thank you kals

(Not so) Quick run on spew of opinion of DCEU superman

I related to dceu superman’s portrayal as an autistic guy with the whole hypersensitive thing and just needing to fuck off from the world for a bit a lot. 

I love that he’s quiet and dignified and introverted, that he helps to honour his heritage and more importantly because he thinks he ought to and not for glory or the ‘American way’ or some shit like that.

 I love that (both pairs of) his parents were people and were flawed, seriously like the els were cool with their hope crest, but they lived in a eugenic qun-esque dystopia with no freedom of choice and they knew they couldn’t pass any of that shit onto Kal.

I love that the Kents, especially Pa Kent loved this kid more than anything else, certainly more than other people’s kids or even the world (doesn’t mean they wanted them to die, nostalgia critic, you inflated prick). John knew the second he could this good, kind boy would try to help people (and they were right it didn’t take long) and since they had no reason to believe that he was completely invincible, they could only assume the world would kill him (and it did.) 

I love that John was so adamant about this idea he allowed himself to die rather than let the world touch his son WHICH WAS THE ACTUAL REASON, THE DOG HAD SHIT TO DO WITH IT AND ALSO THE FACT THAT KAL RESPECTED HIS WISHES SHOWED HOW MUCH THAT MESSAGE SUNK THE FUCK IN (I will acknowledge that of all things to apparently die for, a dog was a bit silly) even before that he knew that he needed to teach this little god child how to be a good person, how to appreciate how fucking incredible he was because otherwise well holy shit can you imagine most teenage boys with his kind of power, of course his father would stress that he needs to fucking chill for a bit.

I love that his mother just was such a real fucking mother, she wasn’t thinking about philosophy during the whole process of bringing this kid up, she was just like “man I fucking love my beautiful husband and my beautiful son” she only really gave her view on that in BVS, when her son deliberately came to her for advice, “basically son you don’t have to do any of this shit, I never wanted people to get their shitty internet-y hands on you but it’s your decision” 

I love that superman actually goes through shit, I love that it’s shown that if put under enough pressure he could be broken, he could give up BUT HE DOESN’T an invincible power fantasy superman ironically limits his character as something powerful and mythical while still being personal and identifiable,

Basically DCEU superman is great and rotten tomatoes can fuck off the edge of my dick.  

Ayy guess who’s working on a fic again (I was gonna post this later but I couldn’t repress the urge to share)


I know, I know, if you even remember Tug, you probably don’t think a theory involving him could be interesting. 

BUT. Hear me out. 

This one is. 

anonymous asked:

Putting in a request for an upcoming undercover assignment where a "spy hickey" is necessary. Please and thank you Agent Kal.

Well, I see the importance of that pressing mission, anon. But who should do the hickey and who should be the poor victim? #forkingandcountry

anonymous asked:

As a prompt: perhaps Beez developing an instant crush on Kal when he's summoned?

this was incredibly fun to write, thank you!!

Kal is… not what Beezle expected from their brief call before he was summoned.

Of course, he was expecting someone who died young, since Elliot is only twenty-three, but is it fair to say his immediate guess of what Kal had looked like as a human was trending along the lines of ‘awkwardly tall, gangly, and clumsy’?

Kal is none of those things.

“GREETINGS!” He says with a beaming smile once he’s fully in their world. “ELLIOT, MY FRIEND! AND ALSO YOU, PRINCE BEEZLEBUB.”

Then when he’s leaving the sriracha pentagram, he trips and falls directly into Beezle’s arms. So maybe the ‘clumsy’ part is true, but not the rest— Kal is unfortunately attractive, and the single thought running through Beezle’s mind is that he is incredibly glad that Greg and his snark aren’t here right now.

“Woah there, big guy,” Beezle says, because his brain apparently isn’t working.

Kal grabs his arms as he regains his balance and says, “DEEPEST APOLOGIES, YOUR HIGHNESS.”

“Uh, no worries. Please just call me Beezle.” And then Beezle does an about-face and says “Let’s get out of this crummy toilet,” because the bathroom is a mess, he’s a mess (Kal’s face is not a mess), and they should probably go see if anyone has died while they were summoning Kal.

What has he gotten himself into?

anonymous asked:

Prompt for you! With Clark having taken the DEO's kryptonite, Kara has to ask him for a piece when she's afraid of hurting Cat during sex. Awkward Kryptonian cousins and smugly pleased Cat all around.

“Hey Kal-El, I need a favor,” Kara says as soon as her cousin picks up, wanting to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible. She’s already pacing nervously, and Kal hasn’t said a word yet.

“Of course, Kara, anything you need,” comes the ready answer from the other end of the line, and Kara wishes she felt reassured.

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consideringhobbits  asked:

Three line fic: stuck in a tree

The tune that suddenly filled the kitchen jogged Bard from his intense concentration (because yes, cupcake making required such a thing).

He looked down at his ringing phone that was buzzing away on the counter and raised an eyebrow as he put the bowl of cupcake dough aside. The ID read annoying husband above a lovely picture of a smiling Thranduil. This made absolutely no sense, for his lover had left the kitchen merely ten minutes ago, and hadn’t planned on going anywhere, as far as Bard knew. He shrugged to himself and picked his phone up.

“Yes, honey?” A smile was playing on his lips; he expected some joke, or being told words of love he would never complain upon hearing over and over again.

Unfortunately, he had absolutely not expected nor ever wanted what followed.

“Don’t get mad, please.” Thranduil answered, his voice sheepish, but also strangely tense.

“What is it,” Bard demanded. “Where are you?” He tried to keep worry out of his voice, but mostly he was suspicious; whatever this was, there was a high chance he would not enjoy it.

“I might need your help. Right now.”

A loud meow accompanied the request, and Bard sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Thran, what have you done with Smaug?”

“I haven’t done anything,” His husband retorted. “Ask him what he’s done!”

“Okay, what is it then?”

There was a few seconds of silence, and Bard guessed his husband was weighing the pros and cons of telling him exactly what this call was about.

“I would greatly appreciate if you could come to the garden with the ladder.” Thranduil finally said.


But he had barely finished speaking when Thranduil hung up, leaving Bard confused and with no other choice than complying.

When he put foot in the garden though, Thranduil was nowhere to be seen. Bard frowned, looked around; it was very much empty, making him reconsider the possibility of a joke. His gaze only went up when he remembered about the ladder he was holding.

What he had even more not expected than that phone call, was to find his husband in their garden’s oak tree.

“Thran, what the hell are you doing!”

“I’m trying to save our idiot cat, that’s what I’m doing!” The blond man gestured further up the tree in an overly dramatic way, sighing as he did so. “But I didn’t think about how to get down with him and anyway, the bastard just went even higher!”

Bard didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

“You do realize he’s a full grown cat, right?”

“Yes, so what?”

“So he’s perfectly able of coming down by himself.”

Thranduil stared at him for a moment, before his gaze flickered between Smaug and his husband.

“Well, okay, but I can’t!” He finally said (it was pretty much whining actually). “Will you help me, please?”

“I’m really considering leaving you up there until the children come back, to be honest. I’m sure they’d love to take pictures.” Bard inspected his nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, knowing he would burst out laughing if he looked at Thranduil’s face for even a second. “To put on Facebook, you know. Or what’s that thing Sigrid likes so much, Tumblr? She says her ‘notes’ exploded with that video she took of you singing and dancing to Staying Alive dressed in your ‘bling bling disco’ outfit.” The brunet grinned at the thought, obviously very proud of himself. “I have like three copies of that thing. Priceless.”

“Bard!” Thranduil exclaimed then, half gaping at his husband who was trying very hard not to laugh at his offended expression.

“What, you’re the one who authorized her to put it online!” Bard chuckled as he put the ladder against the tree. “But yeah, comin’, comin’.”

He quickly made his way up and lifted himself up a branch before he extended a hand to the blond with an amused grin, but instead of taking the hand that was offered to him, Thranduil pointed to Smaug instead.

“Can you go get him first anyway?”

Bard sighed, rolling his eyes at his husband. “Thran, I told you he’s able to—”

“No, he’s too fat!” Thranduil insisted, “His weight will drag him down, he’ll lose balance and he’ll die!”

Bard somehow managed to quell the urge to facepalm, “Okay, okay!”

Just as he caught a grumpy Smaug with one arm and prepared to go back to the branch on which Thranduil was waiting, there was a loud clutter of metal followed by a desperate ‘shit’. Bard was pretty sure he heard ‘he’s going to kill me’ in a much quieter tone, which sent a shiver run down his spine. Oh no.

“Thran, what was that?” Bard asked.

The worst thing was that he was 99% sure what the answer would be.

“Well, the ladder—”

“Oh no you didn’t.”

There was silence as Bard looked down to meet Thranduil’s sheepish gaze.

“Couch it is, I guess?”

You bet it was.

The kids were going to love this.

brokenvidrio  asked:

Supercat. #11 ❄️

Got a little carried away with this! It’s set in the This Is What You Came for Series, Part 8, but anyone is welcome to read as a stand alone piece. Hope you enjoy!


Two sets of boots landed in the snow. Kara gave Cat a gentle squeeze, checking in with her like she always did after a long flight, before placing her down. Meanwhile, Milia sprang from Clark’s arms, bounding across the frozen landscape like a caged puppy determined to reclaim her freedom.

“Whoa there,” he laughed. “Easy, pipsqueak.”

“It’s pointless,” Cat argued, rolling her eyes as she shook out her limbs, wrapping her own arms around her thick winter coat for added insulation. “She has more energy than a pack of wild…”

She stopped at the sight of Kara chasing after her, laughter echoing against glaciers as blue as the sky. Cat couldn’t help but smirk, cheekbones rising as she watched her wife mimic their daughter’s antics, both of them sticking their tongues out to collect snowflakes.

“At least it’s cute, right?” Clark chuckled.

“The cutest,” Cat sighed, until she eyed Kara moving towards her with a mischievous grin. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

She was pelted, right in the chest, followed by another, smaller projectile from Millie.

“If we didn’t have business to attend to, I’d bury you both up to your necks, rest assured,” she huffed, the corners of her lips giving away that she wasn’t angry. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather we accomplish why we came today and return to warmer climates.”

“But it’s so much fun here, mama!” Milia tugged her sleeve. “Please? Can’t we play just a little…”

“After,” Cat acquiesced.

“She’s right, baby,” Kara rested a hand on her shoulder, nodding to Clark. “Let’s do this.”

They moved inside The Fortress, Cat taking Milia’s hand, partly to ensure she didn’t touch anything she wasn’t supposed to, but more so out of nervousness. She knew this was necessary. They’d avoided it for as long as they could. Their child was exceedingly bright, capable, and decidedly safer knowing where she came from and how to protect herself, even if she was only eight.

“It’s just like Elsa’s castle in that old movie!” Millie beamed, sliding her feet along the ground, pulling her mother along as she attempted to skate. She was exhausting, but Cat loved her more than words could ever do justice. She tried to keep up, refusing to put too much of a damper on her enthusiasm.

“Careful, sweetie,” she admonished softly, planting a kiss on her head.

As they approached the console, Kara took Cat’s other hand, brushing away a few snowflakes from her hair.

“Do you remember the first time I brought you here?” she whispered.

“How could I forget?” Cat glowed. Even after all this time, she was still amazed at how such horrible events led to them growing closer, to discovering the strength of their bond, the beginning of what became their beautiful life together.

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