC. 

National City Fire Council?

National City Financial Committee?

National City Freedom Conference?

“What the hell is National City FC, and why is it taking up 3 hours of my evening?” 

“The team you had us buy a few months ago. It’s their home opener.” the secretary explained, filing a few things in the drawer in the closet in Lena’s office. 

She didn’t bat an eye at such questions. It was her job to know those things, to take care of things, like when her boss came in with a circled article from her ride into the office, and told Jess to fix it. This somehow included a struggling council measure to bring another sports team to the city and help the underfunded women’s program develop. 

There were no follow up questions to how it got done, as Lena was immediately onto the next thing, but for Jess, there were hours spent meeting with officials and the in-house entertainment division to see how accumulating a women’s soccer team would diversify their holdings. This meant weeks pouring over spreadsheets and crunching numbers until the small team that was created for just this singular task, that again, came from a circled three inches of newspaper print, developed a plan to make it a success. 

“What did I do?” Lena asked, looking up from her computer as her assistant continued her work of pulling and rearranging to prepare for end of month reports. 

“You gave me an article about how the city wanted a team but couldn’t drum up the money to commit, and they were going to lose the bid for an expansion team.” 

“That sounds somewhat familiar.”

“You said that expansion and bringing professionals into the city was how we continued to grow.” 

“I’m sure I did.” 

Quickly, Lena googled the team and found a few headlines praising the companies initiative to help grown equality within the sport, to bring jobs and joy to the community, to expand programs for children and sports, to bring a championship to the city. It was all news to her but still made her smile. 

“I put together a team who did everything from polling to scouting locations to permits and projections,” Jess explained as Lena scrolled. “You helped pick out the colors and design the logo.” 

“I did?” 

“No,” she chuckled. “I did all of that. It’s been my pet project. I played in college, you know.” 

The webpage was green, deep and royal. A white logo with the crest of the city and an outline of a roaring bear over it sat in the corner. The banner had the team picture with rows of tough and smiling girls looking back. A schedule followed and links to tickets. It was an actual thing. 

“You did all of this?” 

“I delegated,” Jess explained, handing over a folder. “Take a look at this so you have your talking points.”

“This got past the board?” 

“A bit of community outreach, your name on the field, the logo on the jerseys, community services, tax breaks, and city-wide gratitude. It went a long way, and was a sound investment, set to see returns as early as six years.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want that promotion?” 

“I’ll just take another raise,” the secretary smiled as her boss looked over the papers in the folder. 

“This still doesn’t explain why it’s on my schedule though,” Lena decided, closing it and laying it back on her desk. 

“It’s the inaugural game. You have to go show your support.” 

“I don’t like sports,” she reminded her. “That’s why I created an entire division of this company to manage such things.” 

“You wanted more photo ops, and I’m creating that moment for you.” 

Jess was right, which was something Lena still wasn’t particularly fond of admitting. Ever since her brother’s implosion and her ascendence to help the company two years ago, it felt as if her full-time job wasn’t being a CEO but rather a figure head looking to make people believe that she was just as strong, just as capable, just as, if not moreso, credible as the leader of a multi-billion dollar organization. 

Lena looked back at the file on her desk and sighed, invariably giving in. 

“Fine, but I’m not going to wear a jer--”

Smiling, Jess held up her personal jersey with DANVERS printed in big white letters over the number eleven. She wiggled her eyebrows and tried to hide her amusement. 

“It’s to support the team.” 

“That’s not even my name.” 

“You don’t play for them, just own the team. You don’t get your own name on it.” 

“I couldn’t get a custom one? I don’t even know who that is.” 

“This is your star player, Kara Danvers. Got her in the expansion draft. She’s amazing. Led the league in scoring the past three years, only been in it for four.” 

“This is soccer, right?” 

With a heavy sigh, Jess tossed the jersey across the desk. 

“Keep reading. I’ll have the car here at six.” 

Lena smiled to herself as she held up the jersey, happy to have her name on it anyway with the logo of the rebranded L Corp. She never got used to seeing that, her accomplishments come to fruition. Somehow she accidentally bought a sports team, and though she wasn’t thrilled about having to spend her evening not at home on the couch, she was excited to see what her assistant created, excited to have done something for the city she grew to call home. 

Not the biggest sports fan on the planet, Lena looked back at the screen with the team on it and found number eleven and gulped slightly, deciding that sports couldn’t be that bad. 

XXXXXXXXX

The music blasted in the headphones, so loudly that nothing else could be heard, not even a thundering heartbeat or heavy breathing. The world and its honks and horns and yelling and voices and city chatter completely disappeared to nothing outside of the stadium, outside of the pitch of fresh grass. 

Before the first fan would be welcomed, before they thrust open the grates on the concession stands, before the lights were tested and left on, a single player began her routine, sitting in the stands alone and taking in the world around her, as soon it would be chaos-- screaming people on the sidelines, lines calling changes and plays in the heat of the moment, chirping from those coming to disrupt her home. The soccer player’s head nodded to the beat of the song as she prepared, washing the rest of it away and focusing, centering herself. 

The stadium was beginning to breathe again, with works appearing, setting up for the sell-out crowd. By the time the first few teammates began to filter out to warm up, Kara was warming up, making her way from side to side with a light jog, stretching muscles and coming back from her solitary centering. 

“Are you getting nervous yet?” Nia asked as she sat on the ground, working hamstrings into something more tenable. 

“I’m getting excited,” Kara corrected. 

She was a leader on the team, and she took the responsibility very seriously. That included measuring her responses for the younger teammates, making sure that she was always on. It also meant that she played her heart out and left every ounce of energy on the field. She was going to lead the league again. She was going to keep her national team spot. She was going to accomplish great things, just as her parents always told her. 

“I’m getting nervous,” her teammate confessed. “Sarah Lance is a terrifying defender. And Foster is a sniper.” 

“But you’re Nia Nal,” Kara smiled, helping to pull her goaltender up. She didn’t let her escape though. She held her shoulders in her hands and gave her an intense look. “You are a brick wall. You are unstoppable. You are a fortress. That’s your goal, and no one is going to score today.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t think you do,” the captain disagreed, grinning a little wider now. “Hey, Allen, tell Nal what she is.” 

From over her shoulder another teammate immediately chimed in. 

“Nia Nal is a force to be reckoned with! She’s not allowing one point this entire year.” 

“See that?” Kara grinned, turning back to her goalie. “Everyone already knows it.” 

“I know,” Nia nodded, a little less worried and a little more serious. 

“Good. Let’s run some drills. I’m no Foster, but I’ll try to make it hard for you.” 

Leadership was a role Kara felt both thrust upon her and eager taken up, as if it were second nature. She didn’t think about it, not directly, but often her time was spent planning her moves within the team to make them successful. It showed on the field. 

On the pitch though, Kara was completely untouchable. She was focused on her goals and she was ready for anything. She was the captain, the heart, the everything for her team, and she gave her all because for so long it was all she had. 

“Danvers, lets go,” the coach’s voice called as the player finished getting ready, completing the final tasks of her routine. “I need you for some press stuff.” 

“I thought that was after,” Kara furrowed as she trotted over to Cat Grant as the rest of the team finished up in the locker room. 

“Opening day means a lot of parading around,” she explained as they walked through the corridor. “You know this team is precarious at best. We have to do everything we can to appease the money bags.”

“I was going to do some appeasing on the scoreboard. Try to put on a show.” 

“If you could do both, I’d appreciate it.” 

“You know I can.” 

With a comparable grin, Cat nodded and tugged open a door that led to a lobby area, where post game interviews would be held, where the team would meet before the huddle, only this time it was nearly empty save for two women. 

“Ms. Luthor,” Cat held out her hand as she approached the striking woman that Kara was stuck staring at. “It’s an honor to have you out here to see our first game.” 

“I’ve heard you’ve done amazing things. I’m excited to watch,” she smiled back, clasping Grant’s hand with both of hers. 

Dimples were there, right on her cheeks. There was also red lipstick. Cherry red and full on the lips. And her eyes. The green of the jersey was absolutely perfect for making her eyes seem like never-ending forests. Kara cleared her throat when she remembered to swallow and looked away from her face quickly, afraid of gawking too long, though her own cheeks grew a bit warm with the observations. The problem was that looking anywhere else was just as bad. Skin-tight black jeans betrayed hips, and the jersey was enough to not hide her chest, and Kara wanted to pluck out her own eyeballs. 

While she introduced her assistant, Kara looked helplessly at the door and shifted on her feet, hoping to avoid the weird feeling in her chest and head. 

“This is one of our stars, Kara Danvers. She’ll be doing some press with you after the game, so I thought it’d be better to look as if you’ve met before.”

“Good thinking,” Lena smiled and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Kara nodded, curt and polite enough, the handshake not lasting very long. 

“I will confess I don’t know much about soccer, but I’ve done my research on you,” the money explained. “Jess was telling me how brilliant you are, and I’m excited for you to share your talent with the city.” 

“Me? Yes, um. I am as well. Excited. I love this city. My second home it is.”

With a funny look on her face, Lena just nodded and turned back to the coach, her glance following a beat later as Kara looked away, her cheeks full firetrucks. 

“I wont interrupt anymore of your prep time,” Lena explained. “Thank you Cat.” 

“Enjoy the view from the owner’s box.” 

“I get one of those?” Lena asked, her voice going a little low as she asked her assistant. 

Kara lingered for a moment as her coach made her way back toward the lock eroom to prepare. She met Lena’s lok and offered another shy smile before hurring to turn around. 

“See you later,” she offered and cringed as she turned around. 

The entire walk back to the locker room, Kara hung her head, oddly confused about the very short but very weird meeting. She didn’t know what to do or what she had done, just that she had a game to win and now knew that Lena Luthor existed. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

“Good evening National City!” the CEO cheered from the edge of the pitch, a giant television of herself played just behind her for everyone to see in the sold out crowd. 

The sun was beginning to set behind the city, the stadium sitting on the edge of the water with a view of the skyline and the lake behind it. It was all so new and clean and nice, that Lena took a little bit of pride in the fact hat she had some hand to play in it all even if she wan’t acutely aware of it. 

“I am so happy to introduce you to your National City FC!” 

The crowd roared again as she smiled into the microphone and surveyed the edge of the field with the waiting players and their tiny equivalents. 

“It has been an honor to be part of bringing the next great franchise to our wonderful city, and I know these women are going to make you all so proud!” 

The cheering was awfully addicting, and Lena was going to try to figure out how to get twenty thousand people to follow her around and agree with everything she said. 

“What do you say we get this inaugural season underway?�� 

Lena smiled and waved, handing over the microphone to the emcee. The deep voice began to introduce the team as the owner walked off of the field toward her assistant who smiled, much too knowledgeable about the fact that her boss was actually having fun despite her inability to admit it. 

“You looked good out there,” Jess nodded as Lena stood beside her, shielding her eyes from the squint of the sun as she looked at her team. 

“Sports aren’t that bad,” Lena shrugged. 

Despite herself, the CEO found Kara Danvers in the lineup, a little girl standing before her as they did the anthem and introductions. Even though everyone was quiet and preparing for the game, the little girl was antsy. Kara held her hands and lifted her up slightly, swinging her a bit, her shoulders and biceps straining. Lena swallowed as she watched Kara giggle with the little girl, and wondered how someone could exist that was insanely hot and also a big old goober. It didn’t seem fair. 

“Let’s get to the box,” Jess offered, interrupting the absolute dehydration Lena was experiencing and hoping to hide. “We can go over some of the basics and I can finish explaining the strategy.” 

“I trust your judgement, but I should learn a few things for press. This is going to take a lot more of my face than previous expected, I guess?” 

“I was hoping a few showings of your face, and if we win, we’ll solidify the team. National City is lacking a prestigious championship caliber team.”

On the field, Kara hopped slightly before stretching out her legs and getting out the jitters. Hair pulled back tightly, her armband meant she was the captain, and she commanded her team with precision. 

“Is this our first championship team?” 

“I think so.” 

“This is a much more enjoyable investment than all those property deals and some of those research labs I have to hear about.” 

“Says the engineer?” 

“It pains me to admit it.” 

The whistle blew and Kara sprinted out, capturing the ball and immediately making her way toward the other goal. Lena’s heart jumped into her throat at the sheer force and speed of it all before she allowed Jess to tug her back to her box. 

“How much do you know about Kara Danvers?” Lena asked, hoping it as subtle enough to be taken as small talk. 

“It’s all in the folders.” 

The CEO nodded as the elevator ascended, and she didn’t dare to chance a look at her secretary. 

XXXXXXXXXX

No matter how many times she played, the adrenaline from a game was still mildly addicting. No matter how many goals she scored, the elation of scoring another was a fix that Kara Danvers chased perpetually. Nothing compared to it. 

After the final whistle blew though, after the game ended and there was nothing left to give, she found herself full of these things, and no matter how tired her muscles and body became, the high was slow to come down from. It did make everything happen quicker though, and somehow, not long after winning, and a hat trick under her belt, Kara found herself seated in the media room with the team logo behind her and her new owner beside her. 

“You must be fairly happy with the game tonight,” one reporter began, “any worries about the team as a whole that you will be working on this week at practice?” 

“We’re always looking to be better, and I can’t say we were flawless, but I’m so excited for where we’re at as a team, that I’m just going to bask for the evening before we get back to work in the morning.” 

The group chuckled slightly as the PR director called on the next hand. 

“Ms. Luthor, how important was it for this team to get a win tonight? Was it validation for your involvement? Vindication maybe for all the naysayers who were against the expansion?” 

“I can honestly say I haven’t paid any attention to anyone who was against this project,” Lena smiled as she earned a laugh from the audience. “It’s important to win as many games as possible for any team, let alone this team. We have a lot to prove as the new kids on the block, but I think Ms. Danvers is right, and we should celebrate and come back ready to continue in the morning.” 

For the life of her, Kara wasn’t sure why the mention of her name or the corresponding look from Lena made the tips of her ears burn, but she smiled awkwardly and tried to ignore it. 

“Ms. Luthor, what made you invest in this team and this  opportunity?” 

“The excitement in my advisor’s face when she talked about the team,” the CEO explained, nodding to the woman Kara didn’t remember officially meeting. “I can’t take credit for doing much more except being completely taken with Kara.” 

The player snapped to look at the CEO for the pause that seemed to last much too long. 

“Wait,” Lena shook her head and laughed. “Kara and her team. The sport really. The little girls that come out with the team. My advisor was one of those little girls, and she is now one of the most admirable and driven people I have ever met. If a team like this can give her joy and hope, imagine what it can do for all of the other little girls.” 

“How does it feel to have the most powerful woman in the world behind you, Kara?” 

“I’m quite taken by it,” she offered humbly with a smile, earning a laugh from the group and Lena in particular. “To be honest though, it is a truly empowering fact. To have someone with such kindness and tenacity as an example, it’s amazing.”

The pair shared a smile, and Kara looked back at the crowd, preparing for the next question.

next

[allen-arthur]

47 2p England x 2p America

47 - Meeting at a festival (I chose to have them meet at a week long renaissance fair. Some week long festivals have activities such as assassinations ;)

Cheers exploded from the inside of a tavern - light from the fireplace pouring outside from the open doors and windows. A crowd of villagers gathering around while tossing golden coins into the center of a betting pool.

Two armored men sat in the middle - hands clasped together as elbows rested on the table while eyes locked in a deadly stare down. When the bell was struck, muscles clenched while the two knights pushed against each other with all of their might. Soon enough a slam was heard and the crowd cheered again. Allen let out a laugh as he pinned Alfred’s arm to the table once more. Soon letting go to grab his mug of ale and chug the last bit of liquid hiding at the bottom.

“Another good round my dear brother but alas it seems I still have the upper hand on you. “ Sir Allen handed his mug off to one of the taverns workers as he was handed his reward for winning in return. The blonde knight across from him just laughed as well, also getting his portion of winnings and leaning back in the wooden chair nursing his own mug of ale. “Sir Allen one day I will best you in these competitions and then you will see who is better fitted to be the captain of the guards around here.” Alfred turned to the side to get a better look outside. “It is getting late my good sir, I have few rounds in the morning so I must bid you a goodnight for now. Don’t stay up to late brother - who knows what you’ll find lurking out there in the dark.”

Alfred moved to stand, shaking Allen’s hand before donning his helmet and making his way past the crowd and outside the tavern. With a wave to some of the crowd members, Allen began fixing his armor and putting the gold coins into a pouch before walking outside into the cool night air.

Slowly the red knight began his way down the dirt paths of the village. Waving to those finishing up their nightly rounds and making sure everything was orderly. The further Allen walked the quieter it became around him as more villagers turned in for the night.

Before Allen even had a second to think the knight stumbled forward when something slammed into the back of his head, sending him right to the ground with a loud yelp. Face smacking into the dirt ground with a grunt. Quickly pushing himself up, Allen started cussing when he noticed blood running down his nose - his hands moving up to try and stop the flow. “Oh! By the queen's grace I'm so sorry!” Out of the corner of Allen’s vision he noticed a small male sliding down a rope from the side of a building and running over. Dressed in light tan leathers with hints of pink and blue fabric. The man ran over and quickly pulled Allen’s hand’s from his face while ripping a pink cloth from his outfit, using it to cover Allen’s nose and stop the blood from running down his face. “I'm so sorry I didn’t mean to make you trip and fall - I was aiming for your back I promise love.” Allen looked up to the person helping him, the male was much smaller then himself - blonde/pinkish hair pinned back with some bobby pins. Freckles dotted all over his face and down the sides of his neck. Allen’s eyes widened when he noticed the quiver full of rubber arrows on his back and the bow slung over his shoulder - finally figuring out he was shot in the back of the head. “Ah, its all good I guess uh - what is your name?” Allen gasped out, trying to breath through his mouth and talk at the same time. “Oh! Pardon me where are my manners. My name is Oliveander, or Oliver for short. I hope you aren’t too upset - look here let’s get you to one of the medical tents around here. Again I'm so sorry I was just trying to aim for your back and get your attention.” Oliver reached one hand down to Allen’s arm to pull off a golden cloth that was tied around the armor. “You see, I was assigned to target you tonight in the assassin rounds. However I didn’t mean to cause you any actual pain.” Allen let out a small laugh at that. Slowly standing with Oliver’s help while keeping the cloth on his nose. “It’s fine Oliver, I knew what I was getting into when I signed up to play tonight but I guess I didn’t expect to be the target of a swift archer such as yourself.” He let Oliver lead him down the road - soon enough they came to one of the many white tents located around the grounds. Allen sat down and let some of the volunteers look at his nose.

After a couple of minutes his nose was fixed and most of the blood cleaned from his face. He thanked the volunteers and moved back out of the tent to where Oliver was standing looking nervous. Allen moved to hand Oliver back the pink cloth he used before. “Sorry I have to give this back with blood on it, but thank you I really appreciate it.” Oliver took it back with a smile. “Oh it’s okay! Again I'm so sorry for causing you this much trouble.” The smaller male looked at the cloth for a second before a smile spread on his face, moving to pull off one of the many blue pieces before standing next to Allen and tying it on a piece of the knight’s armor where the golden cloth had been. “Well, I hope you don’t mind dear knight but I would like to offer you a sincere apology by inviting you to my tent tomorrow around lunch time so I can buy you lunch. It’s not often I get to meet someone as interesting as you at renaissance fair.” Allen raised an eyebrow at this, looking at Oliver for a second before allowing a smile to grace his features. “I would be honored to accompany you for lunch tomorrow Oliver.” Allen moved to grab the other’s hand and bring it up to his lips with a wink. “My name is Sir Allen, captain of the queen’s guard - I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Oliver.”