#morcai

“. . . wh—the cuteness of the serial number, Kon?!” Tim demands incredulously, staring at him in disbelief. Kon looks up again, blinking at him with a bemused expression. 

“What? No, Jesus, Tim,” he says, then runs his thumb along the curve of the cuff. “I’m talking about the inside.”

ah. this whole year summarised

There seems to have been a problem with spotify’s RSS feed we are working to fix it as we speak!

Those fucking traits tho!!!! I'm on chapter 6!!!!!!

“Superboy?” Suzie asks, sounding a little worried. “Do you not like them? I could find you some different ones, maybe, if–” 

Kon snaps a hand out in the direction of her voice from underneath the comforters, all of them soft and fluffy and smooth and the perfect level of coolness against his overheated skin, and tries to grab her. He can’t, like–feel her or anything, because she’s floating and not really, like, solid unless she wants to be, but . . . but he really wants to feel her. 

“Kon,” Tim hums, pressing a kiss against the back of his neck. “Can we finish getting you out of your clothes, baby? They’re still a mess.” 

“Pl’s,” Kon mumbles against his other self’s collarbone. “R’b, I–pl-pl’s.” 

There they go, Kara notes approvingly as Kon lets go of Match just long enough to roughly strip off his jacket and Match tenses sharply underneath him, but does not, in fact, take the opportunity to rip his guts out. So Kara thinks her optimism was warranted there, really. 

She’s a bit surprised to see Kon bothering to get his jacket off right now, though, all things considered. She’d have expected him to go straight for–

Kon fists his hand in his jacket and then shoves it down against Match’s chest, the El crest on the back of it pinned to his bared chest, and Kara realizes why he bothered with his jacket. 

Oh, good alpha, she thinks, feeling rather proud of him for that one. That’s something she should’ve thought of herself, honestly.