#found this in my drafts and here we are

[sweetdreamr]

if everyone in ragnarok had been in character

*Surtur scene*

Thor: Wait, is this a thing I do? Talk to myself? Have I always done this? It seems rather unhealthy.

Peter Parker: WOW, that’s judgey.

************************* *The Tragedy of Loki scene*

Loki as Odin, lounging around eating grapes: And that, my subjects, is how a total dipshit would impersonate me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have actual ruling to do.

**************************

*Tragedy of Loki Part 2*

Thor: Nothing will stop Mjolnir, even your face.

Loki as Odin: That would be terrifying if I didn’t know how to do this *fucking vanishes*

Thor: Fuck, I forgot he can do that.

**********************

Sidewalk scene:

*portal opens up underneath Loki*

Loki: *turns into a bird and flies above said portal*

Dr. Strange: Fuck, I forgot he can do that.

***********************

*Odin’s death scene*

Odin: I love you, my sons.

Thor: ....are you telling me, Father, that you made no plans in the event of your death? Which was inevitable, because as you yourself once said, “We are not gods. We are born, we live, we die.”????

Odin: *fucks off into glitter no that is seriously what happened*

Thor: That’s very pretty, Father, but I’m still angry.

Loki: Now I’m REALLY not sorry I sent him to Shady Pines.

**************************

*after elevator scene*

Thor: Hey, what’s that on your back?

Loki: Oh come on, that’s the oldest trick in the---

Thor: Never mind, it’s just your hair. *picks it off Loki’s shoulder*

Loki: For a moment I thought you were going to attach an obedience disc to my back and leave me convulsing for the Grandmaster to find and presumably melt.

Thor: That greatly offends me! Only a complete ass would do such a thing! The only way it could be worse is if I made a self-aggrandizing speech about heroism and change while engaging in an act of torture!

Loki: That would indeed be nonsensical. Nearly as bad as me plotting to betray you for mere coin. And confessing to it, before I am safely out of the way of your inevitable counterattack.

*both stare at the camera like on The Office*

**************************

*Hulk turns back into Bruce*

Bruce Banner: *completely freaking the fuck out* Wait, what do you mean I’ve been murdering slaves for the past to years? The whole reason I left Earth was to keep from hurting anyone else! Are we going to address this at all? At any point? Ever?

Thor: No, apparently we are to engage in ten minutes’ worth of jokes about the anal cavity of one called the Devil.

Bruce: .....wHAT?

****************************

*after being promoted to Executioner* Skurge: Um, my queen?

Hela: Yes?

Skurge: Why does the Goddess of Death need an Executioner? I mean, you can pretty much kill with a touch, right? You rule over the realm of the dead?

Hela: ...you know what? I’m honestly not sure.

Skurge: I mean, if having a fuckton of swords makes you the Goddess of Death, does that mean that if I  go to CostCo and get a cartload of drain cleaner, I’m the God of Death?

Hela: .....

*********************************

*Surtur destroys Asgard*

Korg: Whoops there goes your foundation.

Asgardians: Who the fuck is this asshole can we just grieve for our entire civilization in peace for ten seconds

[an-ruraiocht]

sometimes people take attempts at historical nuance regarding terminology to mean "people didn't use these words to describe these identities and behaviours, but these identities and behaviours still existed, because they are fundamental truths of what it means to be human", rather than "we map our current conception of identities and behaviours with these words but they are not labels that can be straightforwardly applied to past experiences of the world because identities, behaviours, and conceptions of how those fit together are culturally and historically specific" and it. frustrates me

i don't think there is a concrete external reality of sexuality that we are merely creating labels to describe. i think the fundamental experience of sexuality is shaped by the labels and ideas available to us. people will always exist who don't conform to the norms of their time and will drive the development of new terms and new ideas but they do that within their own context not because of some like........ ontological pattern

[ninaps]

Just another day on the Enterprise.

[mister-warmth]

.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ

[drogonqueen]

Lies? In your house of God? No wonder He has abandoned you.

Netflix’s Castlevania (2017-2021)

[ziyechs]

@cementcornfield i read your tags on this post and was like.............. wait i remember this. so i went on a 3h youtube deepdive and lo and behold:

final thing for you two guys and i appreciate your time. i think bengals fans want to know: should we feel confident that joe and ja’marr are going to be nfl teammates for a long, long time?

— “well, i definitely want them to be together and i think ja’marr does too, you know, because i was talking to him one time and i was telling him: ‘you know, this is the nfl and this is a business also. so, you know, you might have to go find another quarterback’. and he was like: ‘no, dad, i’m staying with joe. i’m not going nowhere else.’”

[asamiontop]

Supercorptober - Wild or…

Captain Underpants (also on Ao3)

Lena: Text me when you get this.

Kara squints at the message. If she narrows her eyes to slits, the photonic assault hurts her eyeballs less. The text is from Lena, so she answers right away. Doesn’t matter that it’s far past late at night and still hours away from early morning.

Kara: hey got your message. what’s up?

She thinks, mistakenly, that Lena will be asleep. She hopes, misguidedly, that that will afford her a few precious hours of rest herself. Her phone chimes and shatters that fantasy in its infancy.

Lena: Are you home?

That’s concerning. Even through the swampiness of fading inebriation and a blossoming hangover, Kara’s synapses spark to life at the idea that Lena may be in trouble.

Kara: I’m home. everything okay?

The response comes back so fast that Kara suspects Lena started typing before she’d even answered.

Lena: I’m coming over.

Kara glances blearily at her alarm clock. 2:47am. Something is definitely wrong.

It’s a testament to her body’s exhaustion that, despite the urgency, Kara manages to fall asleep. She jolts awake to the sound of cannonballs exploding in her ears, the echoes rattling around in her skull. Her superhearing is out of whack from the sleep or the alcohol or both and nearby noise is amplified a thousandfold. The resounding knock at her door sounds more like a battering ram than a fist.

“Kara?” Lena’s voice drifts through the apartment and all other noise seems to melt away. The soothing effect is immediate. Kara’s heart slides back down her throat and thumps in relief. She sags into her pillow with a sigh before she remembers the fact that Lena is visiting her at three in the morning.

Kara superspeeds to the entryway. She just barely reminds herself to touch down on the floor before unlocking the deadbolt.

“Lena!” Kara whips her door open. She’s prepared for the whole range of human emotion, perhaps some tears or sobs or panic or any external sign of distress.

Instead Lena greets her with pursed lips (puckered in that distracting way that accentuates the crisp line of her jaw), a tilted head, and brassy raise of her eyebrow. Lena looks as beautiful as ever in the middle of the night, but she certainly does not appear distressed.

She gives Kara an undisguised once-over.

“Hello, Supergirl,” Lena deadpans.

All the oxygen leaves the room. Kara’s anatomy doesn’t require much of it, but she still feels like she’s choking on the lack of air. Her eyes bug out and she momentarily loses all cognitive function as her half-drunk system begins a hard reboot into this new reality where apparently Lena now knows her secret identity. The corner of Lena’s mouth twitches victoriously and somehow that is what kicks Kara back to the land of the living.

Without so much as a warning, she snags Lena by the wrist and yanks her bodily into the apartment. It’s a whole miracle Kara doesn’t slam the door off its hinges as Lena stumbles past the threshold.

“Heh—Supergi—that’s funny—what, uh.” Kara squeaks, sounding totally normal. She whirls around to face her friend with a manic laugh and round, wild eyes, “W-what are you talking about?”

Alex teases Kara relentlessly for her inability to play it cool. As she scratches the back of her own neck only to realize that her hair is down and her glasses are sitting uselessly on her nightstand, then completely misses the wall she intended to lean against and surreptitiously floats to keep her balance, Kara admits that her sister may be onto something.

“Kara, please.” Lena’s eyebrow lifts so high that her forehead wrinkles to accommodate it. “Don’t insult me.”

She opens her mouth to speak but something about the way Lena’s regarding her—resolute and impatient, like she’s just waiting for Kara to catch up so they can move on— makes her snap her jaw shut. Kara abandons her remaining denial with a long exhale.

She can’t help but cling to a thread or plausible deniability though.

“What, um.” Kara clears her throat. “What makes you think that I’m—” her voice cracks on the words, so foreign to her in this context— “that I’m Supergirl?”

Instead of answering, Lena raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Wordlessly, she turns on her heel and heads for Kara’s coffee table. Puzzled, the superhero follows. She just about combusts when Lena flicks on the television.

There, in what must have been filmed by a cell-phone, is Supergirl, twirling through the air suitless and cape-less—wearing nothing save for a matching sports bra and boxers. Kara’s jaw unhinges. She thinks her eyes hurt from how wide they’ve gotten. Supergirl’s hair is blowing freely in the breeze and she looks absolutely delighted as she corkscrews aimlessly above the city, half-naked and carefree.

Kara watches in horror as the video zooms in shamelessly on her butt. (Rao damn The Fruit for stuffing their mobile devices with such capable cameras.) This, mortifyingly, is precisely where Lena chooses to pause the coverage. She clicks the remote, freezing the frame on a screenful of Kara’s backside, and points an elegant but accusatory finger at the blown-up image of Kara’s favorite underwear.

It’s not just any old set of underwear. These ones are indescribably soft and comfortable. They fit just right, snug in all the right places, and they are adorned with a bizarrely adorable pattern of cartoon potstickers, puppies, and chopsticks. Most precious of all, they were a gift from one Lena Luthor last Christmas.

Kara ventures a shifty glance at the CEO, whose eyebrow is still quirked expectantly.

Stupidly, Kara blurts the first thing occurs to her. “That could be anyone.”

A second eyebrow climbs to match the first, shifting Lena’s expression from confident to incredulous in a single movement.

“I—I mean,” the superhero stammers, “it’s a really cute pattern a-and maybe Supergirl got herself the same set you bought me.”

Lena’s eyes close slowly, patiently and she shakes her head. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she mutters, “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Why not?” Kara demands, incomprehensibly committed to her flimsy excuse. “Lots of people like potstickers and puppies!”

“Because they are custom, Kara.” Lena’s head tilts sharply and she skewers the blonde with a pointed look. “I had them custom-made for your gift.”

“Oh.” Kara blinks. “You did?” Her voice ticks up at the end, betraying how oddly touched she feels at the gesture.

Lena appears exhausted but at least somewhat amused now. “Yes. Did you think I happened to fortuitously stumble upon the exact combination of all your favorite things printed on the exact type of undergarment you happen to favor?”

“Um… yes?” Kara shrugs even as the feeble defense crumbles around her. “You can find anything on the internet nowadays.”

Lena sighs. “Kara.” The super’s eyes lock on hers and Lena deliberately drags her green gaze down Kara’s front and slowly back up.

The hint of heat in Lena’s eyes isn’t lost on the Kryptonian, so her face is already two shades pinker than normal when she follows Lena’s stare down her own body.

Her cheeks flame up fully at the visual reminder that she is in fact still wearing the offending undergarments and precious little else.

“Oh.” Kara swallows. She is fully on display for Lena—not only mostly undressed, which induces its own type of stirrings in her belly, but also in clothes unmistakably identical to the superhero frozen on the screen. It’s four coincidences too many.

“Oh,” Lena parrots, nodding once.

Kara’s arms cross instinctively over her bare stomach. She’s ashamed. Not of her body, but of attempting to keep up such a charade without a lick of self-awareness. Mostly, she’s ashamed of hiding the truth from the person with whom she’d most wanted to share it.

Frankly, it’s a monumental relief to be unshackled from her secret. Without the burden of her identity, Kara can truly give Lena her full self, share all the bits and pieces of her that have sat leaden and unspoken on the tip of her tongue for months. Now that Kara has the liberty to be well and truly honest, maybe she can finally entertain the budding intimacy and extra warmth that’s been building around her best friend. She’s never felt quite so enthralled to be the focus of someone’s gaze before and maybe if—

Kara shakes her head, clearing away the cobwebs of hope. There’s a very different reality to be faced right now.

Casting an anxious glance at her feet, Kara flexes her toes and reaches for the grounding sensation of the grain in the hardwood.

Kara swallows thickly, mind alight with all the wrong turns this revelation can take, all the covert ways her secret could have already poisoned their relationship beyond recovery.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, forcing her voice to remain steady even as she collapses into a defeated heap on the couch.

After a few seconds of silence, she gathers all the courage in her rapidly accelerating heart and glances up for Lena’s reaction.

Once again her best friend surprises her. Lena doesn’t seem mad or hurt or resentful. She looks… perplexed, if not a little exasperated.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” Lena asks slowly once their eyes lock.

Kara senses her own crinkle bunching between her eyebrows to match Lena’s. “For keeping this from you,” she answers dejectly.

Lena’s eyes widen and Kara rushes to justify herself. The explanation clambers out of her of its own accord, gathering momentum and volume like a snowball rolling downhill.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you so badly, Lena. For months! You’re one of the most important people in my life! I trust you. I–I can’t really explain it, but something about you has always made me feel safe. I just, I felt like I knew you from the moment we met. And that feeling hasn’t faded at all. In fact, it’s grown stronger. I think maybe it’s even become—”

Kara stops short of broaching that subject and launches up off the couch, beginning a proper maniacal pacing across her living room floor.

“You didn’t even need to but you went ahead and proved to me and Supergirl and everyone in the world that you are even more noble and good than I imagined. You are so incredible, Lena. Of everyone I love, you deserve to know this part of me. But—but this superhero thing is so complicated. There are all these rules with the DEO and it’s not always safe for the people that know my identity and—”

“Kara—”

“—and as much as I wanted to be completely open with you, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt. I can’t. I won’t. So then—”

“Kara, darling.” The endearment smashes sideways into Kara and brings her ramble to a skidding, screeching halt. “Stop talking.”

Dumbstruck, Kara does. She turns back to Lena and nearly suffocates at the fondness she finds shining back at her. It’s accompanied by a dash of amusement and that same exasperation from before, but the affection is there and it’s so warm that Kara’s cheeks heat up to match. How Lena can still look at her like that after what Kara’s kept from her is… it feels unfair.

“I’m really sorry Lena,” Kara insists quietly, this time staring directly into those striking windows of sea-glass green and willing her to see how acutely she means it.

“Don’t be.” Lena’s expression softens even further and Kara wonders if this is how it would feel to live life as a lava cake. Airy on the outside and melty on the inside. Warm and delicious all over. It’s nice. Maybe she can get Lena to eat her if—Kara blinks out of her daze. Okay so perhaps she is still a teensy, weensy bit tipsy.

Lena doesn’t seem to notice her brief departure because she adds very earnestly, “I understand why your identity needs safeguarding. I can’t imagine very many people know this about you.”

“No,” Kara agrees, eyes seeking the floor again.

“Frankly, I wouldn’t have expected you to reveal something so sensitive to someone like me.”

The self-deprecation in Lena’s tone is unacceptable. Kara is about to protest that she wanted to—would have if not for the magical influence of Alex’s good sense—when Lena shrugs.

“And we’ve only known one another for a year. There are bound to be some secrets.” The next part is whispered, as if Lena doesn’t mean for Kara to hear. “God knows I have some.”

“Wait—” Kara teeters closer, itching with that Lena-fueled curiosity that swims constantly through her veins.

Lena’s eyebrow twitches haughtily and she smiles, reaching out to pat Kara’s hand. “Matters for another time, darling.”

She wraps her fingers loosely around Kara’s and guides them both onto the couch. Kara, ostensibly still in her underwear, pulls a throw pillow into her lap.

Without warning, Lena resumes the video. The frozen widescreen snapshot of Kara’s behind shrinks away mercifully to the top corner of her TV, revealing a smirking newscaster barely keeping her laughter at bay. Her brown eyes dance as she describes Supergirl’s latest antics in excruciating detail to whichever unfortunate souls are watching at this time of the night.

“Why are we still watching this?” Kara mumbles, hugging the pillow to her chest. Lena remains placidly silent.

Just as Kara thinks her public shaming is complete, a new video overtakes the screen. This one is shot from a much better—or incriminating—angle. Namely, a news helicopter hovering at altitude, level with Supergirl as she floats in lazy spirals then flutters hundreds of feet down, playful and giggling, before shooting back up and starting again.

Kara really takes the cake when she stops mid-somersault and flashes the camera an unfocused wave and a dazzling smile. ‘Up, up and away,’ the half-naked superhero slurs. Then she proceeds to plunge straight out of the sky, giggling gleefully as she falls.

“Oh god,” Kara groans as the camera swings wildly to chase her back into the frame. It finally catches up to her as Kara’s trajectory is intercepted by a green-black blur. She and the blur disappear in a flash of red and the video gives way to the newscaster once more, speculating about the inexplicable nature of her behavior.

So that’s why J’onn had showed up to fly Supergirl home.

“I…” Is there kryptonite in the room or is she just burning up from sheer embarrassment? “I don’t remember doing that,” Kara whispers, quiet as a mouse.

Beside her, Lena snorts. Kara swivels to glare at her but the image of Lena stifling a laugh into the tips of her fingers is entirely too cute to hold a grudge against. She pouts instead.

Eventually the CEO regains her composure and asks, exceedingly gentle, “What do you remember?”

Kara’s features scrunch into a frown as she replays the last several hours in her head. It’s somewhat blurry, but there’s a chronological consistency to the snippets of clarity.

“It… it was my night off,” Kara begins. A picture of Alex’s rowdy laugh shimmers to life in her mind’s eye and she smiles. “Sister’s night.”

Lena nods, smiles just because Kara did and that—that’s really something. Her heart does a happy little flump. Then she remembers.

“That’s why I didn’t have my supersuit!” Kara snaps her fingers. “J’onn told us he had everything covered tonight. He said we should take the night to really unwind.”

Lena’s unimpressed little ah sets Kara into a guilty grimace. “I… don’t think this is what he meant he meant by unwind,” Kara admits.

“Probably not.” Lena agrees. It’s a gentle admonishment and a flat tease all in one and Kara is too busy thinking that Lena is miraculous to be at all bothered by the joke at her expense. “What did you two plan for sister’s night?”

“Well… Alex came over and we had a few drinks. I remember she brought some sort of alien punch or something. I don’t know what was in it but it was really yummy. I… got a little drunker than I meant to.”

Kara omits the part where she ignored Alex’s warning about the potency of said beverages because ‘I have a Kryptonian metabolism Alex. I’ll be fine.’

“Oh. So this…” Lena gestures vaguely in the direction of the television. It’s paused on another unflattering view from below and Kara wrinkles her nose. “Was alcohol-induced?”

“Yeah…” she admits, dragging out the word.

Lena raises an eyebrow. “And… voluntary?”

“Um. Yes.”

Lena regards her for a long moment, then releases a gargantuan breath. Her shoulders fall with it, settling almost one full inch below where they’d been twisted in tension since she arrived. “Well that’s a relief,” she exhales.

“It—it is?” Kara tilts her head.

“I thought you’d been poisoned.” Lena looks at her sharply and Kara swallows. “I was… concerned.”

The flash of vulnerability in her eyes is as close as Lena gets to chastising her, but Kara still feels it like a punch to the gut. It doesn’t take much work to put herself in Lena’s shoes, to imagine the sensation of the ground dropping out from underneath her when a slew of worst case scenarios take up residence in her brain. Combined with the realization that Supergirl’s erratic behavior is also her best friend’s, it might just warrant the frazzled and urgent messages in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry,” Kara winces. “I promise I’m okay. Just a bit hungover, probably.” She pauses thoughtfully. “If it makes you feel any better, you weren’t entirely wrong.” Lena’s brow furrows and Kara grins dumbly, if only to inject a little levity into the moment. “Alcohol is pretty much poison. I just, you know, did the poisoning myself. I had a great time.”

There’s a stifled snort sound again and then Lena’s chuckling, loose at last and shaking her head fondly. Kara melts into the angelic sound, into the familiarity and affection twinkling within.

“So long as you’re okay,” Lena adds.

“I’m alright,” Kara reassures. She reaches for Lena’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I promise.”

Keeping their hands joined, Lena tips her head curiously. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”

“Yeah?”

“If you and Alex were home—here, then why did you leave without your suit on?”

“Oh, uh...” Kara thinks for a moment. “We went out at some point. Alex convinced me to go to Al’s—the alien bar—to meet up with Maggie—which,” Kara bristles and sniffs loudly, “was extremely generous of me, considering it was sister’s night.”

She glances at Lena for validation but her best friend just blinks placidly and waits. Kara pauses to wonder if she’s causing any sort of distress with all of the alien information she’s tossing her way. After a few seconds of Kara studying her, Lena finally raises her eyebrows in question.

“Sorry,” Kara shakes her head. “Anyway. We went to the bar and had a couple more drinks. And then—this is where things get kind of fuzzy.” Kara blushes. “Alex left with Maggie, I think.”

“Alex left you at the bar alone? While you were clearly not sober?” Lena’s face screws into a glare of disapproval. “That doesn’t sound like Agent Danvers.”

Kara barks a laugh at the formal form of address. “No, it definitely doesn’t,” she concedes. “I don’t think she actually left me though… I remember being in a cab. And then… um. Not in a cab.”

“Did the taxi drop you off at home?”

“No?” Kara wracks her brain. “I don’t think so. I remember wandering around a park somewhere and realizing I was lost. I know the city so well from above but down here I… get a little turned around sometimes.”

Kara’s cheeks flush at the admission but Lena’s fingers flex around her hand encouragingly and she relaxes.

“Anyway, when I realized I was lost I figured it would be best if I just flew myself home.”

The logic of the moment comes rushing back all at once and Kara feels the tips of her ears go from pink to red to redder. Lena, genius that she is, puts it together rather quickly.

“But you didn’t have your suit.”

“Yeah…” Kara affirms through a dry mouth.

“So you…” Lena begins, encouraging Kara to finish. She’s too embarrassed to even try. After several moments of nothing, Lena rips off the bandaid. “So you undressed to avoid being recognized?”

There’s an inferno blazing somewhere in this room, Kara swears it. She nods, not daring to meet Lena’s eyes.

A minuscule giggle reaches her ears and she breaks.

“I—I didn’t have a choice!” Kara whines. “It was late, I was lost, and my phone was dead and I, I… didn’t know what else to do!”

“Oh dear. Good thing you’re invulnerable.” Lena chuckles. “It's okay, darling.”

“It’s not!” Kara glares over at the TV. “I thought I was being clever. I even folded my shirt and my jeans and hid them in a bush, out of sight and everything! I figured no one would recognize me if I was quick about getting home so I took off but then…”

Lena looks at her expectantly, every bit the generous friend trying to keep her laughter trapped behind her pursed lips.

“Flying felt so good.” Kara admits, contrite. “I’m always wearing that gosh-darned suit with the long sleeves and the tights and just—the warm air felt so nice on my skin. Like the night sky was hugging me hello.”

She’s pouting up a storm now. “I really didn’t expect it. And, well, I guess I was just having a really nice time and my flight home accidentally turned into….” She gestures half-heartedly to the TV. “That.”

“Oh honey.” Lena extends one arm and Kara doesn’t hesitate to dive under it, hiding her face in the comfort of Lena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. It’s just a minor PR snafu. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“Alex is gonna be so mad,” Kara grouses, burrowing towards the enticingly familiar scent emanating from Lena’s skin, just a few inches away.

“Perhaps,” Lena allows, rubbing up and down Kara’s arm. It helps soothe the panic that comes with the knowledge of her elder sister’s impending fury. “But you didn’t hurt anyone. And the risk to your identity seems exceedingly low. Who else knows what I gave you for Secret Santa last year?”

Kara thinks back to the holiday, to the warm glow in her apartment and the people she loves gathered to share smiles and stories and gifts. “Just the people that were there that day,” she answers. “Alex, my mom, James, and Winn. And you.”

The memory of Lena glowing alongside her family makes Kara hum happily and nuzzle a little closer. Lena’s arm tightens around Kara’s shoulders.

“And is there any risk of them putting the pieces together from this video?”

“Well, that’s not really a problem,” Kara sighs. “My family has always known. James knew before I even met him because he’s friends with Superman. And Winn is the only other person I’ve ever told.”

She freezes, nervous that the reminder of being kept in the dark might cause Lena to put some distance between them. It’s the last thing Kara wants, to hurt her best friend. Besides, she’d quite like to stay right where she is, a scant inch away from the soft skin of Lena’s collarbone.

“There you have it,” Lena soothes, mercifully unfazed by the news of others that knew before her. “This hiccup should wash away with the next news cycle.” Lena pauses, tenses a bit. “Unless…”

Kara wriggles, prompting her to continue. “Unless what?”

“Have you…” the CEO clears her throat and from this distance Kara can hear her swallow uncomfortably. “Have you shown anyone else?”

“Shown anyone what?”

“This, uh, particular outfit of yours?”

“Pshh, no.” Kara scoffs and shakes her head. The movement brings the cold tip of her nose into contact with the heavenly warmth of Lena’s skin. Kara attributes the slight shiver that runs through her friend’s body to the shock of temperature difference. “Why would I show anyone my underwear?”

When Lena grimaces, the muscles in her neck tighten and Kara instinctively tucks her head closer to smooth the tension away.

“Well,” Lena begins, sounding a bit strangled. Her voice is lower, somewhat shy, and Kara is distracted by the way it vibrates against her forehead when Lena speaks. “If you… perhaps… brought someone home with you.”

“When I invite guests over I don’t include my underwear drawer in the tour of the apartment, Lena. That’s silly.”

“No—that’s not what I—hmph.” Exasperated, Lena finally makes herself clear. “I’m asking if you’ve slept with anyone, Kara.”

The superhero jolts upright, squeaking in surprise. “What?”

Lena clenches her jaw and releases it, taking a fortifying breath. “Have you been intimate with anyone recently that might’ve seen this set of underwear?” Kara gapes like a fish out of water and Lena rolls her eyes as she spells it out, seeming oddly pained. “Could they possibly make the connection between Supergirl’s appearance tonight and your identity as Kara Danvers?”

“Oh,” Kara breathes, struggling to sit still under Lena’s scrutiny. She peels at the fraying edges of her throw pillow. “Um. No.”

“Okay.” It may be Kara’s imagination, but it almost looks like Lena heaves a sigh of relief. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I…” the corner of her mouth twitches. “There hasn’t been anyone. Not since Mon-El.”

Kara considers the nights she’s spent with people she loves instead, the extra time that not having a love interest has afforded her with Lena and feels quite at peace with this reality. She smiles. “So I guess we’re safe on that front.”

Lena smiles back, closed-mouthed but still dimpled, and Kara feels like a lava cake again.

“See? You have nothing to worry about,” the CEO assures.

“Except—can anyone trace the purchase back to you?” Kara asks suddenly. “You said it was a custom order, won’t… won’t people think that you’re Supergirl?!”

Lena bursts into laughter at the suggestion. She howls for seconds while Kara dissolves into a panic at the idea of people going after Lena, mistaking her for the drunk Kryptonian.

“Lena, this is serious,” Kara admonishes. Lena just keeps on laughing. “You could be seriously targeted! I need—I need to protect you. Someone could try to hurt you if they thought…” her wild ideas get the best of her, spiraling out of control at the mere suggestion of increased attempts on Lena’s life.

Kara spaces out, flicking rapidly from scenario to scenario about how best to protect her best friend from this type of exposure. Maybe Lena should move in with her, so Kara can keep her safe all the time. If they share a bed, Kara will know she’s protected even while unconscious. Lena maintains an office at Catco, so the workday is covered. What about bathroom breaks, would those be—

A warm palm smooths over Kara’s forearm and squeezes until her tailspin slows to a halt. “Kara, darling. Come back.”

Kara blinks forcefully once, twice, three times, and then she’s planted firmly in her living room, staring once more at the overwhelming wealth of fondness in light green eyes. Those eyes crinkle around a smile as soon as Kara fully returns to her surroundings.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Lena assures slowly. Kara wrinkles her brow and Lena explains. “I went to a store in person to place the order and made my purchases with cash. The payment isn’t traceable to my name and no one recognized me, I’m certain of it.”

Face pinched into a frown, Kara shakes her head. “Are you sure? I won’t take that risk with you, Lena.”

“I’m sure,” the CEO smiles again and it’s nearly dazzling enough to distract Kara from her panic-fueled worry storm. “I appreciate the concern, but I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor even knows what a baseball cap is, let alone wears one.” Lena tilts her head thoughtfully. “For that matter, I doubt anyone would believe that a Luthor could secretly be Kryptonian, all things considered.”

Kara scowls at the indirect mention of Lex, but considers Lena’s logic. She’s right in the end—short of a credit card receipt with Lena’s name on it or video footage showing her obtaining the exact same garments Supergirl is wearing, it’d be nigh impossible to make the connection.

“Okay,” she finally relents. “Okay. So now all I have to worry about is Alex’s wrath.”

The thought brings another grimace to her face and she buries it into her throw pillow. Alex is going to be so mad.

“I think Alex will be fine once we talk it through with her,” Lena offers. The ‘we’ wraps around Kara like a blanket before Lena’s arms encircle her with a comfort that Kara’s powerless to resist. She drops the pillow in favor of scooting back into her previous position, nestled into the juncture of Lena’s neck and shoulder.

They sit in silence for a few minutes as Kara recovers from her shame. The lateness of the hour and the steady drum of Lena’s heart lull Kara into a dreamy, half-conscious state and before she’s fully aware of herself she asks, “Lena?”

“Hm?”

The low hum of Lena’s voice in the apartment shrouds Kara in calm and she instinctively adjusts so she can press her nose and mouth the source of that heavenly vibration. Lena gulps and Kara is too sleepy to think anything of it.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Mad?” Lena repeats. “Why?”

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you my secret?”

“No, darling, I’m not mad,” Lena mutters softly and places a gentle hand on the side of Kara’s head. “It’s your secret to tell. What matters to me is that you’re safe. That’s all.”

The Kryptonian smiles and snuggles close. “Well, I’m really glad that you know now. And that you still like me. There’s so much I wanna tell you.” She pouts. “No more secrets for us.”

“Of course I still like you.” Then, most miraculous of all, Lena drops a soft kiss to Kara’s forehead. “You’re lovely, Kara. Being Supergirl doesn’t change that.”

Kara hums contentedly and drowsily returns the kiss wherever she can reach. Which happens to be the exposed jut of Lena’s collarbone. She notices a shift immediately—Lena’s muscles sing with tautness and her heart rate skyrockets.

“Lena?”

“Mm?” Her response is slightly high-pitched this time, even if the rumble of it still rolls through Kara like thunder.

“Why is your heartbeat so fast?”

“What—how can you even—oh. Superhearing. Of course.”

“Mhm,” Kara smiles, wondering languidly if Lena can feel her grin even if she can’t see it, ‘cause of the way Kara’s mouth is smooshed against her neck. Lena smells really, really good.

“You smell really, really good.” Again, Lena’s heartbeat ratchets up a notch. Kara frowns.

“Lena, you need to calm down.” Kara speaks right up against the source of the hammering in her ears, feeling the corresponding pulse pound on her lips. “‘S very loud. That can’t be good for you.”

“I’m fine, Kara,” Lena squeaks. Kara has her doubts but forgets them immediately when Lena says, “Besides, I’m with Supergirl. I’m as safe as can be.”

“That’s right.” Kara grins then places another sleepy kiss directly over that drumbeat, aiming to soothe it. “Shhh, i zhao,” Kara murmurs at Lena’s pulse point. “Settle down. You’re safe. It’s sleep time now.”

The next thing she hears after a hitch in Lena’s breath is the rich sound of Lena’s chuckle. “Did you just speak Kryptonian to my heartbeat, Kara?”

“Mm, yeah.” She’s beyond sleepy, half her cognizance has already yielded to unconsciousness. “I can never sleep when it’s loud like that.”

“What do you mean never?”

“I always check on you, Lena,” Kara nuzzles. “If your heartbeat’s too loud, I get worried.”

“You… you listen for me?”

Kara frowns again. Somehow this is only making things louder. Won’t stop her from telling the truth though.

“‘Course I listen. You’re my person,” she declares with a huff and drapes an arm over Lena’s midriff. “I dunno what’s bothering you right now though. You said it yourself, you’re safe with me.”

Lena sucks in a breath and holds it. Kara knows because she can feel the rise of Lena’s chest under her cheek and the way Lena’s throat works beneath her mouth. Kara noses against her neck, willing Lena to keep breathing and relax. Eventually she does.

Lena’s sigh comes out slow and measured and finally, her heartbeat begins to slow. She leans her head overtop of Kara’s. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Mhm,” Kara agrees. “Quiet now though, ‘s time for bed.” Lena nods above her and Kara doesn’t even deign to consider that they’re both still half upright on the couch. She does, however, remember a passing comment from earlier in the night.

“Lena?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you tell me your secret, too?”

In the ensuing pause, Kara hears the slowing beat do a stutter step in Lena’s chest. She nuzzles into it and Lena sighs once more.

Then Kara feels the warmth of lips pressed to her temple and suddenly her own heart is mirroring the pattern of Lena’s, clamoring for more of that soft sweetness against her skin.

“I think you might already know,” Lena whispers into her hair.

With the scent of Lena in her lungs and the softness of her friend in her arms and around her, Kara thinks she does, too.

(Morning finds them in the same position hours later, curled against one another on the couch. Necks stiff and backs crooked, they startle awake to a pounding on the door and an unmistakably familiar grumbling on the other side.

“Kara, you’d better be in there! What the fuck happened last night?!”)

--

[lorelune]

NEVER MAKE YOUR ART FOR YOUR HATERS!!! MAKE YOUR ART FOR YOU AND YOUR LOVERS!!! ART FOR LOVERS!!!!!!

[endofthedaymp3]

In my mind, there are different worlds creeping in. The heavens and the earth collide. I do not know where I am. Do you love me? You do not wish a life with me for yourself. No one wishes that. I will stand with you between the heavens and the earth. I will tell you where you are. Do you love me?

[eveningrainstorm]

People often talk about Rio Ranger as if he's the doll version of Sei but what I find super fascinating is that he isn't, not in the same way Fake Reko or the Dummies are replications of their human counterparts.

Ranger resembles Sei on a surface level — same physical appearance, just an unclear amount older; same way of speaking. But he is unmistakably different. Ranger is an incomplete being, missing his positive emotions, but even the true Ranger is Rio Laizer rather than Sei, because there's still something different.

Rio Ranger is, fundamentally, inhuman and yet desperate to be human. He was created to be jealous of humanity and despite his hatred for them, humanity is what he is always striving for. But it is something that he doesn't possess, and is forced to steal instead. He takes clothes from the dead and uses drawings on cards to feign emotion; he is the Dress-Up Doll, Rearranger, not possessor of anything of his own.

While the other dolls based on humans in the game have identity issues based on their personhood being defined by someone else, being merely a copy of another person, Ranger is not even allowed Sei's identity to base himself on — it's very likely he doesn't even know who Sei was. He does not have Sei's clothes — nondescript and tied to Asunaro as they are — and he does not have the capacity for expressing emotion that Sei had.

When comparing Ranger and Sei in terms of personality, differences are obvious. There are similarities, naturally — besides the abrasive way of speaking, there's the jealousy and desire for validation. But in Ranger, these are present to an extreme — they're all he has. (And, ironically, this is what Gashu claims to believe makes him so human, even when Ranger's inhumanity comes through most clearly in this lack of anything else.)

In Sei, on the other hand, these traits are tempered by logic, to put things in YTTD's beloved logic vs. emotion dichotomy. Despite his outwardly emotional nature, from what we see of him he appears realistic and focused on survival in a way that Kai isn't. He's aggressive and overly casual about killing people, but he doesn't express the glee at violence that Ranger does, only a fierce desire to prove himself and survive. Sei is jealous of Kai and desires Gashu's affection, but also has an understanding of the situation he's in that both Kai and Ranger lack — he can tell that Gashu doesn't care about him as much as he does Kai, and recognizes that the way Gashu treats both of them is wrong. Ranger believes Gashu truly loves him, a fact proven blatantly false by his eventual demise at Gashu's hands. Ironically, this blindness is more similar to Kai as we see him in his minisode, rather than Sei.

Of course, this understanding isn't simply a part of Sei's basic nature, but rather the fact that unlike Kai and Ranger, he has past experience to go on. Sei wasn't born into the Satou family — though his exact origins are unclear, based on his grief for his birth father and how he talks about Asunaro ("all this shady organization crap"), it's possible he wasn't even born into Asunaro at all. Before being sent to Gashu, he had his own father, one who we don't know anything about but whom he apparently loved. He doesn't accept Gashu's treatment of him and Kai the way Kai does because he has known a different father and a different way of life. This doesn't free him from Asunaro's influence — he still accepts the role of assassin they give him and resigns himself to becoming a killer. What choice does he have, after all? But he carries no illusions about Asunaro or his role in it. He knows that the training is cruel, that he is viewed only as a tool, that Asunaro is wrong even if they are also not worth resisting.

This is a major part of why Ranger isn't Sei, why he cannot be; because Asunaro is all Ranger knows. They are his creators, who he was literally built to serve. In Ranger's mind, he is not only Gashu's son and heir, but his creation, his masterpiece. And of course he wouldn't have been created with Sei's memories — why take that risk? Why give him any sort of knowledge of a life outside Asunaro or reason to be disloyal to them?

Ranger is not Sei — so why model Ranger after him? Because Ranger is the idea of Sei, what Sei was meant to be: a counterpart to Kai, a rival, a second choice. Gashu preferred Kai, once; Kai won out over Sei. But Kai has proven himself a failure and betrayed Asunaro, leaving Gashu with no choice but turn once more to Kai's long-dead competition. Ranger is, like Sei, the opposite of Kai, temperamental and vulgar while Kai is stoic and polite, and perhaps more importantly, capable of murder while Kai steadfastly is not.

And yet Ranger isn't Sei. Sei was jealous of those — specifically Kai — he saw as superior or at least as being treated as such; Ranger is this idea taken to its natural conclusion. Sei had lost everything he had outside of Asunaro; Ranger never had anything else to begin with. Sei was a human; Ranger will never be, doomed to forever long otherwise. Ranger is Sei only in the ways Sei was useful — desperate for recognition, willing to kill, a perfect rival to Kai — but something entirely different, an inhuman machine, in all the ways Sei was a liability.

Sei was human, and he knew that he deserved to have that fact respected. Ranger isn't human and gets only the wanting, desperate to be as good as a human even humanity itself is unattainable. Of course, it isn't being a doll that is actually Ranger's problem — it's Asunaro, who view humans and dolls alike as disposable. Sei's humanity didn't make him any less of a tool as far as Asunaro was concerned, it only made him more difficult to control. All Sei wanted was to be seen as an equal to Kai, a person worthy of respect — and this is what he gets, in the end: his face and voice used as a base for one of Asunaro's weapons, while his true identity and personhood remains forgotten.

Ranger has nothing to hold him back from doing his duty for Asunaro, nor does he have anything to hold onto outside of it. In that sense, Ranger is an ideal asset for Asunaro — at least until the very jealousy and hatred Gashu programmed into him goes too far, and he is, once again, deemed a failure. Ironically, Gashu shoots Ranger for attempting to kill a participant, when willingness to kill was perhaps the one true advantage Sei had over Kai.

In the end, Ranger is offered no more humanity in his death than Sei is — they are both merely pawns of Asunaro, set to die at its whims. But while Sei dies in the arms of his brother, receiving one final act of kindness as Kai refuses to kill him, Ranger has no one in either of his deaths but his creators: in his death as Rio Laizer the dubious kindness of Tia Safalin, making his final moments full of agonizing guilt, and of course in his first death, as Rio Ranger, nothing but Gashu's coldness, the bullet in his head a sort of culmination to the favoritism Sei found weighed against him, and a demonstration of just how far Gashu has come from the father who once genuinely cared for Sei. Sei was human, Ranger was not, but as far as Asunaro is concerned, they are exactly the same: tools, easily thrown away as soon as they stop being useful.

[kanerallels]

At @audreythevaliant's request, a little list of (spoiler free) reasons why The Queen's Thief series is very worth reading! But first: a disclaimer. I have seen and heard a lot of people say that the series is harder to read and slow, and it REALLY can be. The first half of The Queen of Attolia can be really slow. Honestly, I persevered only because a) I'm stubborn and b) I'm starting to realize I kind of enjoy the more intense, nuanced, slightly dry stories like that (case in point, Timothy Zahn's writing)

So there's absolutely nothing wrong with finding this harder to read, it honestly is! And here are a few reasons why it's worth it to persevere nonetheless:

There is some truly witty, brilliant dialogue

I have never read a series that does foreshadowing like this one, let alone unreliable narration. There's just so many little hints, even in the most random of lines, that makes rereading REALLY fun. One my favorite parts in The Queen Of Attolia is this conversation between two characters that, at first read through, seems like it's about one subject, but then when you read it again you realize it's something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

Along the same lines, the main character (and quite a few others) are so CLEVER. I love a really smart main character, one who's a few steps ahead of everyone else (but can still fail a lot of the time) and this series heartfeltly delivers that. They're also shockingly kind and loyal, despite the darkness that is originally presented in some cases

The world building is so COOL. It's ancient Grecian inspired but it's got guns and watches, too.

Oh my stars I also really love the fact that every book has a short story within it! One that usually relates to the book's story itself (*resists the urge to ramble spoiler-fully about one*) and it's such a lovely interpretation of mythology

Not to go back to the characters again, but the characters are all so different and awesome! We have women who are still feminine while being awesome, we have kind women and ruthless women, we have characters who are the least genre aware of anyone I've ever met and don't even recognize an assassination attempt when it happens, we have loyalty and betrayal in the same character, and we have some REALLY diabolical villains

Also we have some SOLID friendships AND romances

And I'm not gonna lie, the fandom is a good reason to join. I'm not as in depth a part of it, just by virtue of the fact that I don't contribute to it much, but the fan art and the posts? MARVELOUS

Feel free to add on other reasons if anyone else likes! No spoilers, please

[truethes]

good afternoon dash did you miss me?

[sunlightmurdock]

I’m loving the apocalypse dbf!Jake stuff so much!!! Jake being all gruff and protective and violent is intoxicating.

But I got thinking what if the Daggers showed up? Still friends with Jake before everything and his girl probably recognises them from pictures but meeting them…it would be a lot…

not to mention Mav and his cockroach abilities

Eee!! I’m so glad you’re loving it! I just can’t stop thinking about him and hahahahaha Mav and his cockroach abilities had me crying, that man really could survive just about anything

And I think Jake probably would come across them all as part of a much larger group. They’d all worked with the military when this had started, trying to slow the spread, and then when that had failed — they stuck together. Jake hadn’t even thought about them. His only priority was getting you to safety. Well, that’s a lie.

He had thought about trying to contact base once or twice, but never had.

Your group is small now. You’re barely surviving. The people you’re with aren’t equipped for how outnumbered you’ve been. Then, one day Jake comes across something different. Maybe like a prison, maybe like a power plant. Something sturdy, with a fence, and an eye-catching watchtower.

He knows that he has to scope it out from a distance if he’s going to take it. He can’t chance the people there hurting you.

So, every day for a week, Jake scopes the place out. Every angle. Every weak point in the fence and every entry point. He’s walking back through the woods one day when he hears a branch snap a second too late. By the time he reacts, he’s already on his front with a knee on the back of his neck.

“Don’t bullshit me, who are you with? — I’ve seen you watching this place.”

And the realisation hits. Jake wriggles to pull his arms from under him and yank the bandana down from over his nose, “Phoenix?”

“Hangman.” She breathes, still kneeling on his neck. Finally, it occurs to her to relent. “Holy shit, everyone thought you were dead.”

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Jianzhu, losing his fucking mind: For the past 7ish years we've tried the Earth Kingdom way of finding the Avatar, but we keep getting sent all over the damn place! Even the poles! Wtf is going on. Me, knowing Kyoshi's ass was being yeeted around on a flying bison during that time:

[imeanwhynotbruv]

“What happened?”

It was quiet out. The only sound being the slow leisurely inhale of Billy’s cigaret, as he puffed out a thin cloud of smoke every now and then.

Billy glanced lazily at his brother, his shoulders were hunched and his brows were set in a firm frown as he gazed off into the distance. He hadn’t said a word for the past half an hour.

“So..” Billy inhaled deeply, his eyes moving back towards the trees ahead of him.

“What happened?” the smoke slipped out between his lips, wrapping itself around his words as he released them into the air.

Vance huffed disgustedly, turning his face ever so slightly away, as if attempting to hide the blood that so plainly stained his skin, despite how futile he knew it was.

Billy only hummed noncommittally, making it clear to his brother that he would get his answer eventually whether Vance liked it or not.

The silence sat heavily around them, the air thick with its weight as Billy was determined to out wait his bother. A tried and true method that had always worked on his impatient little brother, as volatile as Billy himself and unable to sit with the weight of his big brother’s silence before his agitation got the better of him.

“Nothing” Vance snapped quietly, his frown deepened despite the slight ache it caused.

Billy hummed, swirling the smoke around his mouth as if in thought before he exhaled.

“That right?” Billy muttered, not bothering to look at his brother. Wholeheartedly unimpressed with such a lacklustre answer.

“It is” Vance humphed.

“Try again Pinhead” Billy turner to look at his brother again, his eyes roaming over the dried trails of blood in his brothers hair.

•••

Found this hiding in my drafts, I have no idea when I wrote it!!

Thought it was kinda cute, might write more of it might leave it be but let’s be honest I’ll probably end up writing more for it 😅

[tmae3114]

So I originally wrote this back in August when this release was fresh and then!!! APPARENTLY!!! just COMPLETELY forgot to post it!! so you get it now, three months late.

-

Some of the dialogue from the Guardian Tower has been living rent free in my head and now I want to yell about it because it’s SO GOOD for background lore

Okay, so, on the first floor, Mindi tells us this:

I really like this because it helps illustrate one of the logistical problems of the Rose. Like, even if you took away everything else that makes them bad (which, admittedly, is most of the organisation and its purpose), the fact that they tend to, by default, present themselves as the only option and drive out competition is bad. On paper, a force of people trained in combat against magical threats, with reasonably easy access to that training, which has garrisons stationed across the land, is actually a pretty good solution to the whole Recurring Evil Magical Threats thing. We know this because the guardians and the paladins and the dragonslayers exist! They do this! The Rose seems to make membership easier to access but, frankly, I suspect that is in part because their training is less thorough.

And when the Rose show up and drive those other groups out (like they’ve done with the Guardians), they don’t actually improve anything. Best case scenario, everything is exactly the way it was before. More likely, things would get worse, because the people with active experience defending a particular area have been driven away and now the Rose members have to play catch-up

(A good example of how on paper a group like the Rose could help an area is Book 3 Amityvale. The local Guardians were long gone, so the Rose were able to help without doing that extra damage and made Amityvale a safer place to live....... but that’s specifically for the human inhabitants. Plus, we know they’re affecting the magic of the area - Amaris’s moon has started having phases - and that’s! probably not good! Also see: Raven having to flee for her own safety after getting bitten by a werewolf. Even where they are ostensibly doing the most good, the Rose are still an active danger to many, even their own in the wrong circumstances)

And, meanwhile, on the ground floor...

......further proof that the Rose actively try to drive competition out of the area. Falconreach has repeatedly made it clear that they want nothing to do with the Rose and they keep picking fights with the patrols.