#Lena is always more than thrilled to indulge her

[the-queen-of-the-light]

One time while drinking a little too much aldebaran rum, Kara got the excellent, brilliant, flawless idea to try out that upside down spiderman kiss on Lena

But she didn’t necessarily think it through. Because when she felt Lena’s lips and tongue and a slight tug of her hair where Lena was grasping a handful, Kara may have kinda, sorta forgotten to keep flying and fell flat on the floor

(Alex definitely still has pics of Kara’s drunken, disheveled face gawping up from the floor as Lena smirks wickedly from above, and yes, she will be using them as blackmail)

[himbowelsh]

Hi! I loooooved your drunk band of brothers hc's so much, could you elaborate more on the pacific and saving private ryan boys? 🥰

oooooohhh dude if you insist

The Pacific

Robert Leckie: The Messy Drunk. Giving Leckie booze is highkey like disco dancing beside a hornet’s nest. You’re going to get stung, and it’s going to be severely unpleasant, you just don’t know how or when. Drunk Leckie...  is that friend. He really can’t be left alone; when out partying, he’s probably fine, but his moods swing from reckless highs to terrifying lows. All his guards are lower, and pent up emotions are quicker to bleed through  ---  because he can’t be assed to hold them back. He’ll drunk-dial his ex and leave a dozen voicemails, or call his mom to tell her how he really feels about his fourteenth birthday party...   and when friends try to step in, suddenly he’s shouting at them. Why? They didn’t do anything...  but Leckie is a mess, and it bleeds all over everything. Safest range for him is comfortably drunk. When he crosses the border into hammered territory, he’s a hazard to himself and others.

Runner Conley: The Energetic Drunk. No one knows what drugs Drunk Runner is on, but he needs to share. Whoa, is he wired. Alcohol is a suppressant, but no one ever bothered to inform him; he gains energy when he’s drunk. He’s the one on the dance floor for hours, busting a move and trying to convince his friends to join in; he’s the one shouting song suggestions and hollering about how it’s his friend’s birthday, hell yeah, pour it out  (it’s not actually Leckie’s birthday, but if it gets them free drinks he’ll roll with it). Runner is very inclined to drunk gymnastics, but should not under any circumstances be allowed to. Other than that, excellent guy to have on a night out.

Chuckler Juergens: The Ladies’ Man. Don’t worry, he’s having a great night. Chuckler’s got a very high tolerance, so he actually keeps his head pretty well; this is good, because he’s got to keep an eye on everyone else, before Runner cartwheels out a plate glass window. He isn’t the Mom Friend Drunk, however...  oh no, Chuckler’s got other things on his mind. Namely, flirting with every cutie in the bar. He’s great at flirting sober, but Drunk Chuckler is absolutely gifted. He’s suave, charming, funny, and no one on earth could tell he’s already had three vodka-and-limes. He spends most of his evening chatting girls up and dancing with them; his friends have to actively drag him away at the end of the night, otherwise he will end up going home with someone. He’s never drunk enough that it’s a bad idea, just drunk enough that he can’t think of a reason not to. After a night out, he finds numbers written on multiple places on his body. Once, someone wrote their number on his abs.

Hoosier Smith: The Dr. Jekyll. Give Hoosier a bottle of whiskey, and he turns into a different person, okay. He’s still...  like, he’s still Hoosier, but this Hoosier grins. With his teeth. This Hoosier will actually dance; he’ll flirt with people for the hell of it  (”for the hell of it” is Drunk Hoosier’s philosophy), he’ll try to talk Runner into gymnastics just so he can film it...  he got a job drunk once. He literally made one phone call, ended up having a twenty-minute conversation, and came back to tell everyone he just got hired as a finance manager. Drunk Hoosier is impressively cool in the face of a crisis; there’s nothing messy about him  (he observes Leckie’s swaying and slurring with disdain). He could probably be coached through first-aid drunk. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t be able to tell he’s drunk at all, you’d think he’s just like that.

Sid Phillips: The Impatient Drunk. Does not have time for anyone’s shit, and no longer cares to pretend he does. No one knows why Sid gets so short-tempered when he’s drunk. He’s not like that sober, so the going theory is he just has a lot of pent-up frustration. Now, when buzzed, Sid is a delight. He’s talkative, bubbly, and overall a treat to be around. This is where he should stay. The more he drinks, the progressively less fun the party gets, until he’s glowering at people across the room and shouting at someone for bumping into him. He will not win a bar fight, but he will start one, and not remember a damn thing about it in the morning. By the time Sid’s reached his limit, most of his friends are still just starting, so they’re usually sober enough to cut him off before he gets to that point.

Eugene Sledge: The Snuggly Drunk. He just gets lonely, okay? Liquor makes him morose, and he prefers not to be alone whenever he does choose to indulge. He needs someone there, just to keep him from getting lost in his own thoughts. When out with friends, Drunk Sledge is docile, pretty sweet, but unabashedly clingy. He wants to touch people; he’ll touch their faces, their hair, lean against their shoulders, hug them  (”someone help me,” Drunk Leyden says in abject terror, with Sledge wrapped around his waist)...   he’s just fine as long as there’s someone there to keep him entertained all night. Tell him a story and he’ll listen in silent rapture; give him a phone and let him watch videos, and he’ll be entertained for hours.

Snafu Shelton: The Possessive Drunk. Snafu...  is not a fun drunk to be around. He’s a funny drunk, but this does not make him fun. Drunk Snafu’s idea of fun is not dancing in the club, it’s setting a dumpster on fire. He’s never gotten arrested drunk, but whoa has he come close. So long as he has a more responsible friend to keep him in line, he’s going to “behave”  (and Snafu has a very strict rule that he does not drink alone, for his own good, so there’s usually someone). However, he...  latches onto this person. Like, he acquires them like a $1,000 watch, and refuses to let anyone else near them for the rest of the night. Since Burgie wouldn’t put up with it, this behavior only becomes really apparent with Sledge, because Snafu is fiercely protective of Drunk Sledge. (Drunk Sledge needs to be protected tbh.) He looks after him all night, steals drinks for him, makes sure he’s drinking water and not hugging strange men...  if Drunk Snafu doesn’t have a project, he’s going to commit a felony. Drunk Sledge is a godsend to his criminal record.

RV Burgin: The Hyperfocused Drunk. It’s not safe for him to get drunk, because he has to be the mom friend! He has to keep everyone else from burning the bar down! He knows this, but somehow his friends always end up pushing drinks on him, and next thing he knows, he’s five shots in wondering where rainbows come from. Drunk Burgie has a very one-track mind, and little patience for anything else. He’s not looking after his friends, because he can’t understand why dogs don’t have twins. He’ll discuss this out loud; he’ll crowdsource opinions. Drunk Burgie is actually very outgoing, but no one knows what the hell he’s talking about. His brain goes off in directions no one can follow, and next thing you know he’s trying to get to the library at midnight to see if they have any books about crayfish. (God forbid if he decides he wants fast food; he’ll talk about it for an hour, until someone’s annoyed enough to get it for him.)

Jay De L’Eau: The Giggly Drunk pt deux. He’s such a nice drunk. Everything is funny, and he’s constantly laughing at the dumb jokes and antics of everyone else; he’s less inclined to do the crazy shit, happier just to watch. He’ll stop and ask a stranger if they’re doing okay, or give his last few dollars away just because someone else needed it ---  he’s an angel and everyone’s thrilled that he’s here.

Andrew Haldane: The Bemused Drunk. Okay, he doesn’t drink too much as a rule, because he’s a responsible person, okay...  but Andy is weak to peer-pressure coming from his friends, so when he goes out, he’ll probably end up having a few. Liquor makes him thoughtful, and he’s a placid drunk overall. His reflexes are a lot slower, but he’s content to just sit there, observing everyone or lost in his own thoughts. He’s just...  not totally there. If he puts something down, he will misplace it. If he’s talking to someone, he’ll lose track of the threads of conversation halfway through, and need to be stared back on topic. He doesn’t remember what bar he’s in, what street he’s on, where he lives  ---   he can rattle off sports history facts like he’s reading from a mental wikipedia page, but god help him if he knows where he put his wallet.

Hillbilly Jones: The Responsible Drunk. He doesn’t know how he always ends up looking after everyone else during a night out. It’s not a responsibility he wants. There are at least two people in the group better suited for it. But Andy’s been staring out the window for ten minutes humming to himself, and Burgie is trying to remember what his brother said to him years ago, and Jay is about to give his wallet to a homeless man, damn it  ---  Hillbilly isn’t a big drinker, but liquor lends him a bit more patience. This is a godsend, because somehow he ends up wrangling the whole crew. He makes a good mom friend, keeping them from wandering off and reminding them to drink water, making sure they don’t go too wild...  Hillbilly’s night isn’t over until everyone else has gotten home safe. No, he’s not thrilled he’s gotta be the one to do it, but someone has to.

Gunny Haney: The Stripper. I’m sorry.

John Basilone: The ‘And I’ll Do It Again’ Drunk. He pretends he has a rule where he’d never do anything drunk that he wouldn’t do sober. This is...  almost true. John wouldn’t not start a barfight sober, if given a damn good reason, but he’d think it through a lot more. Drunk John...  does not think things through. Not for a second. He does things without considering the consequences. There’s a thin line with John, between “fun to have at parties” and “needs to be asked to leave”. Usually, he knows better than to drink enough to cross that valley, but when he does...  let’s just say, JP and Manny are banned from a few bars by sheer association.

Lena Riggi: The Careful Drunk. Lena does not have control issues. I’ll say it again, because she needs everyone to know: Lena does not have control issues. But if she’s going to be out of control, it’s no one’s business but her own. She hates the idea of really letting her hair down in front of strangers ---  or worse, casual acquaintances. Which isn’t to say she’s not fun at parties, she just...  minds her alcohol intake. She’s very aware of when she’s getting tipsy, and knows when to stop. She also keeps up with her friends, and is an expert at keeping an eye on them, wrangling them when they wander off or get into trouble. (Basically, she’s the perfect person to rein in Drunk John’s self-destructive tendencies.)

Saving Private Ryan

John Miller: The Depressed Drunk. No, really, this man shouldn’t be allowed to drink. He tries not to, as a rule. He knows his limits. Only on rare occasions does he actually get drunk, and once he does, everyone regret it. He’s...  not fun. He’s not responsible. He’s just sad. He’s got a lot of thoughts, and is clearly working through them right here at the table. He’s been staring at his hands for the past half hour, he won’t talk to anyone, and looks like he’s going to cry. Someone needs to take him home.

Mike Horvath: The Drunk With A Lot of Opinions. He’s a very social drinker, and doesn’t need to know anybody else at the party to have a good time. Mike will talk to anyone. More specifically, he’ll talk at anyone. He’s got a lot to say about the Black Rhino crisis, the 1998 Superbowl, sitcoms that ended 20 years ago... he feels very strongly about these things, and is not accepting dissenting opinions at this time. He won’t pick arguments with people, really, but he won’t shy away from them. Mike’s one rule on a night out is that he Will Not Dance, so he has to do something with his time.

Richard Reiben: The Shouty Drunk. He’s not even shouting at anyone. Reiben isn’t an angry drunk, he’s just loud. His entire drinking philosophy is “turn down for what” and the answer is: nothing. He’s not going to turn down, he doesn’t feel inclined. He doesn’t really dance, just gets excited and fistpumps the air a lot; he thinks drunk sports are a great idea; he’s nicer to people, for some reason, but will also talk their ear off if allowed. If he’s a pain in the ass sober, he’s even worse drunk, because he’s got twice as much to say and no indoor voice to say it with.

Daniel Jackson: The “Dude, Watch This” Drunk. He really doesn’t change that much when drunk, to be honest. Jackson’s got a lot of self-control, and doesn’t overindulge often. When he does drink, he gets a bit chattier, but that’s about it. He prefers not to dance, and will responsibly stop his friends from doing things likely to get them killed...  only to do those things himself, just because he can. He’s drunk vodka out of a broken lightblub; he jumped from an upstairs window into a frozen swimming pool; he stole Horvath’s wallet. The question is not “what won’t he do”, it’s “why would he do this”? He’s not that drunk. He’s never drunk enough to justify anything; he just uses liquor as an excuse to do all the things his sober friends would dissuade him from.

Stanley Mellish: The Karaoke Drunk. He’s actually so much fun to go out drinking with, because he’s having a good time, having a good time  ---  he’s the life of the party. He’s the one standing on tables and riling the bar up; he’s got the best drunk jokes; he always knows when someone needs another drink, and finds one for them. (He made it a special project to get Upham drunk the first time they went out, and was thrilled with the result.) Loves to drunk-sing. If the bar does not have a karaoke stage, Mellish will simply create one.

Adrian Caparzo: The Drunk White Girl. My man completely forgets that he’s over six feet tall and has a pair of brass knuckles in his pocket. Caparzo doesn’t remember exactly why he came out tonight, but he’s out, and he’s had so much vodka, and he just threw up into a potted plant, and his shoes hurt, and now his shoes are off, and he lost a shoe, and where’s Fish, oh my god, they lost Fish --- (Mellish is right behind him, laughing his ass off.) Things get messy. He’s very sweet, however, very liberal with compliments, extremely supportive, and really craving fast food.

Irwin Wade: The Tragic Backstory Drunk. Wade gets a lot more upbeat after he’s had a few drinks; he talks louder, smiles brighter, and really comes out of his shell a lot more. Unfortunately, he’s a talker. Drunk Wade has not learned the virtues of shutting the fuck up. He doesn’t need to talk about everything, he just occasionally starts blabbing about really personal shit, like the time his grandmother died of cancer or the first time he saw his mother cry, and it’s like...  are you okay, buddy? Do you need to talk to someone? He says it so casually, too, like the liquor has numbed whatever obviously raw emotions are tied to these memories. His friends always know Wade a lot better after a night out, in plenty of ways they didn’t need to. They’ve learned to be smart about it; anytime Wade starts rambling, Reiben pushes some pretzels in his mouth, just so he’ll happily shush.

Timothy Upham: The Enthusiastic Drunk. He’s having a great time, even if no one else is. Drunk Upham comes out of his shell a lot more, which would be great if the liquor gave him any extra social skills. It doesn’t. Honestly, he just gets...  more oblivious to everyone else, and cares less about what other people are doing. He’s just vibing, and having fun doing it. Will bop along to music even if no one else is dancing with him, will ramble even if nobody’s listening...  oh god, and he loves to be on the dance floor. Like, the best way to keep an eye on him is to just drag him out and plant him in the middle of a dancing crowd, because he’s just happy to be there. 10/10 pleasant drunk, doesn’t know what the hell is going on. What language is he speaking? Who knows.

James Ryan: The Fun-Time Drunk. No, really, the rest of these guys are disasters, here’s the dude you want to go drinking with. He never goes alone, always with a group of buddies; he comes out solely to have a good time, and will not accept alternatives. This man has done body shots before. He loves loud music, crowded bars, and lively people. Yes, he can be a little obnoxious when drunk, but no more than your average well-intentioned dumb kid. He’s such an emotionally supportive drunk friend; he’s very physically affectionate, and will hug people while trying to coax them out of their sour moods. Anything can be solved with a trip to the dance floor. By the end of the night, he’ll probably end up passing out on someone’s shoulder, probably on the ride home, but he’s just worn out from a great party.

[star-birthmark]

What if I go ahead an ask,,,, for all the questions? 👀👀💞

Wait but Lena that’s illegal- okay, since someone figured they could ask for all of the questions, this actually took time to sit down and write out. Anyway, thanks for requesting all of them. My favorite for a heads up is “bronze”. 

black - how do you and your f/o comfort each other during rough times?

Rough days most of the time have to do with mental health for us, either when his PTSD from Egypt kicks in, or my mental lows become unbearable. When that happens, we hold each other, often in silence, and take comfort in each other’s presence. When we’re at our worst, words are often too painful to say, so we just rest, knowing we love and need each other, and that we’ll thank each other when we feel better. 

dim gray - what do you two wear to formal events? what kinds of formal events do you go to together?

I envision Jotaro wearing a class, black suit, his hair slicked back, and a tight grip around my waist. We like to coordinate, a classic black suit that makes his eyes pop, while I’m in a dress like this one, with minimal but glowy makeup and my hair straightened and pinned back. We both like a more clean cut but sexy and sophisticated look. 

eggshell - how do you show each other that you trust one another?

With secrets. Neither one of us open up easily at all, so if we are each other’s first person to tell anything to, especially when talking about our feelings, that’s how we know we trust each other. 

beau blue - what would the both of you do together on a lazy summer afternoon?

We’ll spend the day together in the park under the shade of a tree, a huge picnic blanket beneath us, a packed lunch in tow. We’d either read or bring work that can be done on paper. No computers in sight, just too adults relaxing together. 

french blue - after you two have gone stable, what kinds of dates do you go on?

Even in the beginning we went on restaurant dates, and that has not changed. When it was just the two of us (no Juro and Tamara), and we’d reached an anniversary, we’d drive into the city and have a good meal at a five star place. one regular dates, we frequent Chez Lorraine (a cafe I love) when staying at the Dutch SPW location, and Tonio’s when staying in Morioh. 

indigo - who says ‘i love you’ first? how does it happen?

I say it first, just because I need that verbal affirmation more than he does. He makes fun of me for it sometimes, but he always says it back, with the same calm and assured smile and a nudge to pull me closer and hold me.

electric violet - what’s something odd, extravagant, or thrilling that you and your f/o like to do sometimes?

We go to the spa together sometimes, especially if it’s after a long mission with SPW. Not that weird but it is funny to see Jotaro with the classic mud mask and cucumbers on the eyes. 

lilac - what’s something that makes you and/or your f/o nostalgic?

For me, it having Dutch pancakes in the morning, it makes me think of visiting my grandfather, or my mom making them for me and friends after sleepovers. Jotaro tells me he’s taken back to grad school everytime we work at the dining room table together, but I think that’s too cheesy.

tea rose - when you and your f/o first get together, how do you act towards each other in terms of affection? is it awkward? does it come naturally?

It was awkward at first. Like I said before, I need verbal affirmation, but Jotaro isn’t always good with expressing these things into words. But it is in these moments where he unpromptely speaks romantically and makes me feel he’s watching my back and that I am always loved and cared for. 

wild watermelon - what’s both of your dream vacations like? do you agree on the location/activities?

I love to visit cities and go to museums and concerts, things to improve myself culturally. Jotaro unsurprisingly, loves more tropical vacations and beaches: he never really leaves work at home. Luckily with working for SPW, we can do both once a year. 

jasper - how fast do you two take your relationship?

We took our relationship pretty quickly. We met in grad school a year right as we were both beginning our theses. We got married until two years later, and didn’t have Juro until two years after that. 

auburn - what’s one unhealthy or lavish food you can both agree is worth indulging in?

We both love to eat Holly’s cooking. She always manages to feed us the least healthy things imaginable (and she even makes sure it’s kosher for me ugh love her) but we love her for it. Also, Grandma Suzie always feeds us this delicious New York tiramisu when we visit her, and that’s amazing as well. 

coffee - do either of you have a garden or any house plants? if so, how good are you at taking care of them?

Neither one of us has a green thumb, so even if we do have houseplants, they don’t last long. We do have a big fish tank though! We’re great at taking care of those guys. 

flame - would you two be more prone to get up early and watch the sunrise or go out and watch the sunset? alternatively, would you stay up until the sunrise and then sleep ‘till one?

We’d be more prone to watch the sunset. When we can, we both love to sleep in. One time, we both instinctively woke up for work at 7am, realizing it was a holiday, and “cuddled” sleepily until 1 pm. 

bronze - do you and your f/o have any kinds of traditions you keep?

We binge watch Columbo every year on his birthday, and DBZ every year on mine. We also have a tradition of switching labs for a day. Our graduate lab assistants and interns love switch day, because it’s always funny to see me freaking out about picking up a crab, just as it’s funny to see Jotaro confused over DNA sequencing. I know nothing about marine life, he knows nothing about molecular biology and that’s okay.

canary yellow - what are the silliest nicknames you and your f/o use for each other?

Jotaro once heard my mom call my “doobbles” over the phone and called me that for a week after. Since I’m sensitive about nicknames and don’t like calling other people awful ones, Jotaro just gets Jojo. 

granny smith apple - if you and your f/o had to move someplace new, where would it be? why?

We did have to move someplace new. We left the US together after grad school to travel, and now switch back and forth between our SPW location in Amsterdam, and our location in Japan. We go where the organization needs us, so even if it isn’t the most stable, we have each other, plus Juro and Tamara love seeing the world with us. 

hunter green - what’s your favorite thing to do outdoors together?

We’ve gone scuba diving together. Just as one might expect being with Jotaro Kujo, I never go under as long as he does, but it’s nice to spend time on the boat nearby, relaxing and keeping him company. 

mountain meadow - on a particularly cold, rainy, or otherwise stay-in-doors kind of day, what activities do you do with your f/o?

Rainy days are when we experiment with cooking, since we can’t just go out for dinner like we might be inclined to. Jotaro is a much better cook than I am, but I have had my moments of not burning the food and actually making something tasty. I’m the better baker also. 

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Cult of Luthor: Second Thoughts

Not everyone is glad to see Lena. Competition isn't valued in LuthorCorp, but rivalry is. The dark, unspoken resentment of prime lab time, interesting projects and prestige of success are as much collaboration Lex allows, and Lena is no stranger to those. To be honest there were times she used to get a quiet thrill when she won out against Morgan Edge or Ainsley Merchant for prestigious opportunities. Her scores were higher, her input more valuable, her mind quicker. Her potential, the selection panels say, is undeniable. Unstoppable. But now… Now Lena doesn't feel a thing when Morgan Edge sneers about her being easy prey to idiot outsiders, and she's grateful Ainsley King keeps his distance, though his dark gaze seems to follow her, simmering with a quiet, dangerous rage that makes her skin crawl with unease. It's nothing like the friendly jibes of high school gym class. Instead she focuses on throwing herself into her work, adding herself to every housekeeping rotation, into improving the efficiency of the greenhouses and the solar panels and anything else she can think of that would prove her devotion to the compound, and LuthorCorp. Weeks pass into months. She wonders if the FBI have lost faith in her, if they assume that she's genuinely returned to the fold. Do they think she's dead? Does Kara?

The night of Sam's due date, Lena sits in the furnace room with Jack and leans into his side as she envisions herself at her friend's bedside, guiding her through the birth of her first child.

She wonders what her name will be. Her abduction falls out of the public memory, and she finds relief in the few short weeks of normality it brings-- until the commissary goes quiet one evening meal, and Lawrence steps forward with a tablet in hand. Lena's stomach sinks. It can mean one thing: punishment. Her eyes meet Jack's, her stomach churning ominously. "Outsider material has been located within the compound," Lawrence announces, his features grim. Silence answers him, but relief floods Lena. Contraband. She has nothing of the outside. Whoever will be named, it has nothing to do with her mission-- "Lena Luthor will report to the meeting hall after evening meal to receive her punishment." Lena's blood runs cold as the commissary erupts into whispers. Morgan smirks as though he's won something, Jack's fear stares at her from expressive features. Lex is nowhere to be seen. When the meal is over, Lena is not the only one to make their way to the meeting hall. Though the punishment belongs to her, the others are expected to bear witness, as she has done for countless others. Often, it would be a mild infraction, a behavioral correction delivered with the impartiality of a king. Sometimes, it's worse. Contraband indicates a lack of happiness within the community, a selfish desire for more, a willing fascination with the triviality of the outside world. It undermines the fabric of the community. It could mean something as trivial as a baseball card-- a relic of a parent's love of the sport, passed down to a son-- or as serious as drugs. Lena has no way of knowing where on the spectrum her transgression lies, as the wrongdoing isn't hers.

The meeting hall is a long narrow building at the center of the compound, used for celebrations, announcements-- and punishment.

As Lena approaches, she imagines how the last time it was used was probably to inform the community of her abduction, and here she is on her way to answer for a crime not her own.

Lex waits for her on the steps leading to the hall, his features stony. At the base, Lena slows to a stop, waiting for the community to fall in around them. Here her crime will be read, her guilt judged. Within, she knows, lies her punishment.

“Lena Luthor," Lex announces, voice carrying across the crowd. "Contraband has been discovered in your dormitory during inspection." A hysterical laugh nearly bubbles out of Lena, the absurdity of the farce hitting her suddenly. Inspections are frequent and unannounced-- if she had tried to hide contraband, she'd be smart enough not to hide it in a shared dormitory frequently searched.

But her features remain schooled as Lex extends a hand towards Otis Graves, who delivers a worn magazine into it. When Lex lifts it for the community to see, Lena's heart lurches at the sight of a half-naked woman kneeling in sand, and the publication's title in yellow block lettering. Playboy.

"Pornography," Lex declares. "After your long absence, I expected you to be relieved to be home. But it seems the outside has clung to you, and has found its way into our home along with you, in the form of the most base of idle distraction. Have you anything to say for yourself?" Lena's mind races. To simply deny possession would effectively be an admission of guilt, and a shameful attempt to escape punishment. But perhaps, if she conducts herself well, she can make her inevitable punishment work for her. "I've never seen that before," she says, swallowing thickly. "But I don't know whose it could be, or how it found its way to my dormitory. So I accept their punishment for myself, and for the community, for if someone has reached for such distraction, then we have together failed to meet the needs of their potential.” She doesn't allow her gaze to pull away from Lex's. Her chin remains lifted, her jaw tight, and she thinks she sees something flicker behind the sternness of his gaze. Approval? Irritation? Lena can't tell. After a long moment, Lex gestures for her to join him. "Step forward, Lena, and accept your punishment." The hand Lex touches to the small of her back at the doors of the hall is not reassurance. It's the slightest push of resistance when she stops dead at the sight of the chair installed at the center of the hall. Heart racing, Lena's eyes lock on the solid wood frame, the tall slatted back, and the leather straps affixed to the feet, seat, arms, and head. "Lex..." Deep, primal fear claws at Lena's ribs, nearly driving her backwards. This is a punishment she knows well, but not one ever levied in the meeting hall. It's not the community's punishment-- it's their father's. Only Lex's hand and the press of bodies filling in around them keeps Lena from bolting. Pleas lock in her throat-- anything but this. But just as they had all those nights under Lionel's watchful gaze, Lena's feet carry her forward, and her legs sit her down in the familiar chair as Otis and Lawrence move in to fasten the buckles on the straps. "As your punishment, you will sit idle for a period of twelve hours," Lex announces. One by one, Lena's limbs lock to the chair. The strap over her forehead is left for last; Lena catches Jack's gaze, dark with fury. Don't, she pleads silently, unable to even shake her head as the strap cinches tight. Don't do anything. "I hope you use your time of penance to consider the value of contribution-- not only to the community, but to yourself. If you do not serve the community, you have no worth to the community. You are as useless as you will be for the next twelve hours." Lena closes her eyes tight against the crawl of her skin, the instinctive pull against the bonds. Against the sight of Lex's eyes, glinting like their father's did. The chair had been his personal punishment-- for Lena more than anything. Lena who asked questions about things she shouldn't be interested in. Lena, who was combative with her peers when they stepped on her toes. Lena, who insisted when she should have relented. Once she's secure, she waits for the community leave. They don't. They can't-- no one may leave until Lex does, and Lex has no intention of sparing Lena the humiliation. He begins to speak, a professor at his lectern, waxing philosophical about community, distraction, and idle hands. "The time is coming for us to show the world what our community stands for-- to set the example-- to demonstrate the potential humanity is capable of!"

His voice booms, and many eyes focus on him, rather than Lena and the tears building in her eyes.

"What would they see in us, if we succumb to the same, degenerate distraction as themselves. We must rise above, we must elevate our potential, and show them the way. "If Lena Luthor-- my blood, your esteemed sister-- can fall prey to such vicarity, then it is clear that the perils of idle minds can besiege anyone, even those who may have the greatest potential of all. We must choose to assert focus and industry over the pull of slothful indulgence, or else we are no better than the outside world..." On and on and on, late into the evening, when finally the sermon comes to a close. "Look upon your sister," Lex urges finally. "Look upon her idleness, and let her punishment serve as a reminder that even the greatest potential can be rendered useless to the community, to the world, if left to stagnate." The punishment may not have belonged to her, but Lena feels the shame all the same. Under the crowd's gazes her skin heats and her eyes burn, filling with tears that spill down her cheeks when she presses her eyes shut. It's the only part of herself she can move, besides her mouth, and she knows that if she unlocks her jaw to speak only sobs would come pouring out, so she presses her eyes shut and breathes against her immobility, breathes against the memories threatening to overwhelm her. When Lex draws to a close, releasing his audience for the night, Lena opens her eyes, and catches Jack's gaze, still wide and full of anguish as he turns to finally leave with his parents. Lex lingers after the hall empties, regarding her with a dispassionate gaze. Please, she almost asks. Please, Lex. Don't leave me here. Because she knows he will. Father always did. But she says nothing, and Lex says nothing. He leaves without a word, and as he nears the doors the lights overhead extinguish, plunging her into a silent, pitch black. The door echoes when it shuts behind him, sealing Lena to her misery.

Lena's thoughts race as the darkness presses in on her. She searches for reason, some rationality to explain why Lex chose this as her punishment-- why this chair saw the light of day, why he allowed it to be seen by the community. It was always their secret shame, endured and unspoken of. Lionel always expected his blood to be better than the rest, and so his punishment was stricter than any he visited on another potential. When he died, Lena thought this punishment had been buried with him. There's not a single excuse Lena can fathom that brings her peace. Not when Lex knows of the dread the memories of this chair brings. Not when he knows she used to stay awake for days after a night in the contraption, unable to sit still long enough to rest. Not when Lex used to calm her nightmares, promising she wouldn't be seeing the chair again that night. Her heart pounds faster and faster as the dark and the silence and confinement slowly drive her mad. The calm she clung to during the humiliation of her punishment shatters-- she struggles against the straps, pulling and twisting and squirming what little she can in an attempt to slip free, and heaves great, wracking sobs when the straps hold her fast. When her tears and her struggles run out, the anguish leaves her hollow with exhaustion. Only her desperation remains, and her mind reaches to be anywhere but there.

Kara reaches back.

Kara's arms wrap around her, voice soft in Lena's ear as they embrace that final night. “I'm going to keep the apartment we chose,” she'd told Lena. “Eliza and Jeremiah said they'd help cover rent until you get back. So you have a home waiting for you, whenever you're finished.”

“It won't be long,” Lena promised. A lie, she knows now.

“I'll miss you. But I'm really proud of you too. You're doing a good thing.”

Lena had nodded into Kara's shoulder, even though she couldn't quite believe it past the pounding of her heart. Even now, she can smell the scent of the fabric softener that scented Kara's sweater.

“We will see each other again,” Kara declared. “You still have a ton of movies to watch…”

Despite the discomfort of the unpadded seat and the pounding of her head under the tight strap keeping it in place, Lena slips into a fitful doze, her mind filled with nothing but the imagined warmth of Kara's arms around her.

[creativity-is-rebellion]

Top 10 Favourite Movies I Have Seen (So Far)

How to Make an American Quilt (1994)

I’m not sure exactly why, but I have always had a thing for intergenerational movies that go back and forth in time, which I think that this movie does superbly. You get to know each of the character’s backstories, and it is also a coming-of-age film where the main protagonist must choose a path and be happy with the one she goes down. This was a film I would watch again and again as a teenager when I was sad (movie marathons were always the cure for my blues back then). More recently, there are other reasons why this movie appeals to me; I can relate to Finn’s thesis-writing (I know it’s frustrating and easy to distract yourself from), and I can also relate with her dilemma in choosing what kind of future she will have. Also, Winona Ryder can do no wrong. Winona forever.

The Joy Luck Club (1993)

Another intergenerational film, I think it does a great job of juxtaposing the difference between parents who immigrate to another country and their children who do not really understand the sacrifices they have made to actually get there, which can cause rifts and divides. It does this specifically with the Chinese culture in mind, which is fascinating in its own right, and quite different to the US, which is where they immigrate to. The daughters who try to understand their mothers are able to bridge the divide when they are able to empathise with where their parents are coming from, by the parents telling them tales of their origins. My favourite character is hands-down Ying-Ying St. Clair, whose backstory is definitely the most tragic. In China, Ying-Ying was happily married to Lin-Xiao (Russell Wong) with a baby boy in China until Lin-Xiao abuses her and abandons her for an opera singer. Overwhelmed by her depression, Ying-Ying begins to dissociate and accidentally drowns their baby son in the bathtub during one of these episodes, which haunts her ever afterwards. Years later, she has emigrated to America and suffers from trauma of her past, worrying her new family, including her daughter Lena. When she is able to get Lena find her voice and to leave her own abusive husband, Harold. I have nothing but love for this film, which breathes life into Amy Tan’s equally beautiful novel. This film adaptation does the novel proud; It’s well-acted, well-told, and simply just heart-warming.

Sinister (2008)

I love myself a good horror movie, and Sinister flips the script by starting out as a crime mystery before going bananas and introducing Mr. Boogie (or Bughuul), a pagan demon who manipulates the lives of children, having them kill their families, until he can consume the child's soul. Ethan Hawke, who both directs and stars in this film, does a phenomenal acting job as washed-up crime author Ellison Oswalt, who moves his family into one of the homes which was the scene of one of the ‘crimes’, where a whole family has been massacred and one child is missing. It isn’t long until he finds a bunch of 8mm tapes in the attic, which represent the equivalent of snuff films, detailing previous family massacres occurring elsewhere. Seriously, some of these 8mm tapes are both difficult but strangely thrilling to watch, due to their haunting quality. It takes him a while before he becomes aware of Bughuul, who he discovers hiding in the corner of one of the tapes, and who he is able to get to know about with the help of a rookie cop and a professor. The ending is also a delicious twist, and indicates the inevitability of not being able to escape evil. Seriously, it’s a must-watch, as it breathes rare new life into the tired horror genre.

Insidious, Chapter One (2010)

Another worthy 21st century horror addition, the Insidious franchise (especially the first film) delivers some great twists, and creates a rich universe way beyond any ordinary haunted house or child-plagued-by-demon trope, by introducing some genuinely scary characters (The Lipstick Demon, Doll Girl, and the Bride in Black, anyone?!), and also introducing The Further, a dark and timeless astral world filled with tortured dead souls and nightmarish spirits. I love the twist that the end of this movie delivers, and also the appropriate jump-scares throughout. It is yet another horror movie that breathes life into a somewhat tired genre. 10/10, I highly recommend this movie, even if The Lipstick Demon looks kinda like Darth Maul, lol.

Reality Bites (1994)

Although it’s kind of aged badly, due to advancing technology, this movie was one of the first to introduce the idea of reality television, whilst also capturing the zeitgeist of Generation X, with it’s rather nihilist message about life after college, and the trials and tribulations of growing up. Some of the characters (especially Lelaina and Troy) are self-indulgent, immature, intellectually snobby and navel-gazing, but you root for Lelaina to succeed because she is played with enough sympathy by the amazing and incomparable Winona Ryder that we believe she deserves better. This is one of the reasons I hate that she ends up with Troy, even if he is the broody bad boy we are all expected to swoon over. Seriously, he treats Lelaina so badly that I just want to punch him in the face. It also has some great side characters, like Vicky, who works at The Gap, but is scared to find a real job, and Sammy, who is gay and afraid that he may have HIV. It is also relatable for me as a Millenial who graduated from university when the Global Financial Crisis (GFC) hit, making it complicated to find a good job, mirroring the recession that these characters graduated into. I love that it talks about pivotal Generation X issues, as well as universal issues that encompass growing up and moving into adulthood. Also, again, Winona forever.

Candyman (1992)

Candyman is a horror film that subverts horror movie expectations whilst still managing to deliver some great scares. Being set in the long-gone notorious Chicago housing projects Cabrini Green, a name synonymous with vice, violence and murder, and a place which instils non-supernatural horror in an individual all on its own, tells the story of thesis student Helen, who is researching urban legends, and through her participants, she learns the story of Candyman, a vengeful rendition of the classic Bloody Mary, who will split you from groin to gullet with his hook for a hand if you say his name five times in the mirror. 

The people who recount this legend go on to recount a notorious murder that has taken place recently in Cabrini Green which has been attributed to Candyman, and Helen chooses to investigate the claim. Helen rationalises that the residents of Cabrini Green use the legend of Candy Man to cope with their stressful daily lives. Before visiting Cabrini Green, Helen and her research associate decide to test the theory by saying ‘Candy Man’ five times in a mirror, but nothing happens, at least not yet. In real life, the murder rate in Cabrini Green peaked in 1992, the same year that Candy Man was made. Candy Man himself (played with great aplomb by the legendary Tony Todd) doesn’t show up until around 44 minutes into the movie, but when he does, he steals the show with his dangerous charisma. 

In total, Candy Man subverts 3 horror rules: Number one, that you need to have a high body count to keep audiences engaged. By doing so, it stretches out the tension for as long as it can. Number two, there is a Black antagonist. There were some issues addressed by Black critics that this depiction played into some racist stereotypes, such as the idea that Black people need a White saviour, that Black people are especially superstitious, and that Black men prefer to pursue White women. But one could say that Candy Man is more a depiction of the White fears associated with Black poverty, and specifically, White Liberal fears that Black poverty can’t be helped, despite their best efforts. Helen doesn’t mean any harm (some may even call her an ally), yet she dies anyway. 

By making the antagonist Black, the film becomes about so much more than just visceral horror, it is about societal, racial and historical horror as well, albeit told from a White perspective. It also plays into the fear that Black people, through no fault of their own, could be killed for no reason at all but panicky neighbours. Finally, number three, this film is more sad than scary; sadness tends to be the most common negative emotion that I experience, so I am drawn to movies that have something to say about it. The only reason Candy Man gives for wanting to kill Helen is that she demystified him, which seems pretty petty and vindictive. She is also supposed to resemble his long-lost love that got him killed in the first place. When Candy Man kills the psychiatrist in the movie, it is literally the only on-screen proof we have that Candy Man isn’t just a figment of Helen’s imagination. Candy Man, like my most favourite horror film, The Shining, begs the question: Are there really supernatural elements at play here, or is the main character simply going insane? Phew, this was more than I planned to write, but I guess this film is complex enough to warrant it. See it for yourself.

Final Destination (2000)

As time wore on, the Final Destination franchise became more well-known for its gruesome deaths (and tired plot) than anything else, but the first addition was a fresh take on the inescapability of death, and the vengance Death Itself may take if you screw with his Design. The first 15 minutes of the film are truly thrilling through the main character Alex’s premonition, and the wait after the gang have been kicked off the airline for the plane to blow up without them on board. Seriously, that scene gave me aerophobia more than any Air Crash Investigation episode. What follows are some truly twisted, macabre domino-like deaths that prove that Death has a wicked, dark sense of humour. That every character in this franchise dies eventually is kind of disappointing, and definitely places Death in this franchise as possibly the most diabolical villain in all of the horror genre (move over, Jason and Michael and Freddy). The mysterious undertaker played with delightful maliciousness again by Tony Todd adds to the mystery of understanding Death’s Design. and the reality that no matter what the survivors do, Death will eventually come for them, really adds to the overall hopelessness and nihilism of the whole situation. The way that the last film of the Final Destination franchise, which is really a prequel to the first film, rounded out the franchise really well, and provided a twist as good as the original film was epic. If you are going to watch any of the films in this franchise, I cannot recommend the first and last film enough.

Now and Then (1996)

I love this film more for the cheesy, feel-good memories of my childhood it gives me. Christina Ricci is also one of my all-time favourite actresses (I absolutely loved her as Wednesday Addams), which just bolsters this movie in my eyes. Thora Birch does a good job as well. But seriously, I can pop this movie on any time and it’ll just make me instantly happy for a simpler era. Even if I wasn’t born in the 60′s or 70′s, there is a lot to relate to about bridging the gaps between childhood and the inevitable teen cross-over. I mean, who didn’t have seances in graveyards with their friends as a 12-year-old girl? No-one?! Just me then. OK. Ahem. I think my favourite character was hands-down Gabby Hoffman’s Sam, who is trying to cope with her parent’s divorce in a town and time when divorce is unheard of. I like that her grown-up character played by Demi Moore is a successful writer, and is also the narrator of the entire movie. If you want to watch a truly feel-good movie that promotes feminist ideals, this movie is for you.

IT: Chapter One (2017)

Since I watched the 1990 TV miniseries in 1992 at the tender age of 7 (my parents never monitored what I watched - which sometimes led to some gnarly nightmares), I have been waiting for a worthy remake. I, like most of the aficionados that watched the miniseries, loved Tim Curry’s rendition of the demonic entity of IT, but weren’t quite happy about the spider ending. If you’ve seen it, you know what I mean. You may be asking why I haven’t included Chapter Two that came out this year (2019), and the reason is, despite Bill Hader’s wonderful performance as the grown-up Ritchie, a cameo by Stephen King himself, and more screen-time for Bill Skarsgaard’s scary clown, the ending here was also disappointing. IT’s true form just doesn’t seem to translate well onto screen. It was adequate. Meh. Anywho.

IT Chapter One, however, is awesome. Instead of jumping back-and-forth in time like both the mini-series and the book did, it focuses on the well-acted ‘Loser’s Club’ as kids, and is truly scary like this story should be. The bully Henry Bowers is truly sociopathic, and Bill Skarsgaard as IT truly nails the fact that IT is so much more than just a killer clown. The death scene with Georgie at the beginning of the film is quite subversive and daring, as it actually shows you the death of a child in all its gory detail. My verdict? Watch the first with gusto, but do not expect anything great from Part Two. Part Two has to exist for continuity, but the first film outshines the second installment in every way possible.

Lady Bird (2017)

For an Indie sleeper film, this story is fantastic as both a coming-of-age film and a depiction of separating from your parents and becoming your own person. Ladybird’s mum is overprotective, and Ladybird needs to break free, whilst also trying not to cause a permanent rift. She’s a different kind of gal, sensitive, intelligent, artistic, and so not meant for a dead-end small town. Her transition toward independence is extremely relatable to me, as I grew up with an over-bearing, interfering mother myself. Also, it’s set in 2002, the year I graduated, with adds to my feelings of nostalgia. It’s the relatablity of Ladybird that makes it so re-watchable to me. I grew up in a dead-end town, was creative and different to my peers, and went to a fancy private school that I didn’t fit into as well. So Ladybird is a cinematic delight as you see her progress to something more hopeful in the future. A must-watch.

[supergirlimaginesfic-blog]

Dating Lena Luthor: Dom!Reader headcanons [NSFW]

Request: since you said anything,can i have some headcanons about lena having a daddy kink with dominant reader please?            

a/n: I hope y’all realize Lena smut always breaks me... LIKE, this is probably my most favourite type of thing to write LMAO. But also, even though this is one of my favourite ideas to write for, it is surprisingly pretty difficult to write straight up smut all the time for some reason? So that’s why it’s a little lowkey these days, in case y’all were wondering! That particular muse is apparently in hiding... I have to scour the dark garbage corners of the earth to find it again LOL

This got really mushy in the end, leave me alone I apparently have feelings?? Weird, I’m gonna have to have that checked... Have fun y’all! ;)

- - - - -

you could say you’ve been warned about the trouble Lena Luthor could cause you, but not once did you ever think you would consider that trouble laying on your back with her straddling you, your name falling from her lips in a long moan that echoes in her empty office

your girlfriend, as you know, is a woman of utter wonder and she is never merely just one thing - sometimes she likes being obedient and sometimes, she likes to push your buttons

you suspected she knew exactly what she wanted in the bedroom, and if you were completely honest with yourself, she was really just waiting on you to catch up

whenever you give yourself the chance to think about it, you really begin to appreciate just how considerate Lena is, letting herself be an open book but also knowing how tragically useless you become and how you look like a deer in the headlights whenever she asks you direct questions about sex - she took care of you in this way, and for recompense, you made it your mission to take care of her

Lena Luthor is a wildcard, but for the most part, she seems more than content to have you, the most important person in her present life, to be an authority over her - National City’s most powerful woman offering you control over her and telling her when she gets to come is really, really a thrill you never could have previously imagined

needless to say you were beyond honoured and became so ridiculously soft when you realized just how much she trusted you with herself

at first, what happened in the bedroom stayed in the bedroom, but eventually and without really knowing exactly when, your games seeped beyond the confines of the bedroom and became so much more exciting

you have a little bit of a kink of fucking Lena when she’s still got most of her work clothes on, and you particularly love the image of her in her high heels and begging for you, her legs spread out and thrown over your shoulders

this is why she often seduces you in the most inappropriate places and at the least convenient time possible, and you think oftentimes you ought to punish her for her teasing

your favourite place to fuck her is her office at L-Corp; her white, minimalist furniture and her solid, pristine desk making it that much more desirable to tarnish

she was more often a good girl when you visited her at work, and you realize that perhaps time constraints and the very real possibility of having surprise meetings with people from the business world could very well have influenced your play, and you took it in stride

once, you’d come to her office after a particularly frustrating morning at work, and several enticing text messages from her later, you were on your knees with Lena’s thighs pressed against your head and her legs propped over your shoulders and on her desk

with your mouth preoccupied with being slick with the taste of Lena and your tongue slipping against her pussy, that didn’t leave much room for talking, which is arguably one of your favourite parts of fucking her

“Look at you, moaning and panting with your skirt rucked up to your waist. Whose pussy is this, baby girl?” you ask her, your voice causing delicious vibrations against her core “Yours, daddy- please-” “Are you going to be a good girl and come for me when I tell you?” “Yes, daddy, I’ll be a very good girl. I’ll do whatever you want.” “Tell me how long you’ve been waiting for me, princess. Tell me how much you’ve wanted me.” “I couldn’t concentrate all day... my second meeting was almost too much. I waited for you, and you feel so good now, daddy.” “You’ve been so good, you are so beautiful. Let me taste you, Lena. Come all over my mouth and make a mess on me.”

your second favourite part about fucking Lena with your mouth is how her legs tighten around your head and she grips your hair desperately when she rucks against you, rolling her hips until you’re licking her clean and she becomes limp after her orgasm

for the most part, however, you were content with making her scream and edging her only sometimes when you sought her out at work, simply because you secretly loved the power you felt of raising the pitch of her volume effortlessly and knowing anyone who really listened could hear the goings-on inside Lena’s office

coincidentally enough, Jess has stopped eyeing you with suspicion and disapproval whenever you arrive and has instead opted for the subtle arch of her eyebrow and the lazy lift of a hand to gesture you to Lena’s office

whenever you’re finished with Lena and part ways after your dalliances, Jess has always had her earphones in and never bothers to spare you a second glance; whether in indifference or the sheer unwillingness to look you in the eye, you’ll never know - Lena has since given her another raise and added a week of vacation, and you make it a point to bring her coffee whenever you can (which she always accepts gratefully, but with a knowing smirk)

you’ve grown accustomed to calling her pet names you have had an actual track record of resisting or thinking very little of, and you find it incredibly endearing and so very arousing when she responds to baby girl, princess, and sweetheart in casual conversation

when you’re not in play, Lena is the most doting, nurturing girlfriend, and you feel that much more inspired and resolute to play your part when she tells you wordlessly what she needs from you

it’s a whole other playing field when you’re both home and you finally have the space and the time to really get rough and dirty with each other

from the time you’ve known her, Lena has since taken a huge liking to being restrained in as many ways as she can; you think one of the greatest discoveries you made in your relationship with Lena was learning how very much into being choked she was

one night, when you were in a particularly rough mood you’d taken your necktie and scrunched it up into a small ball and asked her if she’d wanted to put it in her mouth - Lena came in almost record time when she realized she couldn’t make much sound

“No one but me can hear you anymore. Show daddy how much you want this cock, baby girl, come all over me.”

sometimes you let Lena bottom from the top, and watching her ride you and having a clear view of what pulling her hair and scratching roughly into her back does to her gives you enough vigour to love her thoroughly the entire night

you’ve learned that Lena has just as much fun being a brat as she does when you reward her, and this manifests itself during public events, galas, and places you are very well not meant to be inappropriate in

it comes in whispers when you’re alone and in low, offhanded comments thrown casually in between conversations with inconsequential party-goers that only you can hear; it comes in the featherlight touches that linger and in the blatant gripping and rubbing of your leg under a table when the risk of someone watching is so much higher

Lena knows being a bad girl in public gets her punished in the nearest bathroom; but sometimes, you make her wait for it

“You were being naughty tonight, princess.” “I know,” she says mischievously “Bad girls get punished, you know that don’t you?” “I’m sorry, daddy” she says unconvincingly

another one of your favourite views is watching Lena moan and squirm when you spank her ass - you can practically hear the wetness of her pussy with each slap, and if you were a god, you would have quite easily resisted the overwhelming feeling of desire the sounds and sensations of seeing Lena like that gave you

you are merely a mortal, however, and you never could deny yourself the aphrodisiac that was Lena on all fours pushing her ass into you, begging for you to fuck her

still, you find that with all that could be said of your compatibility and the ease in which you both seemed to meld into the roles you played in each other’s lives, your favourite part of being with Lena was being able to take care of her

for all your uselessness and awkwardness whenever clinical discussions of sex come up, you absolutely love pillowtalk with Lena, becoming the soft, mild-mannered caretaker that is your usual disposition outside of sex, and she just as much indulged you with your need to cuddle as you sought it out

you love feeling Lena in your arms; she is the most beautiful, remarkably profound woman you’ve ever had the pleasure of loving, and her steadfast trust and belief in you gave you previously unheard of inspiration and fortitude that you’ve never once known

Lena Luthor is as strong as she is soft, as trusting as she is good, and you’ll never truly fathom just how lucky you are to be the one who knows her as much as she sees all of you - Lena is so very capable of looking after herself in life, you know, but it’s the fact that she lets you that really humbles you and could very well bring you to your knees

(you love her, you love her, you love her, and somehow, you’re the one who gets to love her the way she deserves - she is the one whom you were made to love in this time of Life, and perhaps, one day you will find you’ve become worthy enough to love her for the entirety of hers)

[monotonemanday]

Our Days Divided - Mystic Messenger University AU - Chapter 2 Mistah Trust Fund Kid

Chapter 2! Just so you guys know, soon I will be posting things on a schedule. That way I’m not posting both fics at the same time and that there is consistency! All make everything easier all around as soon as I am more settle in my personal business.

Enjoy!

Cypress University was more than just a campus. Basically, the small surrounding towns and the all-encompassing city was run and operated by the board of Cypress. That’s why it was easier for the scholarship students to fill their requirements of holding part/ full-time jobs. Most of the local shop owners understood the situation and were delighted to hire the students.

Kaeli was making her way down the stone pathway in the small villa right off campus. The sun was out but the weather was not pleasant. It was very brisk and even the warm rays from the sun weren't warming her chilled face. Kaeli hated the cold but she was in high spirits and nothing was going to bum her out.

The chime of a bell rang alerting the small café of a new presence. A small corner booth was the home of two girls in neatly pressed Cypress uniforms. Sipping a caramel latte was a girl with big hazel eyes and short brown hair. She normally wore glasses when they were on campus. Her eyesight wasn’t terrible but she worked so hard looking at screens and tiny print from her assignments that her eyes appreciated the assistance. Next to her was a small bag with an apron and a nametag that read Jaehee. She had just gotten off the early morning shift at the café. Sat across from her, nose deep in a book was a girl with sun-kissed tan skin and light rose gold hair. Soft and gentle brown eyes. A perky voice broke her from her book.

“What book is it this morning, Helena?”

“Oh, Kaeli! You’re here early this morning. Actually, I’m reading a script this morning. We think that we’ve pinpointed the first show of the season that the drama department will be doing.”

“Ah, so you wanted to see what kind of a role Zen will be partaking in?” Kaeli gave the girls a snide smirk. Jaehee and Helena were avid Zen fans and they weren't great at hiding it. “I’m surprised you aren’t indulging yourself Jaehee.”

“Oh, I already read it.” Jaehee said with a subtle amount of pride. She gathered her bag and stood up. “Sorry I have to rush ladies but Mr, Corporate Heir apparently has important matters for me to attend to as VP of the business club today.”

“You sound thrilled, Miss VP.” Kaeli and Helena were giggling at their friend's disdain.

“Right, VP. Basically I’m just a glorified assistant.“ She sighed. Jaehee was incredibly grateful that she was able to attend Cypress University. Like Yoosung, she was one of the two winners of the scholarship lottery. It put a lot of pressure on her and she worked extremely hard to prove herself but she often felt like the tuition kids still treated her like a filthy commoner. She didn’t like how the scholarships conducted themselves and aside from Zen, she didn’t care much for them. “Anyway, I better get going. I’ll see you girls later at the meeting?” The two girls nodded and she was off.

“So Kaeli, Yoosung told me about your little group you’re trying to form. He was handing out invitations yesterday wasn’t he?”

“He was. That’s actually why I came to the villa early today. I’m going to catch Sam on her way to campus and give her an invitation. Helena...do you think I’m making a mistake?”

Helena was surprised at Kaeli’s self-doubt. “Kaeli what are you talking about? You’re trying to mend an unhealthy behavior. Take down years of dumb discrimination. Why do you think it would be a mistake?”

Kaeli stared out the window trying to formulate her thoughts. “I’ve been friends with Sam since diapers, but I feel like I’ve gotten so distant from her. And it’s my fault. I didn’t have Yoosung deliver her invitation because it felt irresponsible on my part. I think...I think Sam is going to take it as me showing pity towards her and her friends and that’s not true!”

“I don’t think Samantha is going to take it that way at all! She accepted me right away when you introduced us. She doesn't act ill-willed toward Yoosung even though he kind of abandoned them and even though she doesn’ t know Jihyun and Jumin I’m sure she won’t have a problem with them as well! If anything I think it’s the others that are going to take offense.”

There was no response from Kaeli. Helena checked the time on her phone and started to gather her things. “Hey, how about we ask Yoosung how they all reacted when he delivered the invitations? My first class of the day is with Yoosung. We’ll come to the meeting together, alright?”

Kaeli saw Helena’s bright smile and knew she was doing her best to cheer her up. “Sounds good. I’ll meet up with Sam and give her the invitation and one for Saeran. Have a good first class, Lena!” The two parted ways at the door feeling light-hearted once again.

Jaehee was typing away on her laptop working on one of the 11 assignments she had due at the end of the week. Sitting on the windowsill of the classroom was a tall and slender mint haired looker. His hair was quaffed at the top and its mint color made his equally mint eyes seem brighter than the sun. He had a long lens hooked to his camera and was snapping away. Jihyun Kim. Coming from a wealthy and powerful family. His father was an incredibly cold businessman, and his mother a world-famous violinist although, she had sadly passed. Incredibly handsome and insanely kind to everyone. A prominent figure amongst the tuition kids. Some would say second most prominent. First prominent was standing at the whiteboard in the front of the room. Studying it in depth. Silently. Focused beyond reason. He had broad shoulders and midnight hair that lay in quaffed sweeps. His charcoal eyes soul-piercing. Only one man on campus surpassed his looks, but he wasn’t as sought after because he was an untouchable. This handsome devil, however, was top dog. Mr. Trust Fund Kid himself, Jumin Han. Big man on campus, and he was totally oblivious to it. He didn’t understand these weird social coos and quite frankly he thought them meaningless. However, they did fascinate him.

Yoosung and Helena were sat together going over notes and starting work from the class they just had. Jumin finally spoke.

“V...I have a question.” The mint haired Jihyun nicknamed V looked up from his camera.

“Yes, my friend?”

“What does it mean to call someone a ‘man dime’?”

Yoosung choked on his own spit and tried to stifle his laughter. Jaehee had stopped typing for just a moment, rolled her eyes, and went back to work. Helena was lightly smacking Yoosung, also trying to stifle giggles. V was tickled by his old friends question. Jumin and V were best friends. Childhood friends. V was never amazed at his friend's naivety. He found it endearing.

“Isn’t a dime a form of currency?” The man at the board was still questioning.

“Yes, Jumin. People often refer to someone good looking as a dime piece. It’s most commonly a term for women.”

“I’m not quite understanding. Could you use it in context?”

“Sure! Helena is intelligent and super cute, in fact, she is a dime!” Yoosung’s cheeks were bright red and Helena gave him another light smack.

“Jumin. They call people dimes because like the currency it amounts to 10. And when you are romanticizing someone you usually rate them on a scale from 1-10. 10 being a perfect score.” V was trying to break it down analytically, trying to play to Jumin’s mind.

“Ah, so a ‘dime’ must be rare since very little people have perfect looks.”

“Well Jumin, it’s based on personal preference and it doesn’t have to just deal with looks! It’s someone with your ideal personality, appearance, heart, intelligence. Basically, someone you think is the perfect package!” Helena gave her own explanation and Jumin returned to studying the board.

“Someone like Zen.” Helena and Jaehee had both said allowed. They gave each other a smirk.

Jumin was contemplating all the information he was given and came to a conclusion. “Ah, so someone like Kaeli, would be a ‘dime piece.’“

“Jumin Han!!” The whole room was startled by the high pitched voice. They turned to see Kaeli standing in the doorway. “Who taught you something like that?!”

“He had heard some girls in the hallway refer to him as a ‘man dime’ and he was just asking me what it had meant.” V was back to taking photographs already, not even looking at Kaeli as he responded.

Kaeli closed her eyes and shook her head. She always walked in on something like this. She stared at the whiteboard. “What on earth?”

“We begged him not to.” “We really did.” Yoosung and Helena rested their elbows on the table they were sitting at.

On the board, Kaeli observed what Jumin had been studying for what the group told her was the past 30 minutes.

An intricate map was pieced together on the whiteboard. Pictures of 5 individuals with different stats listed, all pieced together by different red lines.

“It’s his map on the untouchables.” Jaehee inserted without leaving her work.

“Well take it down! They aren’t criminals. Do you think they are spending their time tastelessly analyzing you guys?” Kaeli was furious. They were playing right into their own stereotype and she hated it.

“We don’t know if they aren’t criminals. His research wasn’t that in depth.”

“Jaehee, you seem really hostile towards this people. Well other than Zen. Is there any specific reason?” V’s voice was laced with concern as this was extremely out of character for Jaehee.

“I just...I don’t appreciate their attitudes. And I suppose it’s not necessarily these individuals. But they act so entitled! They think just because they have these talents they are gods among men. Just like these tuition students who think they can’t be bothered or criticized just because they’re wealthy and have powerful families! I’m not a tuition student but I also didn’t get in because I could play the piano or paint the next masterpiece. I work so hard and I still don’t belong anywhere!” Jaehee’s hands were balled into fists on the table. She was biting her lip and staring downward. She was embarrassed. She couldn’t believe she had acted like this in front of the group. She had just become so overwhelmed.

“Jaehee, let’s go for a walk.” Helena was gently rubbing Jaehee’s back and Yoosung was gathering her things for her. Three quietly left the classroom. Kaeli giving Jaehee a comforting squeeze of the bicep. She let out her breath and then once again channeled her anger.

“Jumin. Get rid of it.”

“Kaeli, I apologize if this has offended you it wasn’t my intention to be disrespectful.” Jumin had never sounded this ashamed in one of his little projects. He began to remove the things from the board when his old friend stopped him.

“To be fair to Jumin, I really think you should have him explain his research here Kaeli.”

“To me, V, it looks like a witch hunt.”

“Kaeli, please let him explain.” V pleaded with the small blonde and she nodded her head in agreement taking a seat and looking straight ahead as a signal for Jumin to start his presentation.

“Very well. Now Jaehee wasn’t entirely wrong in her sudden outburst. Many people can sing, dance, act, and say, use computers better than others. So I was wondering, what made these particular students so special. All of the scholarship students have to be exceptional in their fields to be accepted here at Cypress, but these students, are a cut above the rest. Just like ourselves. Tuition kids that contribute more than just money. My research was to pinpoint what is so impressive about them.”

“Just take a look at it. I know we didn’t get much done but we actually have to head out. We’ll see you tomorrow madam president.” Jumin and V made there way out of the room.

Kaeli walked up to the board and looked over the stats Jumin had listed. Among her scanning, she couldn’t help but giggle at Jumin’s personal footnotes he also added.

Hyun Ryu AKA Zen Most handsome man on campus (Jumin second most? V?) Talented actor, singer, dancer First Cypress student being paid to do professional theatre Second highest score in the school's history for literature (First belongs to Helena) Has published 12 screenplays that have been sold to theatre companies Won large amount of awards for BMX (Currently just rides a motorcycle - ladies enjoy this? Will ask Jaehee about this)

Liz Paradise Dancer and acrobat Multiple awards for dance competitions Cirque performer. Well versed in aerial silks, high wire, tumbling, aerial hoop, Spanish web, trapeze Top scorer in Foreign affairs Possible royalty??? (Needs further research) New discovery: Possibly a ‘dime’ (needs confirmation from others)

Saeyoung Choi Extremely above average intelligence Tied top score for all tech related exams Specializes in Hacking, Coding, and Programming Started Robotics Lab at Cypress Can seduce women as well as Zen. (Something about good looks but also a ‘quirky sense of humor’ Will speak with Yoosung) Second highest score in the school's history on the Cypress Physical trial

Saeran Choi Extremely above average intelligence Tied top score for all tech related exams Specializes in Hacking, Coding, and Programming Handles all tech and special effects for theatre Head snare drum in all Cypress ensembles President of the botany club (research in plants and medical science doing extremely well) Ladies like him because he is ‘cold’ and ‘mysterious’ (this is apparently not considered creepy???)

Samantha Dae First highest score in the school's history on the Cypress Physical trial (Beating out the redhead) Drum Major and student conductor for all Cypress ensembles Exceptional Piano player Well versed in multiple brass instruments Superb vocals (active in theatre, musical theatre, and vocal ensembles) Composed and sold 16 original orchestral pieces Performed at Carnegie Hall at the age of 13 New discovery: Another possible ‘dime’ (confirmed by my standards but will have to discuss with others)

Kaeli turned off the lights and locked the door of the classroom behind her.

“This...this is going to work.”

[dweemeister]

Ready Player One (2018)

On a recent episode of CBS Sunday Morning, author Ernest Cline attributed his debut novel’s success as, “a testament to what happens if you be free about what you love and why you love it.” That novel, filled with 1970s and 1980s pop culture, is Ready Player One, now directed by Steven Spielberg (who, arguably, defined cinema in those decades), co-adapted to the screen by Cline and Zak Penn, and retaining the ideas Cline sought to express. After a run of topical dramas, this is Spielberg’s first legitimately “fun movie” since 2011′s The Adventures of Tintin (as much as I liked 2016′s The BFG, it is tonally scattered). Jaws (1975) and Jurassic Park (1993) scared the pants off of sensitive viewers; E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) and Hook (1991) reached into childhood fears amid the entertainment. But of all of Spielberg’s “fun movies”, Ready Player One is the only one that is pure spectacle. Its nostalgia there for show, almost never in service of whatever themes the film happens to stumble upon. This pure spectacle is a fleeting, flashy thrill and little else – take the jump, because despite its weaknesses, there is no film analogous to Ready Player One.

It is 2045 and humans are addicted to the virtual reality world of OASIS. OASIS was designed by co-creators James Halliday (Mark Rylance; whose eccentric character has been deceased for some time) and Ogden Morrow (Simon Pegg; who left the developing company before OASIS became so widespread), who hid an Easter egg requiring three keys within his game. The Easter egg promises the winner ownership of OASIS. Living in a multi-tiered trailer park in Columbus, Ohio, is the orphaned Wade Watts (Tye Sheridan), whose OASIS username is Parzival. He befriends one of the game’s best players, Art3mis (the avatar of Samantha Cook, played by Olivia Cooke) on his way to acquire Halliday’s three keys and unearth the game’s deepest secrets that millions have tried to solve. Faster than Wade can tell Samantha, “I wanna be your lover”, she rebuffs his requests to meet her in person because she fears that he will not like the real her.

Everybody wants to rule the world. One corporation, Innovative Online Industries (IOI), has essentially dedicated itself thousands of employees to find the Easter egg to gain full control of OASIS. The CEO of IOI is Nolan Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn), and he finds himself in conflict with Tye’s friends – who name themselves the “High Five”. The High Five will also include (actual name/username): Helen/Aech (Lena Waithe), Zhou/Sho (Philip Zhao), and Toshiro/Daito (Win Morisaki).

One could spend much longer explaining the world inhabited by the characters, but Ready Player One is up to the challenge of excessive exposition as Penn and Cline’s screenplay spend about twenty minutes with Wade explaining what has happened to 2045 Earth (or, at least, Columbus). The screenplay also refuses to grasp any of the implications of the dystopia it presents – having not read the book, my hope is that Cline does examine those social aspects more. How did the widespread disillusionment in real life that, apparently, the whole world (?) is connected to OASIS come to be? Aren’t humans, even those who believe they have no power, more resilient than that? How can an enormous conglomerate be able to have what basically is a paramilitary that engages in domestic terrorism (police forces exist, if the ending is any indication, so do cops work one day a week or something in 2045)? Given trends in gaming today, are there microtransactions or something similar in the OASIS that creates a class structure replicating itself in the real world and allowing for certain in-game or real-life advantages by class?

Maybe it is just my imagination running away with me, but why the hell are all the best players in the world living in Columbus, Ohio?

One way or another, enduring science-fiction asks questions of its characters’ humanity and dares the reader or viewer to understand, question, and improve their own being. In cinema, Metropolis (1927, Germany) comments on class power struggles and how society is impoverished with a permanent working class; Planet of the Apes (1968) is a sharp allegory of religious and scientific tensions; A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) asks if a synthetic being programmed to simulate love can feel love. Ready Player One’s stake in cinema’s science-fiction tradition is not as weighty as those films, but there are pressing thoughts to be gleamed from the film.

The movie presents fandom that is corporatized, excessive, or taken in moderation, as well as providing an environment of pandemic video game addiction (now a disorder recognized by the World Health Organization). On corporatized fandom, Ready Player One presents audiences with IOI – a combination of video gaming as sweatshop work and individuals whose job it is to know everything about twentieth-century cinematic (I might be a decent candidate in this department but turning it into soul-sucking work is too depressing to think about), comic book, and video gaming culture. Something like IOI is laughable now, but the film stands on it, so perhaps we will not be laughing if something resembling it emerges in the decades to come.

Regarding excessive fan culture, one could argue the whole conception of OASIS is a monument to one man’s uninhibited obsession with elements of pop culture. Ready Player One – at least in this adaptation – is unwilling to examine how damaging one’s fandom, when taken to extremes, can be (the throwaway epilogue in the film’s final frames is not enough). Outside of Halliday’s story, how does one’s fixation on video games or movies or other art forms make actual life easier or more difficult? The epilogue’s reveal that Wade and Samantha no longer log into the OASIS every day makes one wonder how prepared they are to go without a virtual reality where they have essentially lived their lives. Perhaps that latter point belongs to a different movie or the fan-fiction writing corners of the Internet, but the fact that Ready Player One only superficially touches upon these points adds little else to this reference-heavy movie.

What non-readers of Ready Player One may have noticed is the presence of so many popular movie and video game characters. One begins to wonder about how much money was spent on licensing. Many detractors of Ready Player One, who aren’t gonna take it, have commented on how some of the references in the film are shallow, disrespectful of the original source materials. These critiques are mostly beside the point. Take the Iron Giant. The Iron Giant appears as Helen’s avatar in the climactic battle as she/it proceeds to punch the stuffing out of IOI’s mechanized tanks and Mechagodzilla. This goes against the character’s essence: that it will only use violence in cases of self-defense. True, but this is an Internet avatar and the OASIS not necessarily a strict role-playing environment.

Nevertheless, one’s personal sense of fandom always has some degree of appropriation. Understanding a person’s passions and the origin of those passions make for incredible emotional connections that can barely be described. Where Cline’s passion for largely 1970s and ‘80s popular culture is apparent, what about his characters? Halliday is a human compendium of knowledge and trivia of that period – its movies, television, video games, anime, comics, and more. But why does he love those things implemented into OASIS? Why is Wade’s ride a DeLorean? Is it because he identifies with Marty McFly from the Back to the Future series? Artemis has the motorcycle from Katsuhiro Otomo’s Akira (1988)? Is she an enormous anime fan, and is Akira a personal favorite anime film? Spielberg, Penn, and Cline need not have crafted indulgent soliloquies for every reference, but the audience is bereft of understanding why these references from these past works appeal so much to Ready Player One’s characters. It does not help that the romantic kindling between Sheridan and Cooke (as Samantha, she is very much ashamed of a sizable birthmark… thankfully, not to Phantom of the Opera levels of shame) is iffy at best.

The BFG was the motion-capture dress rehearsal for Ready Player One. Almost everything that occurs in the OASIS was shot using motion capture – a process that is similar to regular film shooting for actors but is more demanding for visual effects teams. The results produced by these hundreds of visual effects artists for Ready Player One are commendable, but Spielberg regulars cinematographer Janusz Kamiński and editors Michael Kahn and Sarah Broshar (not a Spielberg regular, but co-editor of 2017′s The Post) are more at ease in the non-OASIS scenes in how they use lighting to evoke the decrepit nature of Wade’s neighborhood. Production designer Adam Stockhausen (Wes Anderson’s primary production designer since 2012′s Moonrise Kingdom) makes these towers of trailer homes feel lived in and not soundstage-bound or CGI’d into the film. Contrast that with the sleek, ultramodern headquarters of IOI – which somewhat recalls the aesthetic in the Tron series.

This is only the fourth Spielberg movie not to be scored by John Williams, who withdrew from the project after scheduling conflicts with his work for Dear Basketball (2017), The Post, and Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017). So in comes Alan Silvestri (1994′s Forrest Gump, 2012′s The Avengers), who worked with Spielberg when the latter served as producer on Back to the Future. Outside of the musical quotations Silvestri uses from Back to the Future and other films, his score successfully recalls the orchestral adventurism of 1980s action movies. Several are interspersed throughout, with the most commonly-used motifs – for Wade and Halliday, respectively – incorporated into the main titles. Lushly orchestrated and allowing strings, woodwinds, and brass jumping into the action-packed or romantic frays of the plot, Silvestri’s score is weakest when the cameras are inside IOI’s headquarters and the electronic elements reminiscent of a Marvel movie do little even to increase suspense.

Separate from the score is a ‘70s/’80s soundtrack that many viewers will be familiar with. A dance sequence using the Bee Gees’ “Stayin’ Alive” echoes John Travolta’s moves in Saturday Night Fever (1977). Many other songs are included in the soundtrack, but they have already been name-dropped in this review to prove a larger point (ahem).

Having already criticized Ready Player One for its insubstantial callbacks, I may be guilty of shameful hypocrisy because of this paragraph. One musical omission that defined Ready Player One’s marketing campaign should have been implemented into the film. “Pure Imagination”, composed by Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley for Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971), played an important part in setting the tone for Ready Player One’s trailers. Whether integrated into the score or soundtrack, “Pure Imagination” is a widely-known song even to audiences who consider older movies not worth their time. I see Willy Wonka and Ready Player One as distant cousins: a young character embarks on an exhilarating, occasionally dangerous, adventure and – through their actions – will become the loving custodian of another person’s fantastical dream. Such a decision would not be unprecedented in a Spielberg movie. In Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977), John Williams used “When You Wish Upon a Star” from Pinocchio (1940) in his score to underline the interstellar optimism and childlike wonderment in both films. Ready Player One never has a moment like that – where the film can make sense and explore the emotions behind what pieces of popular culture enabled the creation of the OASIS.

If this review seems like poop in the punch bowl, that is not my intention. As a self-identified nerd who shuns nerd culture, I enjoyed Ready Player One and got a kick out of identifying the movie and video game characters my eyes could catch in time – I had fun, and that is important in watching movies. If Ready Player One is nothing more than a celebration of how our popular culture tastes makes us who we are, then that is fine. Yet it never asks where such love comes from because that is the most exciting thing we can ever learn about another person.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.

[manuscripts-dontburn]

The Secret of the Rosary

Author: Louis de Montfort

First published: 1710

Pages: 148

Rating: ★★★★☆

I was genuinely surprised at how interesting I found this little book. As a Christian tentatively researching the various Churches I found it very informative. Certainly, the rosary and the Marian devotion of the Catholics (and the Russian Orthodox) are among the most controversial questions when it comes to Christian teachings of different denominations and this book explains the Catholic point of view extremely well, including short stories to illustrate the belief in the power of Mary and the prayer of the rosary (some of those stories are inspiring, some actually sound ridiculous, but I enjoyed them still, much as I would enjoy any storybook). I also found it interesting from the historical point of view, especially the fervent advocacy of indulgences, which, from what I understand, have been altered and are no longer propagated in the same way as they once were. Definitely a good study book for anyone interested in the subject, whether or not you are a Catholic.

How We Disappeared

Author: Jing-Jing Lee

First published: 2019

Pages: 352

Rating: ★★★★☆

Painful, horrifying and yet beautifully written book. A reminder of hurt and crimes we Europeans hardly ever hear about. A story of endurance, of cruelty which is both extraordinary and common, a story of trying to cope and searching for absolution, which may and may not ever come.

The Jungle Book

Author: Rudyard Kipling

First published: 1994

Pages: 256

Rating: ★★★★☆

I was surprised at how much I enjoyed this book. I need to take off a star simply for a few "casual" racist remarks and the way disability is treated in the first three stories, but I do think the beauty of language, the passion for nature and even raw brutality tied to the animal kingdom were captured wonderfully.

Le Boule De Suif and other stories

Author: Guy de Maupassant

First published: 1880

Pages: 224

Rating: ★★★★☆

A collection of short stories set in the second half of the 19th century in France, all of which touched my emotions and moved me - to humour, to pity, to disgust - but ultimately none had a satisfying ending. They were all very life-like in that respect, but still, left me a hungry reader.

The Kite Runner

Author: Khaled Hosseini

First published: 2003

Pages: 352

Rating: ★★★★☆

Another book that hurt my heart.

Thames: Sacred River

Edited by: Peter Ackroyd

First published: 2007

Pages: 512

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Even as somebody very much interested in the topic I have now read more than I cared to read. This book is monumental and exhaustive when it comes to facts and details, it is also well written, but the sheer amount of information makes it feel like a chore. I have retained very little and skimmed over some of the pages simply because they were little more than lists of names. Impressive but tiring.

Lost Roses

Author: Martha Hall Kelly

First published: 2019

Pages: 464

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Read this book if you like bad writing, dull narratives, you are completely ignorant about Russian history and wish to remain so. Seriously, this was my second try with Martha Hall Kelly and it is also where we part ways forever. I do not have the patience or strength enough to go through another of her books. Others have pointed out her outlandish, unbelievable and convoluted storytelling, I absolutely need to underline her disrespect for the well-documented characters and criminal laziness when it comes to historical research. By her own admission, this "research" when it came to the Russian parts of the book consisted of two weeks holidaying in St. Petersburg, trying vodka and caviar, and asking two tour guides some questions. I dare say she read a few Wikipedia pages, but that is all. This woman did not even bother to use Russian names correctly, and let me not start at her disregard to realities of life in Imperial Russia, both of the nobility and the common people. Heck, she even uses "Imperial" and "royal" as synonyms. Her treatment of the monumental events of the Russian revolution(s) and Civil war is dreadful, uninsightful and completely shallow. You do not need to be like me (14 years of research into the Romanovs and three university-awarded diploma theses on their relationship with Victorian Britain, their educational system and religious beliefs) to not write such bullshit as this book consists of. This is merely an American writing a dull and convoluted story set in countries she knows nothing about, the culture she doesn't understand in the slightest, includes people and their conflict which she trivializes and on the whole, does not care about your intelligence.

Concrete Rose

Author: Angie Thomas

First published: 2021

Pages: 360

Rating: ★★★★☆

Concrete Rose works wonderfully as a prequel but could stand solid on its own as well. The family dynamics and the character of Maverick were both important factors that made The Hate U Give the remarkable book it was. Seeing this very character growing up and learning to own up to situations that could easily break any of us was fascinating. You truly feel for him, but at the same time want to shout at him to open his eyes to reality and see the larger picture. I had some trouble getting into the book simply because I am not an American (or English native speaker) and the informal and specific language used by Maverick is not the one I have studied at school, but I got used to it eventually. I also felt that perhaps the conflict lacked the strength a little, especially compared to The Hate U Give. All in all, however, Angie Thomas has done it again.

Katya and the Prince of Siam

Author: Narisa Chakrabongse

First published: 2011

Pages: 320

Rating: ★★★★☆

Supremely interesting and a wonderful, accessible introduction into another part of the history I have previously known nothing about.

The Mists of Avalon

Author: Marion Zimmer Bradley

First published: 1982

Pages: 884

Rating: ★★★★☆

This is an impressive retelling of a legend that is so very well known it is quite a feat to present it in a way that has both surprises and thrill. The politics and the battle of religions, both of which prove to be in the hands of obstinate and hateful people seeking only their right is cleverly chosen as the main conflict. I must say, however, that sex-obsessed paganism did not seem much better than the sex-less Christianity in this book. The tolerance, with which the religion of the Goddess begins very quickly disappears and Morgaine and her followers very soon become as fanatical and unforgiving as their Christian enemies. It goes to show how our beliefs can be short-sighted no matter the lofty ideas they are based on. On the negative side, the novel is a mammoth undertaking, very quickly I had to switch to an audiobook (which was excellent), otherwise, I would be reading it for the next three months at least. Some of the arguments and conflicts the characters have over and over again (sometimes word for word), to the point of being annoying too. Be prepared to like nobody and watch an epic tragedy unfold.

The Invention of Murder: How the Victorians Revelled in Death and Detection and Created Modern Crime

Author: Judith Flanders

First published: 2011

Pages: 556

Rating: ★★★★★

It is amazing how different and yet still the same people have always been throughout centuries. This is that kind of book which entertains yet gives testament to human viciousness as well as morbid curiosity. The reader is introduced to some truly grisly murders and then shown how these very cases influenced the culture (especially books, newspapers and theatre) and through it the way everything connected to it was seen at one point in time. I begrudge the book spoiling some classics I have not yet read, but other than that I found myself fascinated and flew through this book quickly. Finding out I am no better when it comes to the fascination with a murder that is far away and non-threatening to me than any common Victorian.

Worlds of Ink and Shadow

Author: Lena Coakley

First published: 2016

Pages: 352

Rating: ★★★★★

You know what, maybe I will change the rating later, but right now, at this very moment, remembering simply how much I enjoyed this reading experience, I am giving this 5 stars. I flew through this and marvelled at both the author´s imagination, the accuracy of her research and especially how well she pays tribute to the Brontës. The way she portrays them is very similar to how I came to know them through nonfiction literature and their works. It is marvellous to me how she does not play favourites with any of them - something very few people manage (I myself have always been partial to Charlotte for example). But she does it. She shows the point of view and feelings and flaws of all of them. The family dynamics is well captured too. I liked this book a lot. It is that simple. Perhaps that is all one needs to rate it so very high.

[jillmckenzie1]

A Hollywood Fairy Tale

When Quentin Tarantino’s debut feature Reservoir Dogs was released in 1992, the American film industry was in crisis. Cracks were appearing in the star system. Mainstream films were flopping at the box office. Audiences wanted something, anything new, and Hollywood didn’t know what to give them. For a moment, there was a window for Tarantino to pass through. Along with independent filmmakers like Steven Soderbergh, Paul Thomas Anderson and others, he irrevocably changed movies and culture.

But 1992 was a long time ago. Sure, Tarantino was a big swinging dick—still is to a degree. He’s one of the vanishingly few filmmakers who can basically do whatever he wants, one of the few that actors will crawl through broken glass to work with. When he writes a screenplay, directs a scene, and his name appears in the credits, people pay attention. Only not in the way they used to.

That’s the way of things, isn’t it? We do what we do. With a little luck, we’re good at it, or at least we’re in a profession we don’t despise. As time passes, it can seem that the world passes us by. To deal with it, we look back on better years and better times and immerse ourselves in nostalgia. Nobody ever said any of that would be easy.

As of this writing, Quentin Tarantino is 56 years old. He’s survived in a film industry that’s changing again. How does he feel looking at the landscape? Seeing media juggernauts like Disney dominate the box office, knowing that fewer people are willing to even go to movie theaters, understanding that the specific passions he has are slowly becoming irrelevant. He does what nearly all of us do. He casts his eyes to the past, and his ninth film* Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood bears that out.

As in every year, things change. Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) is very aware of that change. He’s a television star on the popular Western Bounty Law—or, at least he used to be. Rick is getting older. The parts he used to be offered, the heroic lead, are drying up. Now, he’s playing lots of villains. He’s well on his way to becoming an alcoholic. Big-shot agent Marvin Schwarzs (Al Pacino) thinks Rick needs to head for Italy and a new career as a spaghetti Western star.

Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt) is aware of the change. For years, he’s worked as Rick’s stunt double. Need a guy to fall off a horse, get punched, or fly through a window? Cliff can do it. He’s also Rick’s best friend and gofer. Need a guy to fix the rooftop TV antenna or perform taxi service? Cliff can do it. There’s a darkness in Cliff’s eyes, something that gets him on the wrong side of people, and a nagging rumor about his past that won’t go away. That all makes him a little reckless, so much so that he might even take a poke at the legendary Bruce Lee (Mike Moh).

Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie) is thrilled by the change. She’s Rick’s next-door neighbor, and she’s spent years climbing the Hollywood mountain, performing in some less than memorable projects. But she’s in The Wrecking Crew, co-starring with Dean Martin, of all people! As a klutzy spy, audiences love her, and this could be the moment that she becomes a major star. As far as she can tell, she’s on her way to a memorable career.

While some ride the waves of change, others wait for their moment to blow it all apart. At the isolated Spahn Movie Ranch, plans are being made to do just that. A group of hippies has exploited the kindness and senility of George Spahn (Bruce Dern). Their energy is all over the map, and we can feel the seething anger of Squeaky (Dakota Fanning), the paranoia of Gypsy (Lena Dunham) and the resentment of Tex (Austin Butler). On their own, they’re harmless. Their leader Charlie (Damon Herriman) knows that if their energies can be properly channeled, they can change the world.

Based on what I’ve told you, you might think that Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood is either an elegiac meditation on the Good Old Days of Hollywood or tragedy porn about the Manson Family murders.** It’s neither of those things. Tarantino has directed a fairy tale exploding with life and energy. It doesn’t have a plot as such. Instead, it’s a hangout movie about a time, a place, and the specific people trying to navigate it. While the film is long as hell and meanders, Tarantino still has it when it counts. Just when you feel like the pacing has slowed to a glacial crawl, he’ll throw in a line, a moment, or a sequence that immediately engages. A scene with Brad Pitt at the Spahn Movie Ranch has a quiet unease that is masterfully stretched to nearly the breaking point. OUATIH doesn’t have the diamond-hard edges of Pulp Fiction or the rampaging energy of Inglourious Basterds, but a director of Tarantino’s caliber simply doesn’t make bad films.

The same goes for his script, though there’s a controversy attached that we’ll discuss momentarily. This is the first film Tarantino has made that has the perspective of an older man. It’s marinating in nostalgia, despite the fact that Tarantino would have been around six years old at the time the film takes place. It doesn’t matter, because this era of film and cultural history has always been the closest to Tarantino’s heart. He’s always loved high art and trash cinema smashed together, and that love is why we have long, long scenes of characters watching/commenting on period-appropriate TV, movies, commercials, and other pop culture ephemera. In this case, Tarantino simply couldn’t kill his babies.

Remember the controversy I mentioned? There’s been a great deal of agita lately about the number of lines Margot Robbie was given and about what it means in the larger cultural conversation.*** The case has been made that the film is sexist since male characters are constantly explaining Sharon Tate’s life and what she means, whereas she rarely has a moment to advocate for herself. While I take their point, I think it runs into a noticeable trend these days. Too often, instead of engaging honestly with art, folks will come to it with their own preconceived notions and expectations. If the artwork doesn’t fit into a certain framework, it becomes problematic. The way I read it, the film is Rick and Cliff’s story. Robbie’s Tate is meant to be a juxtaposition of DiCaprio’s Rick Dalton. As her star rises, his falls.

Tarantino also excels at coaxing outstanding performances out of his cast. As the needy and pathetic Rick, DiCaprio does career-best work. He’s completely free of vanity, and he owns the wistfulness that we often get when we’ve gotten older and worry that this is as good as it will ever get. His chemistry is excellent with the laconic Brad Pitt. Pitt has never gotten the credit he deserves for being an outstanding actor. He makes it look so easy, and he plays Cliff as a guy who’s not a psychopath, but certainly seems psychopath-adjacent. Margot Robbie is one of the best in the business, and her performance as Sharon Tate is luminous. Watch the scene where she watches herself in the movie theater and the delight that washes over her face. She’s immensely likable and seeing her pregnant in August of 1969 created some serious anxiety.

Not everyone will enjoy Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood, particularly the ending. I understand the perspective of those who are done with Quentin Tarantino and his schtick. His time may very well have passed. The fact remains that, while it’s not his best film, it’s a work of art. For at least a little while longer, he’s a vibrant and dynamic filmmaker who’s made a film that’s complex, self-indulgent, and powerful.

  *I know, if you look at his filmography, there are clearly 10 films just sitting there. To explain, Tarantino shot Kill Bill intending it to be a three-plus hour epic and was forced to cut it into two movies.

**Sharon Tate, Abigail Folger, Jay Sebring, Wojciech Frykowski, and Tate’s unborn child were murdered on August 9, 1969. OUATIH was originally scheduled to be released on August 9 of this year. Officially, the studio claims the release date was changed to give the film a chance to compete in a crowded marketplace. I like to think that someone at Sony said, “Um…guys? Is this a date we really want to commemorate?”

***You can read more about it in this exceptionally well-written article that I disagree pretty strongly with. Is there problematic art? Sure. Is Tarantino a racist or a misogynist? I don’t think so, because there’s a massive gulf between being provocative and being hateful. Let’s remember that we all read art differently, and it’s important to consider the artist’s intent.

from Blog https://ondenver.com/a-hollywood-fairy-tale/

[supergirlimaginesfic-blog]

Lena Luthor x reader (Preventative measures, and one welcome threat)

a/n: no one asked for this one either but... I’m gonna do the thing anyway just because, and I thought about how absolutely dumb it would be if you were this cool, unflappable bodyguard but you’d become profoundly useless the moment you saw Lena put her hair down or like, do something vaguely hot and you’d just... become totally non-functioning LOL

Anyway I’m a trash person and I have trash ideas so here’s the trash thing! It’s not all that serious, I wanted it to be all fun and giggles lmao. This is really indulgent and like, six different levels of unprofessional but then I realized THIS IS FIC WE CAN DO WHATEVER WE WANT Y’ALL!!! YAY!! it’s a little shorter and I think I can get away with making another part for it. Moreover though, I think Lena has had too many bouts with death and TBH I think she should just get a break dammit! Don’t we deserve better than that? Maybe we do... ;)

- - - - -

You would never really consider yourself a storyteller, but you’re beginning to understand that’s just what you’ve become. For all the questions people ask about your job, you have just as many anecdotes that for some reason, people find just absolutely fascinating.

Yours is a humble beginning - no, you didn’t always want to be a personal bodyguard. No, you didn’t go to school for it. Yes, like most things that have occurred in your life, opportunities presented themselves and you took the chance.

In fact, when you were five years old you were convinced you were going to be an astronaut when you grew up... or a dog-walker. You certainly did not think you’d be someone who was hired for the sole purpose of protecting vaguely important people you really had no idea about, nor could care to know about.

The job, you’ve realized in your own personal experiences, is a whole lot of rich people travelling around to gamble or to partake in other high-risk trade-offs, and still, you always think no one should have any right to carry around that much money, let alone own that much at all to warrant needing personal security in the form of another human being.

Still, it pays itself, and you couldn’t find yourself complaining heartily about the injustices of the wealthy elite and their various extravagances when you’ve made a comfortable life for yourself out of their paranoia.

As it was, you find yourself waking up at 5 in the morning for some ungodly reason you will never get used to - you know a good portion of your colleagues live for the thrill of going for a run in the early hours of the morning, rising before the sun and riding the high of productivity that a mere mortal civilian could never appreciate.

Perhaps, you think, that this logic made a mere mortal civilian out of you since you’ve pressed the snooze on your alarm five times and you’ve finally, but forcefully, shoved yourself out of your bed and onto your floor a good hour and a half later than you were ideally supposed to get up.

Still, even with your eternal vexation of having to be an early riser, you wake up significantly quicker than you think you would, and you give yourself credit for it everyday.

Your next assignment, you’ve been informed, is not necessarily a direct request - rather, you’ve been hired on behalf of someone else, which isn’t uncommon. You’ve yet to find out if your presence will be a surprise to your actual client in question, but that’s a problem for later, and that’s what your superiors are for.

You’re an armed bodyguard, and you’ll be working full-time which means you’ll be with your client for however long you’re required, and you’ll be sticking around them 24/7.

With your duffle bag already packed and your suits cleaned and pressed, you make your way into your Range Rover after you’ve made sure that your gun and your knife are both in their holsters hidden under your suit before you set off for the address that’s been sent to your phone.

For someone with rather impressive credentials and an even more eclectic resume of personalities you’ve been hired for, you’re still a little bit shocked when you discover yet another secret branch of the government - this time, you’ve been hired by an organization called the “DEO”, and you wonder just who exactly you’re supposed to be watching if every one of these agents is allegedly specially trained.

You’ve already been screened, processed, and vetted by the organization before they even considered hiring you through your company, who in their part were rather amenable to whatever the DEO wanted to do with you considering the hefty paycheck they were offering for your services.

Even still, you brandish your ID, your driver’s licence, and even your passport to the guards standing at the door, and watch as four guards examine your weapons, and two separate guards frisk your person for any other hidden contraband.

You take all your IDs out again for the people at the desk, and finally you’re escorted into a conference room lined with what you’re sure is a one-way mirror on all the walls where you’re sat across a tall black man with an inscrutable face.

He’s got your file on the table in front of him and he only glances down for a moment before he stares at you silently.

You stare back sitting perfectly still and relaxed in your chair and recognize the tactic for what it is. You don’t break eye contact with him as you wait for him to say something.

After what is seemingly a mildly uncomfortable amount of time to be silently staring at a stranger, the man speaks up and addresses you by name.

You nod your head in recognition and then he says, “Welcome to the DEO.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’m sure you understand, the entire process is lengthy but it is to ensure the utmost safety not just for our client but for yourself as well.”

“That’s understandable.”

“You may have also noted we’ve plenty of adequately trained agents here who would be more than qualified to do your job, but this is a matter of subtlety and we’ve thought it best to outsource a security detail rather than risk one of our agents for this particular duty.”

You nod again in acknowledgement - in its own variably twisted way, you’ve become used to being expendable, but that’s where the matter of you having to be good at your job comes in, so that you’re not expended.

After the brief conversation, if you would even call it that, the man stands up and approaches you with a hand outstretched, and you meet him halfway. He gives you a firm handshake and he passes a small, folded up piece of paper into your hand as he does so, and you ball your hand into a fist, not blinking at the exchange.

He sends you off and you realize you don’t know his name, but you suppose you don’t really need to know, and this time you don’t need to be escorted and you retrieve your belongings as you leave.

When you get back to your car, you unfold the paper and see just a singular thing written on it and you raise your eyebrows slightly at the sight. You rarely allow yourself personal opinions regarding your jobs, but you can’t help the anticipation and the wonder in your mind as you consider your new client.

You’re not exactly surprised, but your curiosity is getting the better of you gradually. You drive towards downtown with the tune of some Little Mix song stuck in your head for absolutely no definitive reason at all that you can think of apart from it just being a really damn catchy song, and you hum Black Magic quietly to yourself until you see the infamous “L” on your target building.

You grab your own files and make your way inside the building once you’ve parked in their lot, your eyes squinting minutely in scrutiny at the evident lack of security in the lobby, and the only person around to question you is a guard doubling as a receptionist.

You sign your name on the list and hand the guard your ID as she examines your signature before allowing you to go through, not at all bothering to check anything else of you.

You figure you have to go to the top floor, so you wait in the elevator as it takes you up. When you get out, you scan the floor quickly before you make your way toward the desk.

The secretary glances up at you and double-takes as if trying to determine your face. She furrows her eyebrows and you take the distraction to read the gold-plated name plate on her desk that says “Jessica”.

You look back to her and you watch as her eyes blatantly trail up and down your figure, not once but twice, and her expression is otherwise unreadable apart from the slight quirk of her eyebrow when her gaze lands back on your face.

She’s silent for a moment before she speaks up, “Ms. Luthor requires an appointment ahead of time, which is usually within a week or two depending on the urgency of the matter.”

You feel the scrutiny of her gaze again as her eyes trail over you again, and you clear your throat when you remember you’re supposed to say something.

“Right, of course. I guess it should be expected that my arrival is a bit of a surprise, sorry, here-” you say, as you reach for your business card, your official letter from your company, as well as your contract with redacted names of the DEO’s involvement and your ID.

You place them all onto her desk and she regards them with a look you know is pretty much universal of and who do you think you are exactly?, which is usually only ever present at the tail end of the sentiment that begs the question what nerve?

Her eyes never leave yours as she reaches for your papers, her eagle-eyed watch on you shifting with expressions of doubt and disbelief as she finally looks down and reads for a moment, taking note of the official stamps and signatures on your papers as she looks at your ID. Eventually, she puts it on her photocopier and waits.

“These mean nothing,” she says.

Despite yourself, you smile widely at the observation as she continues.

“These could all be fake, but at least I’ll have a copy of your alleged identity.”

You reply, still grinning, “I assure you, that’s the least of my intentions, but I commend your diligence.”

She squints her eyes at you and the printer continues humming, obtrusively loud given the near dead-silence of the room apart from the printer. You see her jaw tick and she tilts her head imperceptibly, you know this as a slight act of defense.

“I’m not paid to trust anyone.”

You almost laugh, catching yourself before you do, and you just smile at her show of tenacity.

“I guess you and I have that in common then,” is all you say.

For what it’s worth, you think this secretary, Jess, is more than enough to make up for the lack of security downstairs. If you were a weaker person, you knew you’d crumble under her interrogative stare.

She merely hums in dissent as the copying finally finishes and she hands back your original, not before demanding you to sign and date her copy of your ID.

“Don’t think you can just walk in here and pretend to be some third-party hire, I’m not stupid and Ms. Luthor certainly isn’t either - you’re not the only person with the lame, trite idea to do so,” she stares you down meaningfully and waits a moment to see that you’re still following.

She gestures vaguely to the space around her, “there are cameras in every nook and cranny of these offices you’re not aware of, and they will be used as proof to corroborate any shenanigans you think you can pull, and I will personally build a case against you myself if you think to try anything out of line here.”

She shoots a hardened stare at you and you just feel the unspoken don’t test me that pierces through you, and you really think you’re beginning to respect this secretary under all your amusement.

You nod your agreement and still try to assuage her aggression, but you know it might be for naught.

All she gives you is an unimpressed, “mhm,” before she’s picking up her phone and looks at you disinterestedly as if to convey that your abrupt interruption has inconvenienced an entire empire’s worth of productivity.

“Ms. Luthor, you have a guest just before your next meeting, I’ve deemed six minutes to be enough for this brief appointment,” she pauses, and then, “of course, Ms. Luthor.”

She hangs up and gives you the go ahead to walk into the office, but not before she sends you a final warning look and you nod in acknowledgement.

“Thank you,” you say when you collect your things and make your way to the door.

You knock before a muffled “come in” is heard from the office, and you wait a moment before you open the door and go through.

Lena Luthor sits at her desk and types momentarily before finishing up whatever it was she was doing and she looks up at you, smiling pleasantly as she stands.

You know you don’t show it, but your breath hitches just the slightest when you get a look of her face and her pale blue-green eyes take you in.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asks you.

“The pleasure is mine, Ms. Luthor. My name is (Y/N), I’m not at liberty to disclose anything at this very moment, but I do have several documents you can read to inform yourself of your new arrangement, and after then we can discuss any questions you have, should there be any outstanding,” you say as you hand the file folder to her, taking your cue as she motions for you to sit in the chair across her desk.

She looks at the folder questioningly and glances back up at you, an expression of total confusion on her face which tells you enough of her knowledge of the real reason for your presence.

Apparently, all it’s taken for her is one glance at your company’s letterhead as well as the non-redacted version of the DEO’s contract for you before she sighs in recognition.

“I suppose this isn’t totally out of left field. I’ve insisted this isn’t required but it looks like they’ve deemed otherwise,” she says with a bit of a wry smile.

“I understand,” you say, and you do.

You don’t really know what it’d be like to have other people making decisions for you, and now that you think about it, it is just a little bit messed up when other people get involved and make you do things without your prior knowledge.

You think you feel for her a little bit then.

“Well, now that you’re here, I don’t intend on making this any more uncomfortable or unpleasant than it needs to be - this isn’t exactly my first song and dance. If we’re going to be around each other for as long as we will be, we can skip the formalities, if you’re okay with that, that is.”

“Of course, Ms. Luthor.”

She cocks her eyebrow and smiles expectantly, you blink and clear your throat when you have to snap yourself out of your little daze.

“Right... Lena.”

She regards you a moment longer than necessary and smiles again, softer this time, and remembers herself.

“Now, I suppose I should let my secretary know I’m still alive - though there is always that slim window of opportunity in which you severely harm me in the moment between now and when I walk towards my boardroom, but if you do spare me that, you’ll see I’ll be dealing with an equivalent small death in the form of an unsavoury businessman,” she tells you as she moves to collect her belongings and your file which she places at the bottom of her pile.

You smile at her admission, “I could be wrong, but it seems as though aggressive vigilance is a trait shared between you and your secretary.”

Still, you take a mental of the alleged businessman and you wonder if you have to step in at all, but you figure that’s not the type of tussle you need to get into.

You follow Lena as she walks through her door and she smiles at Jess as she passes by, Jess smiling back and instantaneously reverting to a neutral expression when her glance falls on you, and your mouth quirks slightly into a small smile.

She stops abruptly and you’re just several paces behind her when she sighs deeply, bracing herself for whatever this meeting holds and your day officially begins.

“Mr. Heaton,” Lena greets the man in the room.

“Lena,” he all but grunts back.

You take your place by the side of the door and you already feel mild irritation at the man.

You watch as Lena takes the man’s verbal pestering in stride and he’s practically hounding her, using poorly disguised intimidation tactics that you’re sure she can see through, and she continues to smile and correct the man when necessary.

Sometimes, and there are many instances, you’ve seen a threat of a challenge rise across Lena’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as you could spot it, and she merely leans further back into her chair which apparently only aggravates the man further.

You watch as he leers and begins to fall into taunts, downright refusing to entertain pleasantries as he presses harder and continues to push Lena’s buttons in some low blow attempt at undoing her.

You realize then just how differently the businessmen you’ve protected act around each other and how they act when they’re around a woman who is not only their equal but could in fact be a superior.

You can only watch in growing distaste as you watch Lena duck and dodge each thinly veiled accusation and every unsolicited comment, and you know very well your job doesn’t involve saving people from heckling in the form of business matters, but objectively, you wish you could knock this guy out into a sleep.

Still, you’re silent as you keep your post by the door, only able to watch the ordeal and you can only imagine how Lena must feel - she must be used to it by now, and somehow, the thought makes you more repugnant about the state of the world which really, is a bit of an impressive thing to do to you, as your being jaded of the current state of affairs leaves little room for surprise cynicism.

Before you can even contemplate the blatant injustices of corporatism and the workplace and society, Lena can probably detect your growing enmity radiating toward the other two occupants of the room and she cuts the meeting’s end, graciously thanking Mr. Heaton for his time and she will be in contact with him within the next month or so.

You watch as he gets up slowly, ogling Lena’s figure shamelessly and the tension gets heavier when neither refuse to extend a hand for a handshake.

He merely moves to leave after he’s done eyeing her, and then he looks at you, but you’ve already moved your gaze politely toward a spot on the wall ahead of you.

He moves in a way that will force your look, you pull your gaze to meet his and your jaw involuntarily clenches at the sight of him and his unwarranted arrogance.

You tilt your head slightly in challenge and in question, wordlessly beckoning him both to walk away but also to try something on you, just so you can feel some satisfaction of roughing him up just a little bit.

He opts for the smarter option and moves on without further fuss, and seemingly both you and Lena relax at his departure.

“Never again, please,” Lena says to no one in particular as she rubs at her temples.

She turns her chair to face you, and then she’s got her face in her hands as she inhales deeply. The rattling from your suit jacket makes her look up and you hold out a small migraine pill bottle to her and she smiles.

“Do you honestly carry that around everywhere or is that just for me?”

“Not necessarily, I could benefit from them too.”

She huffs a small laugh at your remark, “strange, I thought you were all supposed to be elite super-soldiers with no ailments, or without ties to the human condition.”

You smile easily, “that might be easier, but then that’d take away the basic human element of compassion, and I think that’s a pretty integral part they don’t teach you when you’re meant to be protecting people’s lives with your own.”

“You make it sound like it’s not about the money,” Lena says cheekily.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, the money is so great,” you say as you smirk conspiratorially. “But it’s easy to get jaded and lose track of yourself and the big picture - the difference between me and a machine is that I choose to do this.”

“Don’t you ever think what you do isn’t worth it?” she asks.

“Often... more than I’d willingly admit. Majority of the time, my presence isn’t ‘worth it’ or really necessary. I’m usually just for peace of mind, and I think that’s well worth it to be safe than to err on the side of risk.”

She looks at you and is silent as she thinks of your observation, before she smiles again.

“Right, of course,” she says dubiously.

“And I mean, usually I’m hired by people to protect them or their things or whatever else you could think of. You start to see a pattern if you do this enough times, you get to see what really matters to people when they think they’re in danger.”

You pause, realizing you might be speaking just a little out of line, but you can’t really go back on it now.

“I think, in this case, if nothing else comes from me being around you, I think one thing you can take from this is that there are people out there who care a lot about you and want the best for you.”

Lena looks at you and searches your face, her expression significantly softer than you’d seen it throughout the entire meeting.

“And you’re saying you’re the best?” she finally asks jokingly.

“That would be your words, not mine,” you grin at the jest. “I can only try to be better than I am at this moment.”

She hums in consideration, smiles at you again.

“Alright, poet, how about we get through the rest of this day and you can tell me all of your ruminations of life after.”

Before you know it, she’s stood up and gathered her belongings, walking swiftly past you and you fall in step behind her.

The remainder of the day is spent with no more aggravations, the rest of her company and her tasks are much more agreeable than the one unruly man you unfortunately had to witness that morning.

Lena insists that you sit on the couch, or at the very least pull up a chair beside the door if you really ought to be right there, but you decline and instead opt to switch up your posts in a way that is still in a good proximity to the door and with your eye to her balcony.

You begin to get the idea that perhaps you’re making her a bit nervous, and you concede and feel guilty about distracting her when you glance towards her, but she’s still typing away steadily at her computer, occasionally pausing to write notes.

Sometimes, you catch her gaze, and sometimes she catches yours, and more and more often you’re both just glancing at each other and the day passes with the cyclical give and take.

Eventually, it’s time to go home, and you’re rather surprised the infamous CEO Lena Luthor is going home at a decent time, but you decide to keep your presumptions to yourself.

When you reach the parking lot, you look up at the sky under the guise of taking in the night, taking note that there is very minimal possibility of some aerial attack.

You look around the parking lot and feel mildly uneasy about the vastness of space where you can just see all the possibilities of an ambush and how they would pan out.

Still, it remains quiet and Lena walks wordlessly beside you, the light rhythmic tapping of her heels the only sound that you can distinguish.

You scan your surroundings only moving your eyes, using the most of your peripherals and not bothering to turn your head as you walk calmly to your SUV.

You raise a hand to gesture Lena to stop - you’re alone on this task, and you figure if something were to happen to your car at this moment, having Lena in such a close proximity is a bit of a moot point, but you figure at least you’ll have her in your sights.

You turn your back on her briefly, wanting to make this quick - you get to the ground swiftly and check under your car with a flashlight, searching for some telltale flashing or anything out of place behind your tires, in the rims, anywhere else something can be hidden.

You glance to see her heels still near you, and when you get up she looks at you with perplexity and vague amusement, but she thanks you nonetheless when you open the car door for her.

She gets into the backseat and you lock the door briefly - you know that the habit is a bit pedantic but you also know if there are people who are as equally skilled as you are, all they need is just a few seconds of opportunity for everything to go haywire.

Still content that you’re alone in the lot, you unlock your car again and get in quickly, locking the door again and turning on the ignition in one fluid motion before you’re driving away from the lot.

Seemingly instinctively, you start humming to yourself again, and it’s still the same song you’ve had stuck in your head all day and you wonder if you’ll go to sleep with that as your final thought.

You drive around several blocks to see if anyone could be following you, but when you’re satisfied that no one is going to spontaneously tail you, Lena finally fills the silence.

“You’re not lost, are you?”

“No, I’ve memorized several different routes to take in varying emergencies, and I have a few back up plans for several worst case scenarios.”

“There can be more than one worst cast scenario?” Lena asks.

You take a very brief moment to glance in the rearview mirror at Lena and give her a small, tight-lipped smile. You look away again and scan the streets and the sidewalks, looking for something you might not find - and you hope you wouldn’t.

“Have you ever had to kill someone?”

You smile and shake your head. Her small talk really gets straight to the point, but you entertain her.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve drawn my weapon a handful of times though, can count the instances on one hand. That’s like the last thing you should do, and shoot only when our lives are in immediate danger.”

Lena hums, and then, “that must be quite scary for you. I don’t know how you’d deal with that.”

Involuntarily, you recall the ordeal with Lena and the Venture explosion, and the whole debacle of her brother’s attempts on her life and how she’d shot an assassin in a police uniform.

You look up into the mirror and see her gaze fixed outside her window.

“Well, you do what you have to do to survive. It’s not just self-preservation, it’s going against every instinct of your being that’s telling you to be fearful and to be at the mercy of your peril. Surviving against the odds means having to be your own hero in your most dire moment.”

Lena’s quiet for a moment, and you start to wonder if you’ve said too much.

“Is that how you manage your feelings with your job?”

“I just convince myself the money is worth it,” you say jokingly.

“I don’t believe you do it because of that though,” Lena says, and you glance into the mirror again and catch her gaze.

“You may think you do it because of the money, and you think your mask of selfishness can safeguard you, but personally, I think what you do is one of the most selfless acts of service.”

You’re quiet for a moment and you ponder Lena’s remarks. You appreciate it, and you understand it, but you don’t want to admit what it might really be - you haven’t wanted to admit it aloud for a long while.

“Or it’s just the reckless disregard of my life,” you mutter softly.

You don’t think Lena’s heard you when she says nothing, and it’s quiet for another moment before she speaks again.

“Whatever it is, you still do it because you choose to and not because you’ve been programmed to. The difference between you and a machine is that you can fathom gratitude, and the reward, and the risk and consequence of doing what you do. However way you twist it, that seems like the markings of a hero, don’t you think?”

You continue driving, your eyes still scanning your surroundings and even without the distraction of vigilance, you don’t think you have anything of substance to reply to Lena.

There’s a lull in the conversation and you hum the song that’s been stuck in your head all day, the steady rise and fall of your chest as you breathe putting you in a calm state of mind - you’re close to Lena’s loft.

“I didn’t take you for a Little Mix fan,” she says suddenly, and you’re overcome with the sudden, overwhelming desire to punch yourself in the face for how instantly you blush at her comment.

“I didn’t take you for one to recognize a song,” you retort, hoping you don’t sound too defensive.

You don’t need to look up in the mirror to hear Lena’s smile when she replies.

“Not me, no. It’s my friend, Kara. She has such an affinity for pop music and boy bands and girl groups.”

You huff in laughter and clear your throat, more than relieved to be pulling up to the private parking entrance below the building.

When you park in the lot she points out, you do your routine of getting out first and locking the door, checking around you, and unlocking the door and letting Lena out when your evaluation of the place is to your standards, and she thanks you again as she gets out.

She leads the way as you get into an elevator that will take her directly to the loft level, and you wait with your suits and your duffle bag in hand.

When she stands in front of her door with her key in hand, she waits expectantly and with great humour, watches as you acknowledge her silently.

You put the hangers for your suits in your mouth and bite down to hold them, your duffle bag hangs on your shoulder as you brace with your one hand hovering just near your concealed gun and the other in the ready position for an attack.

You look ridiculous, refusing to let her carry any of your belongings, and when she unlocks the door, you make quick work of going through without busting her door and you inspect the immediate area because you just never know.

You can’t ever get out of work mode, but Lena practically forces you to be casual when she walks past you with a smirk on her face and moves to take her coat off and shuck her heels off in one motion.

You decide it’s finally time to stop looking dumb and you take the hangers from your mouth. You look around the loft most definitely by virtue of having to know the space well and not at all to take in whatever personal stories you can parse from Lena’s home.

Lena’s voice comes from somewhere down the hall, “I wasn’t expecting a sleepover tonight, you can go ahead and order whatever food you’d like, I’ll foot all the expenses.”

You feel yourself flush again and you wonder if it was just absolutely necessary for her to word it like that, but you still linger around the space and wait for something to do.

“You’re like a vampire, aren’t you? Am I to invite you to do everything? You can put your belongings away, you know,” she says as her head pops up from around the corner, her eyes teasing as she watches.

“Of course,” you say, but you still don’t move.

You’re quickly becoming aware of how really useless you are not only when pretty girls are concerned, but when pretty girls are concerned and you’re meant to be around them in a job setting, but the entirety of you is wishing for circumstances that were anything but a job setting.

You ought to reel yourself back in; you know quite well how your superiors would react if they caught wind of your current misgivings.

You stand up straighter and fix yourself in an attempt to snap out of whatever inappropriate reverie you’re in, and you’re still standing awkwardly near the front door when you see Lena again in sleeping shorts and a loosely hanging shirt.

She looks at you quizzically when she sees your stare, an amalgamation of question and realization when she seems to figure out your expression.

“Darling, don’t tell me you thought I slept in business attire?” she says teasingly.

You’re slowly losing most of your senses and you’re reeling at her term of endearment, and you don’t even realize she’s come up to you until she’s just under your gaze - she’s a bit shorter now without her high heels.

“Not all of us sleep in our formal suits,” she says as she pats you on your chest. Your eyes widen even more and you don’t realize you’re holding your breath until she saunters away, smirking at your apparent uselessness.

“And please at least set your things down, you’re making me nervous just standing there for as long as you have.”

Finally, you concede and you find the least intrusive place to put your duffle bag and your suits. Lena gives you a slightly admonishing look when you let your suits crinkle on their place in a chair, and she takes them wordlessly and hangs them in her coat closet and eyes you meaningfully to make sure you don’t take them back.

After a round of polite, but suspiciously playful bickering about delivery choices that feels too familiarly domestic, Lena’s finally convinced you to sit on her sofa and you’re eating pizza on the farthest end of the couch as she looks on at you amused between commercial breaks of whatever TV show she’s left on.

She’s allowed herself one glass of wine tonight, to which you’ve adamantly declined for yourself and she doesn’t give too much of an argument.

At some point in the night, Lena’s fallen asleep curled up on the couch and you saw the progression of it but still didn’t say anything. Now, you can’t exactly suggest for her to transfer to her bed, and you most definitely will not carry her there, but you contemplate the pros and cons and even you know rather well how inconvenient a sore neck is from an uncomfortable sleeping position.

You’re a coward, however, and instead of waking up a peaceful slumbering woman you opt to just take the blanket that’s draped over the couch behind you and put it onto her sleeping form, and you suppose it’s safe enough to just stand up to get her a glass of water.

When you come back with the water and have shut off the rest of the lights in her loft, she’s murmuring in her sleep and breathing slightly erratically.

You merely watch and wait for it to subside, but she only gets louder and more distressed, and you realize she’s having some sort of bad dream and you move to rouse her from it when she wakes fully and sits up roughly to get her bearings.

Her breaths come fragmented and hollow when she looks around her, and she startles before realizing who you are and you suspect that your hovering presence is probably not the most comforting sight in a dark room after having a nightmare.

“Sorry,” you murmur quietly, “I was just getting you water, I guess you were having a bad dream.”

Lena just rubs a hand over her face, and you can see the exhaustion in her eyes illuminated by the TV light. You hand her the glass without another word as you take your place beside her.

She thanks you softly before setting it on the coffee table after she’s taken a sip.

She moves to lay down on the couch again and you’re just a little late in remembering to use your voice, but you think you know better than to appeal to a sleepy woman and you just let her fall asleep beside you.

You’ve left your gun and knife stuffed into your side of the sofa in between the cushion and the couch.

You took off your jacket and dress shirt some time in the evening and it left you in a white tank top. You know better than to sleep in your suit pants, but you just can’t bring yourself to change into something else - not when you’re fine as you are anyway and it’s not totally imperative to sleep in something comfortable.

You suppose you’re not going to do much sleeping anyway, which is a bit of a bad idea especially on your second day of the job, but there’s a plethora of reasons why you can’t sleep and these reasons will keep you up for an undetermined amount of time.

Eventually, somewhere between 4am and 5am you suspect, you finally fall asleep sitting up with your arms crossed and your head leaning back against the couch.

At 6am, you open your eyes just briefly to find Lena’s changed positions in the night and her head is pressed up against your leg, and you grin sleepily as you fall back to sleep.

About an hour or so later, you wake up to some commotion and your eyes snap open, you stand up quickly and realize that was probably not the best thing to do the very first thing in the morning.

Lena’s gone, but you smell something coming from the kitchen and you turn around and see her working around the space, coffee and a plate of food in hand and she finally notices your figure.

“I suppose one con of working for me is having to get up when I do,” she says in jest.

“There’s coffee, I don’t think I’m complaining,” you say hoarsely, your voice still rough with sleep.

You watch as she works easily, her hair tied up in a messy bun and her shirt just a little lopsided as it hangs off a shoulder. You know you’re staring, but you’re waiting for her to tell you to come over and sit.

She feels your gaze on her and smirks when she looks up, raising her eyebrows slightly in expectation as she tilts her head to beckon you to get over here.

You decide you’re a little bit too sleep deprived to deal with whatever hold Lena’s apparently got on you, and the whole point of you is to make sure nothing surprises you, but this is a fight you’re willing to concede.

You sit down tentatively and she smiles, her gaze lingering on you unabashedly and she nudges a cup of coffee to you.

You regard her soft, pale eyes trailing over you. You’re captivated by how objectively beautiful she looks, a total juxtaposition of the sharp, cultivated lines of power and grace you’ve seen of her business look.

You can merely sit there wordlessly and watch her taking you in.

“How do you like it?”

“What?” your eyes widen and you try to ignore the blush that’s rushing to your face - somehow, you’ve successfully managed to trip over one simple word.

Lena smiles widely, an eyebrow raised in what you realize is a look you’ve seen too often and one that could very well cause trouble for you.

“Your coffee, how do you like it?” she elaborates.

You blink owlishly at her and then your eyes snap down at the cup.

“Right, uh, just two cream one sugar.”

Lena still hovers near you, leaning closer as she reaches for the cream and sugar containers and your eyes widen again with bated breath.

You know for certain Lena’s aware of your inner turmoil, what with her hyper-focused attentiveness on you, and you thank her feebly as you take a drink and try to make you burning your tongue on it look gracefully intentional.

You’re a mess and you both know that.

“Are you ready for another day with me?” she asks innocently enough when she’s finally sat down near you.

No, this is more difficult than I’d thought, and for entirely different reasons, you think.

“Of course, hopefully it’s as smooth sailing as yesterday,” you manage to say.

You think you should pat yourself on the back for your great effort of composure, and you’ve got this. You’re finally getting back into the swing of things and doing your job like you were meant to.

Just then, Lena winks at you and smiles behind her coffee cup, and the crashing revelation of you don’t got this comes falling all at once and you inhale sharply at her teasing.

You smile back - perhaps it’s more of a grimace, in reassurance and Lena’s eyes dance with mirth.

She picks up a piece of french toast with her fork and you demand your entire body to ignore the elegant fluidity of her motion - however, that requires physically moving your entire self away which is more work than you care to do at this time of the morning, so you concede to watch, fixated and entranced.

You have to tear your eyes away when your gaze lands on her lips. Frankly, you’re quite impressed by how close you are to falling off your chair even when you’ve been completely still, but it’s when her tongue comes out and licks the maple syrup from her lips that makes you feel like the entire Earth is shaking.

You understand, then, that you have only two options to deal with this arrangement, and it goes as such: you can make things difficult for yourself and deny every blatant reaction you feel to literally anything Lena does, or you can go along for the ride and fight worthier battles.

You concede to the latter and watch as Lena still misses the drip of syrup that’s fallen a little below her lip, and you wordlessly get a napkin and reach over to her slowly, her eyes widening imperceptibly as she watches you approach.

You bring your hand close to her mouth and linger, making eye contact with her and grinning slightly before you wipe the errant syrup away.

Lena looks at you, her jaw slightly slack, as you lean back and continue to work through your breakfast, smirking at your own apparent hold on her, and you really wonder just how much more interesting this job will get.

[supergirlimaginesfic-blog]

Dating Kara Danvers (Meeting you was like finally coming home)

Request: henlo can u do an imagine where reader is dating kara and reader has been best friends with lena since forever and kara gets really jealous and stuff ;) 

a/n: apparently I was in a mood for fluffy angst Kara. I feel like I haven’t written one of those yet!! Kara has so much grief and a bunch of other emotions to unpack and I feel like the show did a pretty good job of covering that, but like the garbage monster I am, I need more. There is so much potential there and I am so fascinated by that part of her story. It’s the thing for me that makes her so much more compelling, it’s that thing that gives her that other dimension.

But also, I love easygoing, huge nerd Lena, I’d protect her with my entire life. I stopped midway through writing this and took a two hour nap. I feel like it might have paid off LOL. As always, I love seeing your prompts, requests, all the things you send me. Let me know what you wanna see and I’ll do my best to do it justice :D thank you so much for reading y’all!

- - - - -

You barely manage to not spit out your coffee as Lena interrupts your drinking with a particularly dirty joke. Sometimes you can hardly believe people are really so convinced that Lena is just a cold, calculating shell of a woman, but you figure she takes some comfort in that.

The truth is, she is so much more than that. You know the CEO Lena Luthor is a caricature of a phoenix - rising from the ashes of something once ugly and emerging as something beautiful and good. You love your best friend for that.

Even when you were six years old and she was five (she is just two months younger than you, thank you very much) you could tell she had so much light in her. It was a light that couldn’t be contained - her mind was just everywhere and she wanted to do all the things. Where her family wanted to wield that power and have their hands all over everything that could promise another peg in their overbearing legacy, Lena was a beacon of energy and goodness.

She was eight years old when she corrected your science teacher and informed him that what he was using to try and teach the class to explain the current lesson was something that was in the next unit in the curriculum, and with wide eyes and bated breath, you waited for the inevitable repercussions that awaited your best friend. Instead, your teacher just smiled, staring at the whiteboard as he amended his mistake and thanked Lena.

She was thirteen years old and you were getting into your obsession with hardcore metal bands and overhauling your entire wardrobe with band shirts and skate attire when she swept the Mathletics contest with ease. You teasingly referenced Mean Girls and her heroic likeness to a certain Cady Heron, which you were pleased to find she appreciated a lot.

You were sixteen years old when you found out she could graduate high school a year ahead of you, probably even more, and she looked sadly at you after she’d told you. The two of you were hanging out in your room, she was leaning against your bedframe and you were hanging upside down off the edge of your bed just at her feet.

“Why do you look like I just kicked your dog?”

“I don’t have a dog, how do you know what I would look like as if you’d just kicked my dog?”

“If anyone looked anything other than totally mortified and betrayed by the universe if something like that ever happened to their dog, I wouldn’t even be talking to them, actually.”

She chuckled dejectedly and you figured you’d take whatever small wins you could get.

“Seriously, quit moping. We already both know you’re a freakin’ genius. Don’t prove everyone wrong and not take the best opportunity of your life.”

“What if I am happy now?”

“Well then, you don’t accept the university offer and you wait. You’re desirable enough, all those universities will come scrambling over each other for you any time.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes at you. “And what if I want to?”

“Then don’t do anything that will make you unhappy - you take all the chances you can get and you own it.”

“But how do I know what I want and what would be good for me? What if they’re two different things? I feel like they’re not mutually exclusive. I’ve kinda been feeling that a lot lately.” Lena’s forehead crinkled in contemplation and you clicked your tongue at her, seeing her genuinely torn.

“You’re my best friend. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the entire time I’ve known your insufferably smart, gorgeous, and kinda ignorant ass, it’s that you can mess up so hard but still make it look good. Even if you realize you did the wrong thing, you can always pick back up. You know how to make things work. You figure it out all the time. That’s you.” You jabbed a finger in her direction, lifting yourself up to see her small grin.

“It must be so lonely being one of the youngest freshmen in university. I’d miss you a lot.”

“Yeah, and I’ll miss your dumb face a lot too. At least I’ll know you’ll be doing all that learning and thriving so you can hustle when we’re older and you can provide for me for the rest of my life.”

“I feel like you want me gone for all the wrong reasons.” She quirked an eyebrow at you and gave you a challenging look.

“Is it so wrong of me to wish the most success for my best friend so she can maybe always order the pizza whenever we hang out once she becomes wildly rich?” You asked her earnestly.

She laughed fully again, nudging your body with her foot and looking pleased as you grunted in annoyance. “I’d do more than that. You always hog the last piece. I’d order two pizzas, just to shut you up.”

You gasped, “Wow, rude.”

And so it was, years later and now in your twenties, you found yourself sitting across from her desk, Lena really a sight to behold as she presides over her family’s company, L-Corp. What the public don’t know, though, was that behind closed doors, the CEO of National City’s most affluent company just casually insinuated your girlfriend looked like she loved being rough with you in bed.

A little bit of coffee dribbled from your mouth when you barely managed to contain yourself. You wiped away at your lips as she smirked at you behind her own cup.

“You... are a little shit.”

“You’ve still yet to refute my observations.” She replies cheekily.

“Yeah, well, you can kiss my ass if you think I’m going to indulge you.”

“I’ll leave that for Kara to do, darling.”

You huff indignantly again and throw a crumpled up napkin at her face. It bounces off her easily and she laughs at you.

“In all seriousness though, how are you and Kara?” She looks fondly at the soft smile you make.

“So great, Lena. I didn’t think it’d be this easy dating a superhero either? We’ve been together for a few months now and it may just be a short while but I feel so much lighter with her around. I can feel the difference. My life’s just so much simpler with her.”

Lena smiles brightly, “I’m so happy for you. You deserve simplicity.”

“When are you going to find someone to itch your needs?”

She grunts at your question, “Do you really have to phrase it like that? Anyway, you know I’m rather busy. L-Corp is on the up and up now and I can’t afford any distractions.”

“You deserve a life of simplicity too, Lena.”

“Ah, but with the way my life is going now? The fortune cookie my mother read when I was seven said I’d be destined for great things, don’t you know this? Anyway, if I had a hunk like Kara in my life I don’t think I’d be able to get anything done, so I commend you, especially in the mornings-”

You toss a pencil in her direction this time and she just dodges the attack. She laughs melodiously as you send her a dark look, trying futilely to hide the blush that is quickly colouring your cheeks.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door and Kara’s head pops through the small opening.

“Oh, hey (Y/N), I didn’t realize you’d be here today. Hi Lena.” She smiles as she slips her whole body through, closing the door behind her.

“Hey babe.” You duck your head as your eyes widen slightly, still trying to hide the blush Lena successfully drew out of you.

Kara notices the blush on your cheeks, tilting her head with a small smile. “What were you two talking about? I could come back later if you want. Snapper gave me the entire day to be out of the office.”

“Nothing! Nothing worth knowing.” You remark almost too quickly and Lena is grinning as her eyes twinkle with mischief.

“You two are swoon-worthy. Hello, Kara- goodness, is it 12:30 already? I’m so terribly sorry, I lost track of time! Your girlfriend here deemed it necessary to derail my entire day.” She jokes good-naturedly.

You scowl at her and reply instantly, “You love me. Who else is going to remind you to come back down to earth with that inflated ego of yours.”

“It may be said I merely tolerate you. Regardless, I’m sure half of the city’s populace would be more than willing to do that job for you.” She purses her lips into a smirk and Kara watches your interaction.

“No need to leave, Kara, I’ll get out of your hair, for your jobs’ sake. Don’t let her get under your skin.” You look pointedly at Lena, addressing your last remark to Kara. You stand up and make the short distance to walk to your girlfriend, leaning up on your toes to give a quick peck on her lips.

She smiles dumbly and bites her lip after you kiss her - you have to tear your eyes away if you want to make it out of Lena’s office with some of your decency left.

“I’ll see you later. Text me when you’re coming home.” You whisper to her.

You toss a “Goodbye, loser,” to Lena over your shoulder and you see as she waves her entire arm excessively as you leave.

You go back home and manage to get a good chunk of your work done. Some days more than others you feel absolutely thrilled that you have a job that allows you to work from home on your computer. That’s when you get a text from Kara.

Kara: “Baby, I’m back at the office. Snapper called me back and wants us to stick around. I’m gonna be stuck here for a little bit longer than I realized :( I wish I could leave now, I was so excited to see you”

You smile to yourself, feeling a little bummed out for your girlfriend.

you: “Awww I’m sorry babe!! do you know how much longer you’ll be? Maybe I can bring you a special something to tide you over? What have you eaten today??”

You contemplate the admittedly extensive list of Kara’s favourite food haunts, and you wonder which three of the fifty places she hasn’t eaten at today.

Kara: “You know you could bring nothing but your cute little self and I’d be more than thrilled to see you.”

Kara: “You don’t have to come though, please stay home and relax. I’ll catch up to you when I can!”

you: “wow, I’m more exciting than food? To you?? That’s a big statement Kara. Well if it’s no trouble, I’ll pop by quickly anyway. I feel like I haven’t seen you all day. I feel like someone deserves a box of Katherine’s donuts.”

Kara: “ohhh you, if you insist. <3″

You eventually make your way to CatCo after stopping by Katherine’s Cafe, a bakery that’s seen more of you and Kara as much as your own apartment. You make your way through the building and smile as you wave to some of Kara’s co-workers, greeting Winn quickly as you see his dejected form slump just barely lift off his desk to return a lazy wave to you.

You get to Kara’s office and knock on the door, hearing her soft “Come in” to let you know to go through. When you close the door behind you, there’s a mountain of papers stacked haphazardly all over her desk and you see just a little bit of Kara sitting at her desk before you see her properly when she stands.

She opens her arms fully and you set your box down before making your way to her. She leans as much of her bodyweight as she’ll allow into your slightly shorter frame and sinks into your embrace.

“It’s starting to feel like some of this is a job that even Supergirl can’t handle.”

You chuckle into her chest and look up at her, kissing her chin before she gets the idea and kisses your lips as you both sigh.

“You’re Supergirl with or without the cape. And even without all those special powers of yours, you’re still my superhero.”

She smiles lazily as she rubs at her temples, a habit you know she started once in pretense to act human which has grown into a frustrated quirk of its own anyway. You leave her embrace reluctantly to move the box of donuts on a slightly smaller table that isn’t covered in documents.

“Kathy says hey, by the way.”

Kara’s sat in her chair and motions for you to come over. You grin as you make your way to sit on her lap - having a near invincible girlfriend who punches cars for fun was a cool perk of a relationship. You could practically climb her and she wouldn’t bat an eye.

“I love that woman, she should get more credit for those addictive baked goods of hers.”

She wraps her arms around your middle as your arms rest on her shoulders. You massage the back of her neck and she lets out a heavy sigh.

“Really rough day huh? How was your interview with Lena?”

“Good, good as always. We barely got through the interview when Snapper called me. Didn’t have a chance to have a proper conversation that didn’t have to do with work.”

You hum as you let your fingers run through her hair, you’ve let her hair come down to give her some reprieve.

“I’m glad you and Lena are great friends. I love that my best friend and girlfriend don’t have to pretend to like each other.”

Kara laughs as she buries her face into your chest. You can barely hear her speak.

“No, Lena’s great. She talks about you a lot. It’s so awesome watching how different she is with you.”

“You’re pretty close to her too. She trusts you and you trust her.”

Kara is silent for a moment and you have the slightest creeping suspicion that she’s fallen asleep. You wouldn’t actually be too surprised if she did. Her reply is muffled though and you can’t make out what she’s said.

“What was that, baby?”

Kara whines lowly when she realizes she has to repeat what she said, seeming to not have intended for you to hear her remark.

“I just said I wish I had a person like that.”

You lean back and give your girlfriend a soft look, your hands coming around to cup her face.

“You don’t have to be lonely, baby. You’re not alone. You have so many people who love you. We love you so much. For some of us, we’d even die for you.”

She clicks her tongue and her forehead crinkles. “You know I wouldn’t want that.”

“No, but it’s true.”

“It’s just silly, it’s stupid, it’s such an unpleasant thought. It makes me feel greedy. I have Alex in my life and she’s the best sister. I can’t ask for a better sister. She’s done so much for me and she’s lived her whole life to do things to protect me and she does it all so selflessly. You have Lena and you’re an only child and she’s like your sister. I don’t know why I should be jealous, it’s so unbelievably selfish of me.”

You melt at your girlfriend’s words and Kara squeaks softly as she realizes her admission.

“Baby, you’re jealous?”

She mutters into your body again, you realize she’s done it purposely this time but you let it slide.

“I just want you to know there’s no need to be jealous of me and Lena. We’re close as best friends can be. You and Alex also share a very special relationship that could seem difficult to get into sometimes. It actually terrifies me as much as it awes me, the lengths she’d go for you.”

You can hear Kara huff in laughter and you continue playing with her hair.

She replies after a moment of contemplation. “Lena is your Alex, that’s how I see it and I totally get it. I just guess sometimes... sometimes- it’s so bad. I really hate that I think this at all. It makes me feel like I’d change Alex, but I wouldn’t! I don’t ever want to change Alex.” She adds in quickly, and you let her continue, knowing she has to say her piece.

“It’s just, sometimes I wish I had a person I could choose. Like the relationship you and Lena have, sometimes I wish I’d met someone under circumstances where we weren’t forced to learn how to be around each other. One where we could just be. I wouldn’t have it any other way with Alex though, not at all. It’s just something I’ve always wanted to experience. But sometimes...” Kara inhales deeply and holds her breath before she lets it all out slowly. She moves her face away from your body and leans into your touch, allowing you to continue your soft work of massaging her head.

“Sometimes, Alex reminds me of my childhood. She reminds me of all the good, and all the bad, and all the in between. And whenever I think of this ugly loneliness I feel, I think about home too. And I think about what it’d be like if I still had a planet I could go back to, if I could just leave and fly back to my family and my friends after a while. I know it’s so much to ask for, to have two planets to call home. But I’ve learned to love Earth. Earth is my home now, and my life is so great here. It’s just, sometimes without meaning to, I’m reminded of the vast oneness I carry and I can’t even share Krypton with Clark. Seeing you with Lena today just brought it back and I really didn’t want to pin this on you today, god I’m so sorry- I’m not blaming you at all or anything. I guess I just had that all in my head and I never actually said it out loud before until now-”

“Kara.” You bring her face gently towards you and she lets herself be pulled towards you. You run a thumb gently over her lips as her mouth slightly parts, looking at you with wet eyes.

“Baby come here,” you kiss her softly and slowly, taking your time and letting Kara pull away.

Her breathing steadies as a tear falls from her eye, and you wipe her cheek with a thumb. Your words are barely a whisper when finally one of you speaks again.

“I’m so sorry you feel that way. I can never understand your pain. It pains me so greatly that I, or anyone else, could never understand the true depths of your losses. I so wish for there to be a way I can easily fix it with a snap of my fingers or a wish. It’s not that simple though.”

You bring her close to you again and she lets herself become enveloped in you.

“I’m glad you told me, Kara. You are so strong. You’re the bravest person I know. You inspire me every day. Every day you go out, live your life, and save others too, and you could very easily be bitter and resentful. But your heart is so good. You are so good, baby, and sometimes you are so good that we don’t deserve you, but you’re still out here loving and laughing and I love you so much for it.”

You hear her sniffle as she replies coarsely. “I love you too.”

“Good.”

She laughs slightly and you smile. “I love that you can trust me with little bits of your history. You are an entire world, Kara. It’s so amazing that you’re here and I get to kiss you, that I get to love you the way I can and that I can hear all these stories from you.”

“I like telling you.” She adds her next statement so softly, it could get lost in the air. “You make me feel like I’m coming home.”

Despite your resolute intention not to cry, you can feel a suspicious onslaught of unshed tears threatening your eyes, and Kara is on a mission to do exactly that.

“It’s so tiring sometimes; remembering you’re the last of your people. It’s like most days, remembering means doing everything you can to forget about it. And that’s not what Krypton deserves. That’s not what my family or my planet deserves. I want to live to honour their memory. But it’s also not fair to the life I have here. I don’t want to live with one foot out the door. My life is so good here, and I have people who love me so much that most days it feels like loneliness is a trivial thing in the grand scheme of the people in my life and the loyalty we share with each other. The little things just add up, and remembering it is like falling into a deep, dark pit of emptiness that I can’t come back from. I try so hard not to fall into that. I guess today was just one of those days I was forced to realize it again.”

You run your hands over Kara’s back soothingly, rubbing in calming patterns that you know helps ease her.

“You don’t have to forget Krypton. No matter what you do, you are honouring your planet. You survived against the odds, and I think there’s a reason for that. Someone or something out there knew you were special and that you would stand by Krypton the way it deserves. Your people would be so proud of you.”

You’re both crying freely now, and you wonder how a surprise visit to CatCo and a box of donuts could have ended up like this.

“You don’t have to do it alone either, Kara. We’re here for you if you need us. We’re here for you if you want us to help, and we’re here for you if you want to figure it out alone. Whatever you need from us, we’ll do it because we love you. You deserve to be happy and you deserve to feel worthy of a life of happiness. Don’t live in the fear of forgetting your home. Everything you’ve done so far and everything you’re going to do, you do it with such greatness. You are the best thing that Krypton has created.”

“I love you, (Y/N). I may have lost a planet but I found another. You’re the thing I want to live for and you’re the one I want to be better for.”

You rub at your eyes, inhaling sharpy in some attempt to suck all the tears back into your eyes. Kara looks up at you smiling widely, more than you’d seen her do all day, and she kisses you passionately.

You’re laughing into the kiss when she starts becoming grabby, you’d picked up on the hint when she started tugging up on your shirt. You’d barely kept your composure, remembering you were in her office and you had to swat her hands away much to her adorable frustration.

“Let’s go home, Kara. I don’t think you’re going to get any work done now.”

“Can we maul that box of donuts too? I’m in the mood for a romcom.”

“Alright, you got it, nerd.”

[supergirlimaginesfic-blog]

Supercorp - The places we’ve come from, and the places we’ve yet to go

Request: Can you do Supercorp fic? 😃 Anything.....

a/n: anything...?! ANYTHING!!!?? man when you have that much freedom it seems like it’s harder to figure out what you wanna do. I was mulling this over at work and I guess this is what I came up with, figured I should just roll with it. In the fun of it all I thought up some really fun heartcanons that I never really imagined before and I just had to stuff them all in here

As always, keep those prompts and requests coming, I love seeing what you creative people come up with! Hopefully I write something that makes y’all smile, laugh, makes your day, whatever have you. Thank you all for reading, whether you’ve dropped by once or you’ve stuck around a long time, I really do appreciate all of your feedback! :D

- - - - -

It was an arrangement that benefited all parties; Lena most certainly didn’t want to have to meet the family with still shaky legs and stolen of all her breath, and Kara felt like she missed the thrill of driving maniacally down an old dirt road. It offered a certain freedom that was so unique to itself that even flying in the city couldn’t touch it.

For all her seeming naivety and innocence, Kara was an absolute speed demon. Lena figured some of that might have had to do with her powers, but a lot of it might have had to do with Kara’s equally wild adrenaline chasing, motorcycle riding big sister. She herself had learned that Kara was a bit of a sucker for a nice bike and a lot of CC.

Not entirely surprised, but still rather wary of the habits she might have to indulge in the future when dealing with her girlfriend, Lena had to put her foot down somewhere, and there was plenty of: no, Kara, I will not ride on the back of a motorcycle with you to Midvale. And there was also a lot of pouting on Kara’s part, but for all the unstoppable forces and immovable objects paradoxes, Lena won out in the end.

So this is where Lena finds herself, nearly gripping onto the passenger side roof-handle of Kara’s modestly beaten up sedan with the windows rolled down and Kara singing along to some old music she used to listen to as a teenager - to get into the nostalgic spirit, as Kara put it when they were just about to drive out of National City. Lena merely smirked and conceded.

A particular song comes on and Kara practically squeals in delight, turning up the volume a few notches higher when a pop-rock guitar riff blasts throughout the car.

She nods her head excitedly to the beat of the music and Lena can’t contain her smile as she watches her girlfriend.

“She thinks I'm crazy, judging by the faces that she's making!” Kara glances to Lena with the widest grin on her face before her eyes are on the road again.

“And I think she's pretty, but pretty's just part of the things she does that amaze me!” Kara sings along to the music and Lena rolls her eyes, still smiling.

Kara sticks her hand out the window and feels the breeze hitting against her arm.

“Tell me that you love me, and it’ll be alright! Are you thinking of me? Just come with me tonight. You know I need you, just like you need me. Can’t stop, won’t stop. I must be dreaming. Can’t stop, won’t stop! I must be dreaming!” She belts out the words with a smile on her face, the wind tussling her hair wildly like an angelic rock-goddess vision.

Lena huffs as she watches Kara, driving with one hand on the wheel and breathing in the country air happily.

She’s used to a carefree Kara, seeing bits and pieces of her when Kara’s guard is down, but it’s much different when she’s going back home. She gets the sense of an easy juvenile wonder, of a childhood she herself didn’t really have and she’s grateful that if anyone had a youth of love and nurture that it was Kara.

When she sees Kara like this it always amazes her. For a child having been so young to inherit the history of her planet and to be the only one left to perpetuate its future, its entire culture, all of its stories, Kara grew up kind and loyal. She became a woman without inhibitions in love and she let her suffering propel her. Lena so very much admires her for that. They are a pair of people who could have let their world cave in on them, and at least for Kara, she rose above it. Kara is an inspiration to her.

The song changes to another pop-rock track by some obscure boyband Lena doesn’t pretend to know, and Lena’s guessed that Kara’s playlist for the drive is filled exclusively with this music.

Kara grabs blindly for Lena’s hand where it rests beside the gear shift and she brings it up to her lips. She lets her thumb rub lightly over Lena’s knuckles and she kisses them softly, smiling into the kiss.

Lena melts at the gesture and squeezes Kara’s hand. She figures Kara gets her strength from the sun, but she gets her own strength from Kara’s love. She can do anything with that, fight her demons, face a world of injustice, meet Kara’s family.

She sighs, steeling herself at the thought again and Kara senses her trepidation.

“They love you already, you know.”

Lena smiles in spite of herself. “Yes, I have already met Alex and Maggie. And I have had several conversations with your mother.”

“Yeah, see!”

“I just have my reservations, I suppose. Some insecurities that no doubt will be resolved by the end of this weekend. I’ll be okay, darling.” Lena smiles reassuringly at Kara, hoping her nerves aren’t too evident.

Kara glances at Lena for a few moments before returning her gaze to the road. She considers something before speaking up again.

“I want to show you something, it’s on the way there. Are you okay for a stop?”

“Of course, darling.”

The drive is silent albeit the music on the stereo, and it’s only a few minutes before Kara’s pulling up into a smaller path, takes several turns on the road and stops the car eventually. Lena takes her cue to get out and follows Kara who’s waiting for her on the other side.

She takes Kara’s arm and they’re walking up to an empty field, no houses, buildings, or any other structure present. Save for the trees and the wide expanse of sky that can be seen stretching on endlessly above them, they’re alone in what feels like the centre of the world.

Suddenly, Kara stops a few paces before a stick in the ground. It’s a simple plank of wood and there’s what seems to be doodles made by a young hand drawn onto the plank. There’s initials carved into the plank, and on closer glance, Lena can see the: A.D. + K.D. etched roughly into the wood.

Lena tilts her head as she regards the spot - an entire patch of dirt is grassless in front of the plank from years of a body or two sitting, playing, and walking around the small area.

“This is where Clark found me.” Kara says quietly as she watches Lena.

Lena takes a deep breath and looks at Kara. She’s contemplating the wood and crouches down to look at it.

“The pod I was in, he said this is where it landed.” She’s silent for a moment. “Jeremiah took Alex and I to this spot one morning and stuck that plank of wood into the ground. He let us draw whatever we wanted on it and it was probably one of the first times I ever held an Earth writing tool.” Kara chuckles to herself at the memory, smiling fondly.

“I broke quite a few markers that day. I thought Jeremiah would be angry at me for ruining all of them but he just kept handing me more, letting me practice and take my time. We sat here for hours, Alex taught me how to watch the clouds.”

Lena grabs for Kara’s hand, listening to Kara sharing a rare story of her childhood.

“When we got a little bit older, it would just be Alex and I coming down here. We’d eventually got tired of watching clouds. This is where I’d start flying among them. We snuck out here when we wanted to go flying. We never told Eliza or Jeremiah, but I guess they kinda knew what we were up to.”

Lena laughs, nodding her head as she says, “Yes, I can absolutely picture that.”

Kara smiles at her reply. “They let us have that. It was dangerous, and I figure without either of us knowing, one of them would always be around to make sure we weren’t getting into too much trouble. As you can see there’s not much to see out here.” She gestures at the vast space around them to emphasize her point.

“There was always something about it though, something bugged me but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It wasn’t until years later that I realized it was because it reminded me a of a gravestone.”

Lena looks up at Kara and sees her blank expression. She leans her head onto Kara’s shoulder.

“It’s like, I came here, I made it to Earth and I was saved. But at what cost? My life was spared to protect my cousin’s, but he ended up being the one to have to protect me. And now my people, his people, they’re gone and we were all that was left.”

Kara inhales a shaky breath, exhales sharply in a telltale attempt to reel in her emotions.

“It’s just, seeing this again and being reminded of what it means kinda humbles me. It’s one of the only physical reminders I have left of me.”

Lena finally speaks up, sensing an end to Kara’s story. “Thank you for showing me.” She says sincerely. She hopes Kara senses how grateful she is, how much she marvels at Kara’s strength.

Kara takes in another uneasy breath, steadying herself and squeezes Lena’s hand.

“There’s so many things that I miss. I feel like I’ve lived so many lives and it’s hard to keep track of them all. I had a life on Krypton, and then I had my life here in Midvale, trying to find my way through this new, scary planet. And then there’s the life I made for myself in National City, finding my purpose and becoming Supergirl. It makes me wonder how many other versions of me I’ll go through before it all settles down. I feel like I don’t ever stop moving.”

Lena looks at her girlfriend and sees the weight of several worlds on her shoulder. She’s barely hanging onto the last remnants of her own willpower to not cry for Kara - Kara, whose entire life was uprooted far too many times than one should ever have to go through, whose understanding of her world was tested time and time again.

Lena sees that what is left of those upheavals is a woman who refuses to be tied down by sorrow. Here, she sees a woman reborn like a phoenix, a god-like entity who’s faced a multitude of the most exhausting trials - otherworldly and otherwise.

She sees in Kara the sheer willpower to endure that the face of darkness shakes in fear of. She sees the makings of a hero that legends and myths are made from, perpetuated through generations and lifetimes far beyond anyone in the present time can fathom. She sees Kara, the woman who’s saved her, the woman who saves otherwise and barely spared enough to save herself.

“Well, if it were up to me, I’ll be there with you through as many of the lives as you’ll live. If you’ll have me.”

Kara smiles at Lena, a soft affection in her eyes. “Of course I’ll have you. Who else is gonna be my wooden plank in the ground?”

Lena laughs, tugging on Kara’s hand. What Kara doesn’t know is that she is Lena’s anchor. She is the reminder of what once was; she is the gravestone for the old expectations Lena once believed would be the reality of her life. Kara is Lena’s freedom among the clouds, an extraordinary defiance of all the odds stacked against her. Kara is Lena’s next life - the beginning, and end, and everything else in between.

Kara sniffles and rubs at her eyes harshly, a small pout on her face that’s reminiscent of the sheer stubbornness of a child. Lena smiles softly and pulls at Kara’s hand, bringing her in for a kiss. Kara leans down and lets herself melt into the kiss.

When they pull apart, Lena speaks softly. “Did you want to stay a bit longer? We can take our time here.”

“No, it’s okay. I just wanted to show you. I didn’t mean to get so emotional about it.”

Lena clicks her tongue and squeezes Kara’s hand. “It’s quite alright, love. We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

Kara takes in a deep breath, looks at the plank one last time. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s head over to Eliza’s. I’m sure Alex and Maggie have gotten there by now.”

The rest of the drive to Eliza’s house is spent in comfortable silence, the music’s volume at a more reasonable level that Lena can tolerate without pondering the state of her ears. Kara seems more contemplative now, but not visibly upset. Lena gives Kara the space to process and reminisce.

When they pull up to Eliza’s driveway, Alex’s car is nowhere to be seen. Lena takes another look at Kara and looks for any sign of distress.

“Are you ready to see your mother?”

“Yeah, totally. Are you still nervous?” Kara half-jokes.

“No, I’m quite fine. More than fine, actually. Nothing I can’t handle. This is all manageable.” Lena all but rambles.

Kara leans across to kiss her girlfriend, and Lena scoffs when she sees the smile growing on Kara’s face.

“Of course I’m a little bit nervous, this is your mother, one who actually cares for you and isn’t trying to terrorize you.” Lena amends.

“Just wait until she brings up the photo albums, she’ll terrorize me then.”

Lena smiles at Kara’s exaggerated shudder and pulls herself together; it’s now or never.

“Well then, let’s get on with it. Before I have the chance to escape.”

“Need I remind you, I’m practically a brick wall. You’re not going anywhere, miss.”

“You would restrain me under duress?”

“I would restrain you in an entirely different, much more appealing way if you’d like.”

“Oh, I like the promise of that.”

Kara laughs and puts a hand behind Lena’s head, bringing her in slowly to kiss her forehead. “Maybe later, though. The walls are kinda thin, even for people without superhearing.”

Lena looks at Kara and sees mischief dancing in her eyes, but then Kara is opening her door and moving to remove their bags from the trunk.

The front door opens and Eliza appears on the porch, “Kara, Lena!” She calls to them and waves.

Kara squeals when she hears her mother’s voice. “Eliza!” She sing-calls and Lena can’t help but laugh. Leave it to Kara to easily bounce from one emotion to the next.

“Lena, sweetie, how was the trip here? Has Kara properly scared you into never driving with her ever again?”

Kara gasps indignantly as she carries both of their bags to Eliza’s doorstep. “I am the most wonderful driver.” Kara drops the bags and hugs her mother.

Eliza winks at Lena over Kara’s shoulder, “Yes, of course. You’d make an excellent stunt car driver.”

Lena laughs, feeling herself relax more and more. “Hello, Eliza.”

Kara pulls away and moves to bring the bags inside. Eliza opens her arms and lets Lena enter the embrace. “Hello, Lena, it’s so good of you to finally visit me all the way up here. I know it must be difficult to step away from your company most times.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Kara reminds me to be human sometimes.” Lena smiles easily.

“Well, isn’t that a bit ironic? I feel the same thing often.” Eliza ushers Lena in, chuckling at her own joke. “How much do you want to wager- ah, yes, there it is. Kara, get away from that pie. Leave some for your sister.”

Eliza is moving swiftly into the kitchen to swat Kara away, she’s got the fridge open and her entire face peering inside.

“Chocolate pecan pie!” she says, her voice slightly muffled in the confined space of the fridge.

“Lena, distract this one. It’s like I can’t pry her away from the kitchen no matter what I’m making.” Eliza shakes her head amused.

“Let your poor mother work in peace, Kara.” She’s smiling as Kara sticks her head back out, blinking a few times before closing the fridge.

“House tour!”

Before Lena knows it, Kara is grabbing her hand and she’s whisking her into the living room. Lena spots the small piano by the window and her curiosity is piqued.

“Do you play?” She asks. Kara follows her gaze and smiles.

“No, not really. That was there for Alex. But she was a rebellious teenager and wanted to learn the guitar instead.” Kara laughs, grinning at the memory of a young Alex. “I liked playing around with it. It took me so long to trust myself with it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could make something beautiful and not be so scared of my powers. I didn’t want it to control me.”

She tests the middle C note and presses a few keys. Lena watches as Kara stands above the keyboard, playing around with the notes before finding the sequence that sounds familiar to her.

She begins playing a simple melody, by no means is it a difficult composition but Lena is still smiling. She’s beginning to suspect there is a lot more surprises from Kara that she will learn of than she’d initially anticipated.

Kara smiles proudly at herself, only having stumbled once or twice before finding her rhythm. When she turns to face Lena, not realizing how much closer she got.

“Oh, hi.” She grins dumbly.

“This is just the weekend to woo me, isn’t it?” Lena’s voice is low, she’s giving a look that brings colour to Kara’s cheeks.

“Pfft, what? No, why? Did you like- do you like when I play the piano?”

Lena smirks at her girlfriend’s reaction. “It just seems there’s far too much I don’t know about you.”

“Well, I mean- time to get learning! I guess?” Kara’s eyes widen when Lena comes closer, her lips barely touching Kara’s. She grins when Kara huffs in frustration as she brings her face away.

“You’re so mean to me.” Kara juts her bottom lip out in the biggest pout she can manage.

Lena smiles and wraps her arms around Kara’s waist. “Get over here,” she mutters, and whatever complaints Kara could iterate disappear as they fall onto Lena’s lips.

Kara only pulls away from the kiss when she perks up at a sound, and Lena can’t help the laughter that escapes her when she’s reminded instantly of a dog.

“Alex is here!” Kara all but yells, and Eliza calls back just as loudly from the kitchen.

“Go get them then, don’t leave Maggie waiting.”

Lena lets herself get pulled into Kara’s excitement, trailing behind her as her girlfriend brings her toward the door.

“Alex!”

“Hi, nerd.” Alex lets herself be pulled into Kara’s bear hug, only grimacing a little at Kara’s strength.

“Detective,” Lena grins cheekily in greeting.

Maggie nods her head in Lena’s direction. “Luthor,” she returns easily, smiling as they both move into a quick hug.

“Hey, Lena.” Alex moves to hug Lena, patting her on the shoulder as she does so.

“Jesus, Kara-” Maggie grunts as Kara lifts her off the ground, her feet a few inches off the ground. Kara’s got a happy smirk on her face.

“Kara put my tiny girlfriend down,” Alex reprimands.

They’re all whisked away inside when Eliza makes her way to the group, shepherding everyone into the dining room where everything is all set.

Dinner is a wonderful affair, Lena laughing at the countless stories Eliza has to share of the two sisters, and Kara and Alex arguing back and forth in a face-off of who had the most embarrassing childhood experience. Lena and Eliza get through a bottle of wine, Maggie and Alex working through a six-pack of beer as Kara drinks her own concoction of a piña colada - more pineapple juice than aldebaran rum because juice tastes so much better anyway.

When everything is nearly cleaned up and Alex, Maggie, and Kara sat on the floor in front of the TV like children, Lena and Eliza are watching from the kitchen as the trio shove each other in an attempt to be the ultimate Mario Kart overlord.

Lena insisted on helping Eliza, assuring her there was plenty of time in the night to learn the ropes of the intense video game marathon taking place in her house. Eliza supposed it was as good a time as any to have a proper conversation with Lena.

“I’m so glad you’re here, dear.” Lena smiles - Eliza wastes no time, and Lena can appreciate that.

“I’m so happy to be here too, thank you for welcoming me here for the weekend.”

“You make my daughter happy. Anyone who can make that ray of sunshine smile impossibly more is some kind of rare creature.” Her gaze wanders to the living room again, Kara and Maggie shouting as Alex whoops and hollers - alliances are constantly being made and tested, it seems.

“She’s been through so much. Jeremiah and I have tried to give her everything we could. But there’s only so much one can do for someone like her in our very human capacity, and we all know how some of the population feels about people like her.”

Lena feels an unpleasant swoop of discomfort and shifts slightly. She knows she’d have to work double time to gain people’s trust - and could she really blame them?

“Though, I’m beginning to understand; that’s just what Kara needs. She needs someone to give her that human connection, something that will bring her back down to us. She’s lost so much of her humanity, of that thing that makes her real, rather - and at such a young age too. It’s simply absurd to not expect a child to mature too quickly from all that suffering, regardless of the world they come from.”

Lena glances at Kara again, she’s got one hand on her remote control and another hovering obnoxiously over Alex’s hands, waving her hand around in an attempt to distract her sister. “She showed me where her pod landed today.”

Eliza hums as she washes the dishes. “Yes, I feel like that’s one thing that helped her. It’s easy to get lost in the grander scheme of things. Sometimes Jeremiah and I had to remind ourselves that it could very well just be the little things that would help Kara in the end. If that meant letting her be a little reckless and giving some of her autonomy back, that’s just a small price to pay.”

“She mentioned you let her and Alex fly?”

Eliza laughs, “Don’t get me started. I had heart palpitations the first time Jeremiah mentioned he saw them do that. He had to assure me countless times he took so many precautions to make sure they were safe.”

“You’re a great mother to her.” Lena says offhandedly - she’s known it since the beginning of her and Kara’s friendship. She didn’t need much proof to make this observation.

“Oh, I try. It’s been a long process for everyone. I’ve only recently found a middle ground with Alex again. I hadn’t realized how much my child needed me.” Eliza is silent for a moment as she continues washing the dishes. “I hadn’t recognized Alex’s wordless plea until things boiled over last Thanksgiving. I’m ashamed to admit how shocked I was at my own ineptitude.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself entirely, the fact that you can accept that at all and that you’re aware of where you could improve should count for something.”

Eliza smiles at Lena, pausing in her cleaning to regard her. “You,” she says pointedly, “should not be so hard on yourself either.”

Lena’s jaw becomes slack and she closes her mouth slightly, lets it fall again and still remains without words.

“I can’t pretend to imagine what you’ve gone through. I can’t pretend to be the epitome of a great mother either; but I know a mother should not abandon her child.” She faces Lena now, sees the uncertainty and vulnerability there as she watches Lena trying valiantly to match her gaze.

“I’ve never intended to give you ‘the shovel talk’. Quite the contrary, actually. I wanted to let you know, in no uncertain terms, that you can call on me for anything you need. I’m not perfect, but I like to think I do my best.” She brings both hands to Lena’s arms, rubs lightly as Lena looks at her intently.

“You’re with my daughter now, and I don’t offer any of this as some sort of obligatory favour. You’re family now, and that’s what you signed up for.”

Lena stares wide-eyed at Eliza, lip slightly quivering as she blinks dumbly.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Eliza brings her in and Lena lets herself fall into the embrace, finally revelling in the connection of a mother’s reassurance. Eliza rubs her hand up and down Lena’s back soothingly, whispering into her hair.

“You are always welcome in this house.” She hears Lena sniffle and when they pull away a minute later, she graciously ignores Lena’s tears.

“Now, I have no doubt in my mind you and Kara will hurt each other somehow.” She returns to washing her dishes, having a few plates and pots left to finish.

“It’s an inevitability. What matters is how you work through it together. The thing that will save you is the desire to figure it out together. Life is messy enough as it is to be fighting with each other. No matter who’s involved, what it comes down to is that connection, the thing that makes all of us real. Humanity, for lack of a better term - semantics are so particular now, it’s that simple connection that ties us to the thing that makes us feel safe, that is what saves us all.”

Eliza pauses as she turns the faucet, everything now adequately cleaned and put away. “However many countless ways we get lost in ourselves, in our lives, in our place in the world, what we can count on is the thing that we can call home. For Kara particularly, that definition undoubtedly has a much broader scope, but I’m confident when I say you’re hers, Lena. You calm her in a way that eases her ever loud heart.”

Lena wipes at her eyes - apparently it’s her turn to be crying today. She doesn’t care at this point, crying freely as Eliza hands her a tissue. She laughs wetly as she thanks her.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world, Lena, and I am honoured that my daughter can give that to you.”

Eliza can barely process what’s happened as Lena brings her into another hug, “Thank you so much, Eliza.” It’s not nearly enough to convey her growing adoration for the woman. Lena knows there are never the right words that suffice in the world, and she feels that notion so much more now.

Eliza smiles at her when they pull apart. She regards Lena one last time before she glances at the living room. It seems that Maggie was the winner by the ridiculous victory dance she’s doing as she circles Alex, Kara falling over into a heap on the floor as Alex protests and demands a rematch.

“I think it’s time you dived into the very serious world of sport car racing, don’t you think?”

Lena nods and smiles at Eliza who urges her to go ahead as she prepares two glasses of wine to bring into the living room. Kara has found her way slouched dejectedly on the loveseat and she perks up instantly when she sees Lena walk towards her. She opens her arms to beckon her girlfriend to sit on her lap, and Lena curls up into a comfy position in Kara’s arms.

Kara looks at her with a soft expression and Lena suspects she must have used some of her superhearing to listen to her and Eliza’s conversation.

“We didn’t distract you too much, did we?”

Kara smiles and kisses just below Lena’s cheek. “No, I didn’t hear anything. I just missed you.” She pouts and Lena laughs, leaning in to kiss the pout away.

“Well, now that I’m here, you can’t miss me. I think it’s time I beat you at this properly.” She announces loudly to the room.

Maggie whoops and grins, “Hell yeah, Luthor. It’s time for Team Kick Danvers Ass to really get things started!”

Lena suspects she and Alex have had their fair share of alcohol, Alex looks up entirely scandalized, slightly red in the face from her buzz.

“There’s teams now?” She asks indignantly, but her competitiveness eventually rules out and she’s arguing her case for the losers to pick the next course, which is naturally fair since Maggie won the last round.

Kara, for her part, is too content with having a lap full of girlfriend and she refuses to let Lena go, but eventually relents when she sees Lena’s growing excitement as she gets into the game.

She laughs loudly and makes a show of kissing Lena excitedly, her pride knowing no bounds when Lena wins her first game. Alex blames her losses on account of Maggie’s sabotage - she’s trying to get me drunk, to which Maggie replies, that’s all on you, Danvers, or maybe you just suck, and Eliza happily butts in with a well-timed comment to keep the competition heated.

[supergirlimaginesfic-blog]

Supercorp - The Fame AU

Request: Singer!Kara Actor!Lena  Kara is on tour around the world and Lena is invited to the ellen Show, and they talk about her career and ellen ask her about her life with Kara

a/n: omg this was such a cute idea LOL thank you so much to whoever sent this! This may have taken a little longer than I’d like to admit because I got carried away with “research” and kinda binged Ellen’s interviews on youtube... oops. I love kissing ass, this entire fic is just me kissing their ass and building up the two nerds so hard. You will see what I mean

- - - - -

“Alright, enough, I get it. Stop clapping, I know I’m awesome.”

The crowd laughs and the clapping eventually dwindles. Ellen grins at the crowd good-naturedly before addressing the camera. Before she can say anything, someone in the crowd whoops and instigates another flurry of sound and laughter and she looks into the crowd.

“Hey! One more time and I’m gonna find you so you can be the next victim of my hidden camera pranks.” She scans the crowd and sees various groups of people laughing and whispering. She’s still grinning when she continues.

“Well, I guess you all know her, she’s America’s sweetheart, and she was on the show a few weeks ago before embarking on her Red Sun world tour.” Cheering erupts gradually and Ellen lets the crowd quiet itself. “I mean, this is my show after all, why wouldn’t I be here? You might remember America’s sweetheart, and also Kara Danvers promoting her album-” the crowd laughs and Ellen pauses.

“Right, Kara Danvers, well she’s not here and we’re not going to talk about her. We’re going to get the next best thing that her manager could spare us and I guess we had to settle, so whatever. Lena Luthor, everybody!”

Right on cue, Ellen’s resident DJ, tWitch, plays a short sample of upbeat music as Lena Luthor walks out from behind the stage and waves at the crowd that is excitedly welcoming her. She and Ellen hug and the music dies down when they sit on their chairs.

“You know, I really wasn’t ready for all that. I thought you were going to have more to say after your whole speech. Your producers had to practically kick me through to get me moving.”

“Nope, sorry, we only care about Kara Danvers, and whoever you are, Miss... Luthor? Miss Emmy award-winning lead actress for a drama series Lena Luthor?” The crowd cheers and Lena nods her head, gesturing grandly and exaggeratedly at the crowd’s response.

“Ah yes, that is me, all me, thank you very much.”

“And Oscar nominee for best actress in a supporting role, directing for your own film, The Spacewalker, and also best picture for the movie you were part of, National City?”

Lena clicks her tongue and relaxes into the side of the chair. “Ah, yeah, didn’t quite get those. Sore topic still, I’d rather not talk about it.” She smiles cheekily to the audience as Ellen speaks.

“Gee, well I am sorry. It must be so difficult to be so accomplished. Let’s talk about your equally famous girlfriend then.”

Lena breaks into laughter despite her cool facade and Ellen seems smug to have done so.

Lena composes herself easily. “Right. Okay, shoot.”

Ellen smiles, “But really, let’s talk about what you’ve done for a second.”

“My god, make up your mind.” Lena stage whispers to the crowd.

“You’ve been jumping all over the place, haven’t you? I mean, there was your supporting role in Fall From Grace, starring alongside Clark Kent. That was pretty serious wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, that was a bit of a toughie, that one. Took a lot out of me.”

“Really, I don’t think I’ve seen you cry so many times than in that one film.”

The crowd laughs with Lena.

“I got lucky though, Clark is such a sweetheart. His humour made things so much easier when the cameras weren’t rolling. It’s hard to always be so heavy and deep in your feelings, and I’m just not that kind of actor like some are. I’m glad he’s a bit the same way though. I don’t know what I would have done with myself if he walked around set looking like everyone had kicked his dog or something just to stay in character.”

“And right after all this crying and emotional turmoil that I don’t even want to think to get into, you direct your very own film? This is your first film, completely your own and it’s already Oscar nominated, like are you kidding me?”

The crowd erupts in cheers and Lena smiles, thanking the audience with a humble wave.

“It’s become sort of my baby, yes,” Lena says, nodding.

“That was an excellent movie by the way. It really was, no- I’m not just saying that. I’ve even stuffed a copy of The Spacewalker for everyone in the audience to take home. I must have bought too many or something, I don’t know.”

“All that in a year, a truly wild year.”

“Right, do you ever rest?”

“No, I can’t say I do. I’m riding on a bit of a high right now, so why the hell not?”

“What now? What are you going to tell me now? Are you going to tell me you’re writing a book next? That you’re doing voice acting now?”

“I mean, I would like to write a book one day.”

“Save it, please, some of us aren’t so accomplished as you.”

“Though I can’t really say much else but I can mention some work being put into a new video game series.”

“Are you serious? Really? I was just joking about all that!”

“Oh, awkward.” Lena chuckles as she humours Ellen. “But yes, I tell you the truth! Apparently I’ve got a nice, soothing voice with a pleasant accent.”

“Are those the only prerequisites to do video game voice acting?”

“Well they’re allegedly going to strap some face recognition software onto me - if I got my terms correct, some tech reminiscent of headbraces that I may or may not have worn as a child, and they’re going to put me in a big black bodysuit and capture all of my movements to use for their character. It’s going to be me, for all intents and purposes. I’m pretty much virtual now.”

“That’s amazing. That is really something. I am happy for you though, you are just so busy and you have so many great things happening to you. Who better for all this than Lena Luthor, right?”

The crowd roars with cheers and applause again. It actually takes the room a while to calm down.

“You’re so put together, you’re exactly the type of person I should dislike. A very happy love life too if the gossip I read is true. Am I right or am I right?”

“You are not wrong, Ellen.”

A few people from the crowd whoop and holler and Lena smirks as she waits for Ellen’s interrogation.

“I take it that you’re keeping busy? You can’t miss what’s-her-name too much?”

“Who? Oh, do you mean Kara?” The audience laughs and cheers, some “ooh-ing” as Ellen indulges them in their rowdiness.

“You’re dating?”

“I think so?”

“How is that going for you? Do you miss her?”

A soft smile spreads on Lena’s face, and she answers just a beat or two after she takes a moment to herself to remember her girlfriend.

“Yeah, I do actually. Don’t tell her that though. We didn’t really get much of a goodbye apart from a quick kiss before they’ve jetted her off for her world tour. I’m so proud of her, truly! We’d only became official at the end of her Down to Earth tour, so this whole music tour thing is a bit new to me too.”

“Everybody loves you, you know. You two are hashtag OTP goals, according to the consistent influx of fans invading my mentions on Twitter.”

The crowd comes alive in agreement and Lena laughs. “You’re all going to make me blush.”

“I’m getting a call from somebody though. This is so awkward, I’m sorry, I have to get this.”

The studio rings with the tone of a telephone as Ellen answers into the room, promptly ending the ringing. “Hello? Hello? Hi, yes, sorry, I’m kinda in the middle of something. I don’t want the vacuum cleaners you’re selling. Is anyone there?”

There’s a brief pause before another voice fills the studio. “Hello? This thing is on right?” the voice addresses someone else indirectly and seems to remember the phone call at hand. “Oh, shoot. Hello?”

Suddenly, the screens behind Ellen illuminate and indie-pop star Kara Danvers’ face fills the entirety of the panels. Lena bursts into laughter as Ellen grins mischievously (another surprise successfully pulled off), and the crowd is absolutely thrilled as people cheer and clap and some even scream.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“What? You called me! I don’t even know you.” Kara’s indignant huff fills the room and feeds into the delight of the crowd. Despite her own act, amusement twinkles in her eyes.

“That hurts, Kara. I’ve got your girlfriend with me.”

Kara brightens up instantly and this isn’t lost on anyone in the studio as they laugh. “Oh, Lena? Hi, I miss you! Is Ellen being mean to you? Is she being mean to me? Why didn’t you answer my text?”

Ellen and the crowd laugh as Kara’s attention completely shifts to her girlfriend. Lena shakes her head in fond amusement.

“Darling, there is such thing as a time difference.”

Kara’s eyebrows crinkle and she stares at the screen, seemingly staring right into the studio full of people when her face lights up again. “Ah, right. That must have been 4am for you.”

“I was not very pleased being roused awake by N’Sync’s ringtone waking me up with this one’s quadruple texting habits.” Lena points to Kara’s face as she addresses Ellen and the crowd.

“Whoa, okay! Way to expose me, babe.”

Lena smiles at the petname and the audience collectively “aw’s”, only to be mixed with laughter when Kara squints her eyes and playfully glares at her screen, speaking to the people of Ellen’s studio, “Oh, gross.”

Lena sticks her tongue out at Kara, who returns the gesture instantly. Ellen, freely smirking, decides to butt in.

“Kara, where are you right now? What time is it?”

Kara lights up in excitement, “Oh! I’m in the Philippines! It’s like midnight here. The 12 hour difference kind of helps. I love it so much here! I wish I could explore more, it’s so pretty. Babe, we have to come back.”

“Alright, dear.” Lena smiles up at the screen.

“Kara, I’m going to take your girlfriend back now, you’re taking up too much of my segment time.”

“Ah! Why didn’t you say so, alright I love you all! Thanks for having me, Ellen! Everybody, come out to the Red Sun tour, I’ll be coming to a city near you to see all your wonderful faces! Thank you so much for all the love, you guys! I’ll see you there! Lena, text me, I miss you!” Kara blows a quick sloppy kiss to the screen and the crowd cheers one last time before the video call cuts out to Kara waving animatedly.

Ellen hastily addresses the cameras, “We’ll be back after this break. Once again, Lena Luthor, everybody!” She gestures to Lena who waves at the camera.

The cameras pan out and their mics are cut. Lena stands up and leans toward Ellen, opens her arms for a hug. They share a silent conversation; Lena thanking Ellen for the surprise, Ellen grinning easily at her, and the program shifts into the commercials.