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jadelotusflower · 1 year ago

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Lois Lane costume appreciation (Part III, seasons 8-10)

Part I - seasons 4-5

Part II - seasons 6-7

This is Part III of my appreciation for Lois Lane's costuming in Smallville, and in particular the colour yellow.

While the previous seasons relied heavily on the red-blue-yellow colour scheme, the soft reboot of the later seasons moves slightly away from it as we spend more time in gritty Metropolis. Although we still have primary colours in the setting - the Kent farm, the Talon, the Daily Planet, and in season 10 Lois and Clark's apartment - the costuming shifts to more muted tones. In season 8 Clark takes up the persona of the Red-Blue Blur, but to protect that identity he stops wearing red and blue in his civilian life, starting work at the Daily Planet in suit and tie to match Lois's business attire that she adopted in season 7.

Lois actually doesn't wear straight yellow as much these last seasons (other than a few notable exceptions), but is occasionally associated with gold. She still favours red and blue, but we start seeing shades rather than the bold primaries of the earlier seasons. Lois is also often costumed in pink or white at important moments - white being the colour of purity, but also Krypton/formal Kryptonian robes we see both Jor-El and Lara wear (as opposed to black which is Kryptonian military/solider coded). Clark wears a lot of black and shades of grey in season 9 as he is torn between his Human and Kryptonian sides, and between the philosophies of his father Jor-El and his would-be brother Zod.

Pink is of course a mix of red and white, and also a Superman I reference ("I like pink very much Lois"). Lana wore a lot of pink in the earlier seasons, so there is a precedent for it being used to denote romance/the love interest in the show's visual storytelling.

As Lois and Clark's romantic relationship develops, we rely less on the symbolism and subtext because it's up there on the screen. Lois becomes Clark's heart in the narrative, so we don't need to see it represented as visual foreshadowing. But there's still some key symbolism to explore in the presence of yellow and thematic-adjacent gold.

The first time we see Lois in yellow this season is 8x05 Committed, where Lois wakes up at the farm hung over after getting drunk at Chloe and Jimmy's engagement. She wore gold shoes to the party, and I think this is an instance where the use of gold was perhaps unintentional, but is a nice little detail. We then see her in Clark's yellow and red football jersey, with very nice placement of the blue sheet almost like a cape.

Since I doubt Clark wears this jersey on the regular, there's a good chance Lois either rifled through all of Clark's drawers and chose this to wear, or Clark specifically picked it out for her - either option delights me (and is ripe for fic potential). Also note Clark in his blue shirt for this scene, so together they complete the red-yellow-blue combination.

She then puts on one of Clark's plaid shirts over her dress, the one with the red, yellow, and blue print. This episode is of course when Lois (under duress) first declares her love for Clark so the return to and emphasis on the Superman colour costuming is appropriate. It also continues the tradition of Lois wearing Clark's shirts that started in 4x02 and we'll see several times going forward.

While we see plenty of Lois in red or blue in season 8, we don't see her in yellow or gold again until 9x01 Savior after Lois returns from the future. At the end of the episode, Lois is wearing a yellow top with her pjs right before her memories of the future are triggered, including her and Clark having sex. So Lois in yellow at this moment, having the experience of the future with a Clark that emotionally died without her, is narratively apt.

Now while Lois's memories are later erased and this timeline never exists, the events still happened for Lois, so an interesting quirk of the show is that Lois has sex with Clark before he has sex with her, but he ends up with memories of it and she doesn't.

In the next episode 9x02 Metallo, Lois wakes up from having more dreams of the future in flannelette pajamas with red yellow and blue helicopters. These pjs are reminiscent of earlier seasons, and it's likely that with Clark missing in action and feeling out of kilter with her visions, Lois is seeking the comfort of that time. She takes Shelby back to the Talon with her not only to smoke Clark out, but as a reminder of her time at the farm and the surrogate family that was the Kents (also note the yellow in her blankets).

The red/yellow/blue plaid shirt from 8x05 shows up again in 9x04 Echo for what should have been Lois and Clark's first date, and we see Lois cut off the sleeves to get ready for Monster Trucks. This means she kept the shirt all that time and brought it out specifically for their date, and I find that extremely cute. It also shows how far they've come - when she borrowed his shirt in 4x02 she presumably returned it as he's seen wearing it later, but this shirt she never returned, and it seems Clark never asked for it back either. I do kind of wonder about a cute AU where the monster truck date happens and what Clark's reaction would be to her wearing this.

Then Lois wears a gold dress when she catches up to Clark after he stands her up which is an interesting transition. This is also a scene where Clark hears how vulnerable she is, not only in her feelings for him ("this was never about more than a story - maybe it never will be") and in general ("they always leave").

This is a crucial step, but given the moral question around Clark hearing Lois's thoughts and using that information to his advantage that Chloe articulates, it's important that this wasn't their first date and that while it progresses Clark's understanding and appreciation of Lois, it doesn't actually progress their romance.

However the end of the episode we do get this lovely shot with the burnished gold of the Daily Planet behind them.

I'm going to take a detour from yellow just for a second, to point out that in 9x06 Crossfire the new tie that Clark bought to wear to the Good Morning Metropolis interview is a similar shade of orange as Lois's bridesmaid dress in 8x10 (I first made this observation in the tags of this post).

Orange of course is a mix of yellow and red, and is also a colour we occasionally see Lois wear - notably in 4x01/02. In this context it represents that Clark and Lois are close but aren't quite there yet thematically, but it's also made clear that Clark bought this tie specifically to the interview and seeing that orange is a colour he rarely (if ever) wears, it's not a stretch to think this was either a subconscious choice, or that Clark thought of her (and how amazing she looked in that dress) when he saw it.

In 9x12 Warrior Lois wears a Wonder Woman Amazon Princess costume which is red, blue, and gold but this one doesn't really count much since it's a WW reference, but the end of this episode is another important step forward in their relationship ("you asked me what my dream was and it's this - with you, Lois").

In 9x15 Escape it's tartan galore - above the bed and on the pillows at the McDougal Inn where Clark and Lois intend to take their relationship to the next level.

The tartan on the pillow, notably, is very similar print to the plaid shirt from 8x05 and 9x04, as is the tartan costume Lois chose to buy when they visited the "world's biggest ball of yarn". It is certainly the plaid pattern of their relationship!

Lois is back in gold in 9x18 Charade (one of my favourite episodes!), undercover to try and protect the Blur's identity - and is still wearing the gold bodysuit under her coat later in the episode when she's abducted by Maxwell Lord.

In one of the most pivotal scenes for Clark and Lois's relationship, (with some very prominent yellow and blue lighting), Lois knows the Blur has just saved her (after she saved him by destroying the photograph revealing his identity), and could very easily turn around to see who he is, but actively chooses not to.

While in 9x02 she asks the Blur to "let me see your face" now she accepts that "I can't know who you are. I'd give anything to see your face, to know you're name. But you can't protect us if we know who you are." She has gone beyond wanting to know the Blur for a story, or as a boost for her own ego - she understands the burden he carries and doesn't want to add to it. This moment must have meant to much to Clark after years of everyone feeling entitled to his secrets, for Lois not to make any demands of him but to trust him implicitly.

10x04 Homecoming is of course the pinnacle of symbolism of Lois in yellow, exactly six seasons after 4x04 with Lois leaving Smallville High, Lois takes Clark back there for the reunion. Again, the in-universe explanation for Lois wearing a yellow dress could be school pride, but it's not a coincidence that she's back in yellow for the 200th episode, where she and Clark exchange I Love Yous for the first time, and Clark flies.

The reunion is important to Lois, she dresses up, straightens her hair, and remembers all their classmates even though she was only there a short time. Clark wears his letterman jacket but is less than enthused to be the centre of attention. However by the end of the episode the jacket is gone - the future Lois takes it off him, and he doesn't put it back on, symbolically leaving behind his youth and ready to embrace his future.

In 10x07 Ambush we see Clark and Lois post-coital with Lois wearing Clark's jersey, calling back to 8x05 but an indication that while she is his destiny, she is also a link to his past. This is a nuance that Clark will learn to embrace at the end of the season - to become Superman, but to always hold on to Smallville.

In 10x12 Collateral Lois wears a red shirt with a gold belt while Clark is in red and blue - even in the virtual world a nod to the color scheme, and in this episode Clark flies with Lois in his arms in order to escape the dreamscape.

At the end of 10x17 Kent, we see Clark and Lois in their domestic bliss, with Lois again wearing one of Clark's plaid shirts with a yellow shirt underneath. This is the episode they decide to move to Metropolis, after Clark returns from the mirror universe where he saw alt!Jonathan.

This is a double callback, since it looks an awful lot like the yellow tank she wore in earlier seasons, and the plaid resembles the one she borrowed in 8x05. However we know that shirt got cut up in 9x04, so this likely means that Clark went out and bought another one, and then Lois commandeered that too! I love it.

In 10x19 Dominion Lois and Clark move into their new apartment in Metropolis, and for almost the entire episode Lois is wearing Superman-adjacent colours - blue jeans, mauve top, and a yellow belt. The latter is particularly interesting given that many versions of the Superman suit include a yellow belt, and at one point we get Lois in a classic superman stance.

In this episode we see Lois as a fully integrated member of the team, overruling the plan to blow up the gate to the Phantom Zone and delivering the line "Being a hero's wife means never accepting defeat."

This is actually the last time we see Lois in yellow, although in the finale we see her in gold skirt/belt in her post-wedding outfit.

But there's another side to gold, as season 10 introduces us to gold kryptonite that could permanently remove Clark's powers away (the Star Blade in earlier seasons is also yellow/gold). Do I think this undermines my argument for Lois as representing yellow/gold as Clark's heart/family? Not at all.

Yellow is ultimately symbolic of Clark's humanity, arguably the most important aspect of being Superman - he's an alien who is undeniably human.

There’s an interesting dichotomy in the yellow sun giving Clark his powers, but gold kryptonite as the substance that can take those powers away. This does fit in with Lois being his strength, as well as the linchpin of his human life - the heart of both Clark and Superman.

So take this with a grain of salt (since I know the Crisis cameo was not well received by most), but consider all of the above, and how we see the Lane-Kent’s for the last time. First, Clark in yellow gloves (inherited from Jonathan) working on the farm and unaffected by green kryptonite:

Clark said he gave up his powers - was this with gold kryptonite? It's unclear if this is something Clark chose to do, or had to do, perhaps to save the world, or was a temporary thing while he and Lois raised their daughters (sidenote, I love Clark as a girldad). I personally like to think that Clark would become Superman in this continuity again, when he's needed.

But for now last time we see Lois and Clark they are in red and blue, muted from the bold primary of Superman, but undeniably present, a reflection of their true selves even without the powers or destiny. And yellow is still there, in the farmhouse, the home where they are raising a family together:

#smallville #clark x lois #clois #lois lane #clark kent #costume appreciation #meta #superman #long post #jlf posts

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uncleasad · 10 months ago

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In other news, tonight Hallmark Channel reran what I’ve decided is one of my favorite of their movies, A Royal Runaway Romance (some possible spoilers hereafter).

One of the reasons I like it is because it doesn’t have that tired, formulaic trope of “partway through the second hour, one character, put in a tough situation, does something that hurts the other character or that the other character misinterprets in a hurtful way, and they refuse to talk to each other for most of the last half-hour until someone comes to their senses in the closing minute or two.” Those situations always feel so contrived, even forced, to me, particularly when the couple refuses to talk/explain/hear the other person out. Yeah, bad stuff happens, people make mistakes, couples have fights…but the not talking/not trying never seems realistic and always grates on me.

This movie instead goes with a more straightforward “your purpose here is to help me with X” and feelings develop along the way, but they’re both mature enough to understand that while they have these feelings, their purpose is X, not romance. So while there’s a bit of heartbreak, it’s not the kind that comes from betrayal (or “betrayal”) or the like, but more the kind where you know the cool person you hung out with (and liked) at summer camp is going back to their life, too, and you’ll never see them again (as one example of the type).

Another reason I really enjoy this movie is Philippa Northeast starring as Princess Amelia, who is lovely and kind and trying to find her way/place. (Ms Northeast looks a bit like Emilia Clarke and Lena LuthorKatie McGrath—perhaps exactly like if they had a daughter 😂—so there’s that. And that pink dress, wow 🤩 Kudos to the costume designer.) Her excitement for seeing America is both charming and contagious. (Plus, now I want s’mores!)

This is also one of those movies where I’d like to see a sequel. There’s the expected happy ending, but there’s so much room—perhaps deliberately so?—for more adventures before Amelia becomes queen. I’m not exactly sure how you’d work the “romance” angle without falling back on the tropes I find trite—I’d like to see them exploring and learning about each other similar to the the way they did in this film, but as a couple rather than two strangers. A romance adventure? Dunno. (Hallmark made romance-in-a-sequel work for a whole series of “Season in the Vineyard” films with Rachael Leigh Cook, but I’ve only ever seen the first one, so I don’t know how that worked.)

The other thing this rewatch reminded me (I can’t believe this movie came out in 2022—it was either the week before or the week after Katherine McNamara’s groundbreaking one [I thought I had a post about Kat’s movie, but I can’t find it under the expected tags, and we all know tumblr search is absolutely worthless])—is that, in spite of their ability to (sometimes) move beyond that contrived conflict, these Hallmark movies have yet to move beyond other formulaic elements: Amelia has a person-of-color “best friend” (assistant) and a really cool fun gay uncle. I’ve seen commercials for a winter/Christmas movie with two Black leads, and there was Kat’s aforementioned movie where she ends up with a woman (the way her sexuality was never defined, only explored, felt beautiful—like a vision of an ideal world—but I can’t help but wonder whether it was specifically downplayed)…they’re still (almost) all straight, white couples at the center. And while I adore many of the Hallmark leading ladies (“providing regular employment for actresses who portrayed Uncle Asad’s favorite bit-part broadcast-network characters since 2002” 😂) and enjoy many of the movies, they’re just not reflective of the world we live in…and so very far behind most of the rest of the networks out there. It makes me very sad.

#musings #hallmark #romcoms #A Royal Runaway Romance #Philippa Northeast

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youtwitinmyface · 1 year ago

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SUPERMAN ADVENTURES #16

Written by Mark Millar Drawn by Aluir Amancio Published by DC Comics Superman: The Animated Series was a cartoon that launched on TV in September 1996. One month later DC Comics launched this comic-book series to go along with it. The comic was set in the same continuity as the cartoon and lasted 66 issues (12 issues more than the cartoon's 54 episodes). The series employed several different writers, all mostly writing single-issue stories that could be read in any order, and artists who were deliberately imitating the artist still of Bruce Timm, the animator of the cartoon. I'm going to start reviewing the issues of this series that were written by Mark Millar. Millar was 27 at the time and still breaking into the American comic book industry as a writer. It's interesting to look back at these issues, as the simple all-ages stories are drastically different in tone from the action-packed and violence-prone adult-oriented stories that he would become known for later in his career.

This issue is titled, CLARK KENT, YOU'RE A NOBODY. Clark Kent discovers that he's lost all of his powers, as well as all evidence that he was Superman (his costume has disappeared too). Clark even tries exposing himself to Kryptonite, but it has no effect on him, proving that he's fully human. He takes a plane back to Smallville to visit Ma and Pa Kent to discuss it with him, but they act like they have no idea what he's talking about, as they have no memory of him being Superman. Meanwhile, Superman is shown to be fully active, stopping regular criminals, supervillains, and saving people from natural disasters (including saving Clark and The Kents from a tornado that was heading to their house). So what's going on?!?

Spoiler alert, I guess.

It all turns out to be the latest plot by Superman's long-time nemesis, the 5th Dimensional imp, Mr. Mxyzptlk. He's behind it all and is the one impersonating Superman. After figuring this out, Clark manages to trick Mr. Mxyzptlk into saying his name backward twice (although he only needs to say it once in most comic book continuities, but either way he remains dimwitted enough to regularly be tricked into saying it), so that everything is reverted to normal. This issue is a fine introduction to this version of Superman, whether you've watched the cartoon or not you'll easily be able to follow the story. Mark Millar slips in a funny sequence where Clark gets mugged by two guys who beat him up and steal his wallet, and when a cop finds him he remarks that without his glasses Clark looks like Superman. And Aluir Amancio apes Bruce Timm's animated style very well. Check it out!

#Mark Millar #dc comics #superman #Superman Adventures #Superman Adventures by Mark Millar #comic book reviews #J.R. LeMar reviews comic books #Aluir Amancio #superman the animated series

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seraphsfire · 2 years ago

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things i did and didn’t like about rings of power (so you don’t have to watch it)

disclaimer: if you do want to watch it for whatever reason, please don’t pay for it, find a way to pirate it, don’t give jeff bezos any of your money. If you did really like it i totally respect that, i hope you enjoy it, these are just my personal opinions.

things i did like:

the worldbuilding and set design is gorgeous, on par with the movies and i’d tentatively say the cgi is better than the hobbit trilogy. If that’s the kind of thing you’re interested in, i’d say it’s worth a watch. However, you’d probably waste less time by googling screenshots

the dwarves are DELIGHTFUL. they’re a little different than Hobbit movie or Lotr dwarves, but they feel like Tolkien dwarves and they have a ton of personality and charisma. Disa is gorgeous and hilarious. And while she doesn’t have a beard, she does have sideburns that you couldn’t really see in the promo pics of her. (the dwarves don’t show up until episode 2 tho). They were probably my favorite part of the show so far.

The girl they cast to play Nori is super adorable and cute. The actors in general for the hobbits are very charming even if they look horrifically stinky and filthy.

Morfydd clark doesn’t exactly feel or look like galadriel, but she does feel like an elf (unlike all the other elves in this show). If you forget she’s supposed to be galadriel she’s cool to watch even though the elves in this show are, in general, absurd. She’s clearly a good actor even though you can tell the directing on her part wasn’t great, there’s a lot of Very Dramatic squinting and Staring on her part and she has some ridiculous lines.

I actually really like the guy playing elrond. He also does feel like an elf and although he looks like a fancy hobbit, he’s the only one in the show i feel like is trying to be the character from the books he was cast as. If they did better stuff with his makeup and hair he could really be great. Idk maybe season 2 they’ll give him better hair or some Fenty diamond veil.

the elves’ (regular) costumes actually look a lot better on screen than they do in promo pics. Not super elfy, but enough of a fancy king-arthur feel for me to give it a pass. Much better than house of the dragon costumes (so far) or most of the non-important costumes in game of thrones.

things i didn’t like:

hoo boy.

i Mean i could go on and on about what the HELL were they thinking with the elves. Maybe not all the elves in the hobbit movies or lotr looked super elfy themselves (craig parker ily but you do look like A Dad) but the nasty looking short hair?

neo-n@zi style undercuts?

If they were going to do short hair they could have tried something. Idk. more romantic looking? or like cherub curls or soft floaty waves? there is so much hairspray in those elves’ hair. The ears are massive, thick and ugly looking. Their Token Diverse Elf guy is, other than galadriel’s brother, the only sort of unusual looking one to be passably cast as an elf but either he is a very bad actor or he was Very badly directed. His lines are awful. He’s supposed to be in love with this human chick but there is nothing about how they met, why they like each other, what they have in common, anything. No chemistry whatsoever. He’s also got a very stupid, plastic-looking costume.

Also. They cast maybe the strangest oatmeal faced dudes they could find in britain as elves. What is this

The elves armor is very stupid looking. Plain plate armor that is a matte grey for some reason, which i assume was to give it a softer look but really just ended up looking like it was spray painted, same with the chain mail they have under the armor.

so much of this show had me going “wait, WHAT? why is that happening?” i knew this was mostly made up and wouldn’t have a lot directly from the silm or appendicies, but just trying to understand it narratively was baffling. They reference all these things they never explain.

Galadriel talks about all the people she lost that the orcs / morgoth took from her but all you get is a seconds long scene of her looking at her dead brother. None of these other multitudes of people she’s lost are mentioned. A lot of stuff happens like this, just some character being like “oh this happened so thats why i have Emotional Damage,” and just moving on without any explanation. No chance to really get to know the characters, apart from a little bit with galadriel and she has very little backstory other than being Full of Need For Revenge.

WHY ARE THE HOBBITS SO DIRTY. WHY.

they clearly know how to live off the land and build things, they’re not anywhere far away from water, but they are just COVERED with dirt and their hair is matted and absolutely nasty, their clothes are stained with sweat, their teeth are super yellow. they all look disgusting and i have no clue why. All the hobbits having an irish accent and there being a decent number of brown people among them unlike the elves or humans but them looking so gross feels Bad like a microaggression. but like i said in another post since I’m white and also not irish i feel like this isn’t something that’s my place to break down and discuss. The whole time they looked so gross that i was just cringing. They do act like hobbits tho.

Just random plot threads and scenes that were so bizarre and cliche that they didn’t need to put in when there’s So much more interesting things to pull from in the appendicies. Sauron apparently leaves this Mark everywhere that looks like a trident and the elves just DON’T KNOW what it means.

why is sauron marking his victims like a serial killer? Why are there orcs poisoning cattle? why the hell did bronwyn’s son find that orc sword / morgoth’s sword / sauron’s sword or whatever? These are plot threads that are obviously put in there to make it supposedly interesting, but they’re all overused tropes from other stuff that afaik aren’t related to/established by anything that happens in silm or lotr, while they could have used so many other interesting things from the text instead. It feels VERY geared towards like, 8-12 year olds, but way too slow for them. Some things they rushed through, while other scenes, especially dialogue scenes with the humans, just dragged on without really giving any interesting information or character development.

there was this whole scene with galadriel escaping a sea monster for some reason which didn’t make sense, i don’t see why we could have seen more of her backstory instead, but i mean peter jackson did that kind of thing pretty often in lotr and the hobbit so whatever. It wasn’t actually even that interesting of a fight and they didn’t even show more than a fin either which was kind of disappointing.

galadriel being a Girlboss full of Revenge. I guess there’s ways to do that that i could have believed but it’s just So dramatic i just kept grimacing the whole time. Since she’s the main character pretty much, this doesn’t help. Opening with her as a very dour looking child building a boat out of paper was a really strange choice.

the “diversity” being all talk and no substance. Wild to me that amazon went to all that trouble to toot their own horn about diversity and piss off the racists and then didn’t actually bother. Yeah there’s brown hobbits, and a few brown dwarves. Galadriel’s company that she commands is 100% white and male. I saw maybe one east asian person. The border guards where the love struck elf guy works are all men. The dwarves with speaking roles are men other than Disa.

it’s bizarre, it’s all over the place, the lines sound like generic fantasy rpg #28, only a couple of them were actually taken from the text, it’s a sausage fest, the elves suck. The dwarves are cool and the one thing that really feels like Tolkien in the whole show. The worldbuilding is pretty. The music is kind of nice but not really noticeable. It has very little resemblance to anything middle-earthy, it’s very juvenile, and very boring. anyway. That’s about it.

#long post #rings of power spoilers #rings of power #and i mean there's always the chance that it'll get better... but i mean. does that ever happen with shows like this

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sassylittlecanary · 2 years ago

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Ranking the Major Live-Action Superman Suits Since 1978

Because I have a lot of thoughts.

8. Superman & Lois (Tyler Hoechlin)

I adore this show, and I think Hoechlin does a fantastic job as both Superman and Clark Kent. However, I HATE this suit. SO MUCH. It just looks like a regular dude in a Halloween costume, and it keeps getting worse and worse with each season. I hate the muscle highlighting (it looks cheap and forced), the neckline needs to be lower and more square, the boots could be taller, the S shield is too small and way too dark, and the colors are too dark and faded. I genuinely cannot understand who thought this suit was ready for filming in any way. It is absolutely hideous, and I will die on that hill.

7. Superman Returns (Brandon Routh)

I like that this suit stays so close to the source material, but it’s just … off. It would be completely fine if it weren’t for several little things that combine to make it underwhelming. Firstly, the colors are off: On screen, the blue looks almost turquoise, and the red often looks brownish (just a few shades lighter and brighter would’ve been a huge improvement). The S shield is too small, and I personally don’t like how raised it is. The thing I hate the most is the neckline — it needs to be lower and more square. Show some collarbone and shoulders, you cowards.

6. Zack Snyder’s Justice League (Henry Cavill)

I know a lot of people really like this suit and its symbolism, but I have mixed feelings about Cavill’s suits in general. Personally, I prefer bright colors, and the fact that Cavill never got bright colors at all made the black suit just another dark outfit (and therefore less special, which harmed the intended symbolism). I appreciate the comic reference, but if the filmmakers really wanted to go for it, they should’ve traded the cape for a mullet (mostly kidding).

5. Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman (Dean Cain)

I don’t really have feelings about this one. It’s the classic Superman look, and there’s nothing really special about it, but I don’t mind that. It’s cheesy, but I don’t mind that either. The show doesn’t take itself too seriously, and neither does the suit.

4. DCEU (Henry Cavill)

I was VERY torn about how to rank this one. The love-hate relationship is strong. Cavill looks good in it, but I honestly don’t like it that much. Even at the best of times, the blue is WAY too dark (I mean, sometimes it’s more black than blue). I resent Zack Snyder’s aversion to color. I understand they wanted to modernize the suit and get rid of the trunks, but it needs something red to break up the blue. Unpopular opinion, but I also don’t like the way all of Cavill’s muscles are highlighted. However, this is my all-time favorite Superman cape. It’s floor length and billowing and amazing, and for that reason this suit is ranked this high.

3. Supergirl (Tyler Hoechlin)

Now, if you want to ditch the red trunks, this is the right way to do it. The red belt breaks up the blue similar to how the old trunks did, the colors are just right, the cape looks good (although the material isn’t my favorite), and the size and design of the S shield are perfect. If the trunks have to go, this is my favorite suit.

2. Crisis on Infinite Earths Crossover (Brandon Routh)

This is perhaps the best modern Superman suit. It’s a lovely blend of tradition and modernity, and of course the Kingdom Come reference is awesome. Everything about it is perfect. I love it. It looks great on Routh, and the style and colors suit the character and context. I desperately want Routh to have his own Superman show and wear this in it.

1. Superman I-IV (Christopher Reeve)

What can I say? I’m a sucker for nostalgia. This one is definitely dated, but despite that, it remains quintessentially Superman. When I picture Superman, this is the suit I see. It’s iconic, it’s a near-perfect recreation of the comics, and Reeve wears it in a way that makes it real and authentic.

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takaraphoenix · 3 years ago

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I just really don’t understand why Tokyo Mew Mew New changed Ichigo’s hair-color. It’s such an odd thing to do, to change not just a character but the main character’s design?

And her hair turning from dark red to bright pink when she’s in her Mew form was one of the things I really loved about TMM, because it wasn’t just a Clark Kent situation of “why does nobody recognize them??”.

They didn’t just put on frilly costumes and gain animal traits, they also changed hair colors when they were in their superhero persona. Why would you undo that and keep their regular hair-color even when transformed? What’s the point of that?

And it’s not even like this was an anime exclusive thing either - like, that the hair-color change didn’t happen in the manga and only in the OG anime and this anime is closer to the manga. No, that’s not the case either. The hair-color change was part of both the original anime as well as the manga?

I’m hung up on this because it seems so completely pointless and just a weird decision to make?

#Momomiya Ichigo #Tokyo Mew Mew #Tokyo Mew Mew New

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drainthehero · 3 years ago

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Superman meets the Parasite. Chapter 1

Clark was thrilled. His own story! He had been at the Planet for over six months and had never been allowed to chase his own story. Perry had either shot his ideas down in seconds or – worse yet – given it to a more seasoned reporter like the loud and obnoxious Lois Lane. He rolled his eyes just thinking about the gloating look she often gave him.

He had finally found one in the sweet spot. True, no other reporter had even the slightest interest in it – one even threated to quit if assigned it, but Perry hadn’t shot it down immediately so Clark figured he deserved to put it in the win column.

Three male college athletes had gone missing over the past two months. Naturally that story was huge and everyone was chasing it. But Clark believed he had found evidence linking the three to a sports masseur. The evidence was not particularly damning, but Clark had a hunch.

He had flown by the studio a few times as Superman and had to admit it looked pretty innocent. Still, a hunch was a hunch and a story was a story!

And so it was that Clark had come up with the fairly uninspired cover of posing as a recently transferred senior who would be joining the wrestling team. He was now standing in his tiny shabby apartment checking out his disguise.

He was wearing a used wrestling unitard purchased from a past wrestling student. The crotch was a bit worn and the unitard was a bit tight around his thighs but that hardly worried him. His impervious skin could never feel chafing after all. He looked at himself in the mirror admiring the plan, his handsome youthful face beaming back a smile at himself. His massive pectorals and biceps were perhaps above average for a wrestler, but he gave them a quick flex and figured they would pass.

He reached down and grabbed his cock to adjust it and was rewarded with a pulsing semi from the combination of the sheerness of the fabric and his own touch. The red briefs from his Superman costume had a lining that helped to smooth his bulge and obscure his excitement – which – at only 21 years of age was fairly regular. The last thing Superman needed was a visible erection. He blushed in his Smallville way as he confessed to himself that he certainly fit the bill physically.

He realized he was now feeling pretty horny, so he decided to take care of himself before setting out. The masseur might get the wrong idea if Clark turned up for a massage with a raging hard-on after all.

He slid the two straps over his large rounded deltoids and peeled the sheer fabric off his muscles like a second skin. He then lay back on the bed and looked down at himself and grabbed the base of his now hard cock in his hand. Through the valley where his pecs met and over the ridges of his abs he could clearly see his shaft standing at full mast. He knew it stood up 9 inches as he had measured it almost every day of his eighteenth year until it had stopped growing.

He then started to stroke his big cock, his hand pumping up and down the shaft. As his stroked himself, he imagined that the feeling was made by Jimmy Olsen – another new intern at the Planet –riding up and down his shaft in long slow strokes and that Jimmy was also jerking his own cock over the abs of Clark.

He did a full flex of the big super bicep on his free arm. In his fantasy this drove Jimmy wild and he rode the big cock harder and faster. His imagination saw Jimmy cumming all over the big chest and chiseled abs of the young superhero and this prompted the super cock to also reach climax. Clarks’ breathing sped up, his balls moved up close to his cock and Clark lifted and arched his back and shot his own big load over his abs and chest. His muscular body convulsed in the throes of his orgasm and he squeezed the head a few times to milk the remaining juice from his uncut head.

Clark lay there in bliss for a moment, before cleaning himself off with a towel.

Seeing the time and not wanting to be late, Clark threw a shirt over the unitard and grabbed his bag which held his normal clothes as well as his Superman costume.

Clark felt the need to blend in so he took the bus and arrived just on time. The studio felt legitimate to his inexpert eye, with an assortment of charts and posters talking about muscle groups or elite performance.

He was greeted warmly by the masseur, Rudy, who ushered him directly through to the sparsely furnished consulting room. Once inside Rudy gestured to the massage table and said, “Please undress and lay on your stomach. I’ll just step out and let you get ready.” He went back through the door leaving Clark alone.

Clark cursed himself silently for his lack of preparation. He had never needed a massage before and so didn’t know the etiquette. He stripped off all his clothes and placed them on a small table, laying down on the table naked. Seems a little odd, but I guess I can go with it.

After a minute Rudy re-entered the room and saw the naked ass of the young jock proudly displayed on the table. It was possibly the tightest bubble butt he had ever seen, causing him to lick his lips in distracted anticipation, feeling his heartrate pick up. Rudy decided it was a little unusual but if Clark was comfortable being naked then he could manage. He had admired the young jock from the moment he entered the studio, with boyish good looks, a strong jaw and muscular physique.

Rudy wheeled his tray closer and started to select oils. “Now, just relax,” he said in a calm voice, “I’m going to start by testing the tightness of your muscles.”

Rudy applied the oils to the broad back of the young Man of Steel, watching as the muscles twitched under the skin in response to the lower temperature and probing touch. He placed both hands on the strong back muscles and started to apply pressure. “Mmmm,” said Rudy softly. “These muscles are very tight Clark.”

This was the part that had most concerned Clark and so he stayed focused on suppressing his powers and keeping his super muscles as loose and untensed as he possibly could. He did not dare flex his muscles as Rudy might get suspicious by the impervious muscles of steel.

From the moment Clark stepped into his office, Rudy had felt a burning need to consume the energy of the young wrestling stud. Those big muscles appeared to be bursting with the energy needed to satisfy his terrible hunger. “Just relax, Clark,” he said in that soothing voice, “I will now start to move the tension around. If you feel any weakness or dizziness, that is completely normal as blood vessels open up.”

The muscles felt thick and dense under his touch but Rudy ignored this and started to probe cautiously with his power. He knew to start with only small amounts as this was easily disregarded by his subjects as a product of the therapy.

Rudy started to draw the energy through the rippled back muscles of Clark and was shocked by the result of his actions. He almost exclaimed audibly but barely managed to maintain his composure. He had never before felt anything like this. Comparing the power of Clark to other young men he had worked on was like comparing a glass of water to an ocean!

As Rudy continued to absorb power from the young jock he realized that this could not possibly be an ordinary young man and that this must in fact be some kind of enhanced male, possibly even the young new hero they called Superman. Rudy was instantly suspicious about the motives of the young jock on his table and decided to take a more cautious approach.

Mustering all of his will-power he stopped draining the energy from Clark and just continued with his normal massage. Rudy thrilled as he ran his hands over the various powerful muscles on the athletic physique, drinking in the view of the thighs, calves, biceps and of course the buns of steel. Taking advantage of Clark’s nakedness, Rudy even slipped a seemingly absent finger between those delicious buns and brushed the puckered hole of the young muscle stud.

Rudy slowly and meticulously plowed his hands in and around the muscles, thrilling at the feel of the unbridled power humming just below the surface of the amazingly muscular body. Even without his draining ability, the physical contact still got Rudy semi hard and hungry for more.

Rudy completed the massage in a professional tone and sent Clark on his way with a future booking time.

Clark got off the table feeling a little strange after the massage, but he assumed it was due to spending so long telling his muscles to stay limp. Rudy had done nothing unusual leaving Clark to doubt his instincts as he left the studio.

Clark spent the next three days turning up dead ends until Rudy contacted him with an invitation to an elite squad session that evening at a local hall. The location and short notice set off Clark’s reporter instincts so he enthusiastically agreed to attend. He left shortly after wearing gym casual with his costume and normal clothes in his bag.

Clark arrived at the hall to find Rudy talking with four athletes around Clark’s own age. Rudy welcomed Clark to the group and gave everyone time for introductions, Clark being careful to memorize the names and faces of the young men.

The workshop got underway with Rudy covering a range of relevant topics. So relevant in fact that Clark again began to doubt himself. As the session drew to a close Rudy was joined by two men and two women who would be assisting with the post talk physical.

Everyone was paired and led to a private room. Rudy paired with Clark and led him through a door and into a poorly lit windowless room with a massage table in the middle. “Some of these old community buildings look a bit tired, aren’t they?” joked Rudy with a grin.

Once again Rudy left Clark to undress and rejoined the room once Clark was lying naked on the table. “I’m glad you could make it tonight Clark,” Rudy said conversationally. “I felt during your last session that I didn’t make much progress with your muscles. They are really tight and I wasn’t quite prepared for them.”

“Oh I didn’t notice at all, Rudy,” Clark replied nervously, worried his abilities might give him away. “I actually felt much more loose and relaxed afterward.” As he lay there he once again focused all his attention on keeping his body loose and his super muscles limp.

“Well thank you. Let’s get started then. Let me know if you would like me to change anything.” With that Rudy once again applied the oils to the broad muscular back lying before him and started to massage and knead with his expert fingers.

As he played his hands around and over the big lateral muscles he started the process of slowly draining energy from the big muscle hunk. Not too much at once or he would risk raising the attention of what he assumed was the young Man of Steel.

After working the shoulders, laterals and lower back Rudy then progressed to the trunk like legs, kneading heavily into the hamstrings and then down to the calves. The muscles felt amazing under his hands and he was sure he felt them softening as the massage drew on. Clark found himself drifting in and out of partial sleep during the session and when it came time to turn over he did so without noticing the sluggishness in his body.

As Clark settled onto his back Rudy drank in the sight before him. The huge chest of the young hero was rising and falling steadily and the abdominal ridges of the otherwise flat stomach leading down the short neat pubes around the base of what was a pretty big but currently flaccid shaft with uncut head. The shaft was hanging lazily over the large round balls.

Rudy got to business and started to rub his hands into the pectoral muscles, making circular motions in the hard muscle mass. The big slabs felt glorious under that smooth skin. He then massaged each of the large biceps, running up and down and around their length repeatedly, feeling the thick and dense muscle moving beneath between his fingers. Finally he gave the same attention to the huge quads.

As Rudy rubbed the oil into the chest big thighs of the young hero he saw Clark’s cock stiffening. It crawled slowly around the thigh as it grew and hardened before it finished pointing up the muscular abdomen of the hunky hero. By the time it was finished growing it must have been 8 or 9 inches long! This allowed the bulbous balls of the young man to sit free and clear resting in the valley of the big thigh muscles.

Rudy continued to work the huge thighs, spreading his hands up, down and around the big smooth muscles, all the while drawing more and more power from the hapless Man of Steel, who lay on the table with his eyes closed and his arms hanging limply over the side of the table.

It was at this point that Rudy felt most nervous. He had no idea how much power the young hero still possessed, but it was clear he had more. When Rudy performed this on normal men, by now they were already weakened to the point that they could not lift a hand. The next step was critical but would be challenging if the young hero possessed the strength to fight back.

Rudy applied oil directly to his hands and placed one hand on the big hard shaft, the other on the balls and drained with all his skill. This was the most effective way he had found to complete a draining in the past.

The touch of Rudy’s hand on his cock and balls, coupled with the draining feeling finally brought Clark back to alertness. His eyes opened wide to see Rudy gripping his shaft and balls, reacting with anger. “What?! Huh? How dare you! Get your hands off me, villian!” Clark yelled in outrage.

The young superhero raised his hand to push the assailant away. Well, that was the intention. His arm merely flopped around beside the table as Clark could barely get his body to respond at all. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish and then he truly felt the effects of the draining being carried out through his cock and balls.

He could feel the firm touch of Rudy’s hands on his hard shaft and smooth balls as they were massaged and his power seeped through his love muscle into the waiting body of Rudy.

“Arrghhh… wait…. Stop. You’re making me weak. What are you doing?” Clark managed. “Please, stop. Please… don’t. Argghhh… so weak. Ugghh, soo weeeakk,” he trailed of softly.

Rudy had never felt anything like this before. A small part of his brain tried to alert him to the fact that maybe it was too much, but the hunger which was now such an integral part of him demanded to be fed.

Clark lay there helpless as the transfer of power continued through his shaft. Rudy was squeezing the smooth balls and shaft as his excitement grew. “Oohh… owww… so weak. Rudy… pleeeasse stop. You’re hurting me. Too weak.”

Rudy’s eyes glowed with an evil power. “Why stop? I’ve never had such a feast before. You are just brimming with power.”

Clark was shocked at this feeling of weakness. He had never before experienced anything which had caused him to lose his powers. As he finally came to his senses he managed to bring one leg up to deliver a solid kick to the stomach of Rudy. Clark was shocked to feel that the stomach felt like hard steel as his foot landed the blow.

Rudy was pushed back a few steps by the force of the blow, causing the draining to cease and give Clark a momentary respite. “You little shit,” Rudy began as he approached the prone young Man of Steel. Superman knew that he had to get away from this creature, but he was so weak and his body was so sluggish that he could only manage to drop off the side of the table, lying stretched out on the floor.

“Ughhh… ahhh… how? So weak,” continued Superman.

The Man of Steel managed to stand himself upright, positioned with his back to Rudy. The hero swayed on his feet as his weak muscles struggled to hold him up. Clark turned around to confront the villain only to be embraced by a pair of strong arms wrapping around his chest and clasping at his back, with the once mighty arms of the Man of Steel pinned beside his chest helplessly. As the energy drain resumed, Clark noticed that Rudy had used the time to get completely naked and that he also had a raging erection.

Clark lifted with his powerful arms to break the bear hug, but in his weakened state he was unable to find his way free. “Unnnhhh. So weak… can’t... break free,” he said, his breathing laboured and shallow as his once mighty chest struggled to draw enough oxygen.

The contact of their nude entwined bodies – muscles and cocks touching everywhere – only served to increase the power draining effect.

Rudy turned up the pressure and felt even more power flow into him from the Man of Steel. ��Urgghhh,” gurgled the superhero weakly, “Urgghh… please… please… the pain… so weak.” In desperation Superman managed to grab one of the hanging balls of Rudy and squeezed with all his might. Rudy just laughed at the puny effort by the weakened superhero.

“Is that all you have superhero?” Rudy taunted him. “Your muscles are so weak and puny that you can’t even hurt my balls!”

Rudy knew that he had to complete the power transfer while Superman was still weak and disoriented. He bent the hero over the massage table exposing his bubble butt and hole and held the weakened Man of Steel down with one draining hand placed on the powerful back muscles.

Without hesitation Rudy positioned the head of his cock against the inviting hole of the Man of Steel. Superman felt the intrusion and thrashed his arms weakly. “You villain! No. You wouldn’t dare!” he weakly exclaimed. “Please,” he begged finally. Superman strained his sphincter with every ounce of energy he could muster, determined to keep the villain out of his virginal pleasure centre.

“I would,” said Rudy with an evil smile plastered on his face, “with the greatest of pleasure.” He then thrust his 7 inch shaft hard and deep toward the puckered hole of Superman.

Rudy felt resistance as Superman fought to keep his asshole closed, but Rudy knew there could only be one outcome. He drew back a little and thrust again with more strength, this time rupturing the once impenetrable hole of the mighty Man of Steel.

Superman screamed with a combination of shock and pain as tears pooled in his eyes. “Arrrgghhh! Aaieeee… Arrgghhhhh!” The begging continued as Rudy commenced thrusting his cock back in forth in the tight ass of the young superhero, “No... please… the… pain. Stop! I’m Superman! You… can’t… fuck… me.”

The cries from the young hero turned Rudy on even more and increased his excitement as his cock drew power directly from within the Ass of Steel.

Rudy placed a now super powered arm around the neck of Superman and flexed his bicep to apply pressure to the airway, choking the superhero while he fucked him raw. The Man of Steel managed to raise one hand to clutch at the hardened bicep choking him. Normally, Superman could have easily moved that arm, but now he could barely clutch onto it as it drained his breath and his powers.

Folded over the table, Superman flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to save himself. He already felt so weak from the power drain by Rudy and now he was even struggling to draw breath. The big muscles on his once mighty arms were now useless and his struggling weakened until the point that his arms hung limply at his side. His neck was slack and his head hung limply on Rudy’s muscular bicep wrapped tightly around his throat.

Rudy ran his free hand over the chest, stomach and bicep muscles of the mighty superhero, draining them for all they were worth as he went. As the movements of the young superhero weakened Rudy felt a stirring in his balls and he slowed and deepened his thrusts in response.

Rudy continued to feel the weakened muscles of Superman as they hung limp and useless from his athletic frame while he drove his hard shaft deeply and rhythmically inside Superman’s ass.

As he thrust his cock to its deepest, he felt an orgasm rock his body as his cum erupted deep within the Man of Steel, spewing forth into the waiting ass of Superman.

The Man of Steel could sense the blackness closing in as the free hand of Rudy continued to run itself over the length of his big muscles, draining his remaining strength everywhere it touched. Superman’s ass burned in pain from the cock being thrust in and out. He then felt the final humiliation as Rudy’s cum was emptied into his waiting ass. He could feel the bursts issuing from the shaft as six mini eruptions exploded within him. “Unnghhhh… no… don’t… you can’t,” begged the once powerful Man of Steel. “Please… please no… don’t empty your seed in me. Ughhh… so weak.”

Rudy continued with small thrusts as his cock emptied the last of his juice into the hole. While he flexed his bicep to finish the choke hold on the Man of Steel he whispered into the ear of Superman, “I really enjoyed your tight hole, Superman, and filling it with my cum. I could fuck you every day,” he chuckled. “Maybe I will,” he added.

The Man of Steel could only whimper weakly with the cock shoved in his ass and the flexed bicep preventing oxygen from reaching his brain, “uhhhh… eeehhh,” as blackness overtook him.

Rudy felt the last vestiges of super strength empty from Superman into his own body as Superman finally passed out and hung limply in the arms of the villain. The body of the once mighty superhero looked much smaller now after the draining with the muscles about half their original size. Rudy was elated as he realized that not only had he just defeated the most powerful superhero on the planet, he had also fucked and bred him like a helpless slave. Rudy could power brimming across his entire body.

#superman defeated #superman #defeated #superhero defeated #superhero

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chernobog13 · 3 years ago

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No, this isn’t Jon and Damian having a hissy fit. It’s actually Clark Kent Jr. (aka Superman Jr. or Superman ll) and Bruce Wayne Jr. (aka Batman Jr. or Batman ll) in their first appearance as the Super-Sons, at least as a semi-regular feature in World’s Finest. There had been plenty of “imaginary stories” involving offspring of both Superman and Batman before this, but those stories were generally one-shots, and the children were much younger.

In the Super-Sons story series Superman Jr. and Batman Jr. (writer Bob Haney thankfully dropped the “ll” from their names after this initial appearance) were portrayed as typical rebellious teens, tired of living in their fathers’ shadows.

The sons looked almost identical to their fathers, especially in costume, although artist Dick Dillin would occasionally draw Superman Jr with mutton chop sideburns (which were popular at the time (1973).

The boys’ mothers were never identified, and when they appeared their faces were always drawn in shadows so deep it looked like their heads had been dunked in India ink. Superman’s wife was shown with black hair (leading everyone to assume she was Lois Lane). Whoever she was, she was definitely a normal human, because we’re told repeatedly that Superman Jr. half-Kryptonian/half-human.

Batman’s wife was usually drawn with red or auburn hair (which meant she could have been anyone, including Vicki Vale, Pamela Isley/Poison Ivy, Barbara Gordon/Batgirl).

Being half-Kryptonian, Superman Jr.’s power levels are only half of his father’s. In this first story, he is shown being unable to fly, but he can leap up to 100 miles in a single bound. Bullets don’t hurt him, but they leave nasty bruises (a trait he shared with Marvel’s Luke Cage). And while bombs don’t kill him, they render him unconscious. A hallmark of Bob Haney’s writing was lack of consistency, and Superman Jr. was no exception; by his second appearance he was flying effortlessly, although a strong headwind could slow him down.

The Super-Sons proved popular enough that thy appeared ten more times in World’s Finest over the course of the next three years. Writer Haney treated the stories as actual tales from the future and, in his mind at least, it was canon that Superman and Batman would have namesake sons who would embark on these adventures.

Haney’s final Super-Sons tale was in World’s Finest #242 (Dec. 1976). Not too long after that he was no longer the regular writer on the title, and by the end of the decade had pretty much stopped working for DC.

The Super-sons made one final appearance in World’s Finest in issue #263 (July, 1980), written by Denny O’Neil. The boys showed up in the adventure, much to the surprise of their “fathers.” It was revealed that the sons had never existed; they had been simulations Superman had run on his computer in the Fortress of Solitude to show Batman and him what it might be like if they had children. A bizarre accident had caused the computer simulations to come to life, but an energy they gave off was threatening to destroy the planet. Convinced that they weren’t real and posed a threat, the boys sacrificed themselves by diving into Superman’s disintegration pit* and saved the world.

This version of the Super-Sons has returned a few times since, either in Elseworlds tales or stories depicting different Earths in the multiverse. The last time I checked, versions of these Super-Sons were living on Earth-16, but they may have, or probably did, change with the introduction of the DC Omniverse.

* Superman described the disintergration pit, a regular feature in the Fortress at the time, thus: “It’s a sort of atomic cauldron, really, fueled by radioactive Kryptonian elements I obtained from the bottle-city of Kandor long ago. It’ll dissolve almost anything which is dropped into it back into its molecular components within an instant. And that would include yours truly, if I were feeling suicidal.”)

#World's Finest #The Saga of the Super-Sons #Superman #Batman #Superman Jr.#Batman Jr.#DC Comics #digging through my storage unit

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yrmboli · 4 years ago

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“Superman: Year One” or “Young Superman”

Source: https://twitter.com/kennnajean/status/1383125755404582912?s=20

So @kennnajean’s recent posts on twitter about Superman inspired me to write this AU. It’s basically Clark starting out as in his first years as Superman, figuring out the ropes of being a Superhero.

-Clark Kent is a college freshman studying journalism at Metropolis University while interning at the Daily Planet.

-Clark is an overall sweetheart. He’s a kind and gentle optimist with a heart of gold. He can be naïve though, holding a strict code of right and wrong with little flexibility. If the law says its wrong, its wrong. Clark is also extremely awkward and quiet. He has bad posture, walks with a heavy slouch, and has tendency to fade into the background. He breaks a lot of stuff too, saying that “he doesn’t know his own strength” a lot of the time.

-His awkward and shy personality led many to believe that Clark wouldn’t make it in the cutthroat environment of Journalism, but what many didn’t know is his knack for getting into trouble. Clark is nosy, sticking his business where it doesn’t belong a lot, and his habit of fading into the background help him hide in plain sight.

-Clark knows of his powers, but he doesn’t know of his true potential. Bullets can’t penetrate his body, but they still hurt and explosions can knock him out. He’s strong, being able to lift a small car with ease, but nowhere near the feats he’s capable of. He can’t fly yet because he doesn’t know how or even that he can fly, so he can just leap buildings in a single bound. He’s not as strong as the Superman that we know, but he can get there. He just has to train his body and lift the mental blocks he’s cultivated over the years to fit in.

-This is where Wonder Woman comes in. Clark has some inciting incident where he starts his superhero career. No one dies, but it’d probably be where he rescues someone and he realizes how great it feels to be a Superhero. Wonder Woman, AKA Diana Prince, notices the exploits of this new “Superman” and goes to Metropolis to Investigate.

-Wonder Woman, in this AU, has been a Superhero since WW1. The World Wars were a sort of a Golden Age for Superheroes back then, with governments sponsoring these groups of remarkable individuals, with the greatest of them being the Justice Society of America, which Wonder Woman was an original member of. This all changed after WW2 and the politics of the Cold War. Superheroes were questioned of their loyalties due to their secret identities and were given the choice of either retiring, become an enemy of the state, or working directly for the government. Diana worked for the government for awhile until she became disillusioned by it all, deciding to go underground and work as a vigilante instead. Superheroes, by Clark’s time are mostly vigilantes and new ones are incredibly rare.

-So Diana sees a new hero come onto the scene and decides to show him the ropes and teach him everything she knows about the job. She also teaches Clark how to fight. Clark can throw a punch and take a hit from a regular person, but his powers are massive crutch for him. Someone like the immortal Wonder Woman, who was raised in a mythical warrior culture and has decades of experience, wipes the floor with Clark easy.

-For Wonder Woman’s costume, I imagined her with her costume from the 2017 movie, but with the addition of a decorated Corinthian style helmet. I think the helmet would help her hide her identity better because there’s very little difference between Wonder Woman and Diana Prince in terms of how they carry themselves. The shy, clumsy, and humble Clark is different from the proud, stoic, and broad chested Superman, but Diana Prince and Wonder Woman are incredibly alike.

-Diana acts as a mentor for Superman and sort of world weary older sister/elder figure. She’s like if your Grandma was also your buff, ex-Olympic athlete trainer. She can be tough when she needs to, but also kind. She’s a little more cynical than Clark, but almost everybody is.

-Clark also has other mentors. While Wonder Woman teaches him how to be a Hero, Martian Manhunter teaches him his Kryptonian heritage and help him unlock his abilities, while Batman helps him stay human during all this.

-J’onn J’onzz and M’gann M’orzz were Xenoanthropologists back on Mars, with M’gann being the student and J’onn being the chaperone/teacher and originally came to Earth to study its inhabitants. Thanks to their shape shifting and psychic abilities, they were able to embed themselves among the populace and study them closely. They became stranded, however, following what was basically a Martian nuclear war, wiping out their civilization in mere moments. The remaining Martians off world became refugees, J’onn and M’gann among them.

-J’onn studied kryptonians, so he teaches Clark everything he knows about his blood heritage and helps train him to break his mental limits, teaching him to fly, how to shoot lasers from his eyes, freeze stuff with his breath, enhance his vision and hearing, and other abilities of kryptonians. They also talk about their status as Alien immigrants and refugees.

-Batman is around his late 30s to early 40s by this time and has taken Tim Drake and Barbara Gordon under his wing by this time. Batman teaches Superman the gray morals of reality, how the bad guys he’s fighting are still people too, and about humanity. Batman reminds Superman that, despite all his powers and abilities, despite being a Superhero and an Alien, he’s still Clark Kent, the kid from Kansas.

-Lois is a college Junior at Metropolis University also in Journalism, but she actually has a job at the Daily Planet. A small one writing what she calls throwaway articles, but an entry point nonetheless. Lois wants to hit the big leagues and prove herself by pursing the Superman story. Clark admires her headstrong and no nonsense attitude and Lois admires his genuineness.

-Jimmy is Clark’s roommate and got him the internship at the Daily Planet. That’s all I got for Jimmy. Sorry dude.

This is getting long enough, so I’ll leave it at Jimmy. I’ve got a bunch of storylines in my head, but I don’t want to make this any longer.

#superman #wonderwoman #martian manhunter #batman #au #just word vomit #only thoughts head full #lois lane #jimmy olsen

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iamtheblondestblonde · 4 years ago

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The Clark Kent Effect

Part One

AN: So this is meant to be the beginning of a (semi short) series, depending on how well it’s received. Feedback is therefore more than appreciated and always remember I love reading tags. Feel free to message me or send me anons as well, every interaction makes my day :)

To all my American followers: please go vote tomorrow, I don’t even live there but I still know how important it is.

Word Count: 2.9k (short boi)

Warnings: alcohol and one swear word maybe?

Part Two

My other writing can be found here

While your costume had seemed like a great idea two days ago you now thought differently.

Technically it was a great costume, but only because you hadn’t exactly planned on needing to step out of the club to make an angry phone call. Alas here you were, legs shaking and teeth clattering because of your stupidly short dress, this situation the last nail in the coffin that would finally pronounce your disaster with Colin dead for good. You weren’t sad about it in the least, only cold. If only you’d thought of grabbing your jacket on your way outside this wouldn’t be as bad, it was the end of October and you were in New York after all, but you’d been so angry to see his caller ID on your screen that you’d stormed out without thinking, which you now deeply regretted.

Stepping back inside was like heaven and running into a wall at the same time, if said wall was made out of hot air and the smell of sweat, hairspray and alcohol. You really shouldn’t be happy about stuffy air, but at least you weren’t shivering anymore so you were going to mark it down as a success in your books. Since the restrooms were close to your right you made a quick detour, checking if everything was still where it was supposed to be.

At least your boobs hadn’t fallen out yet and you dismissed the judgy stares in the restroom as you readjusted your cleavage and reapplied your bold red lipstick. Normally you’d stare as well, not judging but usually intrigued by women who portrayed such confidence but tonight you were one of these women and you wouldn’t let anyone else ruin it. You’d earned a good night out after finally escaping Colin’s manipulative fuckboy ways and telling him to get lost for good.

So with your chin up and your shoulders straight you stepped out of the restroom, determined to find your group of friends again so you could get drunk and finally have a good time. It took a bit longer than you’d like to admit, your heels only barely giving your tiny frame a height advantage but then you finally spotted the fluffy halo of your best friend. After making sure that it was really her – there were enough angels in this room to make any priest happy after all – you quickly made your way over to her.

Or at least you tried.

You’d only gotten a few steps in when your heel got caught in the costume of a guy dressed up as mummy – which really only consisted of his regular clothes and what you estimated to be about three rolls of toilet paper – and you stumbled. You could already see yourself in the emergency room of the closest hospital with a broken nose from crashing to the ground, blood running down your face and staining your already red dress. Perhaps you could play it off as a part of your costume but it’d still hurt and your night would definitely be over.

But none of that happened because you were saved by a very handsome Superman. He’d stood with his back to you, you’d definitely spotted his broad shoulders underneath the stretched blue fabric earlier, but he’d turned in your direction right before gravity had decided to take its toll on you. Apparently his costume was justified though, because he caught you with cat-like reflexes, wrapping his hands around your arms and pulling you back towards an upright position before anything damaging could happen.

He was a lot taller than you so the first thing you really noticed of him was his throat and perhaps you really should’ve dressed up as a vampire because you noticed that he had a very sexy throat, if that was even a thing. Your weird thoughts were interrupted by him chuckling though and your gaze quickly snapped up to meet his and you really weren’t sure if you should congratulate or scold yourself for how you’d managed to end up in his arms.

The handsome stranger was wearing glasses in true Clark Kent fashion and his hair was better than any DC artist could have dreamed of, perfectly tousled in the way that showed that he liked to run his hands through it and you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tempted to do the same. In the dim lighting of the club you couldn’t make out the color of his eyes behind his glasses but they could honestly be yellow and he’d still be hot as fuck.

Sometime during your almost-fall your hands had ended up on his chest and you really should be embarrassed about the fact that you were practically feeling him up but somehow you couldn’t find yourself to care enough to let go. You relaxed your hands from the tight grasp they had on his shirt and instead carefully splayed them out on his chest as if you were going to push yourself off of him but not really doing so. With how you were pressed against him you could feel the heat radiating through his shirt and how firm his body was, his muscular built more and more evident with every passing second. His hands had started to wander as well, moving up from the side of your arms towards the top of your shoulders, the size of them burning itself into your mind as you just stared at each other.

If one were to ask you what day it was right this moment, you honestly wouldn’t be able to answer them despite everyone in this club dressed in Halloween costumes. Mozart himself could have returned from the dead to perform “Eine kleine Nachtmusik” with a string quartett in the middle of this dancefloor and you probably wouldn’t have noticed right now, too caught up in the eyes of this handsome stranger.

When he reached up with one of his hands to adjust the little devil’s horns on top of your head you blinked in surprise, finally snapping out of your daze.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t mean to crash into you but my heel got caught and-“, you began to ramble, your sense of common decency finally kicking in but he only laughed and since neither of you had taken a step backwards yet you could feel it rumbling through his chest.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind having beautiful girls quite literally falling for me”, he joked and if he were any other guy you probably would’ve scoffed at his choice of words but somehow the boyish charm worked well for him and you found yourself grinning as you came up with a response.

“Mmm let’s hope this isn’t a normal occurrence for you because I’m not a fan of getting caught in traffic.” You finally found the strength to take a, very reluctant, step back, untangling yourself from his grasp and dropping your hands but still smiling up at him. He definitely had the potential to be your catch for the night. You could really use the distraction after all.

Your blissful thoughts were interrupted by someone tugging at your arm though, a look over your shoulder revealing a pouting angel dressed in white and with a bouncing halo. It seemed like Emily had found you instead after you’d gotten distracted by your hero.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over the place for you”, she whined and you could tell by her slurred words that she’d gotten quite the head start while you were outside on your phone as she was well on her way to get plastered. Otherwise she never would’ve interrupted a conversation with a hot guy either, it was an unspoken wingwoman rule after all.

“Come on, Dana just brought a new round of shots and you need to catch up!” And with that she tightened her grip on your wrist and pulled you away. You barely managed to tell the handsome stranger to come find you later before he disappeared between the writhing bodies and was out of your sight.

Way too many shots later you found yourself on the dance floor, intoxicated and having a great time.

Your thoughts hadn’t wandered to Superman in quite a while, too consumed by alcohol and the thumping beat of the music, until you spotted him leaning against the banister of the top floor, drink in one hand and definitely watching you. Again, this would be creepy if he were anyone else but in this case it only made you appreciate the current sensual song even more, your eyes never leaving his as you moved your body to the beat. You were planning on going home with him later either way, you could tease him a little more before then, show him what he could have if he played his cards right.

He was still watching you a couple of songs later when your throat had gotten dry and your heels were starting to grow uncomfortable. In need of a break you pointed towards the bar, hoping that he’d understand and when he nodded you smiled brightly, excusing yourself from your group of friends so you could grab some water. You were done drinking for tonight, much more exciting things laying ahead of you and you wanted to be sober for them.

Water was apparently a welcome change from the regular orders the bartenders got because you were served immediately, a cool bottle set in front of you seconds later. You checked over your shoulder before taking a sip, spotting your Superman as he made his way towards you with a smile, one you returned before turning back around to climb on the stool that had just freed up so you could give your feet a well-deserved break.

When you felt a tap on your shoulder you fully expected it to be the hot guy, your most dazzling smile instantly on your lips as you turned around but it quickly fell off your face as you realized who it really was.

When you were younger you’d often imagined yourself in this moment, thought of what you’d say when you’d finally see him again after all this time apart. A small part of you had pined after him for years and fantasies of how your eyes would meet from across the room and how everything else would stop mattering had filled your daydreams once upon a time. But as you looked at him now there were no butterflies, no fireworks and you could still hear some remix of “Monster Mash” blaring over the speakers, the world was definitely still turning.

Perhaps you’d built up what had been between the two of you in your mind in the years of his absence, put him on a pedestal – he deserved to be one though because through everything he had been nothing short of a great guy – but as you looked at him you realized that all that was in the past. There was just a warm afterglow of what once was. As you looked at him now, there was absolutely no doubt that you didn’t love Anthony Beauvillier anymore.

“I wasn’t sure if it was really you, but wow Y/N you look great”, his familiar voice met your ears and it took you a second to realize that he’d slipped into French, the way the two of you had done countless times as teenagers.

You probably resembled a fish with the way you were opening and closing your mouth without saying anything but you couldn’t help yourself. Seeing Tito in this club had hit you like a fright train and you hadn’t expected it at all, which only made it worse.

Almost 20 Million people lived in New York State and over 8.3 Million in New York City alone. Brooklyn housed well over 500.000 people as well and yet you still managed to run into your ex in this club, despite the both of you growing up in Québec. If you were any good at math you would calculate the probability of this happening but you’d always sucked at it and it really wouldn’t help your situation either. You reminded yourself that you both worked here now but that was absolutely beside the point.

Before you managed to embarrass yourself even further you shook your head to clear your thoughts, smiling at the guy who had once held your heart before making the break into the NHL. He was dressed as a boy scout, with medals pinned to his shirt, the scarf thingy and everything and the costume was so incredibly him that you immediately felt catapulted back into your teenage years. It was easy to fall back into your old routine then.

“Oh yeah, do you think your Mom would still speak so highly of me if she saw me dressed as a slutty devil?”, you joked and he threw his head back in laughter, taking you even more by surprise when he threw his arms around you in a hug. It was a bit awkward with you sitting on the bar stool and all and it made you realize that he himself didn’t even feel the same anymore, his career of being a professional athlete shaping his body into a much more bulkier version of the one you were used to.

As you looked over his shoulder you caught the gaze of your Superman and your thoughts immediately returned to him. What must he be thinking of you hugging another stranger at the bar after telling him to come see you? The confusion was evident of his face, a crease between his eyebrows giving his thoughts away and you noticed how he scrunched up his nose in a very cute way so you immediately pulled back from Tito, reaching up to adjust your horns as a disguise for your sudden movement.

“So, did you finally manage to make your dreams of living and working in New York City come true?”, he asked as he took a step closer to let someone else pass by and you nodded, amazed that he still remembered after all these years. He really was one of the good guys.

“Yep, I finally made it, although it’s not as glamorous as I thought it would be. But maybe that’s only us working class people, I’m sure it’s a lot different in your line of work.” Thankfully he picked up on your teasing and wasn’t insulted, only laughing even more as he finally had the space to move next to you so he could look at the crowd as well.

“Speaking of work..”, he trailed off as he switched back to English and to your utter disbelief he waved your Superman over. Superman was reluctant to move at first, that much you could tell by looking at him, and since you watched him extra closely you were probably the only one to catch him flinching a little as Tito threw his arm around his shoulders but his confused expression was obvious as he looked between the two of you.

“Y/N, this is my teammate and best friend Mat, I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Mat, this is my ex Y/N. You’ve also heard of her.”

Of course you’d heard of Mathew Barzal, last year’s Calder winner and rising star among the NHL’s elite players but it seemed like you were a victim of the Clark Kent Effect because you hadn’t recognized him at all with the glasses on.

Now your Superman had a name but the only thing you could focus on were the words “best friend”. No matter how hot Mat was and how much you’d wanted him before, very much imagining him helping you out of your tight dress, you couldn’t do that to Tito.

Mat seemed to come to the same realization as you because he plastered what could only be described as a business smile on his face, extending his hand for you to shake. You took it, relishing in the way his warm palm felt against yours and allowing yourself to enjoy his touch one last time before letting go and smiling at him with sad eyes as you introduced yourself.

Tito stayed to order a drink, pulling Mat and you into a conversation and therefore preventing your escape and while that was already bad enough in itself, he unknowingly took your breath away when he asked Mat:

“Hey, did you ever find that hot klutz you told me about? The one that fell into your arms earlier?”

Tito had his back towards the both of you so he didn’t see the way Mat looked down at you with sad eyes as well before pulling himself together and responding:

“Yeah, but turns out she’s not available after all.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur, you’d returned to alcohol after saying goodbye to Tito and Mat and promising Tito to stay in touch, so you barely remembered climbing into an uber hours later and only really came to your senses when you chugged a water bottle in your kitchen.

“Wait, weren’t you planning on going home with that hot Superman you mentioned earlier? What happened to him?”, Emily asked from her spot on the couch, her usual spot after a night out since your apartment was closer.

“I guess he left”, you answered, not really willing to go into any details right now.

“Aw, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

And wasn’t that the truth.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #new york islanders #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey writing #my writing #nhl players #nhl

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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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“Girls’ schools promoted an intense female peer culture which contrasted with the disciplines of moralistic home environments. Evidence from the accounts of girls attending the myriad female seminaries and girls’ boarding schools throughout the Northeast suggests that their academic programs were relatively gentle, and that their peer culture was powerful and often fun. Despite the best efforts of outnumbered teachers, relations with friends tended to overshadow lessons learned. Overwhelmingly when girls wrote home to their parents, they described the girls they had met, and the antics they had shared; in diaries they noted the romantic intimacies they had formed, with academic work generating only occasional mention.

Girls’ peer life at school was high-spirited, collective, and ritualized all at once. Teachers themselves often participated. At Miss Porter’s in Farmington, Connecticut, in 1860, teachers organized a costume party, suggested characters for everyone, and helped sew costumes—perhaps in part a sewing lesson. (For Lily Dana, suggestions included an elf, Mischief, or a witch.) At a Prospect Hill School party in 1882, townspeople came, the girls wore flowers and white dresses, and Margaret Tileston reported that she had done the quadrille with Miss Clarke and the gallop with Miss Tuxbury—concluding that she had had ‘‘a very nice time.’’

Girls remembering their days at convent schools report similar good times. Julia Sloane Spalding recalled elegiacally her years at Nazareth Academy, a school run by the Sisters of Charity in Louisville, Kentucky, in the 1850s. ‘‘The sisters allowed us to romp and play, dance and sing as we pleased and our stage performances were amusing, if they had no greater merit. Musical soirees, concerts, serenades and minstrelsy kept our spirits attuned to gladness. Varied by picnics, lawn parties, hayrides, phantom parties, nutting parties in summer and candy pullings and fancy balls with Nazareth’s colored band to fiddle.’’

Exclaimed Spalding, ‘‘O what fun!’’ in fond reflection on the good times among the sisters who served ‘‘good substantial sandwiches, cakes and fruit’’ from ‘‘great big baskets.’’ She concluded, ‘‘and so, the spice of life conduced to our health and happiness.’’ Mary Anne Murphy arrived at Nazareth Academy with her sister in 1859 during a quadrille, the slave musicians calling out the figures. She and her sister stood in ‘‘wonderment that such fun was tolerated in a convent.’’ Whatever the nostalgia of middle age, certainly these reflections suggest that elite Catholic and Protestant girls’ academies left some of their richest memories in collective fun.

If teachers sponsored some activities, they implicitly sanctioned many more. Wilfrida Hogan attended the Sisters of St. Joseph convent school in St. Paul in the 1870s and remembers fondly her class, which was known for its lively irreverence: ‘‘Each girl seemed to view the other as to who could play the biggest pranks, or have the most fun.’’

Ellen Emerson overflowed with delight in a letter to her mother (significantly, not her father) while at Miss Sedgwick’s School in Lenox, Massachusetts: ‘‘Every night we do things which it seems to me I can never remember without laughing if I should live to be a hundred. The most absurd concerts, ludicrous charades, peculiar battles etc. etc. Then the wildest frolics, the loudest shrieks, the most boisterous rolling and tumbling that eye ever saw, ear ever heard or heart ever imagined. I consider myself greatly privileged that every night I can see and join such delightful romps.’’

When teachers were around, the pranks were more likely to occur upstairs in student bedrooms. Lily Dana and friends joined together to victimize two other girls by putting crumbs in their bed, and cutting off candle wicks. Another evening Dana noted that she ‘‘Had some fun throwing pillows and nightgowns,’’ and though Miss Porter caught her, it did not seem to dampen much her spirits. Teachers at girls’ schools were occasion- ally disciplinarians, clearly.

One teacher told Lily Dana that ‘‘she supposed my mother let me do everything,’’ and the sisters at St. Mary’s Academy in South Bend, Indiana, turned the piano to the wall in order to keep girls from waltzing with each other. Yet students often emerged victorious; at St. Mary’s they played combs for dance music instead. (One participant reported that ‘‘the Sisters had to give up, for they knew not what to do.’’) The ideology of nurture combined with the shared exuberance of age mates overpowered much teacherly remonstrance.

It is sometimes hard to read such tales of schoolgirl exuberance without wondering whether the inmates had taken over the asylum, however, so a corrective is in order. One such account which requires a second look is the spirited account of Agnes Repplier, In Our Convent Days (1906), about her time in the late 1860s at a Pennsylvania school run by the Sisters of the Sacred Heart. Repplier writes of the pranks and passions of her band of seven partners in crime, in an ebulliant account designed to appeal to a readership newly attracted to childhood naughtiness in revolt against Victorian propriety. It is clear in retrospect, though, that she must have concealed or minimized an- other side to her experiences. For the denouement of her story is her expulsion and removal from a school she adored.

Peer cultures could also be cruel and hurtful beyond the control of evangelical teachers, as the practices of hazing in British public schools testify. Some of the most painful memories of inclusion and exclusion in girls’ schools centered around that most primal of media, the sharing of food. Food boxes, customarily sent from home, were the occasion for impromptu parties, a demonstration of wealth and taste, or an opportunity to play favorites.

The elation which greeted such arrivals might well prove a commentary on the regular fare at boarding schools, which sometimes undoubtedly was very poor. (The advice giver Mary Virginia Terhune’s critique of girls’ boarding schools included the accusation that they fed their students from a ‘‘common vat’’ which supplied breakfast, dinner, and supper all together, a practice partially confirmed by one account of eating the same stew at least twice a day at an Ursuline academy in San Antonio in the 1890s.)

At any rate, the arrival of food from home occasioned select gatherings and provided opportunities for discrimination among friends. When one friend’s mother brought good things to eat, Josie Tilton noted that ‘‘we’’ had a feast tonight, explaining for the future who she would always mean when she said ‘‘we’’—‘‘Lizzie, Emma, May and I’’— the groupness secured by inclusion in this select group of diners.

Lily Dana suspected a friend of being miserly and so snuck into her room to inspect. ‘‘There was a box which had been filled with cake, part of a pie and several other things filling her trunk nearly half full. . . . If I had a box sent to me I think I should give my friend more than ‘five or six cookies.’’’ If girls could feel short-changed by each other, relations with parents could also strain over the sending of food boxes, which represented extremely conspicuous con- sumption for girls attempting to ‘‘belong.’’

In an unusually direct letter home in the 1840s, Maria Nellis passed on to her parents her unmediated hurt and sense of disadvantage in the competition for food—and the status that came with it. Elizabeth got her box yesterday and was favoured with six times more things than I was. Her box was so large and heavy the master found it his match to carry it upstairs. She has 4 kinds of cake, nuts, apples, candy, clothing and every thing else, but after all, Dear Poppy, I am not jealous. . . . When you sent that box you did not send half what I asked. I was very disappointed. You said it would be eatables, but it wasn’t. You sent only a few apples, one cake and some clothes. Why didn’t you send me some nuts? I haven’t had a nut yet this winter, and indeed I expected nuts above all things. E. Fox had a box worth speaking of. Now that shows that you don’t care enough for me to even send me a few nuts.

Intermittently, Nellis regained control, but her grievance was palpable. Finally at the end, she acknowledged to her parents that she might be hurting their feelings, reassured them that she loved them all with ‘‘a deep and fervent love,’’ and promised better behavior in the future. Clearly at stake for her was both status in the school world and a primitive sense of deprivation in her own family.

As the correspondence suggests, the emotional atmosphere in girls’ boarding schools was not only intense but more expressive and enacted than that within moralistic, Victorian households. Within private, female, boarding academies, duty-bound Victorian daughters learned languages of sentiment, desire, and emotional excess censored from other parts of their lives. The elaborate conventions accompanying the expression and affirmation of affection among boarding-school girls, sometimes involving teachers as well, was indeed a separate ‘‘female world of love and ritual,’’ as Carroll Smith-Rosenberg affirmed in a classic article about nineteenth-century women’s culture.

In recent years, Smith-Rosenberg’s ‘‘Female World of Love and Ritual’’ has been attacked for its overgeneralizing characterization of an exclusively female emotional sphere in the nineteenth century, but her strongest evidence confirms the significance, the power, and the longevity of girls’ boarding school friendships, which were enacted through elaborate rituals in a range of schools.

The rituals of boarding school life centered around the making and breaking of special friendships, known variously as ‘‘affinities,’’ ‘‘specials,’’ or ‘‘darlings’’ and increasingly as either ‘‘smashes’’ or ‘‘crushes.’’ One way of expressing interest was to ‘‘filipine’’ with someone, to leave her a surprise gift outside her door. (When Lily Dana was caught, she needed to give her gift, a large apple, outright.) Such relationships played out in diaries, letters, and the poetry of autograph books. Girls expected to pair up for many school activities and entertained a variety of ‘‘dates’’ with different girls for walking, going to church, and sleeping.

Sally Dana wrote home to her mother explaining that she was following her father’s advice not to form special friendships too soon, and so had ‘‘slept in eight different beds.’’ During these private moments, girls would share secrets about their own likes and dislikes, each other, their teachers, families, and their school lives. The intricacy of such social calendars opened ample opportunities for misunderstanding and frayed feelings.

These peer relationships characterized elite female seminaries in the North- east, but they also appeared in a range of schools, including the African American Scotia Seminary, founded by the American Missionary Association in Concord, North Carolina, following the Civil War. Scotia had northern roots, which may have influenced its student culture. Glenda Gilmore tells us it was modeled on Mount Holyoke, and was ‘‘calculated to give students the knowledge, social consciousness, and sensibilities of New England ladies, with a strong dose of Boston egalitarianism sprinkled in.’’

Roberta Fitzgerald went to Scotia in the early twentieth century and kept a composition book, likely in 1902, which was filled with the talismans of schoolgirl crushes. A note inside addressed to ‘‘Dear Roberta’’ asked, ‘‘Will you please exchang rings with me today and you may ware mine again,’’ and Roberta herself wrote a sad poem to a friend ‘‘Lu’’ who had thrown her over.

And so you see as I am deemed

Most silently to wait

I cannot but be womanlike

And meekly await my fate.

Ah! sweet it is to love a girl

But truly oh! how bitter

To love a girl with all your heart

And then to hear ‘‘Cant get her.’’

And Lulu dear as I must here

Relinquish with a moan

May your joys be as deep as the ocean

And your sorrow as light as its foam.

On the back of the notebook, which also contained class assignments, was a confidence exchanged with a seatmate. ‘‘I was teasing Bess Hoover about you and she told me she loved you dearly.’’

For those much in demand, this charged atmosphere of flirtation and intimacy in the North and South represented an exhilarating round of fun and sport. For those less secure, diaries and letters presented an obvious outlet for the anguish of the neglected. Agnes Hamilton, a member of a Fort Wayne clan which sent several daughters to boarding school on their way to prominent careers in progressive America, experienced some of both. Sometimes she basked in the glow of family reputation; often she worried over her own inability to keep up with her illustrious cousins. Her unusually detailed accounts document an entire school culture rather than just an individual emotional life.

Hamilton’s first impressions of school social life at Miss Porter’s School were favorable, but even these revealed insecurities to come. In an entry from November 1886, when she was seventeen, Hamilton noted that ‘‘Farmington is just as perfect as they all said it would be, the girls, Miss Porter, and all.’’ Her reservation had to do with her own imperfections: ‘‘But I don’t think I am the right sort of a Farmington girl.’’ Even so, Agnes was in demand, describing a flurry of close attentions from numerous girls. A week later, in her cousin’s absence, she received displaced attentions:

Yesterday Mannie was very nice to me. I suppose she thinks I am lonely without Alice. We walked past the fill around by the river to the graveyard. Then she came in and we talked for an hour. All evening we were together. This afternoon we walked together too for Tuesday is her day with Alice. We went down to the green house where Mannie gave me some lovely roses. I would give anything to know what she thinks of me. . . . Will I ever be able to talk and be jolly as other girls? Some girls are frightfully stupid and yet they can make themselves somewhat agreeable. I have struck up a sudden friendship with Lena Farnam. We were together Saturday afternoon and evening and Sunday I asked her to be my church girl in Alice’s place.

Agnes was still in a position to be picky, noting one drawback: Lena ‘‘seems very nice indeed but I wish she were not only fifteen.’’ Lena was far from the only prospect. Agnes noted another new friend: ‘‘I have seen a great deal lately of Edith Trowbridge too. When she overcomes her shyness she will be exceedingly nice.’’ Not surprisingly, with all the intensity of the socializing, Agnes mentioned with no comment that only three out of thirteen in the class were prepared for their lessons that Tuesday. In those early weeks, Agnes Hamilton’s enthusiasm for this exciting life of emotional intrigue was palpable. The next week (she seems to have written on Tuesdays), Agnes announced to her diary ‘‘the jolliest crush in school’’ involving one of her very own intimates of the week before.

‘‘I walked with Edith Trowbridge this afternoon, on purpose to have her tell me about Lena. I hinted and hinted in vain. I told her about every other crush in school but she never said a word about Lena’s, so at last I told her that I knew all about it but even then she would not say a word about the subject. I hope she will tell Lena so that she will speak to me about it next Saturday when we are driving.’’ The triangulation of such relationships increased the possibilities for intrigue. Agnes wearied a bit of the uncooperative Edith, though, observing that though ‘‘very nice . . . she did not get over her stiffness.’’

Agnes Hamilton seemed to be trying to do her schoolwork, but her roller- coaster social life intervened. One day when she was preparing for class, a friend came by to teach her a dance step, from which she was interrupted by the arrival of a buggy she had rented to take another friend for a ride, the same girl whose ‘‘jolly’’ crush had amused her the week before. (‘‘The more I see of her the better I like,’’ she now reported. ‘‘Her face is rather attractive at first and then it grows on one.’’) When she returned, she found another visitor who stayed till it was time for tea.

The result: ‘‘I have not looked at my Mental since Thursday.’’ By the end of the same day, yet a new ‘‘crush’’ had taken over when Agnes got word of someone’s interest in her, and Agnes wondered ‘‘if I have ever been as actively happy.’’ The frenzy had settled down a week later, when Agnes announced that she had all her walking days ‘‘just as I want them.’’ Each day of the week was assigned a different companion, with whom Agnes would exchange intimacies and gossip, using the rituals of girls’ school life to structure its emotional extravagance.

One must conclude that the intensity of the social life was seen to serve some purpose, for evidence suggests that it was allowed to flourish until the turn of the century. (Lily Dana noted that Miss Porter’s permission had been sought for at least one and probably more sleeping dates.) At that time, new sexualized interpretations of girls’ and women’s friendships brought a crackdown on such friendships. At the time, though, they appear to have received official sanction. In fact, one of the first of Ladies’ Home Journal ’s ‘‘Side Talks with Girls’’ took up the question of ‘‘School Girl Friendships.’’ The Journal endorsed such girlish relationships for their innocence and energy and their precious brevity, saluting ‘‘the giddy, gushing period’’ as one which ‘‘never comes to some and to most it soon passes.’’

In particular, it contrasted this girlish spontaneity with the superficiality of the jaded young lady. Its contrast of ‘‘young girls, lively, radiant, energetic, spirited, loving girls’’ with ‘‘young ladies who talk of their beaux, dresses and the surface shows of society’’ represented another version of a conventional warning against precociousness. Girls’ crushes on other girls were still perceived as innocent and healthy—and would be well after doctors first began to cast suspicion over such relationships in the 1880s and 1890s.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Competitive Practices: Sentiment and Scholarship in Secondary Schools.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

#victorian #history #education #sexuality #american #jane h. hunter #how young ladies became girls

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