The lovely Faye requested a commission of her D&D character, Astrid. So here she is. Thanks again for supporting my work, Faye! :)

Tumblr is doing some stupid AI shit so go to blog settings > Visibility > Prevent third-party sharing.

also use Nightshade and Glaze to protect your artwork and images!!!!

here's a link to Nightshade

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best combination is usin Nightshade then Glaze on your images. Glaze creates a protective layer and Nightshade poisons the A.I. software.

OC commission requested by Thomas. Thank you for supporting my work! :)

hello, i am once again returning with supercorp fic because i just cannot help myself. please have a read and enjoy!

My OC, Lupe. She likes action movies, dogs, spicy food and going to the beach. And she loves, loves Elise Jorfald.

My OC, Elise. She likes music, fashion, cats and the sound of rain. And she loves, loves Lupe Martínez.

I had a great time working on this commission. Thanks for supporting my art, J! :)

Supercorp Medieval Fantasy AU

Lena is angry when Kara shows up on her balcony.

Until she realizes Kara is dying.

Iridescent is an Angst with a Happy Ending one-shot.

By the way, if anyone remembers this ask, this is the fic where - at the time - the only sentences with "light" were a massive spoiler 😌

What does “home” mean for someone who drifted across galaxies?

Of Songbirds and Home is a short Kara Danvers character study.

Lena was meeting her fiancee today, for the second time. In a dress with a frankly impractical cleavage and lipstick picked out by her mother, but at least they allowed her the boots. There was to be walking involved in this playdate, and no one was willing to risk a faked injury in heels.

Her fiancee arrived exactly on time, holding her hands unnaturally at her sides, giving off an incessant nervous energy that would’ve put Lena on edge even in better circumstances. Lena knew very little about her, but one thing had been clear from the start: she was weird.

Weird, and alien, and mandatory.

“Hello Miss Lena, pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the alien said, the same exact greeting as the last time, as if she’d memorised the one English line and refused to update it.

She was wearing the same tweed jacket, too, the same overly starched shirt, the same tight and hopeful smile. Holding out a bouquet in yellows and reds that may as well have been the very same one.

Only one thing was different, a greenish-yellowish smudge blooming on her cheek. It might have had something to do with alien anatomy. Might have been an alien fashion trend. Might have been there all along, and Lena simply hadn’t noticed.

No way.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Lena demanded.

“N-no!” the alien stammered, forceful and defensive. “Nothing! What’s wrong with your face?”

Lena frowned. She had never encountered such a horrendous liar. “Rude.”

The alien seemed to shrink. “Apologies. Thank you for being me here. Would you like we go to walk?”

“No,” said Lena. But she got up and walked toward the gardens, as per the El-Washington treaty, signed and filed and legally binding.

Keep reading

“We’re going to need to take these out for the wedding,” Lillian said, proprietary ‘we’ to go along with the proprietary touch to the piercings in Lena’s ear as she tidied up her hair.

“I can’t marry her,” Lena said offhandedly. Maybe if she was flippant enough about it, it would stick. 

Lillian’s reflection came just short of rolling her eyes. “The tongue one will have to go too, of course.”

“I can’t marry her,” Lena repeated. Even if—even if she could—Kara didn’t want it, either. 

“Lena, please. Only you would whine this much over saving the world.”

Saving the world. As if it hadn’t been Lillian trotting out a medieval solution to a decidedly modern problem, leveraging xenophobia and ignorance to get something for nothing. Well. Something for Lena. 

Close enough.

Keep reading

Lena opened the present late that night, finally alone in her pjs, in her bed, in her own damn apartment. 

Inside the garish red and blue wrapping was a brand spanking new… baseball glove. 

It took a couple solid minutes for her laughter to die down. She placed the mitt on her bedside table next to her glasses and turned off the light. 

. 

. 

The ships had arrived in the night, abrupt as a lightning strike, seven months ago. Just like in a self-centered disaster movie, dotting the skies over North America, Antarctica and Russia; cold and sprawling areas. 

They came with weapons and technology beyond imagining, with scared and tired children in brightly colored robes. Somewhere on the precipice between conquerors and refugees, and before the line could be crossed in either direction, came Lillian Luthor with an inventive, convenient solution: a daughter of Krypton’s most powerful family, and a daughter of Earth’s. In place of charity or diplomacy or surrender, a union. 

The president had a daughter too, of course, but politics have an unimpressive half-life while wealth only grows and grows.

Keep reading

Lena woke up with a crick in her neck and a horrible taste in her mouth, to the repeated sound of clapping. 

She groaned as she rolled her head and straightened her stiff legs from where they were folded awkwardly in the armchair, one hand sliding into her hair to finger comb it back to approximate shape. Her eyes stung; she hadn’t taken her contacts out. And she’d fallen asleep in her latest pony show dress. 

What a shitty slumber party. 

Clap. Thud. Clap. 

The couch was now Kara- and Streaky-free, housing only Lena’s blanket, folded into a neat little triangle. Like half a sandwich. 

Lena stumbled into her kitchen, flicking on the coffeemaker and staring at her pantry. She thought of Kara the day before, closing her eyes in near orgasmic bliss as she chewed her mouthful of fried dough and mango chutney. 

Sweet and junky, she decided, and pulled out white bread, chocolate spread and a couple bananas. 

Clap. Thud. Clap. 

Was that a grunt?

Keep reading

“I’m crushing hard on my fiancée,” Lena said into her phone.

“What a shame. You’d have done such numbers on grindr.” There was shuffling in the background, and Jack sounded muffled when he spoke. He was doing this on purpose, the bastard.

“I have to find a way to get us out of this.“ 

Papers crinkling. “Now that it’s actually working for you, right.“ 

Lena frowned. "It was one thing when it was just going to be platonic cohabitation, but I’m really…” she trailed off. “She doesn’t need some alien weirdo lusting over her all over the place." 

Jack snorted. "I seem to remember quite vividly a time when somebody else was the alien weirdo in these hypotheticals." 

"I know, I was being a xenophobic bitch. Add it to the list." 

"Oh? The ‘ten weird reasons why being engaged to a hot alien babe is actually ruining your life’ list? Or did you mean ’best friends hate her! This self-flagellating dyke has discovered twelve creative ways to catastrophize finding her fiancée sexy’?" 

Read more on ao3

BBC Merlin (2008 - 2012) ⤷ Katie McGrath as Morgana

Anyway. I've been working on arranged marriage au again

what kind of woman loves like this

read on ao3

supercorp, fluff, love confession, farmers’ market adventures, 1.7k

Lena is the softest person Kara has ever known.

And she’s known her six years (—loved her perhaps longer), but still marvels, sometimes, that a person can hold so much pain and still be so gentle.

It took time—far too many of those six years, but Lena doesn’t hold herself back anymore. She doesn’t hesitate or stiffen with hugs, and she doesn’t flinch when any of their friends reach out. She cuddles up against Kara as often as she can, seeking her warmth and curling close like a kitten.

It’s adorable, and not to be dramatic, but Kara is pretty certain that being on the receiving end of Lena’s special brand of gentle love is the best thing that’s ever happened to her, or could ever happen to anyone. Ever.

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