The NYC co-op board application process is not easy (which is why we at Brick have dedicated dozens of posts and even an entire series to it), but as is...
“I could teach you.” Startled, Lily blinked. “What?” “To fly. I could teach you how to fly. Properly, I mean, not that rubbish from first year.” She sat back in her seat, sighing. She’d known he wouldn’t understand — after all, wasn’t he one of the very purebloods she’d described? — but still it stung. “That’s… that’s not really the point, Potter.” “I know,” he said, seriously enough that she believed him. “But I can’t fix those other things. I can teach you how to fly, though.” Immediately she was shaking her head and folding her arms protectively across her chest. “I don’t know…” “You were right before,” he went on. “You don’t need to know how to fly. There are loads of other ways to get around, and it doesn’t mean you’re bad at being a witch. But I still think you’re missing out, and you shouldn’t have to miss out because of something that happened in first year, or because a bunch of inbred idiots want to drag our society back to the Dark Ages.” His expression was earnest now, the usual mischievous glint gone from his eyes. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want. But if you’d like to learn, I’d like to help. What do you think?” James takes Lily flying. Oh my heart.
With 'Check Please,' A Comics Creator Rewrites The Rules — And Scores : NPR
Bitty Bittle is a gay college hockey star who loves making pies. He's the main character in the popular hockey webcomic "Check Please," created by Ngozi Ukazu — who incidentally cannot skate.
Steve laughs, and—miracle he had scarcely dared to pray for—Bucky does too, a brief but bright burst of sound that Steve hasn’t heard in decades. If he could have, he’d have cupped the sound in his palms like sweet water from a well, he’d have swallowed it down as if he were dying of thirst. Instead he turns his face into Bucky’s shoulder to hide the sting of sudden tears, and Bucky brings his metal hand up to cup Steve’s head, thumb stroking briefly across the line of his jaw. The shaky breath Bucky lets out says Steve’s not the only one abruptly affected. Steve’s heart beats faster, too much gratitude and love to fill its four chambers. Bucky’s heart is as steady as ever, the metronome by which Steve has measured his life, and Steve tries to match it again. Exquisitely lovely recovery for Bucky (and Steve too), with lots and lots of delicious pining. (Peggy is mentioned but oddly absent otherwise.)
Thoughtful, enjoyable AU series where Luke is raised as Prince of Alderaan and Leia is living on Tatooine with the Larses. Five stories so far, but each is complete. Does some really interesting things with Leia, especially. (there are some weird occasional word choice issues that I don't quite understand, but they didn't bother me enough to stop reading.)
Beru has spent enough time with her sister’s children to know that some babies are difficult. But the way Luke cries isn’t the same as the others she’s known. He doesn’t scream loud enough to pierce her eardrums, he doesn’t rage or whine when he is hungry or his diaper needs changing. The med-droid at Anchorhead says he is in perfect health. But still, Luke cries on and on with tiny, heartbreaking sobs. “What could he possibly want?” Owen asks her one morning, his voice heavy with frustration. “I don’t know,” Beru says, because she thinks that Owen will scoff if she suggests that Luke is grieving. He would be right, too, Beru thinks -- how could an infant barely a month old be aware of all that he has lost? Lovely look at Beru during Luke's infancy.
"Do you ever meditate?" "Not really," she says. She's always preferred to be active, that sort of concentrated reflection isn't for her. "You are very like your father," Kenobi says. People frequently compare her to Bail, and Leia feels a warm glow every time it happens, but this doesn't quite feel like a compliment and Leia frowns. "Meditation can help you," he says. Leia accompanies the droids to the surface of Tatooine and meets Ben Kenobi, and his young friend, Luke. Aw heart.
There's a long moment, and later Ezra knows it's a moment where he could have given in to sorrows and angers he's been carrying since he was seven years old. But he can sense the Force in Luke, can sense it like a beacon. He sees the honest, worried confusion on his open face and in his clear eyes. He's not a Sith or another servant of the Dark Side. He's a lonely kid who lost his family and got a lucky shot at the Death Star. Ezra doesn't think much of the Rebellion's new hero, but then he gets to know him a little. Oh boys.
“No, seriously, Princess. This would be a lot easier for both of us if you’d get the chip off your shoulder.” And what sort of help do you imagine I need from you? Leia bit back the tart reply. Her mother would say she was being snotty. Because she was be snotty, and prickly, and defensive -- all her character flaws, wrapped up in one neat package. “What sort of help do you have in mind?” she managed. Not civil, exactly, but she could do worse. Had done worse. Many times. Han shrugged. “I don’t know. Whatever you need.” Han and Leia in the early days after Yavin. Oh my heart.
Peter was different than Johnny had imagined he’d be, with them together, whenever Johnny had guiltily let himself imagine it. He was goofy. A little ridiculous. Stupidly romantic. It had been so long since Johnny had had this, and never with the sheer intensity Peter poured into it. Johnny didn’t know why he was surprised; everything about Peter was like someone had turned the knob up to eleven. All the complaining he did as Peter pulled him to his feet was a bad cover for how much he loved it. Wistfully sweet Johnny/Peter.