#Things get a little heavy

[vox-ex]

call me by my name

Supercorptober Day 24 “Lena"

thanks to kmsdraws for the prompts

Lena misses hearing Kara say her name. She didn’t even know it was possible to miss such a thing. 

another little post phantom zone one-shot

////

There was a way that Kara always said her name. She never really thought about it until she was gone.

But there was.

Even that first time.

And it was always just Lena.

Where Lena would slip, call Kara darling in careless moments of too little sleep or too much Whiskey.

She was always just Lena to Kara.

She missed that.

Missed the soft way she said her name when they would sit beside each other, just the two of them and the rest of the world quiet. How delicate it always sounded in the mornings and how she sometimes whispered it late at night. She missed the moments her name was filled with joy when Kara couldn't help but smile or laugh. She missed the carefulness she would take with it.

And there was always, always, a kind of certainty in it. A kind of promise.

And here's the thing, Lena has had a lifetime to get used to losing the big things. Losing people, losing places, losing things she knows she will never be able to get back.

But she never once thought she could miss something so small — miss something so simple as a sound.

And she doesn't know what to do with this hole and this ache in her chest.

She looks down at the tape recorded on her table.

It feels archaic.

But turns out the simplest way not to lose the last bit of Kara they had was with a shitty piece of 10-dollar technology.

Who would have guessed?

She hasn't listened to all of her message. Had stopped at the part where her voice paused and her breath hitched and the first syllable of her own name started to fall out.

She gave Alex the parts that mattered, that could bring Kara back.

Had kept what was meant for her.

She's pressed play.

Once.

Twice.

A hundred times since then.

Each time she hears Kara say her name Lena feels her chest tighten.

She hates that Kara sounds scared. She hates that she wants to hold her, and she can't.

She presses one more time.

Just long enough to hear her name.

She doesn't want to hear the rest. Not yet. Not ever. If Kara wants her to hear it, she is going to have to come back and say it herself.

The click of the tape shutting off a leaves sharp echo in her ears and the little bit of static that lingers feels like it stretches forever.

She hits the recorder with her fist. Over and over and over.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up."

The shattered bits of plastic and cheap metal scattering across the surface of the table.

Just loud enough that she doesn't hear the key turn in the lock.

Just loud enough that she doesn't hear the door open.

Just loud enough that she misses the first time Kara says her name.

But not the second.

"Lena."

And it's a little pained, and it's a little quiet, and it's a little hesitant, but with every bit of certainty and every promise she ever made still etched in between its letters.

And it's the best thing she's ever heard.

Because Kara is there, standing in her doorway, suit dusty, cape torn, and face bruised and tired— but there.

Kara takes a step forward, and Lena meets her halfway, crossing the room in three steps and throwing herself into her arms.

"Kara."

Lena whispers, clinging to every bit of her she can hold onto like she's afraid she'll disappear if she lets go.

And Kara just holds her back and presses a kiss to the top of her head as she stumbles back a little under the sudden weight of her in her arms.

"I'm here, I'm here."

"H-how?"

"You." She says. Like it's simple. Like it makes sense. "Always you."

Kara rests her forehead against Lena's with a soft sigh.

"I-I still don't — how?" Lena tries still, her voice quiet and shaking.

"All I know is it worked, Alex said you told them how to find me, and it worked," her tears beginning to edge into the ends of her words.

"Shh." Lena presses a hand to her chest. "It doesn't matter. You're here now."

"I have so much to tell you; I have so so much to tell you."

"And I want to hear it all, I promise. But first…"

Lena presses a kiss to Kara's lips, and everything else fades away. There's only the feeling of Kara, soft and gentle and familiar, the warmth of her body pressed against hers, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat just below her fingertips.

And when Kara says her name again, it's as it falls into the space between them, low and breathless and not quite ready to let her go again just yet.

[teamdilf]

Me making myself ugly cry while writing and imagining my readers ugly crying when this chapter gets posted six months from now:

[lead0]

make sure to keep your medic warm this winter

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 3

Gotham Academy High School was the sort of school where almost everyone was elite in some way or another. Some of them were from old money like Damian who held himself up to a very high standard in his academics and was the top of the class. Others from new money like Dash and the rest of his cohorts became very hateful of somebody like Danny who was given a scholarship by Bruce Wayne, in their eyes Danny was taking advantage of Damian not even knowing that Damian approached Danny for companionship two years ago.

This also meant that everyone including the teachers would compare Danny and Damian to each other even though they weren’t brothers. That didn’t matter though as Danny was associated with them so that was all the reason they needed.

Danny groaned as he sunk into the seat next to Damian. The lunchroom was filled with chatting students and Danny was glad he shared the next class with Damian, which happened to be English. Dash never bothered Danny when Damian was around, probably because Damian had threatened the jock. How he was threatened Danny didn’t know, Damian never told him what happened and he was a little scared to ask. 

The guy hadn’t stopped harassing Danny since he and Jazz transferred a couple years ago. The school year had barely begun and Dash had made Danny his primary target like he was making up for lost time over the summer. Danny sighed as he dropped his paper bagged lunch on the table with a little plop. Jazz had packed for him this morning hopefully before his parents arrived and contaminated the entire kitchen.

“Dash again?” his sister asked across the table, she was seated next to Tim.

“I was paired against him in dodgeball again,” Danny lamented, his head resting on his arms that were crossed on the table.

“Danny, could you just talk to Mr. Lancer or something?” Jazz asked before she took a bite from her sandwich.

Danny sighed again and unpacked his lunch, “I have but no one will listen! They all act like I’m lying or something.” The teachers at this school probably wouldn’t listen to a charity case like him. Dash was a football player and had plans to become captain of the team. Everyone at the school loved Dash and it was precisely why everyone except maybe the four students at the table they were seated looked down and sometimes even bullied Danny.

Danny ignored it all eventually, it was better just to let the jock tire himself out. 

Once Danny and Damian finished eating they made their way to English. Luckily it was easy to carry the material for a class that only required a small binder and whatever book they were reading, in this case it was ‘gone with the wind’. Danny didn’t really care about reading old literature like this but he did what he had to maintain the grades he had. He’d endure anything, even Dash’s bullying, to become an astronaut.

Danny could hardly concentrate today through his afternoon classes. For some reason he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. He tried his best to ignore it, he was probably just tired or something. Soon the school day was out and Danny packed up whatever homework he had for the day and headed outside to wait with Jazz. Damian and Tim were probably wrapping up their classes. Tim had an AP class that ran an extra 30 minutes and Damian’s last class was art, they were doing a painting and it wasn’t unusual for Damian to finish up what he was working on as he found out over the last few years that he enjoyed painting.

“… Do you think it’ll work?” Jazz asked a hint of hesitation in her voice. Danny knew she was talking about the portal, the both of them had talked about it before. Danny glanced over at his sister, he could tell she was having trouble sleeping lately, her face looked tired and her posture was stiff with her arms crossed in front of her. Both of them had anxiety about the possibilities the portal possessed, and they were especially worried that their parents wouldn’t take it well if the portal didn’t work. 

He was equally concerned that it would work. “I hope not…” he said eventually. It was something that brought the siblings closer as the whole of their family fell apart. How their parents managed to pull off getting the funding in the first place seemed to be a miracle. Everyone called their parents crazy and dismissed all of their science as ludicrous garbage.

Danny wondered how they even managed to stay under Batman's radar, he thought that something like this would be cause for the vigilante to look into it but maybe the thought of ghosts was just that outlandish that even the dark knight himself thought it to be crazy too. Danny himself didn’t believe in anything his parents published, some of the papers even seemed to be biased somehow, even though his parents hadn’t ever actually encountered a ghost. That last part was probably the reason no one bothered to actually investigate his parents, there wasn’t really much to investigate.

The siblings waited in silence and eventually Tim and Damian showed up after their classes and the four headed to Alfred waiting by the car. 

If anyone tried to start a conversation with Danny he wasn’t paying attention. If he was being honest, his parents' portal scared him a lot. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous about it, both him and Jazz renounced the thought that ghosts could exist. Something deep down in his guts told him that he should turn and run, that what his parents were attempting was taboo and that his parents were tampering with forces unimaginable. 

No one was going to listen to a fourteen year old though so Danny kept his feelings to himself and ignored them. 

Soon they were pulled in front of their apartment and true to their word, Damian and Tim asked Alfred to park nearby. Danny and Jazz took a hesitant glance at each other as they walked into the house. 

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[canisalbus]

I just want to say, everytime the notification that ypu posted pops up, I find myself running to tumblr with such fervour I thought i held for only running to hear my fave song on the radio. Just want ya to know that :3

Hearing that makes me feel both glad and a bit guilty :'> On one hand I'm flattered you care about my rambles enough to have notifications on, but I've developed a habit of responding to a lot of asks and I'm already worrying I might be clogging people's dashboards with them ´v` If you truly look forward to my posts and don't mind getting spammed with notifications then I'm happy they brighten your day!

[softpine]

she's looking especially sacrificial lamb today 🥩

[thegreatyin]

scoundrel?? what scoundrel???? the magnificent mr cards (who ironically has more of a flower aesthetic going on) is completely unrelated to any "bandaged scoundrels" running around the neath. in fact it's never heard of the word scoundrel ever in its entire definitely long definitely ancient life. but yknow, hypothetically, if it did know the scoundrel, it's confident that they're really really really handsome and cool and epic and they're almost just as amazing as it is and you should totally donate all your valuables to them and stuff

aaand because i like them too much, have a transparent version. the Creachure. the Thing, even.

[veeta-cuculidae]

its interesting to me how everyone’s wishes in persona 5 royal have to do with the catalyst for their rebellion. like ryuji getting to live in a world where kamoshida doesn’t break his leg and force him off the track team, or yusuke where his sensei doesn’t betray him, doesn’t plagiarize. they get to skip those moments that revealed how unfair the world is, that made them want to fight back.

so logically joker’s wish should involve his false conviction. it should involve that event which forced him to transfer schools, to live in a store attic, to be labeled by everyone he met as a delinquent, a criminal. but even in a perfect world, all of that remains unchanged. he accepts that that experience Made him Something, that it was for the better in that it let him be a phantom thief, got him to meet all his friends.

no, to joker, the real thing that betrayed the world’s unfairness was akechi dying. akechi’s circumstances, being used by shido for years and then being discarded the moment shido didn’t have use for him anymore, the fact that akechi not only didn’t get the revenge he committed himself to when he was just a kid but therefore also didn’t get the opportunity to move on from it, is the one thing joker couldn’t stand. and it’s not just that joker wanted akechi to go to jail in his stead, because notably, akechi isn’t actually in jail in the third semester.

really, joker just wanted to see akechi again. he wanted to see him again because he loved him.

[b4kuch1n]

the king shunned, the lion dead, the knight lost, the princess absent. but the wizard lives.

[maesonc-artistic-adventures]

Painting practice with Imogen.

[vox-ex]

I’ll carry you home

Supercorptober Day 21 “broken"

thanks to kmsdraws for the prompts

Kara comes too close to losing Lena. 

Can be read as a companion to day 9 - fresh 

////

Shattered concrete, twisted metal, splintered wood. The sounds of everything around her breaking apart with her at its center, making its up way from the ache in her heart and past the burning in her lungs with the rest of the blood on her hands.  She was shaking, she realized. Or maybe the ground was. Did it matter? She couldn't stop it; there had been no time, there was no time. Everything was in motion,  coming undone. She tried to take a step forward and stumbled, the ground rushing up, the world rushing in, and everything...everything falling apart.

A sound escaped her, some combination of a gasp and groan as Alex's arms wrapped around her middle. "I've got you."

Her sister's voice sounded far away even though Kara knew she had to be right there, "Just breathe, Kara. You have to breathe."

Kara tried, she did. But it felt like the air was made of lead, too heavy to move, to breathe, to see through. Too much, it was all too much and she couldn't-

She could feel herself shaking her head 'no', could feel the tears on her face. She couldn't make any of it stop. Not the tightness in her chest, not the trembling of  her hands, not the world from trying to take one more thing from her.

"Come on let's sit down."  

Alex guided her to the ground, their backs resting against the cool concrete as Kara let her head fall back with one final crack.

"She's going to be okay."

But Kara just shook her head "It was too close."

"I know."

Alex's voice was soft, her hand coming to rest on Kara's knee.

"I need to go, I should get back before she wakes up again."

"You should probably clean up first."

Kara looked down at herself, at her hands, at room around her, all of it covered in dust and bits of metal and wood.

She stands, the worst of it falling away as she runs a hand through her hair and over her clothes.  

And she almost misses the sound of the door opening over the ting of little bits of metal hitting the floor.

Almost.

"Kara?"

Kara blinks, trying to make sense of the sight of Lena in front of her.

Her face still streaked with faint lines of ash and blood. The gash on her forehead, held together by a neat row of stitches. Her body angled toward one side, an arm held across her stomach, an angry line of purple arching down from her collarbone and disappearing somewhere beneath the thin gown that was hanging off one of her shoulders.

And all at once the world that had been so reluctant to stop spinning feels unbearably still.

"Lena?"

Kara shot up to her feet, stumbling a little from the sudden shift.

"What are you doing in here? What are you doing up?"

She held onto Lena's arms, the word "careful" repeating itself over and over and over in her head as she let her hands touch every inch of her they could reach.

"You weren't there. And Brainy said you were in here breaking things. I got worried."

Lena's arms came around her then and Kara went willingly. As she always would — would always go, would always follow.  

"You-You were worried!?" Kara swiped at her cheeks, tried to clear her blurry vision, "I was so scared. That I- That I-."

"Hey," Lena tried to smile, but it wobbled at the edges. "I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Kara insisted, "you're hurt."

"I'm fine," Lena said again, green eyes finding blue, "It's just a scratch."

"No, it's  not." Kara's voice shaking as she held onto Lena's hand. "It's not just a scratch, and you're not fine, you have broken things, you have lots and lots of broken things."

Kara looked at her sister and then at Lena, gesturing between the three of them in disbelief as if asking for another opinion.

"I have a couple broken things." She finally conceded but still rolling her eyes just a little, and Kara's hold on her hand tightened only for Lena to ease it back open, tracing the dust from her knuckles, and running her thumb along the creases in her palm.

"But breaking the whole world won't fix them."

Kara ducked her head, hiding her face in Lena's good shoulder, "it might."  

Lena shakes her head, "it won't."

"I know." Kara sighed, leaning into Lena as gently as she dared and lets slip a kiss against the bruise on Lena's collarbone.

"I'm still here you know." Alex cleared her throat.

Kara's cheeks reddening as Lena offered a soft chuckle behind her.

"And while I'm glad to see you are doing well enough to have snuck away from Brainy, I really would feel better if we got you back."

"Can we go home instead?" Lena asked, looking up at Kara, her voice suddenly a little softer, a little more hesitant.  

Kara looked at Alex briefly, her sister giving a small nod and a gentle knowing look before Kara turned back to Lena and smiled, "Yeah, uh, yeah we can go home."

Kara wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her close as they started for the door, but then paused.

"Can I, is it alright if I carry you?"

Lena nodded, "That would be nice."

Kara bent her knees slightly, the hand at Lena's waist sliding up around her back as her other arm tucked itself underneath her legs and brought her up against her chest. Lena shifted a little, bringing her hand up to rest against Kara.

"You okay?"

She asked, looking down, and Lena nodded her head falling against her shoulder and eyes slipping closed.

"Okay..." Kara breathed out taking a few steps forward, and then again"...you're okay," like with Lena finally in her arms she could actually believe it.

[prncewilhelm]

in case you haven’t thought about wille yet today, here he is :) 

[mythtiide]

(comically late) valentines day falkler doodles

[bitternace]

WHY ARE YOU SO EVIL!!! /POS. ATTACKING YOU.

Xemnas and Xigbar for 37 if that number hasn't been done? If it has, how about 74?

no puedo pedirle lo eterno a un simple mortal // ay, todo lo que he hecho por ti.

[ID: a mostly black and white drawing with a purple overlay of xigbar and xemnas shown from the hip up on the left side of the image. the background is black and has some diagonal lines with a bit of transparency on the right side. the shadows are harsh, with only a bit of light falling on their faces.

they stand before each other turned to the audience. xigbar, holds the handle and the middle of No Name before him, head tilted down as he looks to the audience. xemnas stands a full head taller behind xigbar, his left hand held some distance below the bladed tip of No Name, his left eye is covered by his fringe.

xemnas visible eye is painted ochre with a white pupil, while xigbar's eye is white and gold. The eyes on no name's handle and the gazing eye on the blade are a vibrant cyan. the caption reads the spanish lyrics "i can't ask a simple mortal for a forever" and "oh, everything i've done for you." /End ID.]

close-up under keep reading.

[takethebodymarc]

and don't you guys forget to take care of yourselves! i mean it!🫵