#absolute

[margueritesauvage]

Absolute Superman #21 variant cover illustration - this series features one of the hottest version of Superman imo - and this cape is a delight design wise! ❤️🔥📚

[zldnlahzk]

[alinamghart]

The past and the present fighting for Letho's soul. The lure of the past in all its bloody glory and the present, a new beginning without the shadow of a pre-definite destiny. Both equally frightening. What shall he pick, to complete his purpose as the Dark Urge or choose a new life where he is his own master?

[basixlena]

My absolute Starfire design!

[godzillavenomous]

My take on how I think Jo will look after getting a proper suit plus b’ox cameo

[browsethestacksofficial]

Absolute Batman

Art by Daniel Warren Johnson

[forgotten80sfilm]

when shane is eleven he gets an ottawa centaurs snapback and it immediately becomes his thing. he doesn’t really care about clothes as long as they don’t make him itch under his skin, but this hat? he loves it. there’s something about the combination of hometown pride mixed with blocking the light from his eyes mixed with the constant even pressure all around his skull. honestly the design of it is nothing special, actually its probably the most boring piece of centaurs merchandise ever made. it’s plain black with red embroidery, ‘ottawa centaurs 2002.’ but still, wearing his hat makes him feel hidden and seen at the same time. like if it’s on his head, maybe he can look people in the eye, even if it’s just for a few seconds longer than usual. i’m not saying he wears it every day for the next 7 years.. but he might’ve. needless to say, it’s a comfort item and he’s very glad it’s adjustable otherwise he would have outgrown it a long time ago.

then he’s drafted. to montreal. and between the disappoint of being drafted second and the elation of being drafted and whatever happened with ilya rozanov in the hotel gym and the prospect of his future, it hits him. fuck. no one is going to take him seriously in montreal wearing his hat. not just the hat of a competitor, but the hat of a fucking loser not-even-real-competition competitor. this thing, his thing, the thing that gives him comfort, he’s going to have to leave behind. he feels stupid for having a panic attack- for crying- over a stupid hat. but he does. he can’t help it. he shoves his snapback into a box in the back of the closet of his childhood bedroom because if he takes it to montreal with him he doesn’t trust himself not to cave to the desire for comfort. he feels like his head is somehow heavier with the hat off. like atop his neck there’s a bowling ball that no longer has something to hold it in place. he tries to find a voyagers hat but none of them are quite the same. that one’s not a snapback, that one has a weird mesh on it, that one makes his hair get all sweaty within thirty seconds of wearing it. none of them are worn in the way a hat can only be after seven fucking years of wear. but hey. maybe this is good. maybe this is growing up. yeah, he’s in the nhl now. he doesn’t need some stupid hat as a crutch. he’s not shane anymore, he’s shane hollander. he doesn’t need anything.

when he pulls out the box again it’s the summer of 2021. for awhile, he doesn’t know how long, he sits on the floor of his old room and stares at the hat in his hands. the red embroidery stares back at him ‘ottawa centaurs 2002.’ he feels sick to his stomach. he feels… excited? he thinks if he puts this hat back on he might not take it off again. he thinks if he puts on this hat, he might just be shane. not shane hollander. shane. and for some reason that really fucking scares him.

“are you going to wear it?”

shane blinks then looks up and over to where ilya is leaning in the doorframe.

“hi.” ilya gives him a little wave, “i’m your husband. you remember me?”

“shut up.” shane shakes his head, looking back down again but this time with a fond smile tugging at his lips.

ilya plops himself down at shane’s side, arm behind his back, chin resting on his shoulder, “2002? you were what, fourteen?”

“i was eleven, ilya.” shane rolled his eyes, turning to face him “and so were you. stop acting like i’m so much older than you.”

“you are older than me.” he grins, “thirty-six days, very sexy.”

“a whole thirty-six days older, wow.” shane mutters, closing the gap and kissing him. he goes willingly as ilya manhandles him over into his lap. his hat ends up between them and when he pulls away ilya snatches it up. he turns it around, inspecting the snap back.

“should still fit you,” ilya holds it up next to shane’s head for reference, “you want to try?”

shane’s relieved to have ilya put the hat on him, somehow that takes away the agony of any future repercussions. maybe because it feels like it wasn’t his decision to put it on so he can get away with having it again. maybe because he knows all of this turmoil is inside his head and ilya doesn’t have any clue. he sees the logical conclusion, find a hat, put it on, simple. this can be simple. he doesn’t say anything, just tips his head forward to indicate ‘go ahead.’ when ilya puts the snapback on his head it feels like the first time when david plucked it off the merch display, plopped it on shane’s head and laughed when it fell over his eyes, declaring ‘you’ll grow into it.’ it’s much tighter around his head than it used to be, he could probably afford to undo a snap or two but he won’t. he missed the pressure like he misses a hug from his mom when he’s stressed. he looks forward right at ilya’s eyes and he stays there, the twist of sour he usually gets from eye contact sort melting into something almost sweet, almost normal. he lets out a shuddering breath and lifts his hands from where they landed on ilya’s shoulders and shakes them out to move the energy around. it’s good energy he thinks, he feels like laughing. laughing at how silly he was for ever putting this thing- his thing- away and laughing at the joy of having it back now and laughing at the realization that he’s a centaur now, he can wear his hat wherever the fuck he wants and actually maybe he always could. who gives a fuck?

“you’re happy.” ilya smiles, it’s not a question, it’s an observation, it makes shane’s heart soar. yeah, he’s really fucking happy. happy to be here. happy to be home. happy to have a piece of himself back. ilya cups his face and brushes at his cheeks with his thumbs moving away tears. shane’s eyes were watering and he didn’t notice. he looks down to his lap, the embarrassment is mild and it doesn’t put a damper on the big huge happy thing that is filling his chest.

“still fits.” he murmurs for lack of an adequate way to describe the sensation he’s feeling.

ilya hums, “looks good on you.”

“no one looks good in a snapback, ilya.” the protest is soft and unconvincing and completely reflexive. argument made for arguments sake. ilya understands.

“you look good in everything.” he grabs the brim and tugs it playfully down in front of shane’s face earning himself a muttered ‘fuck you’ as he fixes it, “but not everything makes you happy. this makes you happy, so it’s my new favorite on you.”

“yeah?” he doesn’t have to ask but at this point he wants ilya to keep talking. talking and looking at him like he is right now. the look on his face reminds him that just being shane isn’t a bad thing. sometimes being shane can be the best thing in the world.

“mm yes, snapback shane is very handsome, he should stick around.”

the laughter bubbling up in him finally escaped. he quickly reaches up and twists his hat around so the brim is no longer in the way of kissing his sweet, soft, funny husband.

“i think i can convince him to stay awhile.”