#My Nia has yet to ever feel THINGS about people aside from 'oh my' so I haven't explored that aspect of her yet

[maskedmuses-archived]

What is Nia's preferred prefence in dating?

She is uh, Simonsexual

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello                      Salut

Goodbye                La revedere

Thank you              Mulțumesc

You’re welcome      Cu plăcere

Good morning         Bună dimineata

Good afternoon       Bună ziua

Good evening          Bună seara

Good night               Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you?          Ce mai faci

I love you                 Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.���

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

[supercorpkid]

Red Kryptonite causes drama and trauma – The series.

Part 4 – There is happiness past the blood and bruise.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2370.

Warning: I cried writing this, so be prepared. But happy ending, I promise.

Previously on the series - part 1, part 2, part 3

You would love it if things had suddenly gone back to normal again. If you could just forget what happened, and go on with your life. You are not angry, really. It’s just this feeling of sadness you can’t ignore. Every time you look at Kara you remember everything she said. So, you’ve been keeping your distance these past few days. You’re not being mean, or impolite. You’re just not soft and sweet like your usual self.

It’s Monday, and Kara flies in through the window in her Supergirl’ suit and sees you sitting there on the couch, working on your new invention.

“Hey, you didn’t show up at training today, I got a little worried.” She says and you move on the couch uncomfortably.

“Oh! Ah, yeah. Did I- did I forget to mention that I’m not doing that anymore?” You don’t look at her while speaking. You just keep working.

“Doing what? Training?” She asks and you nod. “Kid, you need to practice.”

“Oh no, I know. I mean, I will. Just some other time, and with…” You mumble. “Someone else.”

You don’t have the courage to look at her. You know she’s hurt, and you don’t want to see it written in her face. Kara sits down on the couch in front of you. She is still in her super suit, which is weird because usually the first thing she does when she walks home is change. She doesn’t say anything for a while.

“I thought it would be good to learn different fighting styles and all.” You try to explain, but you both know that’s not the real reason.

“Okay.” She finally says. “Sure. That makes sense. So, who are you training with from now on?”

“Aunt Alex.”

“Oh yeah, great! Alex, yeah, she has a great fighting technique.” She stands up fast. “Ok, yeah. Cool.”

“I hope it’s ok.” You say even though she just said it was. You know it’s not really ok.

“No, yeah. It’s fine. It’s, um, cool.” She paces around a little, you can see from the corner of your eyes. She looks like she still wants to say something, but doesn’t have the courage. She keeps opening her mouth. “And the powers?”

“Sorry?” You ask, finally looking at her.

“Who are you going to train your powers with? I mean, Alex doesn’t have them.”

“Oh. I actually talked to Nia about it, she said she would love to help.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t seem right. You don’t know what to do with your face. Or with your hands. And you can’t hold her gaze any longer.

“Nia!” She screams. “Wow, that’s wow.” She keeps pacing nervously.

“I thought it would be good since it took her awhile to have control over her powers too.”

“Yeah. Mhm. Great idea. You’re so full of great ideas…” Kara stumbles on a chair behind her. “Well, you’re working on something so, I’m going to-to leave you to it.”

Your heart shrinks a little, but you know it is the right call. Training with your momma is what got you in the red kryptonite mess in the first place.

Next day you get to work with aunt Alex and things go great. You’re practicing on a dummy at first, and she just shows you a few moves. It’s easier with her, you don’t know why, but it is. Even Jamie joins, because Alex wants her to learn some self-defense moves.

“Hey kid.” Kara says when she sees you walking home after the training session, she puts the TV on mute and looks at you. “It’s a little late, where were you?”

“I had a training session.” You say making your way to your bedroom.

“Oh. How-how was it?” She asks, adjusting the frame of her glasses and you stop walking.

“It was fine.” You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how hurt she would be if you told her the truth. “Aunt Alex just showed me a few different moves that are easier for me to do.”

“That’s great!” Her voice comes out loud and squeaky. “Do you want to order pizza?”

“Um, not really I... already ate.” You point to the hallway and give a little smile. “Gonna go work on my project.”

“Sure. Ok!” She gives you a flat smile and a thumbs up and you disappear inside your room.

You’ve been in your bedroom for an hour when you hear a knock on the door. You lower your glasses and look through the door.

“Come in, mom.”

“Hey babygirl, what are you working on?” Lena asks, putting her face inside your bedroom and you look up from your prototype.

“Anti-kryptonite force field.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” She walks in and sits in your bed in front of you. “How does it work?”

“It doesn’t, yet.” You give her the prototype. “But when it does, this bracelet will automatically generate a force field around you as soon as you enter a space with kryptonite. No matter which one.”

“That’s bold. So why is it not working?” Lena looks at the calculations on your notebook.

“Well, it might be, but I can’t test it without being exposed to kryptonite, so...” You shrug.

“Do you want me to test it for you?” She seems excited to work on it and you agree with your head. “Really? That’s great! I’ll take it to the lab tomorrow! Can I have the notes too?”

“Sure.” You point at the notebook and she picks it up again.

“You can come by after school tomorrow and we can work on it together.” She says while flipping through the pages.

“I can’t, I have training.”

“You do? I thought training was on Mondays.” She is still looking at your notes.

“Oh, it’s, um, with Nia. She’s helping me with the powers and Aunt Alex with combat.” She looks up to you right away.

“And your momma?”

“I thought maybe she could be just my momma from now on.”

“Oh.” It’s her only reaction.

“Do you think she’ll hate me for it?” You ask looking down. Lena puts all the things she is holding aside and hugs you tenderly.

“She could never hate you.” Lena kisses your forehead and you smile lightly. “It will take her a while to get used to that, you know how much she likes being around you all the time, but things will fall into place.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait for things to fall into place.”

“Have you spent any time with her lately?” Lena asks and you shake your head disagreeing. “I thought she was your best friend.”

“Jamie’s my best friend.”

“Right. But she was close second?” She’s not exactly asking, and you know. You shrug. “I know you are hers.”

“I thought you were.”

“Oh, I was. And then you were born and I happily gave up that title so you could hold it.”

“Mom, I…” You breathe heavily. “I can’t.”

“No pressure, baby. You have to respect your time, but just think about it, ok?” She stands up grabbing your prototype and your notes. “I’ll test it tomorrow, and I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks mom.”

Lena closes the door and you lay on your bed thinking about what she said. You don’t want to use your super hearing, but sometimes your powers have a mind of their own, and you can’t really control them. That used to upset you, but now you just embrace it.

“Hey, is that her project?” You hear Kara’s voice.

“Yeah. Automatic anti-kryptonite force field generator.” Lena’s voice comes and you can hear she’s very proud of you. “It’s amazing, and I never thought of this.”

“Wow. That’s incredible! Does it work?” Kara also sounds impressed.

“I’ll test it tomorrow. But the math looks right.” You can hear Lena’ smile through her voice.

“She’s so clever, I can’t believe she’s my daughter sometimes.” Kara says and you hear a deep breath, but you don’t know from who.

“Are you ok? With the whole training with Nia and Alex thing?” Your heart skips a beat and you even hold your breath to hear better.

“I’m, yeah, it’s fine.”

“Kara.” Lena calls her on her bullshit. She doesn’t answer for a while. You think this is the time for you to stop listening. You should put your headphones or something like that, but then you hear:

“I’m so sad, Lena.” Her voice comes out small, and you know she’s crying. “She didn’t, she didn’t call me when she got shot. And now she is going to train with other people. She doesn’t need me anymore.”

“That’s not true, honey. She needs you.”

“She doesn’t though. She has you to help her with science. She has Jamie to talk to, Nia to help her with her powers, Alex to call for help.” She’s crying so much it’s hard for you to listen. “Lena, I have superpowers and she called Alex to help her!”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“We used to be so close, and then I ruined it. She used to tell me everything, and now she won’t even talk to me. And it’s all my fault.”

“Just give her time. She’ll come around. She always does.” You can hear the pain in Lena’s voice too. It’s so hard to keep listening.

“I think this time is different. I told her to use the watch only for emergencies and she got shot, but thought she was not emergency worthy. Then, Lena, I beat my own daughter. I told her horrible things and I left her all alone. I don't think she'll come around.”

“Kara, hey hey. That wasn’t you.” Now you and Lena are both crying too.

“I know! Of course it wasn’t me. But-but it was my face she saw flying away while she was suffocating and begging for help. It was my voice she heard yelling for her to get up over and over again, even when she couldn’t.” There’s a long pause when you can only hear crying and desperate noises leaving her mouth. “Lena, when she was born, I promised I would always keep her safe, now it’s my name she associates with pain.”

You are also crying hard now. What are you doing? What were you thinking? What Kara did was bad. But what you are doing now is just as bad, if not worse. You know how much pain she is in. She’ll never forgive herself for any of that, and you’re not forgiving her either.

It’s red kryptonite. It’s not like you are immune to it. What if you get exposed and you physically hurt the people that you love the most, and they can’t forgive you for that? What if you say every single unfiltered dumb thought you’ve ever had in your life and they hold you accountable for it?

And it’s Kara of all people. She is the person you want to see whenever you feel sad. She is the arms you want around you every time you cry. She is the one you want to calm you after a panic attack, or a nightmare. She is also the person you want to go on waterslides with, and laugh with, and sing with. So, what the hell are you doing?

You use your super speed and run to their bedroom, quickly opening the door. Kara’s holding her pillow with so much strength it looks like it’s about to explode. Lena is kissing her shoulders and hugging her sideways.

“Momma.” They both raise their heads to look at you crying on their doorstep. You run to Kara’s lap before they can say anything, and she drops the pillow to hold you instead. “I’m sorry.”

“Little one, what happened?” She asks wiping your tears, even though her face is wet from her own tears. She immediately stops looking sad and starts looking worried.

“I’m-I’m horrible. It wasn’t you, I’m so sorry.” You hold her as tight as you can. “I know you would never hurt me. I know.”

“Hey, you’re not horrible! You’re perfect.” Kara says kissing your head. “You’re my baby. I love you so much, kid. I’m sorry you had to go through all of this. I wish you never got hurt like this.”

“But you didn’t mean to hurt me. It was the red kryptonite. I don’t have that excuse for hurting you like I’ve been doing.” You’re still clinging to her so hard you didn’t even notice Lena has left to give you two some privacy.

“Baby, I’m ok. We’re ok.” But you can’t stop crying and you can feel Kara’s tears falling on you. “We’re going to be just fine, kid. I promise.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Hey. You don’t have to apologize.” She hugs you tight and breathes in relief. “You didn’t do anything bad, my love. I did. I hurt you and I said horrible things and I’m sorry for all of them.”

“You were right though. I’m crying to my mommy like a little baby.” Kara wipes your tears, and then hers, and she smiles at you.

“You have no idea how happy I am for this.” She kisses your forehead. “Little one, I love you more than anything and anyone in the universe.”

“I heard that.” Lena says putting her head in the door frame. Ok so, apparently, she wasn’t exactly giving you guys privacy.

Kara calls her with her hand and Lena comes to the bed and holds you too. You’re squeezed between you moms, and your heart calms down a little. You’re home.

“I love you both so much.” Lena kisses your forehead, and Kara’s lips. “I’m so glad you two are fine.”

“Yeah.” You smile. “We’re fine.”

And it’s true. Things finally fall into place, and you and Kara are perfectly fine again. You’re still training combat with aunt Alex, because it got way more fun now that Jamie joined too, and Kara noticed it. But she always joins your training sessions with Nia, which is great and really fun. You’re happy in your new found confidence and when you look at Kara, you see the real one, and not the freakish version anymore.

So, for the first time in a while, you are actually fine.

Notes:

That’s it for this series, I really hope you all enjoyed it!

Another shout out for my idea buddy @hermen0404 who came up with the prompt in the first place

[lemotmo]

911 4x14 - thoughts and rambles

Okay, I just watched the finale of 911 after I managed NOT to get spoiled all day long. I’m still proud of that fact by the way. I wanted to peek at spoilers so badly, but because work was so exceptionally busy I made it work. And I’m so happy that I had no idea what was coming.

I’m not one to write episode reviews or anything like that, but I feel the need to write down some of my rambling thoughts, because this episode really blew me away in many ways. It was like a good fanfic come to life. I have to admit that, when I opened Tumblr, I was a little surprised that, in between the positivity, there was still quite some negativity about this episode. All while I’m sitting here, still crying over that great ending with ‘Skyscraper’. So, let me get these random thoughts out.

Be warned! Spoilers and thoughts on the overall storylines from the episode, different characters and of course relationships between characters after the cut. Mainly Buddie positive relationship thoughts though, because this episode filled me with the Buddie-feels. 😊

1. The episode as a whole felt a little rushed. The sniper storyline wasn't well-developed at all. I think that probably has to do with the fact that they had to shorten the season because of—well, you all know why. Let’s not spoil my happy mood here.

2. Eddie and Buck and all the blood—man, that entire sequence of events with Buck rescuing Eddie was just *chef’s kiss*. And the way he was in shock and shaking when he was talking to Taylor. Such good acting by Oliver! Also, did Taylor call Chris ‘his son’? I mean—what? Even outsiders can see it now. The Buckley-Diaz family vibes are real.

3. Question: How is it that Athena seems to be the only capable police officer that actually does any work on this show? She seems able to do everything: patrolling, investigating, finding evidence without any problem or help, walking into a fire and shooting people… You name it and Athena Grant-Nash will do it. And other police officers just let her as well. Is there no hierarchy in this fictional police force? I love Athena to bits, but this was a bit too much for me, if I’m honest.

4. Maddie! Yes, she’s getting help. Thank God. Listen, I’ve been there, right after child-birth. There was no fluffy pink cloud for me either. Just a lot of greyness. I started talking to someone when I felt it was getting to be too much and it really helped. So hopefully, she’ll get through this eventually. I’m hoping that they won’t brush over it in S5. I want to see her progress.

5. Bathena. Man, those two. Such a strong couple. One of the greatest fictional couples out there. I’ve always liked Bobby. Hell, I started watching 911 because Peter Krause was in it and I used to be obsessed with ‘sports night’ way back when in the nineties. 😊 I just loved how Athena showed up and rescued her man in a direct parallel on how he showed up when she got attacked and he was ready to kill someone to save her. Couple’s goals, I’m telling you.

6. Nia was back! That is all! I loved that so much!

7. Albert wanting to be a firefighter felt a little strange to me, but okay. Good for him I suppose. I admit that I don’t really care about him that much. He’s not a character that really speaks to me.

8. Buck and Christopher. Pffff—THAT scene where Buck broke down and Chris consoled him that Eddie would be fine. I mean, yeah—they really pushed the whole ‘Buck is Chris’ dad’ storyline. And then Eddie went and actually made it official. What can I say? I cried— hard.

9. Carla’s little talk with Buck. So many parallels to last week’s talk with Eddie. I mean, the first thing Buck thinks about is Eddie when he is asked how he’s doing. I’m a firm believer that Carla knows there is something unexplored there, right under the surface. If those dumb boys would just figure it out already.

10. That brings me to all the Buddie. Oh man, this episode soothed my aching Buddie-heart so much. It was like reading a good solid Buddie fic. It was all there, the terror and heartbreak, the fear to lose the other, the ‘you’re not expendable’, the ‘I made you his legal guardian’… all of it.

In the end Buck and Taylor happened (I’m not really surprised there as it was a season finale and 911 likes to end that with happiness for everyone) and Eddie and Ana still seem to be together. At least Buck and Taylor acted like a couple and kissed. Eddie and Ana have this weird dynamic going on. A kiss on the cheek? Really?

I will say this: I didn’t mind Buck and Taylor getting together. Like— at all. It -weirdly enough- didn’t even phase me.

Mostly because I was reeling so hard from the infinitely much more powerful emotional connection that Buck and Eddie displayed. Buck saved Eddie, but in the middle of it Eddie was worried about Buck. Buck was not fine after he delivered Eddie to the hospital. He seemed broken. And then Taylor kissed him and ran off. She later told him ‘You didn’t chase me’ (or something like that) and I’m like— no, he didn’t, because right then Ana called him and he knew this would be about Eddie and Eddie will always be more important. He didn’t run after Taylor. He ran towards Eddie. There's something poetic about that. And then Ana stepped aside, and Eddie looked at him with the biggest most soft heart eyes that I’ve ever seen. He’s never looked like that at Ana. In the last scene, when he told Buck about the guardianship he looked so sure of himself. Then he basically told Buck everything he’s ever wanted and needed to hear. Buck told Taylor earlier that he never felt like he was enough. Well, Buck— Eddie just gave you his entire world (his son). You are more than enough for him.

As a single mother I can attest that it’s very important to think about what you want for your child if anything ever happens to you. You don’t take the decision of guardianship lightly. I’ve been there. I was Eddie. It’s hard to make the right choice. For him to make that choice—to make Buck, his best friend, the legal guardian of his child? That’s incredible.

Combine that with Carla’s question last episode about following his own heart and not Christopher’s. It seems to me that Eddie has seen the light and he’s started to partially follow his heart. He’s still not completely there yet, but if this narrative continues, I can see him breaking up with Ana next season, because he realises that following his heart means following Buck, not Ana. And of course, by then Buck will still be with Taylor and there might be pining. I’m all for that.

There were so many parallels between Buck/Taylor + Eddie/Ana and Buddie. Not to mention the clear parallel between Bathena’s storyline and Buddie’s storyline.

I just— I feel really good about this when it comes to romantic Buddie. Listen, I have nothing against platonic best friends Buddie and if that is your jam, you do you! But, for me, the narrative is clearly pushing us towards a romance. I’m getting some really good slow burn vibes here. So far it feels as if Buddie is still right on track with no signs of slowing down. Now, I don’t have a crystal ball or anything like that so I don’t know what the future will bring and showrunners can always change their minds if they really want to, but –in my humble opinion- there is no reversing this kind of emotional connection. If the showrunners really wanted to stop the ambiguity between Buddie, they could have easily done that in this episode. All they had to do was feature more Buck/Taylor and Eddie/Ana to strengthen their connection towards season 5. Instead they focused on the bond between Buck and Eddie and intertwined them even more in each other's lives. So yeah, personally I feel like this is clear: There is only one way to proceed with the storyline and that is forward.

I’m actually really excited for season 5! A lot more than I thought I was going to be two episodes ago. And now there's Tim with his cryptic little quotes about Buck and Eddie. Another thing to obsess about! YAY! 😊 It's a great feeling to start the hiatus like that.

[blkmxrvel]

Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home [17] - (CONVERTED)

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

A/N: hi, back from the dead just to finish uploading this story conversion bc I’ve gotten a lot of asks about it! Still not writing anything myself so 😗 yeah Hope you enjoy

“Kara, is that a zip drive in your hand or are you just happy to see me?”

“… no?”

“I’m not watching any PowerPoints.”

“I brought cake?”

Lena sighed heavily and stepped aside to let Kara pass through the front door. “I regret ever telling you that cake is my weakness,” she pointed out. She closed the door and turned to Kara with a searching look. “And I imagine you’re here to talk to me about yours.”

“Am I that transparent?” Kara asked, sitting both the zip drive and the chocolate cake (extra icing) on the table. She sighed and sat down on the couch, then glanced up at the ceiling. “You don’t, er, have anyone tied up at the moment, do you?”

“No,” Lena smirked. “She’s gone to the pharmacy.”

“Oh,” Kara said as her friend sat next to her and crossed her legs. “I hope everything’s all right?”

“Everything’s just fine,” Lena said, and her smirk widened into a full-blown smile. “She’s gone for a pregnancy test.”

“Lena!” Kara gasped, launching herself at the woman and pulling her into a hug. “Lena, that’s amazing!”

Lena returned the hug, laughing. “We don’t know for sure yet, of course,” she cautioned. “But we’ve been trying for a little while and Sam's late, so…”

“This is the real deal, huh?” Kara said, pulling away and smiling with a wistful look. She’d known it was real when Lena had told her of her claim, but a baby… She couldn’t help but wonder what if-

“Kara?” Lena placed her hand on Kara’s knee, rubbing gently. Her voice was full of concern as she asked, “You’re not… jealous, are you?”

“What? No!” Kara said, shaking her head vigorously. She willed her smile to be a little less sad, realizing that Lena had completely misunderstood the emotion behind it. “You know I love you, Lena, but you also know I stopped caring for you like that a while ago.”

She hadn’t expected for their relationship to deepen the way it did. She was young and Lena was more experienced, both in their lifestyle and in life. Most people didn’t start relationships after their training was complete, but after Kara had spent her week on her knees learning from Lena, things had changed once she’d gotten back on her feet. In Lena she had found a caring Dominant, someone willing to take time for Kara, to teach her things that Kara couldn’t learn from books. And in Lena Kara had found an equal, someone who inspired her intellectually, met her attitude measure for measure, and had been responsible for more than just one awakening.

So it wasn’t any wonder Lena was concerned about residual feelings. Kara knew her feelings for the woman to whom she’d given her virginity wouldn’t just fade away, but she also knew that they could change. And, “It’s not really you I was thinking of,” Kara confessed, “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Lena said, seeming relieved.

“Just imagining what it would be like to know she was going out to buy a pregnancy test. For herself, or me.” Kara shrugged. “I guess I am quite transparent.”

“And a bit jumping the gun,” Lena said matter-of-factly. “I’m not sure either of you are ready for that leap yet. But you obviously didn’t make a PowerPoint to discuss what movies Y/N likes.”

“Wizard of Oz,” Kara muttered half to herself, and then sighed again. “I don’t suppose you really need to see the PowerPoint, though it’s a very good one, if I do say so myself.”

“And the subject?” Lena said, getting up to pour herself and Kara a drink and to cut the cake for them to share.

“Forty slides of reasons why I cannot fulfill Y/N’s request for me to dominate her.”

Lena’s hands stopped in mid-air, the knife hovering over the cake, and she gaped at Kara. “She asked you to dominate her?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m correct in assuming that you said no?”

“Would I be sitting in your living room, looking appropriately and movingly distressed if I had said yes?”

“Watch yourself, Kara,” Lena said sharply. “You know I will not accept disrespect, no matter how distressed you are, and even if you are not my submissive.”

Kara rolled her eyes, even as she winced. She well remembered the pain in her 17 year old bottom from every smack of Lena’s hand, and then the belt. But that didn’t compare to the humiliation of seeing Lena’s disappointed face beforehand as she gave Kara the lecture about respect, or being put over Lena’s lap with her skirt flipped up and her panties down.

“I’m sorry,” Kara said quietly. “I just…” She trailed off and accepted the drink and plate Lena handed her before sitting down next her again.

“You didn’t want to say no.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then why did you?”

Kara shrugged again. “I don’t know. Because she isn’t ready. Because I’m not ready. Because she has nightmares every night of him. Because she flinches whenever I raise my voice? Because if I even say the word ‘whipped’ or ‘paddled’ or ‘punished,’ she looks at me like she’s seeing him. Because—“

“You’re scared.”

“I really hate how you put words in my mouth.”

“You hate the fact that I’m right more.” Kara hmphed, and Lena chuckled a little. “You’re scared to dominate her, but you’re not happy with just casually dating either.”

Their society hadn’t really been built around casual dating, Kara knew. Back when her parents were young, when their parents were young, it was unspoken that when you found a Dominant, you were claimed by them before you even thought of doing anything with them. It was to be forever, a bond that was never to be broken. Kara had to admit that she preferred the way things were done now. If she had been born decades ago she would have never even thought about giving herself sexually first to Lena, instead of to her intended. But she was grateful for the experience, and even more glad that Dominants and submissives had the freedom to choose who they wanted to be with, and were allowed to have the sort of “trial and error” relationships that wouldn’t have been possible in the past. No longer did submissives feel as if they had to submit themselves to the first Dominant they came across, and no longer did Dominants feel as if they had to make a claim as soon as they reached a certain age.

And dating Y/N was nice… for the little time they had done it. Kara felt a particular twist in her stomach as she wondered if she’d ever be able to feel that way again, to be excited waking up the morning of a date. The rush of kissing in the moonlight before Y/N went inside Nia’s house. Sitting across from Y/N in a crowded coffee shop and knowing that Y/N only had eyes for her.

But Lena was right. For Kara, that wasn’t enough. She’d always pictured herself as meeting The One – the submissive with whom she’d share that unbreakable connection. She was probably too melodramatic for her own good, she’d been raised on musicals after all; but Kara had always imagined it would be the meeting of eyes across a crowded room. Two people gravitating towards each other, reaching out to grasp hands and… that would be it. Lover and friend, Dominant and submissive, together forever.

It was a child’s dream, and she was no longer a child. But that didn’t stop her from wishing.

“What exactly is it that you think I’m afraid of?”

“Why are you afraid of going to New York?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?!” Kara snapped, slamming her drink down on the table in front of the couch. She saw Lena’s lips tighten, and Kara took a deep breath. “Y/N seems to think I’m terrified of that as well.”

“And let me guess, you shut her down.”

“I didn’t shut her down; I merely told her the conversation was closed.”

“Refresh my memory on how that is different.” Kara didn’t say anything, just crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at the carpet. Lena sighed. “Do you remember when I was training you, and you sassed off at me so I whipped you?”

“How could I forget? I felt it for a week afterward.”

“And what’s part of the reason?”

Kara refused to look at Lena. “You accidentally wrapped the belt over my hip.” Lena had taken the utmost care with her, but she knew from her classes at the Academy that sometimes accidents happen. And that the most important thing was to tell your Dominant. But Kara had wanted to make Lena proud, hadn’t wanted the woman to see her as weak when Kara was working so hard to be good. A good submissive-in-training, a good Dominant. So she had kept quiet, even through the pain.

“And you didn’t tell me until I saw you looking at the mark in the mirror later that night.”

“No, Miss Lena.”

It felt weird, saying that, because she wasn’t a submissive and Lena wasn’t her Dominant, but Kara hadn’t spoken to Y/N for the last three days – she hadn’t called – and Kara had been struggling to maintain control of a life that she felt was spiraling out of her reach. Lena had always, ever since Kara was seventeen, been able to pull Kara out of herself and take that control, even for just a little while. Enough for Kara to clear her head and start thinking rationally again. Sometimes it was just nice to have Lena wrap her arms around Kara and pull her close, for Kara not to have to think about being strong and brave and dominant.

“What did I tell you that night, once I’d made sure you were all right and after I’d apologized for being careless?”

Kara nuzzled herself deeper into Lena’s arms, taking a deep breath and letting the worries that had overwhelmed her slip away a little. “That communication was important. That you can’t have a true relationship between a Dominant and a submissive unless both parties know they can talk freely, about anything and everything. But this is different,” she protested.

“No, it’s not,” Lena said firmly. “You’re afraid to go to New York, and you’re afraid to dominate Y/N just as much as she’s afraid to be dominated by you. You have a right to talk to Y/N about being afraid to dominate her, and she has a right to ask you why you’re so scared about that, and why you’re so scared to go to New York. And if neither of you talk about either of those things, then every fear you have right now of being like him is going to come true.”

“She’s not ready,” Kara said, sitting up. “She tells me that she doesn’t want to have to choose all the time, but how can she say that when she’s never even had choices?”

“You know,” Lena mused, smiling a little at Kara, “As much as I like wolves, you and the council did rather just toss Y/N out to them.” Seeing Kara’s look of confusion, she continued, “Think about it. Y/N’s life, although harsh, was all she’s ever known. And though she left on her own, she was still ripped away from it. And now you, and the council, and everyone involved is telling Y/N that she has to do it all herself, that she can’t have any support system. No wonder she’s terrified.”

“Having a support system is a lot different from being dominated, though,” Kara said, standing up and beginning to pace around Lena’s living room floor. “It isn’t as if she’s completely alone. She has Alex, and Maggie. Nia and her physical therapist and Miss Holliday. She doesn’t need to be dominated; she needs to learn what it’s like to have friends. She needs to learn it’s okay to have her own needs and desires and to have all of them met. She can’t do that if someone starts dominating her just months after she got away from that… that asshole. I can still be supportive of Y/N while not being her Dominant.”

“And you can dominate her without being her Dominant, and without taking away her choices.”

Kara didn’t see how that was possible. As much as just casually dating Y/N wasn’t enough, she didn’t think she could dominate her, either, not without the intent to claim her. And Y/N was nowhere near ready for that. Kara didn’t know if she’d ever be ready. No, the important thing was that Y/N knew she had choices, and that she learned how to make them. Maybe then, after a few years, they’d both be ready to try.

“Plus I could get in trouble with the council,” Kara offered, but knew by the way Lena rolled her eyes that she’d seen past the feeble excuse. She was good at that.

“The council,” Lena scoffed, shaking her head and moving to refill her drink. “The council, my darling Kara, is nothing but a group of old men sitting around thinking that they know what’s best for the Dominants and submissives of our society. And frankly I don’t think they should be telling me or you a damn thing about how to live our lives when they probably can’t even dominate their own penises into doing what they want.”

Kara choked on her drink and tapped her chest, spluttering. She stared at Lena in shock; her former lover simply smirked at her. “So you’re telling me to go against the council? Against what I think is the right thing?”

“I’m telling you to stop being so scared.” Kara sat back down on the couch and Lena once again patted her knee. “Tell me, when she asked you to dominate you, what terrified you?”

Kara thought for a moment. “How much she wanted me to punish her. I didn’t think, after all that she’s been through… I thought that would be the last thing she’d ask for.”

Lena nodded. “She probably wanted you to physically punish her too.”

“I’ll never,” Kara said vehemently. “I’ll never do that to her. Ever.”

“Notice that you just said you will never, not that you would never.”

“I hate you and your word-twisting ways,” Kara muttered, and Lena laughed. “I just don’t understand why she would want that. After everything he’s done to her, why would she want me to punish her? To spank her?”

“She obviously did something that made her think she needed to be punished.”

“She was being a grumpy brat.”

“Oh dear, you have met your match, then,” Lena said, sounding more than a little gleeful. “I can’t wait to see how this plays out.” Seeing Kara’s glare, she cleared her throat and continued. “So she did something that upset you, and she wanted to rectify the situation. In Y/N’s mind, wrongdoing equals punishment. Punishment results in forgiveness, forgiveness means moving forward with a clean slate. So that sounds remarkably—“

“Submissive,” Kara finished for her, sighing. “So it’s the not the punishment she wants, it’s something normal. Something she knows. Even if it means I’d punish her physically, she’d try to take it just so she could have that little piece of her life back. But isn’t that proof that she isn’t ready?”

“No. It’s proof that she’s trying to take control of her own life.”

Kara blinked. “I don’t follow.”

“A Dominant doesn’t need a submissive, but you can’t dominate anyone until you have a submissive. And you can’t have a submissive until one chooses to be yours. Until someone chooses to give you that control, you don’t have it. And Y/N made her choice. She took control of her own choices, her own wants, and tried to give you her submission. Everything you would be in that relationship is because she has made the choice to give it to you.”

“I don’t know if it’s me she wants, or just… someone to be nice to her.”

“No one’s saying for you to claim her.”

“Then what are you saying?” When Lena was silent, Kara pressed harder. “Lena, you know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t value your opinion more than most, probably even more than my daddies’. You’re the one that taught me, and if I’m going to be a good Dominant it’s partly because of what I learned from you. Please.”

“Do you think you’re going to be a good Dominant?” Lena met Kara’s eyes, challenging her. “Isn’t that what’s really holding you back, both from dominating Y/N and going to New York? You don’t think you’re good enough for either.”

Kara felt the chill run from the base of her neck down her spine, and she struggled to maintain her control over the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her at Lena’s words. How many nights had she lain in bed since she was 18 years old, dreaming of New York, of Broadway, of the school where people would appreciate her, where she would feel home? It had been a long time since she felt the excitement of new possibilities, of new discovery. She’d gotten used to getting up every day, the three cups of coffee before 9 a.m. that would barely sustain her for the rest of the day. Gotten used to meeting life’s broken, the castoffs, the unwanted, and feeling powerless to fix any of it. But gradually thoughts of New York had been replaced by helping who she could; dreams of Broadway had been pushed aside in favor of being the leading actress in a play of saving the world. Or at least the Lima part of it.

And then she’d met Y/N Hastings.

Now things were different. Now Kara got up every day not just thinking of the wounded submissives, but thinking of one. And lately the thoughts of one were overriding the thoughts of many. Y/N made her feel… awake, for the first time in a long time. Things that Kara hadn’t felt since she was on her knees for Lena, in Lena’s arms, in Lena’s bed came rushing back to her with a force that she hadn’t known even with her former lover. And there it was, the desire to care for one, the desire to control one, the desire to bring one to her knees and then lift her back up.

The one that felt like home.

But it scared Kara to death.

Because when she thought of Y/N on her knees, it wasn’t Kara herself she saw behind the other woman. It was him, with his harsh words and brutal hand. But the words were in her voice, the hand attached to her arm, and Kara knew she would rather die than be to Y/N what James had been. She tried to tell herself that there was no possible way she could be like him, that the very fact she’d rather die than treat Y/N badly would be the prevention of it, but Kara knew, again, that even experienced Dominants like Lena sometimes messed up. What if she destroyed Y/N even further than she had already been? What if she punished her the wrong way, said the wrong thing, was the wrong Dominant for the girl and neither of them realized it until it was too late? What if, just like in her dreams for Broadway, Kara suddenly found herself lacking?

What if she wasn’t good enough?

“You’re getting too far inside your own head,” Lena said quietly, a hand on Kara’s shoulder pulling her out of her thoughts. She smiled fondly, wrapping her arm around Kara and hugging her close again. “That’s why I almost never put you in the corner that week. I don’t know if you noticed that. But I could see that you liked to think about things far too much, and you’d end up beating yourself far more than I ever would.”

“What if I’m not good enough?” Kara asked bluntly. “What if I do this and I’m not what she needs, what if I’m the worst possible person for her and I end up hurting her worse than even he did?”

“Again, no one’s asking you to claim her. You just need to find a good balance, something that works for both of you.”

“How do I find that balance?”

Lena smiled and squeezed Kara. “By listening to your nature. To what’s in your heart. Kara, you’re more than good enough. For Y/N, and for New York. You’ve been wonderful, taking care of your father and doing your job. But maybe now it’s time for you to focus on yourself, and on Y/N too. You’ll never know, you might find out you’re exactly what she needs. And she might be exactly who you need. But you never know until you try. Oh, and Kara?”

“Yes?”

Lena hugged Kara close to her, pulling the girl’s head onto her chest. “I am so proud of you.”

Lena’s words echoed in Kara’s head hours after, when she lay in her bed in the darkness, idly petting Arnie and staring at the phone resting on her chest. People had told her before that they were proud of her, her fathers mostly, but somehow it was different, coming from Lena. It was almost like vindication, reassurance that the path she was on was the right one. Even if she wasn’t sure of it.

She glanced at the clock. Two twenty-three a.m. She glanced down at the phone again.

What would it take, Kara wondered. What would it take for her to stop being scared? What would it take for her and Y/N to throw caution to the wind and trust each other? What would it take for her to find that balance, the mix of dominance and freedom that Y/N not only craved, but needed? What would it take for Kara to be who she was born to be, and to maybe find the person she was born to be with?

A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.

Kara picked up the phone and took a deep breath, pressing a button. The speed dial kicked in instantly.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Then, just as she was about to hang up, a sleepy but panicked voice. “A-are you all right? Do you n-need anything?”

Kara smiled a little to herself, reaching up a hand to wipe at the tears that had begun to fall.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, Y/N, I do need something.

[oreoambitions]

The Aftermath

I felt like maybe we could all use a version of this story with a happier ending.

"Lex is dead. I shot him. Jess is taking care of it."

Lena sweeps into the room with those words, already shrugging her bag off of her shoulder. She has eyes only for the figure in Supergirl's arms, but Supergirl has eyes only for her, her declaration playing on a loop in her head.

"Lena, I- I killed Lex."

"Luthors are like cockroaches: you think you've got them handled until they come crawling out of the walls again. Don't worry; I made sure of it this time." She's tapping to life the machines next to the medbay bed when she spares a sharp glance for Supergirl. "He told me everything before he died. About you. Put her on the bed, please."

Supergirl doesn't move. "About me?"

"There's a life on the line here, Kara. A little bit of urgency would be appropriate."

So that's that then. Kara tries to ignore the sudden wave of nausea but it's overwhelming. She stumbles the last few steps to the bed. Linda is breathing, but just barely. Alex mouths something in Kara's direction, but Kara shakes her head. No she's not okay. No she doesn't know what to say. No it doesn't matter right now.

"What's her name?" Lena asks. Alex starts to answer, but Lena looks pointedly at Kara.

"Linda Lee," Kara says. "Lex named her."

Lena cocks an eyebrow. "What a terrible fucking name," she murmurs. "Alex, prep an IV for me please."

"Lena," Kara begins.

Lena holds up a hand. "Don't."

Kara doesn't.

Linda wakes on a Thursday morning feeling like hell. The inside of her mouth tastes like the smell of blood and her bones feel like splinters and she's so weak she shakes just from the effort of sitting up. But she wakes, which is honestly more than she was expecting.

And Kara is there, which feels so impossible that for a moment Linda wonders if she's woken after all.

Linda doesn't have to say anything; the change in her breathing alone was enough to alert Kara, and so Kara is already pouring a glass of water by the time Linda is upright to drink it. They sit there quietly, watching one another, while Linda takes sip after slow sip. Linda looks at her and tries to see the enemy. She wonders if Kara is looking at her and trying to see the same.

"Lex is dead," Linda says. It's not a question. If Kara is sitting next to her and they are both still free then Lex's death is the inevitable conclusion.

"He is," Kara agrees. And then, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not sorry," Linda says. She looks away. There are tears in Kara's eyes, and that's making tears threaten her eyes, and she's not about to be weak in front of Kara fucking Danvers even after everything. "He was not a good man."

"He was your family," Kara replies.

Linda takes another sip of water to be sure that her voice will be steady when she answers, "He wanted me to think he was."

Kara reaches out, hesitant, her eyes on Linda's as she slowly, slowly takes her hand. When Linda doesn't pull away, she squeezes. "You have a new family now."

Linda doesn't believe her.

It takes three more days, but Linda is finally able to sit up for long stretches and even walk the short distance to the bathroom without help. Her powers are coming back incrementally and she waits warily for Alex or Kara to tell her what it is they want from her. What if they ask her to retaliate against Kaznia? None of what Lex did was Kaznia's fault. But they don't ask her to do anything, and they don't ask her to leave, and the longer they simply allow her to recover the more anxious she becomes.

Alex and Kara arrive together one evening and Linda is sure this is it. She can walk all the way down the hall and back now, and her super hearing is returning, and it's about time to tell her to what purpose the United States will be putting her so that she can focus her efforts as she retrains. Alex and Kara are looking at one another conspiratorially and Kara is hiding something behind her back. Linda sits up and resigns herself to her fate.

"You can say no," Alex begins.

Oh Rao, here it is.

"Oh but why would you want to," Kara says. She dumps a pile of bright plastics onto Linda's bed, like books but slender and light, no pages, a puzzle. "Since you can't leave the DEO yet we thought we'd bring our weekly Danvers Movie Night to you. So go ahead, pick one!"

Linda doesn't know what a movie is, but Kara looks over the moon and Alex looks... indulgent. Linda plucks a plastic book out of the pile at random and offers it to Kara, who does a fist pump.

"Yes! I love Brave! Scoot over; we gotta order pizza."

Linda doesn't know what pizza is either, but Kara is worming her way into bed next to her, and Alex is pulling up a chair, and suddenly Linda is in the middle of a war:

"Pineapple does NOT go on pizza I am NOT having it." Alex makes a grab for Kara's phone. "It's an abomination!"

"You have to let Linda decide that for herself, she- give me that back! We can get two pizzas, gosh!"

"What is pineapple?" Linda asks.

Both Danvers stare at her for a moment.

"Okay," Alex agrees, "We can get two pizzas."

Lena is still the most beautiful woman Linda has ever seen, which is difficult because Lena, like everything else, is Kara's. It chafes. Linda doesn't want to talk to her at first, mumbles in answer to all of her questions, won't make eye contact, hates the way her heartrate picks up every time Lena touches her, hates the fact that Kara, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room can hear it. Lena never looks at Kara, and Kara never looks away, and Linda feels trapped in the middle of it.

The first time Lena comes to visit without Kara or Alex on her heels, Linda thinks of it as a trap. Lena is, after all, a Luthor. Maybe she's the one who will want to put Linda's powers to good use.

Lena doesn't touch her this time, doesn't ask medical questions or examine any of Linda's charts. She pulls up a chair and starts digging around in her bag.

"The unfortunate thing about being a Super," she says, "Is that there aren't a lot of people you can talk to about what you've been through." She smiles a tight smile. "Part of keeping so many secrets, right? Not unlike being a Luthor."

"Okay," Linda says. She fiddles with her own fingers, hands clasped in her lap.

Lena pulls a book from her bag and holds it gingerly, tracing the spine, not quite looking at Linda. "Lex gave me my first journal when I was a child, and, well. Every Luthor keeps one. I thought- I know you're not really- Kara said he was family to you, and that makes you family to me, so I thought I would continue the tradition." She holds the book out. "For you. For when you don't feel like you have anyone to talk to."

Linda turns the book over in her hands, admires the soft leather cover, the thick pages. She says nothing; there are tears lodged in her throat and she doesn't want to let them out. Lena fidgets for a moment, and then she stands up.

"Well, I'm needed in the lab, so. I'll leave you to your rest."

She's almost out the door when Linda says, "Thank you."

Lena freezes, her hand still on the doorframe, but she doesn't look back.

When Linda is strong enough to work in the gym, they introduce her to her new sparring partner. Nia is... odd. Goofy. Charming. Until she wants to throw down, and then not so much. She's more than a match for Linda with her powers still recovering, and it's nice to fight with someone who can keep up just for the ache and the joy if it. Linda tries not to think about the day she murdered Kara for Lex, but the first time she puts Nia on her back it all comes rushing in and she cries.

Nia sits with her and doesn't press her to talk about it, and Linda finds that she doesn't so much mind that Nia saw her in a moment of discomposure. When Alex tries to check up on them, Nia uses her body to block her view and sends her away with stern words.

"Have you tried ice cream yet?" she asks when Linda finally pulls herself back together.

"I don't know what that is," Linda admits.

"Oh man, I am about to absolutely blow your mind."

The first time Linda leaves the DEO it's with Nia and Kara.

"You can't wear DEO sweats forever," Nia says, one arm comfortably around Linda's waist. "And you'll feel better when you feel more like yourself."

Linda doesn't know what it really means to feel like herself. Kara drags her through the aisles and it's all overwhelming and bright and impractical. None of the pants have pockets. All of the shirts are too tight in the shoulders. Until at last Nia puts a hand on Kara's shoulder.

"I think I know what we need," she says. She leads them to the men's athletic section, and Linda discovers muscle tanks. This she can work with. She leaves with a bag full of athletic clothing and two pairs of jeans with real pockets and two button down shirts which make Kara smile.

"I have some old things you might like," she says. "I can bring them by some time?"

"You don't have to do that," Linda says. She already owes so much to these people, and to Kara especially. She’s already afraid of what it will take to pay it all back.

Nia smacks Linda playfully on the shoulder. “You have to let people be nice to you sometimes,” she chastises.

Linda doesn’t know what that really means either.

The days pass, and Linda gets stronger, and still no one tells her what it is they want from her. It’s a needle under her skin, a constant prickling anxiety that ticks up every time someone comes into the room until the day the world upends itself. She’s sitting in the sun bed writing in her journal when Alex brings a new visitor into the medbay, and Lena is beautiful, but the woman standing in the doorway is a vision, a goddess, a... Linda is running out of descriptors. In fact, she's not sure she remembers any words in any language whatsoever. The woman ushers a teenager into the room and then stands aside to let Alex pass. She looks at Linda with a curious expression.

"Kara...?"

Linda knows perfectly well that Kara is on the bridge, that this woman would have to have walked past her to get to the medbay.

Alex straightens up. "Oh! Right. Sam, this is Linda, Kara's other sister. Linda, this is Sam Arias. She's... a friend."

Linda is too busy tasting the name Sam Arias in her mouth to stumble over the word sister.

"And I'm Ruby," the teenager says, throwing herself down on a vacant bed and sticking out her arm. "Can we get this over with?"

Alex rummages in a drawer for the large bore needles Linda has come to learn the DEO keeps on hand for drawing Krpytonian blood. She sits up a little straighter, her interest suddenly piqued. Sam takes the vacant bed beside Linda's and rolls up her own sleeve.

"You might as well get a sample from me too," she says.

Alex pauses, needle still in her hand. "Lena said she already tested you."

"Yes, well." Sam glances at Linda, smiles a little, glances away. "I asked her to say that."

Alex sighs but she doesn't comment. She busies herself with Ruby, laughing with her, easing her through the process. Linda notes with approval that Ruby doesn't flinch when the needle goes in. Sam doesn't fidget while she waits, but she keeps stealing glances at Linda and looking away when Linda catches her.

"Who are you?" Linda asks at last.

Sam shifts uneasily in her bed. Alex moves over to her with a fresh needle, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves.

"It's a long story," she says.

"Mom was the vessel of an old Kryptonian god of destruction," Ruby supplies.

"I'd like to hear more about that some time," Linda says.

Alex gives her a slightly dirty look.

Sam comes back alone a few days later when Linda is training alone in the gym. She very nearly outmatches Nia now; she stays late after their sessions to work herself harder, seeking exhaustion, waiting to feel strong. Sam watches her for a while and then starts undoing the buttons on her shirt. Linda is pretty sure she's going to die if she sees any more skin, and so she looks away, willing herself not to flush.

"Wanna fight?" Sam asks, stripped down to a sports bra. She reaches up to pull her hair back.

"I could hurt you," Linda protests.

"I seriously doubt that."

Sam wins their first fight. And their second. Maybe Linda lets her win the third because there is something aching and good about Sam pinning her to the ground, knees on either side of her hips, so close that Linda can taste her breath.

"Yield?" Sam asks. Her eyes are on Linda's mouth.

Linda licks her lips without thinking about it. "Okay," she says.

The story about Reign comes out in bits and pieces between bouts. About the people she killed, how she nearly killed Kara, how she tried to kill Lena. How she packed it all away as soon as Reign was dead and pretended it never happened.

"You had a responsibility," Linda admonishes her. "You could have been there to help make things right."

Sam bows her head. "I know. But I'm here now."

They sit together on the floor, backs against the wall, sweaty and tired. Linda looks at her out of the corner of her eye, those soft brown eyes, slender hands, hard expression.

"So you and Alex," Linda comments, suddenly intensely interested in the wall on the other side of the gym.

Sam laughs. "Once, maybe, but that ship has sailed. She's with Kelly now, and I..." Sam looks at Linda, and then looks away fast. Too fast. "I have my eye on someone else."

Ruby's results come back and confirm what everyone already knows: she's half Kryptonian. The Arias women announce that they'll be moving to National City so that Ruby can be closer to the DEO for training and guidance. Alex announces that Linda is ready to move out of the medbay.

Lena immediately offers her a home. "I have more room than I need and it's like I said: we're family. I'm not going to leave you to figure the world out alone."

Kara glowers at her. "She's not alone."

"I know, darling," Lena says.

Kara flushes at the pet name and stammers. Linda and Alex share an exasperated look from across the room.

"What do you want me to do?" Linda asks. "I have my strength back. I'm ready."

This time it's Kara and Lena who exchange a look. "Ready for what?" Kara asks.

"Whatever it is you wanted me for," Linda says. She holds out her hands, helpless. "You didn't put me back together for nothing."

Lena squeezes her shoulder. "We put you back together so that you could live. What you choose to do with that is really up to you. But we have time; you don't have to figure it all out now."

Linda stares at them each in turn. Kara looks angry. Alex looks confused. The tears threaten to catch in her throat again. "I am a weapon," she says, reciting words from what feels like another life. "A weapon is a tool. A tool must have-"

"Lex is gone," Lena interrupts. Kara is clenching her jaw, tears threatening to spill over, hands trembling. Weeks ago Linda would have thought her weak. Now, she is not so sure. "You have incredible power, but that doesn’t make you a weapon. Like Sam and Kara, you get to decide what to do with your gifts; if you don't want to fight, you don't have to."

Linda thinks of Sam sitting against the gym wall, eyes closed, voice full of regret. I'm here now.

"I want to," Linda says. Her voice breaks. She clears her throat. "I want to help."

Kara cries.

Linda's belongings all fit into the backpack slung over her shoulder when Kara and Alex come to pick her up from the DEO.

"Get in, loser," Alex says.

Linda breathes a laugh; Mean Girls is the last movie they watched together.

It seems ridiculous to get in the car when she can just fly to Lena's, but Alex and Kara have been adamant and conspiratorial about this, so she complies. It is generally not worth fighting Kara on something once she starts to pout about it, and it's generally not worth fighting Alex on anything at all. When they agree on something, well, you might as well give up all together.

So she sits in the back seat and she doesn't comment when they leave National City behind. She watches the countryside flash by and she listens to Alex and Kara sing along loudly - and, in Alex's case, badly - to the radio. Kara punctuates almost every song with a story, and the two of them fight over who gets to choose the playlist when the radio signal gives out and Kara plugs her phone into the stereo.

They stop for gas and Kara buys Linda a sausage wrapped in bread and smothered in beans and cheese, which she refers to as "the king of all road trip meals" and which looks to Linda like vomit just waiting to happen. It turns out to be delicious; they make Alex buy them all a second round.

And then before Linda knows it the sun is sinking into that long golden hour and they are passing out of thick forests into a valley to the tunes of Death Cab for Cutie and Kara grins at her in the rearview mirror and says they've almost arrived. They pass a sign that reads Welcome to Midvale and Linda realizes with a jolt of fear where they're going.

Alex turns around in the passenger's seat to pat Linda's leg. "Hey," she says. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

But Linda is terrified when they pull up to the little house, the feeling of not belonging creeping her spine, her hands stuffed deep into her pockets, her heart racing. A woman comes out of the house before Kara has even locked the car. Linda can see something of Alex in her features.

"Hi mom," Alex says as the older woman ushers her in for a hug. Warm light and the sound of tinny classical music drift out of the open kitchen window to where Linda fidgets in the driveway. Kara hugs Elize too, and then Alex is pushing Linda forward, and Linda thinks maybe she's going to throw up those chili dogs after all.

Eliza smiles at her and holds out her arms. Linda glances at Kara, who nods encouragingly, and then steps gingerly into the embrace. It's... not terrible. Kind of nice. Eliza lets go and pats her on the shoulder.

"C'mon," Kara whispers. She tugs Linda by the forearm. "I'll show you our room. Oh, and Streaky! You're going to love him."

"Dinner's almost ready," Eliza says, "So you girls just go and wash up now."

Alex laughs when Linda sets the silverware out backwards, and Kara flicks kernels of corn at her with a grin when Eliza isn't looking, and Linda feels warmer than she thinks she's ever felt. When everyone is seated, and drinks are poured, and food is served, Eliza smiles at them across the table.

"It's so nice to have my girls home for the weekend," she says. She looks at Linda with a twinkle in her eye. "All three of you."

[musetotheworld]

Kara/Nia The two of them take Nia's mom's ship to Naltor. It's a two week trip each way. Both of them are crushing hard on the other, but think it's one sided.

“And you’re sure everything will be okay while we’re gone?”

Nia turns to her luggage to hide her frown as she overhears Kara once more asking Alex about how safe Earth will be in their absence. And she gets it, she does. Ever since Supergirl came out, the world has been nearly ending on a regular basis, most often with Kara right there on the front lines holding it back. Being away for a month has to be a scary thought.

But really, does Kara have to sound so…desperate?

Ever since Nia’s dream about returning to Naltor, Kara has wavered between excited to go and desperate to stay, and Nia doesn’t know what to think at this point. She could go alone, but she’s never been off the planet. She’d barely made it out of the country, never mind the solar system. And she doesn’t have any experience with flying spaceships.

So when Kara’d offered to join her, Nia accepted before thinking things through. And she was grateful for Kara’s help, really she was. Without Kara and Brainy, her mom’s old spaceship would probably still be sitting under a tarp with no fuel and an outdated navigational system. Not the most helpful after a warning she could lose her powers if she doesn’t return to Naltor within the year.

No, Nia is grateful Kara is coming along. Her help will be invaluable, especially since Naltor has a yellow sun like Earth. But she wishes she’d thought about the implications a bit more before accepting, particularly the thought of being stuck on a tiny ship with Kara for two weeks at a time.

Usually, Nia would jump at the chance to spend time with Kara, even knowing her crush is likely to make things awkward if she can’t keep it under control. She knows how awkward it can get when a straight woman realizes another woman is crushing on her, and there is not enough room on that ship to deal with that for a month. Even if they do have their own small rooms, Nia will go crazy if she had to stare at the walls for that long. And Kara is claustrophobic, so it’s not like Nia could claim the main areas for herself either.

Unfortunately, it almost seems like Kara’s already figured out about Nia’s crush. The way she keeps asking Alex about whether Earth can afford to be without two superheroes at the same time stopped feeling like reasonable caution a long time ago. Now it just feels like an avoidance technique.

Even Alex has been a little snippy the last few times Kara asked. At least, Nia assumes she has. Each time the question comes up she tries to be somewhere else, but there have been a few pointed looks that are definitely older sister annoyance. And no matter how many times the topic comes up, Kara still hasn’t changed her mind.

“Is this everything?” 

Nia jumps at the question, falling face-first into a pile of her things. Thankfully it’s the bedding and not the food crates, but it’s still not the image she’d like to present right now. How is Kara, literally the least sneaky person Nia’s ever met, able to move that silently?

Kara looks as embarrassed as Nia feels, and it takes longer than it should to untangle herself from the bedding. That might have something to do with Kara’s help, but Nia is resolutely not thinking about it right now.

“Um, yeah, this is everything,” Nia says when she’s finally back on her feet. “My mom had a few old Naltorian robes that I went ahead and packed, but they’re a bit bulky. Other than that it’s just a few outfits for the travel time.”

Hoping her blushes cool quickly, or that Kara at least assumes it’s only about her clumsiness, Nia turns back to the mess she’d made and begins to pack it back up. She really isn’t going to survive a month of this, is she?

***

Kara’s torn between using her super-speed to load the ship and taking her time. On one hand, getting out of her sooner means no more stares from Alex because Kara’s avoiding potentially uncomfortable situations. But on the other, loading faster means alone on the ship with Nia faster, and Kara’s not ready for that one yet.

Rao, why didn’t she think things through before offering to take Nia to Naltor? She’d been doing so well at avoiding any situations where she might blurt out something stupid like “I think you’re really pretty” or something equally disastrous. 

She doesn’t even know if Nia likes women that way! With the vast array of human (or half-human, in Nia’s case) sexualities, Kara’s never been good at figuring that one out. She hadn’t known humans even had limits on their attraction until her senior year when everyone started to talk in hushed voices about the new teacher who happened to be gay.

And now they’ll be together on Nia’s ship for at least a month, which beats Kara’s record for keeping her mouth shut about anything by at least three weeks. On Earth she usually manages to blurt things out to Alex or James, but on the ship it’ll just be her and Nia. What’s she supposed to do then?

In the end it’s a moot point as Alex, J’onn, and Brainy all help with the loading. With five people carrying boxes, it takes no time at all before there’s nothing left but the farewells.

“You’d better keep things safe while we’re gone,” Kara tells Alex as she pulls her sister in for a hug. 

They have a comm unit set up to allow some communication, but no one is entirely sure it’ll last stand up to the distance they’re going. It’s an outdated model for an outdated ship, and even when it was new it hadn’t been top of the line. They think it will reach Naltor, but the possible presence of anomalies along the route make it impossible for even Brainy to guess. Which means it’s entirely possible this will be the last time Kara can talk to her sister for a month.

Alex smiles at the teasing when she pulls back, reaching to squeeze Kara’s arm. “We’ll take care of everything, don’t worry. You just take care of yourselves. And maybe use this opportunity to actually talk about a few things, hm?”

Ducking away from yet another reminder of Alex’s opinion, Kara takes a deep breath and looks for Nia. She’s talking to J’onn and Brainy closer to the ship, and Kara heads over to join them. At least around other people Alex usually doesn’t tease her too much.

The rest of the goodbyes are quick, and before Kara quite knows it they’re out of the atmosphere and heading towards open space to engage the drives. It doesn’t take them too long, and thanks to Brainy’s updates the auto-nav will handle most of the piloting.

As the drive kicks in, Kara sits awkwardly for a moment before pushing up from her seat. “I’m, um, I’m gonna go get settled in.”

It’s not the most graceful of exits, but it works. And with the trip taking two weeks just to make planetfall, things will be a lot more comfortable if they settle in properly. Digging through suitcases for a month does not sound like a good time.

Getting things unpacked takes a few days, but Kara knows she can only stretch the activity for so long. She’s already almost said something three different times while they were preparing their meals together, and it’s been barely half a week. There is no way she’ll get out of this without making a fool of herself, but that doesn’t mean she can’t try.

Maybe if she reorganizes the pantries for a bit…

***

Putting down her book with a sigh, Nia wonders where Kara’s gotten off to now. It’s such a small ship, but somehow Kara’s managed to avoid her practically since they took off. Other than a few meals together, Nia hasn’t seen the other woman. And even at those meals Kara was withdrawn, avoiding conversation and running off as soon as they finished.

She’s debating whether to suck it up and just ask Kara if something’s going on when a loud thump echoes through the ship, followed by a smaller ‘ow.’ In an instant, Nia is up and heading towards the main areas. At least there are only so many places Kara might be.

Her heart is racing when she skids into the kitchen, taking in the sight of Kara sitting on the floor pouting, boxes of their rations scattered around her. Nothing seems broken, on Kara or their food supplies, but beyond that it takes her a moment to understand what she’s seeing.

“So, we found out how long I can store yellow sun radiation,” Kara says as Nia stares, trying to take everything in. “That’ll be useful in case I decide to shift all the pantry boxes at once on the way back.”

Brushing aside the spike of worry that comes from Kara not having powers, Nia edges carefully into the kitchen. “And why were you reorganizing the pantry?”

When Kara just shifts uncomfortably, Nia feels her stomach drop. Oh. Of course it wasn’t just her imagination, and Kara really was avoiding her. She’d tried to keep her crush hidden, but obviously she’d given something away and now Kara is afraid to tell her the attraction isn’t returned. Kara’s too nice like that, sometimes.

Well, Nia won’t be the one to make her feel bad about this. It’s her crush, her problem, and it’s not fair to have Kara spending hours trying to find something to do just to avoid her.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” The way Kara’s head snaps up at her words isn’t the most reassuring, but now that she’s decided to do this, Nia powers on. “I’ve tried to keep things under control and avoid making things awkward, but it’s obvious that it hasn’t worked, so I’m sorry. I’ll try harder, but you don’t have to rearrange the pantry just to avoid me and my silly crush.”

“Wait, you have a crush on me?” 

Nia pales as Kara’s words sink in, and she realizes she’s misread the situation entirely. And managed to give away her secret anyway. That’s such a Kara move…

“We can totally forget everything about this conversation. I’ll just let you get cleaned up in here.” Making a hasty retreat sounds like the best option here, and Nia is almost out the door when she hears Kara scramble to her feet.

“But I have a crush on you!”

Silence. Nia freezes in the doorway, and Kara doesn’t say another word behind her. For long moments, Nia doesn’t know if words exist anymore. Let alone the right words.

When her brain kicks back in, Nia turns slowly back to Kara. She’s strangely thankful to see Kara looks as flustered as she does. At least she’s not alone. In more ways than one, she realizes.

“So, I have a crush on you, and you have a crush on me?” Kara’s nod gives Nia the courage to continue. “And we were both trying to hide our crushes?” Another nod. “And that’s why you’ve been avoiding me, not because you realized I have a crush on you and it made you uncomfortable.”

“I wish I’d realized you had a crush on me, it’s been so boring trying to find things I can do on my own. There are only so many ways you can organize your stuff when you’re on bare essentials.” Kara’s embarrassment is fading, and Nia swallows hard when she steps closer. “But now we know.”

“Now we know,” Nia echoes, waiting to see what Kara will do next.

Maybe being stuck on this ship for two weeks won’t be such a bad thing after all.

[dumbdancemomssideblog]

S1E1: The Competition Begins

okie dokie first ever episode of dance moms rewatch starts now :0 i actually remember watching this the very first time it aired on lifetime because i was channel surfing and saw a commercial for it earlier that day. that was the summer between 8th and 9th grade. ah memories... i didnt know what to expect because i did dance when i was a kid but not on a competition team and it was mostly ballet so i was pretty unfamiliar with this whole world. 

anyway lets begin. this is probably gonna be a longer post than what i’ll end up writing for the other episodes in season 1 bc the first episode introduces so much info, just a heads up

Act 1: (aside: yes its insufferable to divide this into “acts” when its really just like “segments separated by commercial breaks” but thats how they’re called in actual tv scripts so im just going with that cuz i cant think of a better/easier way uwu)

god this is so fucking early 2010s lmao

i miss these days where they were just talented nobodies from pittsburgh on a low budget reality tv show that nobody even knew would be successful. and the bad hair and makeup but idk if that was also just a 2011 thing lol

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES GREEN SCREEN INTROS IM DYING

the chalkboard !!!! they werent doing the pyramid on the mirror yet 

(apparently abby never did anything similar to the pyramid thing but the producers made her and it became a whole Thing on the show and thats why the moms were like wtf is this bullshit the first week)

mackenzie looks like a toddler. chloe is so tiny. theyre the 2 who changed the most physically over the course of the show

i remember watching this for the first time being used to ballet lyrical and jazz but never having done or really seen acro/gymnastics in dance choreo and being SO flabbergasted. i was thinking “a chin stand is not dancing what the actual hell” and yknow what? i was right

melissa: “my boyfriend knows how much i spend on dance because he signs the checks...............hermehhemrherrmehermh” (the most awkward laugh omg)

maddie is wearing a fucking bumpit in her hair i cannot

melissa deadass just said out loud “im here for my daughter im not here to make friends” ok everybody mark that one off on your catty women’s reality tv show bingo card!

camera man accidentally getting in the shot filming right in front of the huge wall-mirror.... what is this, amateur hour? i’ll let it slide since its the first day of filming rehearsal but step it up, boys

aw i forgot about maddie getting sick and crying :/ poor kid

melissa saying “i cant stand a chid that’s sick” sounds so edited like the intonation made it seem to me like they just cut her off mid-sentence i love lifetime

oh this was still when they were wearing normal stuff to class/rehearsal like black leotards bc they werent getting sent a trillion crazy 2-piece dancewear outfits for free yet bc they werent famous, man those were the days

Act 2:

[obligatory b-roll footage of downtown pittsburgh] 

the maddie chloe paige trio !!!! this is making me feel so nostalgic

“knees together, paige. you’re bow-legged, you need to fix that”

“you’re tall, you’re skinny, you’re a beautiful girl, you can do better than this. FOCUS” shes like 10 abby what the hell

“people think im tough and i guess i am but i would rather be the one to make your kid cry in the privacy of my studio than at an open-call audition in front of hundreds of people”

okay unpopular opinion alert: i agree with a lot of what abby says about stuff like this but her delivery is flawed, to but it euphemistically, that being said i think the production team of the show and the fame inflating her ego changed all of this somewhere over the course of the second season and its really sad to see :/ i can expand on that thought later tho

aw paige crying bc abby correcting her (but not saying anything personal or out of line, just technique corrections (at based on what we were shown, we dont know everything she said oop)) shes a sensitive kid she never should have been put on this show :( 

paige looks exactly like her mom i didnt realize that before

nia and holly were done so dirty throughout the whole series in terms of the narrative the producers set up about nia being the weakest link :/ 

Act 3:

cathy’s entire involvement in the show from the very beginning was so painfully obviously scripted (or at least heavily staged) 

vivi was also done dirty by the show’s narrative and she was only 6 and they presented her as like the butt of the joke bc her mom’s “character” was crazy and also she wasnt good at dance. i wonder how she feels about the show now that shes a teenager hmm. she really seemed not to give a fuck about dance for better or for worse when she was a kid tho so maybe she doesnt care ?

in what universe would an owner of another competitive dance studio bring her own kid to another studio more than an hour’s drive away, AND be under the impression that she could compete with them in a week, especially when they showed the kids’ and moms’ shocked reaction at the start of the episode to having to learn a dance in a week and compete it? like really what is the point of cathy and vivi being a part of this show im so ????

Act 4: 

THE MINISTER DAWN OUTBURST HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT THIS

this fight is about 50% of what got them a full season 1 and then things took off from there tbh. the other 50% was the electricity dance but thats a point for next episode..... :)

“you’re a minister act like one” “YOU’RE RIGHT I AM A MINISTER! LET’S PLAY THE BIBLE GAME ABBY, WHEN JESUS SAW THINGS THAT WERE WRONG HE WENT AFTER THEM, AND YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DO THIS TO MY KID” ma’am i think the wrongs jesus addressed were of slightly more importance than a preteen being told she cant take a dance class if shes violating the studio’s dress code

this is so good bc it wasnt staged afaik and there are regular students all throughout the building just STARING at them like lmao what even is going on, so im pretty sure this is real???

regardless, yeah dont wear socks and a tshirt to an acrobatics class, thats common fucking sense

another cameraman-in-mirror sighting, but its hard to think about angles when filming spontaneous drama like this, so i wont count it against them

“you called me fat” (i remember that being in the episode but thats not on the episode available through lifetime on demand that im watching from my moms tv hmmmmmm) “i told you to close and tuck in your two-piece costume, theres a big difference. HOW CAN YOU REMEMBER THAT BUT YOU CAN’T REMEMBER TO TURN YOUR FEET OUT” uh scream

she really called the police on this woman i cannot handle this. can you imagine being a police officer responding to this call? 

“we have a parent thats out of control. pardon? no shes doesnt have weapons, just her mouth” iconic

im sorry im still not over the hair and makeup. the flat hair with the side bangs. the black pencil eyeliner applied all the way around the eye. why did any of us think this was a look :( why did we do this :(

Act 5:

they went all the way to phoenix to compete 3 numbers, only 2 of which are shown in the episode.

i think this is the only time they ever went to west coast dance explosion because its an actual competition and they wouldnt allow filming after this lol i think they did go to wcde one weekend in addition to a competition where they were filming but it wasnt shown or mentioned at all

abby not wanting brooke and paige to have a french manicure on stage if theyre the only ones in the group with the french tips is perfectly valid idk why it was framed as some crazy micromanaging shit

i also am really not a fan of the whole “high functioning alcoholic wine mom/crazy stage mom” schtick they were pushing for the first few episodes of this show

in retrospect i feel like so many of the quips in this episode were intentionally fucking crazy just to get the audience engaged enough to want to watch more episodes...

“see those girls down there, those girls with the legs? thats who you’re up against, so step it up”

abby warning them that its dangerous for their little party hats to slip when they’re doing aerials and pirouettes and stuff: “what if you were at radio city music hall and they had the ice rink out and you were doing a side aerial and fell 13 stories down and died, huh?” fantastic point abby thank you for saying that to 5 girls ages 8-12 less than 5 minutes before they went on stage. perfect time for a teaching moment like that :)

i forgot how bad the camera work was in the first few episodes for footage of their performances. like they really didnt think the show’s audience would actually want to watch the kids dance, the producers and editors thought we just wanted to see stage mothers yelling at each other lol

also the mic feed over the music of abby talking to herself giving them corrections while watching them dance on stage.... im so glad they quit doing that. i dont remember them doing it like that for any other episode, i hope im right

this choreo is very basic and its a cute dance i guess but its very cringe in some places and for the first episode this is such a forgettable group routine

their scandalized reaction to placing third and the sad piano music is so funny honestly

and maddies reaction in the interview which was almost definitely fed to her by the producers where shes like “i win all the time i dont really know what its like to LOSE i always win or get runner up” so many of maddies lines from season 1 interviews sound so fake and she was probably too naive to know they were getting her to say that stuff so they could paint her as a conceited brat (she was EIGHT)

the trio costume was so ugly im sorry (is it supposed to be like a 50s pinup bathing suit?) (and the headband thing looks so bad) and also the music is bad but they had no real authority over that bc of copyright stuff

chloe’s headpiece coming forward and the ensuing drama was another moment in the episode that really solidified public interest in the show imho.... 

“YOU’RE IN THE BAR HAVING A DRINK AND YOUR KID’S HEADPIECE IS FALLING OFF” “it did not FALL OFF it CAME FORWARD it was FINE!!!”

“mistakes happen, we’re human.” “YOU are. mistakes like that dont happen to me”

and then the “next time on dance moms” with the WILDLY INAPPROPRIATE electricity dance, of course. genuinely that was really smart of the producers in terms of structuring things to generate intrigue lol. and obviously it ended up working....

[cyclone-rachel]

you and me and atmosphere

a Supergirl fanfic

(post-Crisis, rating: G, word count: 2,000, pairing: Kara x present day Kenny Li although it’s pretty much completely platonic)

read on AO3 here

~

The stars looked different.

Kara didn’t notice immediately, as they were among the city lights and there wasn’t immediately time for her to look at the night sky clearly, but on one clear night, she did, and the realization refused to leave her alone.

She couldn’t yet examine what she recognized and what could have only been doppelganger stars from different universes, meeting in the same constellations and multiplying across the galaxy.

And that was just the stars- there was no way of knowing what planets were different from those she grew up learning the names of, studying alongside her aunt Astra no matter how much her mother disapproved as Astra brought her other ideals along with her during those visits.

She didn’t even know which ones had survived, and which still left vacant space in locations where life had once thrived, how many people on planets that once were who found themselves living different lives, with different families.

How many more people that had once lived on many planets, in many different universes, who now ceased to exist at all.

(The one exception- Argo. She had to know that it still lived, and when she and Brainy repaired the communication device that transmitted a signal back and forth there, hearing her mother’s voice answering her brought a wave of relief that overcame her as quickly as the tears that fell down her face)

Her first priority, however, on a night where she didn’t have to deal with Lex Luthor or other post-Crisis anomalies, was to find out for herself- just as she had when she first experienced such a disorientation after leaving Krypton, looking up at the stars above Midvale… first with Eliza and Jeremiah, then Alex, then a trusted friend. And now, on Earth Prime, she felt a need to do so again.

And so her search led her to an observatory located in one of the National City museums.

~

SPECTACLE OF THE STARS, the banner read, and Kara smiled as she looked up at it, before entering the area herself. It was close to the Krypton exhibit that she’d gotten to help with- and helped ruin, regrettably, even though that was more the fault of J’onn’s brother (she certainly hadn’t asked him to turn into a dinosaur- or for him to take Kara’s pod as a method of escape)- and before she got closer to the observatory, she lost herself a little bit in looking around there, seeing children look at everything that symbolized her journey so far, the last remaining pieces of the world she’d lost.

It was more comforting, certainly, than seeing them worship her- taking in everything with childlike wonder, admiring her accomplishments and learning her story but that inspiring them instead of throwing themselves in her path for her to save them. There was a kiosk, there, with a table that held a box of pencils and blank pieces of paper, as well as a large bottle full of those slips of paper, next to a cardboard cutout of herself, and a sign that read “How can you be a Supergirl (or Superman) to others?”.

As she watched, she saw a little girl and her mother both write things down and put them in the bottle, and she smiled. Nobody knew who she really was, here. Nobody was aware that behind Kara Danvers’s glasses was Kara Zor-El, their Supergirl, the Paragon of Hope who had helped make sure they had an Earth to live on. She and the others had brought the universe back, and as much in it as they could… but she was going to find out how much soon, after the crowd of kids around the museum’s astronomer dissipated.

~

“You’re in luck, you’re the last person who got here before my lunch break.” Says the astronomer.

Kara adjusts the bag she’s carrying on her shoulder, trying to be casual.

“Well, far be it from me to get between anyone and food.” She says. “I can… take a look myself, it’s okay.”

“Nope, that’s against the rules, I have to give my spiel to everyone.” He answers. “So, how much do you know about astronomy?”

A lot more than anyone would think.

“I learned the basics in middle and high school.” She says instead, casually, before looking up at the telescope, and the equipment attached to it. “How does this work, exactly?”

He smiles, and she moves aside so he can show her.

“Actually, I started out making a prototype of this myself.” He says. “And when I started working here, I got to design this version- basically the same technology, but on a larger scale and with a bigger budget. Without bogging you down in all the specifics, this screen-“ he gestures to it, with a constellation already visible- “captures what the telescope sees, in photographs that can even be downloaded on one’s laptop.”

If Kara hadn’t been feeling déjà vu before, she would be now, as the astronomer continues.

“Somewhere, past all that darkness, there are whole other worlds.” He says. “Can you imagine?”

“Yeah…” she answers. “Like the one Supergirl and Superman used to live on.”

“Exactly.”

“Can your telescope see any of them?”

The astronomer gives her a sad smile, shakes his head.

“Not yet, but I’m working on it.” He says. “Someday.”

“Well, good luck.” Kara answers, knowing that whatever answers she was looking for regarding those planets would have to wait until she got a way to travel into deep space herself. Maybe she could borrow Brainy’s Legion cruiser, now that she knows he has his own- or maybe they could go together, her and Brainy, and J’onn- and Alex too of course, and Nia. Her whole team of super-friends, traveling through galaxies, getting to see the worlds they saved.

From that perspective, it did sound like a miracle, instead of the tragedy that still sometimes consumes her nightmares.

She’s so lost in thought, considering it, that she misses the astronomer’s next question.

“What did you say?”

“Do you want me to show you something I found?” he asks. “You’d be surprised what this thing sees.”

Kara nods, and he moves the telescope until he finds it- one specific comet, orbiting the Sun.

“That’s so cool.” She says, taking a look at it herself, first through the telescope and then displayed as a still image on the screen.

“Yeah.” He answers. “It’s… well, after coming up with all of this, it’s my new pride and joy. I even got to name it.”

“Really?”

The astronomer nods.

“It’s true. I, um… I decided to call it Kara- after a friend of mine, who encouraged me in all of this back when we were in high school together. She was the strongest girl I knew- and I couldn’t think of any better way to thank her. Not sure where she ended up, but… if I ever meet her again, I want to show this to her, and tell her how much that meant to me.”

You already did, Kara thinks.

“That’s… great.” She says. “Seriously, congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Kara adjusts her glasses, before moving forward.

“Sorry, I’m- I was rude, I just… realized I forgot to ask you what your name is.”

“No problem at all.” He answers. “Kenny Li.”

I knew it.

She might not have known for certain at the beginning, but… this was definitely him. Had he never been dead, in a post-Crisis world? Or was this a version from another universe?

Would she have to ask J’onn to give him his memories back, show him what had happened to himself on her Earth? Could she do that to him, seeing him so happy, and proud of his accomplishments?

In any case, she hadn’t seen him in over twelve years, and certainly wasn’t familiar with this adult version of him, so for now she was going to move forward slowly.

“What’s your name?”

She almost doesn’t want to say. She considers giving him Linda Lee, the name Red Daughter used… but in the end, she wants to be honest with him, in a world where she gets a second chance to be.

“Kara.” She finally answers, looking around before taking off her glasses, watching his face light up. “Kara Danvers.”

“Oh my god.” He says. “The Kara Danvers? From Midvale?”

“The one and only.” She answers, and he hugs her, just for a moment.

“Sorry.” He says afterward, regaining his composure. “It’s not every day that…”

“You get to see an old friend, after years apart?” Kara finishes. “I feel the same way. It’s really nice to see you again.”

“Likewise.” Kenny says, hands in the pockets of his jacket, before pressing something into her hand. “I have a business card. If you wanted to talk, maybe catch up when you have the time-“

“I would love that.” Kara answers, accepting the card. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Kara Danvers.” He tells her, as she puts her glasses back on, professionalism returning before he puts up a sign telling people he’s on a break. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too, Kenny Li.”

She realized, as she walked away, that she hadn't really gotten an in-depth look at the stars, or the specifics of how they had changed. But as much as she had wanted to know those things, and got to know them when she was younger, there were other ways she could discover them, and after this certainly other opportunities to explore such changes. What she'd gotten today was something she hadn't even considered, another positive change in addition to those that her friends had already identified, and even experienced for themselves in the month since the Crisis had ended.

And that, for the moment, might have been worth more than any changing pattern in the stars.

"Alex?" Kara asked once she'd left the museum, over the phone. "You're never going to guess who I ran into today..."

~

Kara was familiar with the meaning of “star-crossed”. She’d first encountered the phrase in ninth grade English class, and earned some odd looks when she pointed out that stars couldn’t literally cross- but she’d excused herself, saying that that was theoretical, and Alex had called her a nerd. She later learned that it was a mere metaphor, and had nothing to do with real stars, that it meant fate had doomed whoever was unlucky enough to have that title, and it was most often associated with lovers.

For a long time, Kara thought her own life was star-crossed- that she was fated to lose her planet, lose her opportunity to pass the knowledge of her home to her cousin and raise him as the last son of Krypton he ought to be. Fated to become trapped in an endless, lonely void forever, until she was pulled free with the sins of her mother’s past. Fated to lose many others- from both of her best friends to, for a moment, her cousin and the love of his life, as well as her mother and the part of Krypton that she’d just gotten back. Fated to lose someone she cared about and had come to love, when she’d grown up hating his people, in a way similar to how she had been lost.

(That one especially hurt, months later, when she’d come across his copy of Romeo and Juliet, meaning he too was familiar with the concept… yet he had only highlighted parts that he’d read while thinking of her)

Fated, ten years before- before solving a mystery that had led her and Alex to becoming a truly united pair, to really feeling like sisters after a few years of being awkward around each other at best and loathing each other at worst- to lose her first real friend, the keeper of secrets who hadn’t even realized how much keeping such a secret meant to her.

It was only fitting, then, that Kara and Kenny were brought back together by the stars themselves, and this time, they were aligned in their favor.

[magewriter]

Kalex: Alpha/Omega (no smut necessary) Someone has tampered (possibly Lex or Lord) with the suppressants to make them redundant in National City so the DEO need to make an emergency supply, unfortunately everyone is suffering the affect of theirs not working, Kara loses her powers due to heat approaching and Alex get ferociously protective about Kara when others start sniffing around her. If this is the kind of thing you would rather not write I totally understand.

Here you go, and thanks for the prompt!

So…that Happened

Someone has tampered with the suppressants to make them redundant in National City. The DEO and other scientists rush to fix it, unfortunately everyone is suffering the affect of theirs not working.

Oh I do love a challenge!

Words: 1499

I own nothing and this is in response to a fic request on tumblr. Please send more!

==============

Later, Maxwell Lord would swear that his intention had not been the end result. His goal had been to create a pheromone that would repel non-humans, ostentatiously geared toward pests but suspected to be a bio-weapon against aliens.

What he actually created and subsequently released via ‘lab accident’ caused the suppressants taken by the humans and other species whose biology followed alpha/beta/omega lines to become redundant. Thankfully, the effect had not been able to travel beyond the edge of the city limits.

At first, no one thought anything of it. The product on hand was disposed of and new was brought it. The first cycle was a little rough, but people were at least prepared for it.

The second was worse because everyone thought they were safe.

The DEO, L-Corp, and even CADMUS got to work trying to undo what Lord had done. As the suppressants worked their way out of systems, heats and ruts were rougher and more prevalent. Violence skyrocketed as those unmated and young fought to control urges no longer under their control.

“Alex, you need to sleep.” Kara tugged on her alpha’s shirt. “Please.”

The Kryptonian was a mess. She had been out almost full-stop breaking up and trying to deescalate fights between everyone. She had never seen betas so stressed out trying to keep the peace. The entire city had been placed under quarantine and martial law.

It didn’t help that the closer her heat came, the weaker she was. It wasn’t a solar flare, but she wasn’t superpowered either.

“We need to fix this,” Alex growled. “We can’t keep living like this.” She had already thrashed several other alphas over their leering at Kara.

Kara wrapped her arms around the older woman. “I know,” she whimpered. They weren’t mated yet, although it wasn’t for lack of trying on Kara’s part.

Alex was stubborn.

“I know, but you aren’t going to find the solution if you exhaust yourself. Even Lena’s taking a break, although that might be because otherwise she would be killing her board members.”

“I’ll help her hide the bodies,” Alex grunted. She turned, wrapping her own arms around Kara and burying her face in the blonde’s neck. She took in the omega’s scent and felt her knees buckle. “Rao Kara, how close is your heat?”

Kryptonians only went into heat or rut three times a year. Humans went roughly every six to eight weeks. Alex felt as if she had been in hell for the last six months. The suppressants offered by the DEO were stronger than what was openly available to the public so had lasted longer, but not by much.

“Maybe a few days,” Kara admitted softly. She knew Alex’s rut was even closer, could feel it.

“And you’ve still been out,” Alex felt the growl building in her chest. It was going to be like high school all over again.

“Someone has to be.” James and Winn were out of commission. Many at the DEO were in the same shape. Lucy had already locked herself and Vas up in a cell. J’onn could only be in so many places. M’gann had taken the form of a Green Martian to help him. Nia had been sent home because she had been using her powers to the point of nosebleeds, partly due to the stress of being a beta.

The whole city had gone insane.

“Not you this close to your heat,” Alex insisted. She looked up just in time to catch sight of several agents she knew to be alphas looking into her lap, their focus on the blonde in her arms.

She snarled, showing off the incisors that were sharper with the onset of her rut. Kara was hers. Her hold tightened.

Kara huffed. “We could avoid the posturing if you weren’t so stubborn.”

Alex huffed. “You really want to bind yourself to me?”

“I have since we were teenagers,” Kara nipped at Alex’s neck.

“Kara,” Alex hissed.

Kara whimpered, burying her face into Alex’s neck. “Alex, please.”

Alex grit her teeth. If she gave in…

So what if she did? They weren’t teenagers anymore. They were practically already together.

What was the worst that would happen: they would end up happy?

She was already happiest when she was with Kara.

“Home, now,” Alex growled.

They emerged from the apartment three days later, fresh markings on their necks and far more relaxed than possibly ever. Kara was having a difficult time keeping her feet on the ground. Alex’s hand in hers was probably the only thing keeping her from floating away.

Alex felt the same way. Her mind was buzzing, clearer than it had been in months.

Their calm was broken by their shared best friend storming into Alex’s lab.

“Where the hell have you been?” The frazzled Lena Luthor demanded. She wrinkled her nose as she took them in. “Fucking finally. Have you had any time to look over the latest panels?”

“Just doing so now,” Alex held up the file. “I had an idea…and are you okay?”

Eyes blown, she stared at them as if they had lost their minds. “While you’ve been wallowing in mating bliss, I have come this close,” she held her hand up, “to murdering my entire board, my mother, and every fucking alpha that came within five feet of me.”

“Lena, sweetheart,” Kara took her hand, “your fingers are touching. Have you eaten or slept at all in the last week?”

“Are there any bodies you need help hiding?” Alex glanced up from the files. “And this should work.”

“Alex,” Kara glowered at her. “Lena, let’s get you some food and a bed. Alex can start working on the suppressants while we do that, okay?” Gently, she guided the other woman out of the lab and towards the cafeteria.

“I’m serious about the bodies!” Alex called after them, chuckling at Kara’s indignation and Lena’s comment on keeping it in mind.

She dove into the research Lena had poured her frustrations and stress into. Her beta friend was a genius in many ways, even if she was bad at taking care of herself. It was a good thing they had Kara to take care of them.

Her mate was no slouch in the intelligence department either, and it was Kara who pointed out the missing link in their formula.

They had new suppressants out within four days.

“If he ever leaves the cell you threw him in, remind me to buy out more of his company,” Lena settled back into her chair in the Danvers’ apartment. She raised her wine glass. “To never having to deal with this kind of mess ever again.”

“Here, here!” Alex raised her beer bottle and clinked it against Lena’s glass.

“To us,” Kara added her can of soda to the toast, “and our ability to thwart megalomaniacs with ideas of grandeur.”

Lena snorted. “Yes, and against a supposed genius who got his grand plan from a Saturday morning cartoon.”

Kara snorted. Lena wasn’t far off the mark. She leaned back further against Alex, allowing the scent of her mate to surround her even as Alex’s free arm came up to wrap around her shoulders to bring her even closer.

Lena smirked at them. “You both won me a lot of money and favors, mating when you did.”

Kara giggled. “That’s what Jess said, also something about a vacation on a private island off the coast somewhere?”

“Consider it my wedding gift,” she told them. “There is a wedding to be had, isn’t there?”

Alex held up her wrist where an amber-colored metal bracelet with the El crest now rested. Kara wore a matching one. “This is good enough for me, although my mother might have an issue of no actual ceremony.”

“We can have one,” Kara set her drink aside so she could stretch out on the couch with her head in Alex’s lap. “But I do agree with Alex on not wanting some large affair.”

“So a judge and a few witnesses,” Lena replied.

Both of her friends laughed at the idea. The marks on their necks and the bracelets on their wrists were more than enough for them.

Still…

“Oh please, you two act as if anyone would actually be surprised.” Lena downed her glass. “J’onn has money on the Wednesday three weeks from now. I only beat him out on this by two days.”

Neither questioned how she knew who had bets when.

“Isn’t it cheating if you share that information?” Kara turned her head to look at her. Alex readjusted her hand so she could continue stroking the blonde’s hair.

“Only if I use it for personal gain.”

“You want to make sure James doesn’t win.” Alex smirked at their friend.

“Perhaps,” she smiled smugly at them. “Did you know that Major Lane and Agent Vasquez are expecting? There’s already a pool going on the sex of the pups.”

“Oh we know,” Alex smiled down at Kara. “They aren’t the only ones.”

[almostafantasia]

Lancelot (13/14)

Lexa Woods, an impeccably dressed British secret agent for the covert Kingsman organisation, whose latest mission sees her sneaking through the corridors of the White House in the middle of the night, finds herself having to seduce the daughter of the newly elected President of the United States in a bid to save the world. It’s a surprise to Lexa when she ends up falling for her target as fast as she does, meanwhile Clarke doesn’t expect her gorgeous date for an international political gala dinner to drag her into a world of thrill and danger where one wrong move could cause a global disaster.

a clexa kingsman au | chapter 13/14 read on ao3

Lexa doesn’t know where her jacket is.

It’s clearly not the most pressing issue at the moment, not when there are doctors checking up on each guest, not when there are armed members of the secret service with body armour and riot shields swarming around.

It was a very nice jacket though. The fit was just right and the red velour a striking colour that filled Lexa with confidence. Lexa will be disappointed if she can’t find it and ends up leaving it behind. She doesn’t think she’ll ever have another one like it, not unless she asks the tailors at Kingsman to make another one identical to it, but that would mean having to admit that she’s been careless enough to misplace the first.

Clarke would look good in Lexa’s jacket. It would suit her much better than the oversized men’s jacket she still wears over her dress. Lexa shudders even at the thought of Clarke wearing something that belongs to Roan Azgeda, when there is a perfectly good jacket belonging to Lexa that would keep her just as warm and make her look twice as good.

If only Lexa could locate it…

“Lexa! There you are!”

Lexa’s head snaps up as she hears her own name, to find Anya striding towards her with purpose in each step.

“Have you seen my jacket?” asks Lexa. “It must be around here somewhere.”

“That’s your biggest concern right now?”

Of course it isn’t Lexa’s biggest concern. Lexa is worried that one of the guests will have slipped away without being treated for the poison, she’s worried that she’s going to get arrested and tried for murder even though she only shot Ontari to save everybody else, she’s worried that Clarke won’t forgive her and that she’ll have to live the rest of her life with the knowledge that she’s betrayed the one person she’s allowed herself to truly care about. But it’s easier to suppress all of that and pretend that it’s all about a jacket.

“It’s a nice jacket,” shrugs Lexa. “It would be a shame if I didn’t get to wear it again.”

Anya reaches out and rests her hand on Lexa’s arm.

“You’re allowed to feel things, Lex,” Anya tells her, voice full of concern. “It’s not a weakness.”

Lexa can’t help the way that her gaze flicks across to where Clarke sits next to her father across the room, still huddled up under Roan’s jacket.

“Look where feeling things got me,” Lexa mutters bitterly.

Anya must sense Lexa’s resentment because she swiftly changes the topic.

“Anyway, they’ve arrested Nia Azgeda on her way to JFK to flee the country. She and her son are both going to face charges of treason, attempted murder, and attempted assassination of a President, to name a few.”

“So that’s it?” asks Lexa. “Job done?”

“I think so,” nods Anya.

Lexa pauses, looking around the room at all of the lives she’s saved tonight and wondering why she doesn’t feel better than this about such an accomplishment.

She voices this to Anya.

“Somehow I don’t feel as good as I should about that.”

“Me neither,” admits Anya.

“I think it’s pretty close call as to which of us is Kingsman’s worst agent,” jokes Lexa, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Bullshit,” snorts Anya, shaking her head in disagreement. “It’s very obviously me, by a long way.”

Lexa tries to protest, knowing that this mission has had its fair share of hiccups that have been a direct result of mistakes that she has made.

“But I…”

“Saved the lives of hundreds of people while I was too busy shagging Raven to care,” interrupts Anya, completing Lexa’s sentence before Lexa has the chance to say something self-deprecating about her own involvement in the mission.

Lexa considers Anya’s words and, realising that she doesn’t have the energy to protest, concedes half-heartedly.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“You needed me and I wasn’t there,” says Anya. “And I can only apologise for that and promise you that it won’t happen again.”

“It’s all fine now,” says Lexa. “We did it. We saved all these lives.”

Lexa gestures around the room, to the masses of guests that could have ended tonight as corpses, had it not been for a Kingsman intervention and the quick-thinking and hard work of Lexa and Anya. Lexa shudders even at the thought of it. All it would have taken is for one thing to have gone differently over the last couple of weeks, and there could have been a death toll of more than one here tonight. Lexa doesn’t want to imagine what would have happened if things hadn’t played out like they did, if she hadn’t agreed to go to that bar with Anya and bumped into Clarke again after Merlin specifically forbade them from leaving the hotel.

It’s a dark thought, and Lexa tries to swim away from it by lightening the mood.

“Jesus, I can’t believe I saved the life of a Tory Prime Minister,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically as she watches the British Prime Minister across the room, talking rapidly over a phone.

Anya doesn’t laugh, and Lexa glances up at her oldest friend to find anxiety written all over her face.

Lexa tries to put herself in Anya’s situation and imagines how she would be feeling if it was Clarke who ended up in the back of an ambulance with a bullet in her leg. She knows that she would be beside herself with worry, unable to do anything at all until she had the physical proof that Clarke would make a full recovery. Hell, Lexa is already worried about Clarke’s wellbeing, and the girl only sitting across the room, unharmed by bullets or any other weapons.

“Is Raven going to be okay?” asks Lexa, unsure how Anya is staying so unaffected by it all.

“I think so,” nods Anya. “I wanted to follow her to the hospital but she told me to stay here and make sure that everybody else was okay too. But I phoned the hospital pretending to be her mum and they told me that her condition is stable.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Lexa says truthfully. “You could probably go, you know. I think there’s enough people here to have everything under control. I’m sure Raven would appreciate a familiar face at her side.”

“I don’t know,” shrugs Anya. “I don’t want to abandon you here again. I would die if something happened while I was gone.”

Lexa shakes her head and rests a reassuring hand on Anya’s shoulder.

“Now who’s the one hiding from their feelings?” asks Lexa, shooting Anya a teasing grin.

“Oh, piss off!”

Lexa wakes up to a knock on her hotel room door. A quick glance at the screen of her phone tells her that it’s just gone four thirty in the afternoon - she’s slept for nearly ten hours, but Lexa’s eyes are still heavy with tiredness.

Lexa is far too exhausted to give a shit about her appearance. She still wears the clothes from last night, or at least the shirt and trousers, both crumpled and a little blood-spattered and not at all appropriate for answering the door in. But the list of people who could be at her door is only three: Anya or Merlin here to update her on the arrangement for leaving America now that their job here is done; or one of the hotel’s maids who, Lexa reasons, has probably seen some much weirder stuff than a little blood on a guest’s shirt.

The person outside knocks again, and Lexa reluctantly hauls herself up onto her feet and trudges over to the door, where she unlocks it with a click and turns the handle to open it.

“Um, hi.”

It’s Clarke. Not Anya, not Merlin, definitely not a maid, but Clarke. Lexa wishes now more than ever that she had taken the time to shower and change her clothes before she fell asleep. In comparison, Clarke looks as clean and as fresh-faced as she would if she hadn’t had the night that she did at the gala dinner.

“Clarke,” says Lexa, trying not to show how surprised she is to find Clarke outside her hotel room. “I … uh, I fell asleep as soon I got back here. I was completely wiped out.”

Clarke glances down at Lexa’s attire and nods once.

“I can see that. Can I come in?”

Lexa steps aside immediately and Clarke takes hesitant steps past her and into the hotel room. Clarke hovers near the door, not quite making herself at home, and Lexa is left feeling only even more awkward about the way they left things last. It seems strange to be this careful around each other, especially given the memories they made in this very room just days ago after their date, but Lexa has to remind herself that Clarke has every right to still be angry at her.

“Clarke, I just want to start by saying that I’m so…”

“No,” Clarke interrupts her. “You don’t get to apologise yet. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this - thinking about you - and I’ve practiced ten different versions of what I want to say to you, so you don’t get to say anything until I’ve got this out.”

Lexa closes her mouth and nods obediently, waiting for Clarke to say her piece.

“I’ve been trying to get my head around why you lied,” admits Clarke. She lets out a sigh, then continues animatedly, “Like, it frustrated the fuck out of me at first. I thought we had something special and how dare you think you could play me like that? But also, how could I be stupid enough to fall for that?”

Lexa wants nothing more than to interject, to tell Clarke that they do have something special, that she hasn’t been able to think about anything but Clarke since they first stumbled into each other in the halls of the White House. But she knows that Clarke still has so much more to say, and Lexa forcibly keeps her mouth closed and saves her apologies and explanations until Clarke gives her permission to speak.

“If you said to me that you needed to be at the dinner because of your mission, I would have invited you in an instant,” continues Clarke. “You must have known that!”

Though she stays silent, Lexa gives a little nod in response.

“And that’s when it hit me,” says Clarke. “You wanted that date. You wanted an ‘us’ that was more than me just being a girl you met on a mission.”

Lexa’s eyes start to prickle with tears, and an uncomfortable lump forms in her throat, making it difficult for her to swallow.

Clarke continues, her voice softer and more thoughtful than before, and her blue eyes boring into Lexa.

“Our date and that night we spent together felt incredibly real and I don’t think it would have happened like that if you’d just asked me to take you to the gala dinner. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. Because the only other option that makes sense is that you saw an opportunity to play me and get laid, and I really hope it wasn’t that.”

Lexa shakes her head and wipes at the tears in her eyes before they have a chance to spill down her cheeks. This conversation is important and it’s going to be difficult enough without having to force the words out past wave after wave of tears.

“I told you that I don’t do this often,” confesses Lexa. “I don’t do feelings.”

Lexa’s knee twinges in pain and she grits her teeth as she mentally wills her old injury to go back to sleep, before she continues talking.

“There have been girls on missions before, but that’s always been easy,” Lexa tells Clarke. “There’s things that you can say to make a girl swoon, things you can do to push the right buttons and get what you want, and that’s easy because it’s a routine that I’ve practiced before. It’s easy because I have no personal investment in those girls.”

“But you do in me?” asks Clarke, her eyebrows raised.

There’s something that looks like hope in her eyes - a glimmer that reignites something within Lexa’s chest, a feeling that maybe there is still a chance to make things right with Clarke.

But of course there is still a chance. Clarke wouldn’t have come here if there wasn’t at least a small part of her still holding out for Lexa. It would have been way too easy to ignore Lexa, to let her fly back to England and forget about her entirely. The fact that she’s here says as much as any words could do.

It’s especially important for Lexa to get this right. Clarke has been kind enough to give her a chance to explain herself, and Lexa will berate herself for a long time if she takes that opportunity and fucks it up beyond repair.

“From the very second I first saw you, I knew I was in trouble,” admits Lexa, recalling their first meeting and the fluttering in her chest she felt when she first laid eyes on Clarke. “I don’t want to call it love at first sight, but I could feel some kind of connection straight away.”

Clarke is quiet for a few seconds, and she takes a seat on the end of Lexa’s bed, before she finally concedes, “I felt it too.”

Lexa’s heart flips just like it did that very first time, in inexplicable rush of excitement in her chest at Clarke’s admission that their first meeting had the same effect on her too.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this yet, but I was wearing an earpiece that night,” says Lexa, smiling to herself at the memory. “I had Anya howling with laughter in my ear the entire time I was trying to make an impression on you, because even she knew that you were going to ruin me. And then ever since, I’ve had the real Anya reminding me that this is a mission, that you weren’t allowed to be anything more than another mark.”

“So really, Anya is the one I should be mad at right now?” asks Clarke.

“No,” says Lexa, shaking her head. “Because if it weren’t for Anya, I never would have been in the bar that night, and I wouldn’t have asked you to get me into the White House again, and I definitely wouldn’t have asked you out on that date. Without Anya, I would have run away from my feelings and never spoken to you again.”

Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together in thought.

“So should I be throwing a drink in Anya’s face, or buying her a thank you card?”

Lexa blushes a little bit at the reference to last night, remembering the feeling of the cool drink hitting her face and the betrayed look on Clarke’s face right before she stormed away. It doesn’t quite seem like that was only less than twenty four hours ago. So much has happened since then that Lexa feels as though an entire lifetime has passed since.

“I guess it depends what happens next,” answers Lexa, shrugging her shoulders.

Lexa knows what she wants to happen next. And if she gets her own way - if Clarke agrees that she wants to put things behind them and try to move forward together - Lexa thinks that maybe she will be the one who owes Anya and thank you card.

“When do you fly out?” asks Clarke.

“In the next couple of days, I think,” replies Lexa.

She hasn’t yet spoken to Anya or Merlin since she returned to the hotel very early this morning, but Lexa doesn’t think that they’ll be staying in America long. The events of last night will likely be plastered all over the media and it’s unlikely that Merlin will let them stick around for long enough to get their faces associated with it all. Besides, now that their mission is over, there’s no longer a reason to stay over here.

(It’s a lie. There is a reason, and her name is Clarke Griffin.)

“And I’m supposed to return to college tomorrow afternoon,” Clarke adds. She lets out a disheartened sigh, and then says, “It feels a lot like the universe is working against us.”

Lexa’s heart catches in her throat. She almost doesn’t want to believe what Clarke has said, wants to think that it’s just a product of her own hopeful imagination. Because it sounds a lot like Clarke has just admitted she wants to make things work with Lexa.

“Am I forgiven?” Lexa dares to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clarke pushes herself up into a standing position and her hands reach out to seek Lexa’s hips, fingers gripping tightly as soon as she makes contact like she never wants to let Lexa go.

“You idiot,” exhales Clarke. “Of course you’re forgiven.”

The way their lips crash together is inescapable, like the opposite poles of two magnets unable to stop themselves from flying together. Lexa nearly starts crying right there - she thought she had lost Clarke, thought that her own actions might have pushed Clarke away for good - and the noise that slips from her lips as she suppresses those tears ends up sounding like a choked whimper.

The noise seems to encourage Clarke. She takes two steps backwards and sits on the end of the bed again, and the hand on Lexa’s hips cling impossibly tighter. Lexa finds herself leaning forward as Clarke sits down, lips still unwilling to leave Clarke’s even for a second. There’s a moment where Lexa thinks that she’s free-falling, a split-second in which gravity seems to take over and the only thing tethering Lexa to reality is Clarke’s touch on her hips and on her mouth, but it’s over in a flash. Lexa finds herself sitting in Clarke’s lap as Clarke pulls her forward even further, until Lexa’s full body is pretty much covering Clarke’s on the bed.

It would be so easy to get lost in each other, to keep kissing until long after hands wander and clothes come flying off, but Lexa knows herself well enough to know that there’s a high chance that she’ll either burst into tears or pass out within moments of orgasming, and she isn’t ready for that just yet.

They still have a lot left to discuss.

“Wait, wait, stop,” Lexa mumbles against Clarke’s lips, forcibly lifting her head and rolling off Clarke’s body to the side. “We should figure this out first.”

“Buzzkill,” says Clarke, rolling her eyes and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand as she sits up. “No, I’m kidding. You’re right.”

Lexa moves to sit on the edge of the bed, putting a little bit of distance between them so that Clarke and her distractingly kiss-hazed eyes aren’t right there in Lexa’s immediate vicinity. She needs a clear head for this next part of the conversation, and that won’t happen if she and Clarke are practically on top of each other.

“I have something else to tell you,” confesses Lexa. “I don’t work for MI6.”

Clarke’s mouth falls open and she frowns at Lexa in confusion, before she asks, “You don’t-? But if you’re not a secret agent then-”

“I work for an organisation called Kingsman,” explains Lexa. She laughs to herself, then adds, “I don’t know if I’m even allowed to tell you this but I’m fed up of lying to you. Actually, I think Kingsman is probably so secret that it wouldn’t even count as treason to tell you about it.”

“What’s Kingsman?” asks Clarke.

“A secret intelligence organisation based in London,” clarifies Lexa. “Most of what I told you is completely true. I really did join the army straight out of school but had to drop out because of injury. Then Anya, who I had known since school and was already working for Kingsman, put my name forward for the recruitment tests. I passed and they offered me this job. I became Agent Lancelot.”

“So you’re a secret secret agent?” asks Clarke, a trace of awe in her voice.

Lexa nods, her lips twitching up into a little smile.

“I guess so. And I’m sorry for lying to you. About this and about the dinner.”

“Lucky for you, I really like you,” smiles Clarke, reaching out to take one of Lexa’s hands.

“Are we going to make this work?” Lexa asks hopefully. “It’s a five hour time difference when I’m back in London.”

Clarke shrugs, and then says, “Could be worse.”

Lexa laughs softly under her breath, because it most definitely will get worse than that.

She tries to explain this to Clarke.

“Of course, there’s no guarantee how long I’ll be in London for, or even where I end up going next,” says Lexa. “Or if I would be able to contact you at all. When I’m really deep undercover it sometimes isn’t safe.”

Clarke’s face falls a little bit, apparently having been so caught up in the excitement of making up after their disagreement that she had forgotten the nature of Lexa’s work and the fact that she might be constantly travelling all over the globe.

“That sucks,” admits Clarke dejectedly. She glances up at Lexa, a glimmer of positivity in her eyes as she adds, “But I’m not the kind of person who needs to be texting somebody I’m into all the time.”

“No, me neither.”

Clarke grins and holds one of her hands up in the air, palm facing Lexa.

“High five to maintaining healthy relationship boundaries.”

Lexa can’t help the bubble of laughter that leaves her throat, and she awkwardly lifts her own hand to press a soft palm against Clarke’s.

Clarke blushes, realising what she’s just done, and mumbles, “Sorry, that was weird. Carry on.”

“Right,” says Lexa, trying what they were talking about before the high five. “We wouldn’t be able to talk all the time, and we definitely wouldn’t get to see much of each other.”

“I could come and visit you,” suggests Clarke. “I get three months off for summer. I could spend some of that with you.”

“And I’ve been working a lot this year,” adds Lexa. “I’m due some time off this summer.”

Clarke reaches for one of Lexa’s hands, much less awkwardly than the last time their palms met, and laces her fingers through Lexa’s.

“We’re actually doing this,” says Clarke, with the air of a giddy child about her voice as she speaks. “We’re going to make this work.”

“I have no idea what’s going to happen in the long term,” confesses Lexa, “but we’ve got the short term figured out. The rest we can work out as we go.”

Clarke pulls on their connected hands, encouraging Lexa to come closer again, and Lexa is too weak around Clarke to do anything but comply. She settles on top of Clarke again, this time with Clarke’s legs wrapped around her waist and locked at the ankle behind Lexa’s hips, effectively trapping her in place. Not that Lexa minds. It’s a very nice place to be trapped.

“As for the super short term…” says Clarke, tipping backwards until her back hits the mattress and bringing Lexa with her.

“Oh, you have some ideas about that too?” teases Lexa, her face just inches from Clarke’s as she uses one of her arms to prop up her body weight.

“First of all, we’re going to take a shower,” says Clarke, rocking her hips up so that her pelvis grinds against Lexa’s lower stomach.

“We are?”

“Yeah,” says Clarke, curling a hand around the back of Lexa’s head and drawing her closer so that she can whisper into Lexa’s ear, as if she’s imparting some big secret that needs to be kept from the rest of the world, “and then I’m going to take you to bed and fuck you stupid. Then you’re going to let me take you out to dinner, and after that we’re going to come back here and have sex again. And probably again after that.”

Lexa’s brain short-circuits at the phrase “fuck you stupid” and she barely registers the content of the rest, only Clarke’s husky voice and the obvious implications of her words from the way that her hips slowly move and seek out contact from Lexa’s body.

“I really like this plan,” says Lexa, her voice breathy with arousal.

Clarke grins at the admission.

“Why don’t we move this to the shower and you can show me just how much you like it?”

“Is Raven okay?”

The question comes to Lexa’s mind when she’s naked in bed, tangled around Clarke and the bedsheets, some time after round three has reached its conclusion. Somewhere along the way, the idea of Clarke taking Lexa out to dinner became forgotten, and a cart once laden with room service stands at the foot of the bed, now carrying plates of half-eaten food and an empty bottle of champagne that Clarke insisted on ordering to celebrate saving the world.

“That’s the first thing you have to say after I make you cum?” asks Clarke, propping herself up on one elbow while the fingers of the other hand brush stray curls out of Lexa’s face.

“I mean,” admits Lexa, “I’m feeling guilty that I’m here enjoying this - enjoying you - and she’s stuck in a hospital bed with a bullet in her leg.”

“They took the bullet out in surgery,” Clarke tells Lexa, her hand still absently playing with Lexa’s hair, curling loose strands around her fingertips. “Last I heard, she was high on pain meds and trying to persuade Anya to dress up as a sexy nurse.”

Lexa snorts to herself.

“I bet Anya loved that.”

“I think if Raven hadn’t just come out of theatre, Anya might have been less sympathetic,” grins Clarke.

“I’ll try and visit her before I leave for England,” says Lexa, voicing her thoughts aloud. “It’s mostly my fault that she got shot.”

“When do you fly back?” asks Clarke, a trace of sadness in her voice.

“I don’t know,” confesses Lexa, nestling her head against Clarke’s shoulder and draping her arm across Clarke’s bare stomach beneath the cotton sheet that shields their sweaty bodies from the chill of the hotel room. “Within the next day or two, I would guess. And you go back to college in the afternoon?”

“Mmm.”

Lexa lifts herself from Clarke so that she can reach for the phone on the nightstand, unlocking the screen to check the time. It’s just gone midnight, and time is passing much faster than Lexa would like.

“But,” says Clarke, rolling Lexa onto her back and covering Lexa’s body with her own as she nuzzles her face into Lexa’s neck and sends a hand lower, “I don’t plan on sleeping tonight until I’ve had you at least twice more…”

“Clarke, I’m not sure I can go again,” protests Lexa, even as her legs fall open to let Clarke’s exploratory fingers dip into her folds, still wet and sensitive from the last round.

“Sure you can,” sniggers Clarke, sucking the skin of Lexa’s neck between her teeth as her fingers tease and probe.

Clarke, Lexa quickly decides in that moment, is going to be the death of her.

Lexa can’t wait.

[burstbombbitch]

don't chase the rabbit >:0

      Don’t chase the rabbit. || ⚜       please do n’t send more right now lmfao

      ❝Step aside.❞

He laughed at his own joke; she couldn’t, could she? Not with her hands around his, desperately prying at the grip he had on her face.

Blinded by the palm pressed against her visage, and ensnared by the digits that dug deeply into her head, Bon’s teeth—ineffectively snapping at what flesh she could try to get at—do nothing more than become a gritted scowl.

Through his fingers, she could see her team being wiped. She could hear her heart plummeting into the depths of her being. This wasn’t anything new, but like this brutish Inkling, it still held her with a cold, harsh grip. The taut grasp on his hand weakens as resolve bleeds out her veins. The shine of the rainmaker advancing garnered a breathy sigh of despair, and the fight in her finally fails, her hands falling to her side.

❝Fuck you,❞ she wheezed. Who knew that those were the magic words for her descent? Contact was relatively rough, and no amount of clenched teeth could withhold the shrill screech of a damaged nose. With his hand now on the back of her head, pressing her face into the edge of Mahi-Mahi’s land, the little pinkling got a bountiful view of her leakage. Oh, oh, that was a lot of ink… Desperate peripherals acknowledged the nasty smile that spread this squid’s lips from ear to ear. Her team wasn’t coming. No one was; they had to defend the pedestal. If one could call their pitiful, three-person beat-down a defense.

      ❝Something tells me you’re too young for that kinda language, brat.❞

      ❝’m here, aren’t I? Old ‘nough. S-So… Play fair!❞

      ❝You just proved my point.❞

He didn’t do her the justice of raising her head from the ground. She’d have to do that for herself while he pulled her tentacles closer to the water-logged edge.

      ❝Let me clean up your act.❞

She held her breath. Rightfully so. Tightly closed eyes still felt the pressure of sifting waters knocking along her cranium. The ink of her running nose faded into obscurity with the liquid’s cleansing properties. Rolling bubbles danced atop the broken surface tension, exacerbated by her inability to retain air. Only when the oxygen pockets would halt did he relent, yanking her out of the wet clutches of her demise. Instinctively, her mouth flies open, gasps sufficing in her desperate gathering of air. Upon seeing her go for gulps, the inkling plummets her back into the shimmering water. ❝Now, now,❞ he laughed. ❝I didn’t say you could do that! What if you were to be nasty to me again? That’d hurt my feelings.❞

His habit of pulling her out right when her struggle relented was tiresome. She would’ve preferred a graceful splat. The next two dips were given significantly less fight, and his boredom was evident when he yanks her out for the second-to-last time.

      ❝You’re pretty quiet now, squiddo.❞

Tired eyes, lacking their usual light, merely gaze through him. The most she can garner is hocking up a glob of her ink, only to spit it directly into his eye. Her quivering, shivering chest and frame couldn’t handle any more liquid. Just splat her already. And judging by the way a new fire illuminated the horizon of his face, it was coming soon.

Whatever he was saying… whatever unremitting castigation she was to endure, she couldn’t comprehend. The only thing blurrier than her eyesight was her ears. Everything sounded… unusually waterlogged. She could hear the liquid still sloshing about, drowning her every thought. Even when he shook her, demanding her attention, she couldn’t relinquish such a waning currency. Wary eyes drifted to a complete close, flickering open every now and then, before clarity rashly smacked her into consciousness for a second longer.

      ❝Guess we’re done here. Don’t let me catch you sneaking in here again, squib.❞

Weightlessly, her body was launched into the shimmering teal liquid of the resort. She hardly put up a fight. Her soul left her easily as the referee ended the match with the fish on the pedestal.

      How many years had it been since that fateful day? It felt all so recent, albeit her brain was the culprit for that. That memory, those feelings, her hatred… it flooded her like the water she had been tossed into.

Amidst the idle conversation of competitors, her brows lower in their eerie tranquility. Out went the lights that defined her pupils. Slowly, her own misery lacerates a small opening betwixt her lips. Nia’s jubilant chuckles preceded a few pats along her shoulder. Speech bounced off her ears, the reminiscent liquid choking their only entry points.

      ❝Oh, you’ve played with Bonbon before?❞

      ❝Holy—yeah, ha ha. I did. She might not remember me; she looked like she just managed her human form then. Woo. She actually S+ now?❞

      ❝Yeah, dude. C'mon! She’s older than that, y'know! Isn’t that right, Bonnie?❞

Laughter was hard to parse, even when the chill of her friend’s chortles usually calmed her. All she could hear was his, and time had hardly molded his pitch into anything more than a turbulent storm. Her smile was motionless. Nia’s face folded tightly in her doubt. Narrowed eyes questioned Bonbon’s stability, but the signal for their dispersal resounded abruptly. Time for them to get ready.

Roll-out was normal. Rush to the center of Kelp Dome, as always. Jump on the Zone. Bonbon and Nia assisted one another, while the fellow twin squad went their separate ways. Once enough lines were made for Nia’s advance, Bon took her leave… into the enemy base. Squints of skepticism tightened the Carbon’s face. Her feelings of dismay didn’t leave her, but she would have to trust that Bon knew what she was doing. It would be strange to fight without her assistance, but… she would make due. Away she went.

The looming threat of a Charger slinking into enemy territory was disregarded with ease. The enemy team’s rationale was sound—if they didn’t see the E-Liter on its perch, it was safe to say they were down. Why would they ever attempt to flank in such a risky map, where the only good perch they could take was always in enemy sight? Accounting for the more unusual cases was more effort than need be.

It was dreadfully unfortunate that, for once, such caution would have been appreciated.

Patience was a virtue she was always proud to harbor, for it always came to fruition no matter the circumstance. Squid after squid, respawn after respawn, her team did efficiently without her. She was not splatting anyone—something that she’d surely have to apologize for in the long run—but Nia was always good with locking people out once she was set up. She knew her darling well.

Self-restraint rewarded itself with a glimpse of her target. As he was falling from the ledge of spawn, she stepped forward. For a moment, he merely batted an eye, mistaking her in his haste for their own charger, but the contact of a gas tank along his cranium was enough to garner second thoughts.

The splash of his collapse into his own ink went unheard, overlapped by the disheveling sound of blunt force trauma. He could feel his skull shivering from the blow. A struggling arm shakily bolstered his weight, legs sprawled out before him as a bowed head underwent fervid rubs.

      ❝H-Hey, man, what’re you—hold up. You’re not—❞

From this angle, her shadow engulfed his slumped person, extended only by the weapon being incorrectly held up high by the barrel.

      ❝I do remember you. Oh, my love, how could I ever forget.❞

Wide eyes took in a gaze that easily beat his through sheer loathing alone. Quickly, he curls into himself, protecting his head from more hits. Thankful was he, if only because her target was more general—she whacked away at the center of his being, further disheveling a queasy stomach. Oh, how melodious his cries were! T’was like the gentle brush of practiced fingers down the keys of a piano. Perhaps, if she could ponder a song, she could align his torment into a harmony. She loved a good hymn, after all.

So then why? Why was her baton stopped prematurely? She was not done conducting, even if the squid she drummed upon had long become quiet and unresponsive.

Her body, rigid and tense, retains its inflexibility as her head nigh creaks to gaze at the interloper.

—Nia.

     ❝Bonbon, what… what are you doing? I’ve been—❞

Narrowed eyes interrogate the flickering stars they gazed into. Black fought against white, aptly appearing like… static. Even the radio silence she received was reminiscent of a screen devoid of broadcast. Furrowed brows lightened up in their shock, similar to her grip on the tank of the E-Liter. In that moment, the beast turned back, preparing another swing on their foe. Nia proved, as always, to be faster to the draw with her Carbon.

Up rose the enemy squid’s soul. He’d be back. Refreshed from his agony, albeit the memory that it accompanied was not one to be displaced. A sigh of relief contrasted deeply with Bon’s guttural growl. Nia would get to her feet, turning to placate her friend, only to gasp as a swing is hastily dodged. Clarification that they were on the same team did nothing—the sniper seemed dead set on taking another blow out on someone else.

Her Carbon becomes, for the first time, a defensive tool. A few swings aimed for her head are deflected by the roller, until the last attempt ends in the charger finally being launched from Bon’s hands. That alone doesn’t seem to hinder the onslaught, for the monster leaps at her with both hands outstretched.

All Nia does is raise her arms defensively, her face scrunching up in anticipation, but no contact is made. Slowly, eyes that clenched in preparation open, watching as two referees pinned the rabid Inkling down by her arms. Nia’s breathing is deep, her chest heaving to its maximum incline compared to Bon’s faster inhalations, accompanied by loud wheezes and hisses. The only thing to describe the display… was animalistic. It was unrefined, a word she’d never think would go in conjunction with the prissy princess. And yet, there she was, baring fangs whilst struggling in their grip with all of her might. A third referee intervenes upon request when it comes to light that even her petite form required another hold on her feet.

Amidst her gurgled screams were choked laughs and sobs. Their pitch was eerily high, unlike her natural titters, and frequently interrupted by more hasty huffs. Streaks of black melted down her ‘mask’, trailing her round cheeks and soiling the static-heavy lights of her bio-luminescence. The ink that coated her gear was not from the way they bodily brought her to the ground, but the actions that she had partook in moments before her demise. Nia’s eyes fell to a close, turning her head away as they escorted the child off the field. Her lip undergoes a light gnawing treatment as the other contestants make their way over to where the incident took place.

Their inquiries go unanswered. It was impossible to convey what she herself hardly understood.