#*or Thursday

[eqt-95]

a new kind of romance, pt 8

part 7 | mistletoe magic - - - - -

🎆 | new years

Kara was late.

She was more than late.

Maybe that’s why she took the long way back to National City; first cutting down the Appalachian before soaring over the long expanse of Texas then diverting toward the Grand Canyon and finally getting lost over the Rockies.

Hours had passed. Too many, by Kara’s calculations. Even before her detour, midnight had come and gone. Fireworks rang in a new chapter and exploded in bright, bursting colors overhead as a taunting reminder. Because Supergirl didn’t have time for things like new beginnings no matter how much Kara Danvers wanted it. 

Because Kara was late.

She was more than late.

Now instead of fireworks, the expanse of darkness was broken by glistening stars in a cloudless sky. The silence was broken by the moaning of snowy mountains and the raging of rushing waters and the howling of winds, but that orchestra of sounds did nothing to distract from the thoughts rattling in her own mind.

Thoughts that hadn’t quieted for nearly two weeks.

It was in this state of unchanged unsettledness that she resigned herself toward the skyline she called home; a home where parties had ended and resolutions were made and the chance of a midnight kiss had passed.

Because Kara was late.

She was more than late.

Maybe that was why she lingered high above the city’s tallest penthouse littered with forgotten balloons, confetti, empty champagne bottles, and champagne problems. Because how could Kara hold it against the innocent lives caught in a burning building for the heartbreak her life was on the cusp of?

She watched a lone silhouette weave around the couch and chairs, stacking plates and collecting flutes. And oh how that silhouette looked stunning, dressed down into a familiar sweatshirt with cuffs bunched at the wrists and a stark contrast to the gown Kara knew Lena was wearing at the strike of midnight.

Because Kara was late.

She was more than late.

“Here, let me get these.”

Maybe it was the guilt and regret and ache to undo the last three hours of absence that made Kara miss the second silhouette and the second heartbeat and the way the first silhouette gave in to the offered help.

Plates were stacked in companionable silence until surfaces were cleared and the memory of an evening Kara had no memory of vanished, leaving only Lena and Andrea.

Maybe it was the denial and blind hope and arrogance that she still had a chance that made Kara miss the soft music playing through the penthouse and the way Andrea’s hips swayed to the tempo and the way she stepped into Lena’s personal space and the way she led her into the open area still littered with forgotten bits of glitter and color and spun her round and round and made Lena’s somber expression break into a gentle smile and sent a pair of hands that were not Kara’s securely around her waist.

But there Andrea was, standing in for a role Kara wanted to play.

“Any New Year’s resolutions?” Andrea asked mid-spin, and it made Kara’s chest ache.

“You know I don’t.”

Andrea hummed thoughtfully. “I guess hoping and resolutions are different.”

“That isn’t…” Lena began, halting mid-step and posture stiffening. “It’s different, Andy.”

And for a moment Kara found her own hope again in the way Lena stepped backward. It was shattered when Andrea followed.

“I know, I know,” Andrea replied, and the softness felt real - just as real as the way her hands tugged Lena back into her space. “That was tactless.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t,” Andrea said, a hand rising to cup Lena’s downturned face, “and I’m sorry. I just worry.”

“There’s no need.”

“Isn’t there?”

“Andy-”

“You can’t hold your breath forever,” Andrea whispered in a way that would feel intimate to Lena but was a megaphone in Kara’s ears. 

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

And Lena didn’t deny it this time with words. She confessed it with a broken sob. An exhale.

Kara was late.

She was more than late.

- - - - - - part 9 | dumplings

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Knowledge Revenge.

[specialagentartemis]

Saw a post pointing out that the idea of a Saturday-Sunday weekend is in itself cultural Christianity being applied to the whole “secular” world, that in Israel the weekend is Friday-Saturday and in some Muslim-majority countries the weekend is Thursday-Friday or only Friday (in others it’s Friday-Saturday as well.)

Anyway to make a truly secular and inclusive world I propose a Monday-Wednesday work-week and a Thursday-Sunday weekend. I think anyone of any or no religion could all get behind this.

[ikyiri]

Sonic let him sleep!!!! 🗣️

[possamble]

oh they super understood the assignment this time holy shit

[entropyofnuance]

Dean: lol Cas is such a silly nerdy angel

Everyone else: dear god Castiel is heavenly wrath personified. He is filled with bloodlust and has killed more of his brethren than any angel who came before him. He can kill you before you even know you’re dead or he can torture you so effectively you forget your own name. He is the most deadliest soldier heaven has ever produced, even when his grace has been stripped from him and he is left as nothing but a human. Those who have tried to control him have paid dearly for their hubris. No one can keep him dead, not even God himself

Dean: lmao Cas come watch a cowboy movie with me in our matching cowboy hats

[cabbagedreamss]

thunderbolts* thursday: scene redraw

[piannpire]

happy out of touch dannyversary to all who celebrate

bonus textless version vv

[dailymothanon]

I really like @suja-janee ‘s fellas and I wanted to draw them, so. How I imagine a human Soundwave would deploy his boys except I do not take it seriously.. the answer is obviously to deploy them discus throwing style, clearly. He must be real good at it so I’ve heard (not a single soul has uttered such a thing to me). Poor TC really thought he’d just witnessed death probably, but don’t blame him, he expected Soundwave to be normal

[vulturevanity]

21st night of September Thursday

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[dollythatdollgirl]

Why I think history is repeating itself once again with the French Revolution. So as you all remember earlier this year with the whole haleyybaylee “let them eat cake” met gala thing snd how that felt like the biggest fuck you because their were literally protesters in the back of her video and then when she started to get backlash she was like “ I’m just a normal person” no you’re not. There was a light behind her that cost over 1,000 dollars just causally there as if it was a hoodie. And now with the whole united heath care ceo getting shot and the starch difference with how the media is portraying it vs on TikTok how people are saying he had it coming and how he deserved it (he did). How “deny, defend, depose” is being written and wore by hundreds in support. Now with this Florida woman calling her heath insurance company saying “deny defend depose” and getting arrested and all of the graffiti I’ve seen first hand around where I live. This reminds me a lot of the a chant the French used during the revolution "Liberté, égalité, fraternité" (liberty, equality, fraternity). We may not have monarchs and aristocrats anymore but we sure do have billionaires, ceos, and celebrities.This post might be very ranting but I hope you get the point of what I’m trying to say. 2025 is going to be a year in the history books.

[userparamore]

just discovered spotify’s ‘daylist’ playlists and the names are so funny. pls reblog and put your daylist name in the tags !!!

[cinnamnt]

“In case you were hungry.”