#They have no idea what they should be feeling that Kryptonite can cause someone to get drunk

[leafyeyes417]

Danny sat on a rooftop feeling confused. It was currently 3 days later than he last remembered. That was 3 DAYS with no memory of anything. He didn’t even know what city he was in. The only thing he is sure of is that it wasn’t mind control. His experience with Freakshow let him know that.

Along with this feeling more similar to the time his mom shoved high proof cleaning alcohol that was ectofied in his face during an excited rant. The fumes alone had him missing a few hours. Luckily Jazz was there and kept his blackout drunk self entertained.

So the question was, where the hell was he and what did he do?! Also, what caused him to blackout? Last he remembered he was in Metropolis and he got nearly hit in the head with a green glowing stone that he only vaguely could tell was somehow not ectoradium. After that? Nothing.

Aka: Kryptonite is highly compressed ectoplasm and causes Danny to get black out drunk just by being in its vicinity.

P.S. I also would love to see what chaos you think Danny would get up to lol

[mrsdesade]

What about some Homelander x needy fem reader smut? He made her cry and then he goes soft on her? :)

Say no more anon, here's something for you! It will definitely be something long because I liked the idea so much!

Afterparty;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (Ophera as usual) TW: NSFW, mention of drugs, teasing, smut, fluff, aftercare Words count: 2,6k

You and Homelander are attending a night party hosted by Vought, a grand event where the company's high-profile visitors and staff gather to mingle and celebrate.

Was as extravagant as ever, with celebrities, influencers, investors, and a few lucky civilians gathered together in an opulent ballroom. Laughter and music filled the air as people mingled around, engaging in small talk and celebrating.

You've had plenty of conversations, meetings with executives and public appearances with Homelander. By the looks of it, you've both done your part to keep up the public image that Vought has made of you two.

Exausting.

As the night starts slowly to wind down, you find yourselves with a brief moment alone. Homelander looks at you with a mix of tiredness and relief, as if he can finally let his guard down now that you two are out of the spotlight.

"Goddamn, these parties are a pain. I know they're important for the image, but dealing with all those people trying to win my favor… it's starting to wear me down."

He lets out a frustrated huff, his eyes flitting over the crowd around you.

"I swear I could snap the neck of the next person who comes up to me asking for an autograph or a selfie..."

You simply let out a little laugh, but your eyes are wandering around, and your arms are crossed at your stomach, you seem distracted.

Homelander notices the hint of something amiss in your laughter, his sharp senses picking up on the fact that you're not quite comfortable.

"Hey, you alright? You're not your usual self tonight."

''I think I drank too much, I've been feeling strange ever since the party began...but I only drank two glasses of champagne, alcohol usually doesn't cause me problems.''

It's clear that something is wrong, the more he looks at you, the more the signs of your discomfort are visible. Under the beautiful make-up that has been done on you, your cheeks are red, and a few small drops of sweat slide down your temple. Quite strange, since it's December, outside is snowing.

"Two glasses of champagne shouldn't have that kind of effect on you. You're a damn superhero, and a strong one. Are you seriously getting ill from some champagne? I was waiting for a more epic weakness, you know? Something like kryptonite, I don't know."

''If you're here to make fun of me you can go back to the party. Fuck, they must have mixed some kind of drug in my drink. Maybe something that would kill a human has that effect on me. That's the only explanation I have..."

''Someone was stupid enough to drug you? I should find whoever did it and rip their damn head off."

''You're not helping me.''

Your look of disapproval is eloquent, you would like to explain the situation to him better, but you can't do it explicitly. He seems really stupid to you right now. You're holding your chest tight with your arms, your legs are shaking slightly and for the first time you're struggling to stand on your heels.

"What do you want me to do, hold your hand and comfort you? I'm not exactly known for my tender side, you know."

Despite his words, he comes closer to support you with a hands on your back, it seems like you could fall to your knees at any moment.

But immediately he can feel your skin unnaturally warm to the touch. It's at that moment that he starts to notice something unusual, a change in your demeanor. Your breathing is rapid and shallow, and your eyes have a glassy look.

Homelander's eyes widen in realization, as he finally connects the dots.

''...those bastards. They have put an aphrodisiac in your drink.''

''Wow, It took you a while to understand, men never think about these things, I honestly envy you.''

The situation is quite embarrassing for you, but you still manage to want to make fun of him. You have found a stable and comfortable position holding on to his arm, everything seems normal to the people around you, but you know that you will be able to control yourself only for a short time.

He notices the change in your behavior, feeling your hand gripping tighter onto his arm, and the proximity of your body next to his. He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure.

"Yeah, laugh it up. But you're the one who's struggling to stand still. How the hell did they pull something like this off? I thought Vought security was supposed to prevent something like this from happening."

It's clear that you're not listening to him, you feel the warm from your legs coming up to your throat. You bite your lower lip trying to think as little as possible, but your gaze falls on his hands, causing your mind to drift to absolutely less pure thoughts.

"What are you looking so intently at my hands?''

You lean in a bit closer to him, your playful demeanor turns more tempting, and your voice lowers to a sultry tone, his right hand still holding onto your waist and your running up on his fingers.

''Can't you imagine?''

Homelander tries to maintain his cool demeanor, but he's failing miserably.

Your fingers continue to softly caress his hand, tracing circles on his knuckles, adding to the tension between you two. You take a small step closer, your body now almost pressed against his, and look up at him through your eyelashes, a sly smile on your lips.

"All the things I'm holding myself back from asking you to do to me right now."

His mind suddenly fills with images of what you're hinting at. But he remained silent, faking a smile to the guest who are still walking around the room.

''Come on Homelander, let's get away from this party. I need you. I crave your touch. On me. In me.''

Your lips ghost along his jawline, pressing the promise of a kiss near his ear. You know exactly what to say to convince him, even If your mind is not completely clear, you know what you want and how to get it.

"Please, I'm begging you."

His self-control is about to snap.

''Fine, let's get out of here before I lose my damn mind. Follow my lead and act natural."

He starts guiding you towards the exit, with a certain urgency, casually nodding to guests and saying brief goodbyes as you make your way out of the room.

As you make your way through the crowd, you try your best to act normal and compose yourself, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the facade. Finally, he finds a secluded corridor and leads you into an empty room, shutting the door behind him.

The moment the door closes, the illusion of control shatters. The tension that have been building up between you two throughout the night reach their peak, and he takes a step forward but you are the first to close the distance and kiss him. Your body wants nothing more than him, the effect of the drug is getting worse and although you haven't said anything, your body language is more than eloquent.

The sight and feel of you, craving for him so openly, is intoxicating.

"God, you're too damn beautiful, Ophera. I've never saw you so messy and needy... only for me.''

''Oh, just for one time, could you just shut up and use your hands for something useful?''

"Eager, aren't we? Don't worry, I'll gladly indulge you.''

He wastes no time in doing as you demand. Your sparkling red dress falls to the floor, but the heat you feel continues to increase, you feel his hands descend on you, and his fierce kisses forbid you to breathe.

He pushes your legs apart with one hand, then he starts caressing you, making you release a sudden moaned whimper. The feel of his leather clad fingers moving so slowly it immediately brings you closer to the edge.

Ridiculous, how is this possible? You think. Ah, yes, that's right, the aphrodisiac, this sensation is like nothing you've ever felt. But it feels so freaking good.

His two fingers slides inside of you, he's enjoying the idea of torturing you. He can feel himself hardening more with every wet sound and moan from you, but driving you insane is going to be way more fun for him than sharing a temporary pleasure.

''...look at you, so needy just for my fucking fingers. You are truly shameless.''

Back against a cold wall, hands on his shoulders, balancing precariously on your heels while your legs tremble and your mind doesn't think clearly, this time he's in control. He's the one in charge.

Time begins to pass. Half an hour, an hour, two, three.

You're whining, you're moaning, and it sounds gorgeous.

What you don't know, is that from the exact moment he saw tears appear in your eyes, he wants to see you cry in his arms. He want to see you desperate for pleasure. You're nearly scream his name.

''You're making such a good show for me, keep going. Keep going...''

He’s enjoying how you’re desperately thrusting against him. Begging him do not stop. Ah yes, sxx between superheroes, durability is the key word to having an extreme fun. Or extreme pleasure. Y'know.

At a certain point you feel his hand move away a little, perhaps his intention was to move on to something more substantial, more thicker. But you immediately block him by grabbing his wrist. Your eyes meet again, and you really are a beautiful mess.

''Don't you dare...to stop...''

''You’ve had thirty orgasms. I'm at zero. How greedy you are.''

Bastard. He’s been keeping count.

''I don't care...touch me again, only one more time. Please...''

Your mind, now overwhelmed by ecstasy, having now the most intense moment of your life. It seems like you can't get enough, and here's his chance to get what he wants. He wants to see you cry.

''Then beg for it.''

His hand that he had leaning against the wall now comes violently wrapped around your neck. Since he can't satisfy himself, he decides that he will have fun in another way. Can't have the pleasure? Then he will have violence. Both are perfect.

Your legs are shaking again and your breath becoming more shallow. You murmur his name in short moans, begging him as he ordered, eyes closed as your makeup slowly begins to run on your cheeks, accompanied by a few small tears.

He is extremely fascinated by you in that moment, you're so lost in pleasure, so desperate for his touch to the point of crying.

''Homelander...''

You cried out as your body finally release, another orgasm coming down hard from your desperate wait. Your body shudders as your walls squeeze tighter around his fingers.

Then he pause, fingers slip out, he stopped for a second looking at you, still lost in the pleasure aftershocks.

Your body is drained of energy, your breathing ragged. You are too tired to speak, the intense moments you’ve experienced leaving you breathless. Your body feels weary and heavy, the afterglow of your passionate encounter still lingering in your core. And then your legs give out, and you stumble, risking falling, but the fact that he is in front of you, saves you.

''Hey-- you feel good? It was too much?''

He asked a bit worried, his arm wrapped securely around you.

A small, weary smile curves your lips, acknowledging his unexpected concern.

''Are you serious? It was...incredible. I assure you I'm fine, more than fine. Just a bit tired.''

He holds you firmly against him, his strong arms encircling your trembling body. He notices your exhaustion and the way your legs give out, nearly toppling over.

''Don't lie to me, tell me If there's something wrong.''

''Dear, I'm being more than sincere right now, do I seem regretful or unsatisfied? I don't think so.''

You laughed, taking him off guards with your spontaneity.

''Well--uhm, yeah okay, good. Now, let's get back to my apartment. The effect of the aphrodisiac has worn off, and soon you will feel cold with only this fancy dress on.''

''Sure...let's get back to the 99 floor.''

You try to move away from him a little, just a little to walk to the door, but you feel the balance missing and you fall back with your hands resting on his shoulders. Your expression is tired but amused, you find funny even a moment like this.

''Where do you think you're going? Come here, you tired diva. You don't have to walk, I'll carry you.''

He lifts you in his arms carrying you as you weigh nothing, and then he let out a short phrase whispered with kindness.

''I'll take care of you.''

He pauses for a moment, realizing the unfamiliar words that just slipped out of his lips. He clears his throat, trying to cover up the unexpected softness in his voice.

Your reaction is one of mild surprise mixed with a hint of amusement. You look at him with a sly smile, raising an eyebrow. Knowing damn well that he's not used to doing such things.

''Oh, what happened to the tough, domineering Homelander? Suddenly, you're acting all caring and loving.''

"Listen, why do you have to be so annoying?"

Homelander rolls his eyes in response to your playful remark. He knows you caught him in a moment of unexpected tenderness.

''Don't get used to it, doll. This is a one-time exception.''

You let out a small, satisfied laugh at his response, knowing you got under his skin again, like usual.

''Oh come on, lighten up. It's quite charming, you know. You playing the concerned and gentle lover.''

''Concerned and gentle lover, that's not really my thing, if you didn't notice.''

He watches you with a hint of skepticism, waiting for your next smart answer.

''So why did you put your cloak around my shoulders when you lifted me up? It was a spontaneous gesture and you didn't even notice it.''

Homelander froze for a moment, caught off guard by your observation. It was true, he had subconsciously done that without even thinking. He lets out a defeated sigh, realizing that you know that he cares, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

''Fine, you win. I didn't like seeing you shivering. And maybe because I…care.''

"Aww, who would have thought? The great Homelander, soft? For me? How unexpected. Maybe I should thank the one who put the drugs in my drink, without his intervention I would never have discovered this side of you.''

You smile warmly, teasingly caressing his hair with your hand while he's walking outside the room, It's now late at night and there's no one one around. Only the silence and the neon lights of the big Vought tower.

You hug him, staying close to him, safe in his arms, enjoying that moment of kindness that you don't know if it will ever return. But for tonight that's fine. You give him a gentle kiss on the cheek and let him carry you to his room.

''Damn you for making me say things like that.''

He whispered, after after gently placing you on the bed, where you will sleep together that night. You sink into the soft bed, a soft smile on your lips. You look up at him in the dim light, waiting for him. That smile will be his downfall, or yours, who knows.

He's secretly pleased by all of your lovely reaction, and he adores you so damn much, but he will never admit it.

-------

Thanks again for the request, it was really entertaining to write, hope you like it! Kisses <3

[theycallme-ook]

Ok I'll be able to explain this better in a fic than I can via essay but I don't see Cass and Terry's approaches to Batman as, like, analogous if that makes sense?

Like, when I've seen ppl have them interact it's always w Cass bringing her standards and philosophy about Batman to Terry via training or preaching or whatever (not that I'm arguing against that tbc. She would, and should, do exactly that). The symbol means so much to her and she holds others to that just as much as she holds herself to it. But as interesting as that is, I've never seen ppl acknowledge the inverse and I think that means you're missing out on another layer of interest.

The problem as I see it is thus: the symbol of the bat does not mean the same thing to both characters. And both of them being famously stubborn, I don't think they'll suddenly budge on their ideas just bc a stranger tells them to.

What do I mean by this? Well, for Cass the bat, even removed from Bruce, is redemption. It's forgiveness. It's salvation. It's the power to be good enough to save everyone, do anything, fix everything. She holds herself to an impossible standard and refuses grace. No one else dies. Not on her watch. No criminal is irredeemable bc that would mean she is irredeemable. She always sees herself as just as bad, in a way, as the villains she is willing to die to stop every night.

For Terry the bat also means redemption, but not in such a manic way. For him it's a chance to right his wrongs, make a difference and be a force for good in his community. He's not so worried about external validation. He doesn't psychologically need every killer to be redeemed. As the late great Dwayne McDuffy said, "Bruce's goal is to stop crime. Terry's goal is to help people." He and Cass have radically different approaches to the same mantle that aren't going to mesh 1-1 and I think it's unfair to both to hold them to the other's standard. Apples and oranges, yk?

And another major factor is that they come from radically different worlds as well. Cassandra comes from a setting already full of heroes, where there's a hope and lightness to the air. She sees Batman for the first time and feels hope. When they meet in no man's land he's entrenched in his mission and she's excited to join it. She sees him as someone who will never back down from the cause, never waver on his morals, holds himself to the standards she wants and will hold her to it as well. Terry's first experience with Batman is disappointment. He's born after the man already retired. The age of heroes is long over. Bruce is alone. He meets a man who's abandoned his mission and refuses to do anything about the murder of Terry's father. Terry is not saved by the bat, he's saved by a cynical old man who has to be convinced to hope again. They don't know the same Bruce Wayne. They don't know the same Batman. Cassandra's bat would never in a million years ask her to kill one man if it meant saving the world. Terry's bat already pressed a chunk of kryptonite into his hand and did

So idk I just don't think those experiences are neatly comparable

[skylarmoon71]

Lance Sweets (Bones) - Crossover AU - Chapter 16

Staying a few more days seemed like a good idea.

Clark has insight on things that you didn’t. 

“We can stay for as long as you need.” 

Sweets’s encouragement is always appreciated. He knows that you’re happy. For once you aren’t scared or lonely. 

“When you’re around him you smile, the same one I imagined you wore around your family. When I read the journal I pictured it.”

You’ve been pretty transparent with your excitement, so you’re not surprised he picked up on it. 

“I never thought we would actually find someone.” You admit. 

He understands, of course he does. 

“I’m glad you did.” 

You both share a smile as you finally get out of the car.  

Lois is practically beaming as she greets you outside and drags Sweets away. 

“Smallville is in the barn, have fun!” 

She advises. Sweets just give a wave and you head to the barn. 

You feel like you never run out of questions to ask with him. It’s nice, refreshing. You share some of your memories of when you first arrived. You also feel obligated to warn him of some of the discoveries that you’ve made. 

“The green kryptonite weakens us.” You inform. 

Clark nods. 

“They are deadly. The others are dangerous too.” 

“Others? There’s more?” 

Seated in the loft, you try to internalize it. 

“There’s blue, red, and black. Those are the ones I’ve encountered. They all have different effects. That’s why we need to be careful. Blue takes away our abilities completely. Black causes hallucinations and red it..” 

You’re watching him so eagerly. It seems like another instance where he feels awkward. Because every time he’s ever had red, things went in a certain direction. 

“It makes you a bit fearless.” 

“Fearless? That doesn’t sound so bad.” 

“Trust me, it’s bad. You also need to be careful with your powers. Speed and x-ray vision are easier to control, but heat and strength can cause issues.” 

“X-ray vision?!” 

“Yes, haven’t you ever used it before?” 

“Never. I didn’t even know that I had it.” 

He’s starting to notice a pattern. It seems all the hormonal ones skipped you. That or he was just a really horny teen. That particular power is a bit more harmless, so maybe he’ll just let you figure that one out on your own.

“It’ll come around, don’t worry.” 

“Wow, thank you, Really.” 

He has to say that he’s enjoying this almost as much as you. Every time he’s had to train kryptonians, there has always been a bit of resistance. Kara was headstrong and Connor just wanted to rush out and start saving people without knowing his full strength. You just stick to his side and listen attentively. It’s a good change of pace. 

“I guess you haven’t learned to fly yet either.” 

“Oh, I have. I learned to fly when I was ten. It was easy.” 

That feels like a jab to his ego. It literally took him years. 

“Do you want to see?” 

You look so full of light and he can’t help but agree. 

“Lead the way.” 

Your smile gets brighter, and you jump to your feet excited. Your feet slowly begin to leave the ground, and your eyes twinkle a bit mischievously. 

“Race to Metropolis.” 

“You’re on.” Clark agrees. 

The flash of your form goes right out his open window, and Clark follows behind laughing. 

~

“We flew right over Metropolis!” 

You’re reporting your experience to Sweets who is listening, looking just as excited as you. 

“That sounds amazing.” 

What’s amazing is the way you brighten when you talk about Clark and your little trips. Sweets has been getting a lay of the land as you learn more about yourself and your powers. Your happiness is a complete contrast from the beginning of this friendship and he has to admit that he prefers it. 

The way you smile.  

“Lois and Clark invited us over again to have dinner. “

“Yes, she called me earlier and told me to walk with a particular bottle of wine. I should probably take a shower before we both head over there. I ran into some high schoolers at a park and they challenged me to a race. I couldn’t turn them down.” 

You giggle at the thought of Sweets racing teens.

“Asserting your dominance to pre-pubescent kids isn’t exactly considered alpha male.” 

“Hey, I’ll have you know that a few of them were pretty tall for high schoolers.” 

You smile. 

“I’ll let you get changed. I’ll be next door when you’re done.” 

He stands, giving a salute.

“I’ll be right out your majesty.” 

He does a little bow as he takes off to the shower. The door closes behind him, and you intend to leave. The sound of the shower has you stopping. For a moment you just stare at the wall. 

There’s a brief second that you find yourself imagining what he would look like without a shirt on. Your eyes lock into the wall, and you’re startled when the foundation seems to disappear under your gaze. 

You can see him clearly and right now his shirt isn’t the only thing gone. You gasp, stumbling backwards. Your leg hits the table and you curse, thankful that you haven’t caused any damage. Without a second thought you bolt out of there, slamming the door. 

When you’re in the confines of your room, you press your head against the door. 

It’s apparent that your heat vision isn’t the only one brought up by certain desires. 

[ayakh03]

Is anything ever truly original? Is intertextuality something to worry about? 

In simple words, intertextuality is referencing or quoting another text. It's a theory that refers to the way different texts interchange with each other through quotations, references, etc.  This theory then suggests that no text exists by itself but is actually influenced and has a connection to other texts. Intersexuality can be manifested through many forms, such as direct referencing to other texts to develop characters and storylines with famous works. A very everyday, common example is Superman’s Kryptonite. It's a very common expression to express one’s weakness.

Another way is a simple quotation, inserting a line from an article, a poem, or other texts. Parodies and adapting are also ways to cause intertextuality, remaking a piece humorously, or modernizing a text in modern settings. The most common example would be the many adaptations of Romeo and Juliet.

Now this conscious intertextuality. It usually serves as paying homage to a certain text and enriching the meaning of it. Unconscious intertextuality usually happens when an author reflects phrases, ideas, themselves, etc… by accident and unintentionally. Now the interesting side I see to unconscious intertextuality, is that it reflects the idea that we all are shaped by the same stories, symbols, themes, and narratives. As much as it can appear in all our works, it can also make us recognize them in different texts. We compare texts with others we have encountered in the past, we make the same connections, as old as they can be, no matter the culture they may come from. So the theory of intertextuality by Julia Kristeva, suggests that no text exists in isolation. Nasrullah Mambrol used an interesting way of wording this theory: “In Kristeva’s formulation, any text is an “intertext” — the site of an intersection of numberless texts and existing only through its relation with other texts.”.

So, all texts are related. More interestingly, all texts are shaped by each other in many ways. The way I think, literature shouldn’t be seen as isolated, but rather as an endless discussion across different cultures and times. This just enriches the experience of literature. Therefore, this brings me to my main topic. Throughout every author's life, one gets to that overthinking stage: “Is my work fully original? Will it ever be original?” This thought is so normal, I experienced it many many times, and I’ve felt bad about it, thinking that my projects were too inspired by known stories or art styles. But making this research, and thinking about it made me come to the conclusion that, no, no text will ever be truly original. But that’s okay, and in a way it's beautiful. Is intertextuality that important? Instead of spending endless hours over the thought: “what if someone did this before me?”, I feel that it is important for each author to stay true to themselves not doubt their creative capacities, and accept that intertextuality isn’t a bad thing and can also be unconscious. It’s inspiring, it helps us go beyond our original ideas. We should embrace and use it for the greater good, to create and maybe our work could inspire other people to create and develop their own pieces.

Sources 

Bassnett, S. (2007). Influence and Intertextuality: A Reappraisal. Forum for Modern Language Studies, 43(2), pp.134–146. doi:https://doi.org/10.1093/fmls/cqm004.

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MasterClass. (2020). Allusion in Writing: 3 Allusion Examples in Literature Explained - 2024 - MasterClass. [online] Available at: https://www.masterclass.com/articles/what-is-allusion-in-writing-learn-about-the-6-different-types-of-literary-allusions-and-neil-gaimans-tips-for-using-allusion-in-writing#7opnlxWH83AjL8vP9XcjbJ [Accessed 29 Oct. 2024].

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Nasrullah Mambrol (2016). Julia Kristeva: Intertextuality. [online] Literary Theory and Criticism. Available at: https://literariness.org/2016/03/22/julia-kristeva-intertextuality/.

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[somebodyssherlock-heterodyne]

So Incredibly Divorced Sara/Talia is spectacular and I love the idea of Jay and Damian trying to make them talk to each other by doing dumb shit. I feel like Jon will go along with the parent trap schemes but ONLY when he wants to cause a mental breakdown for Bruce. At first it's just because he's occasionally a petty bastard about Batman disparaging his boyfriend, pretty soon he's timing both his encouragement of the parent trap shenanigans and the subsequent plans so that Bruce is sobbing into a gallon of ice cream right about when one of the Supers is doing some stupid but not deadly shit he'd inevitably be an asshole about (usually any form of having fun in costume. Bruce is a paranoid bastard and they love him anyway but dont necessarily want to deal with it). Jay and Damian are both fully aware Jon is doing this but it actually took them long enough to catch onto it that they're both impressed and mildly unnerved.

Jay keeps the parent trap scheme up out of one part morbid fascination- seriously it's like watching a slow motion train wreck you can't look away- one part vested interest in keeping Talia invested in Parousia-Gamorra, and one part the only time his mom isn't stressing about politics and carrying her whole fucking country on her back is when she's stressing about him or yelling at/about Talia. Their admittedly rare family nights are ones he treasures but theyre not frequent enough, so he peppers in Talia Times whenever Sara needs a break from politics but refuses to take one because neither of them know when or how to quit. He thinks it's probably not the most healthy way to get her a fifteen minute break every so often but it is pretty much the only option that both reliably works and is reliably available.

Damian is doing this for three reasons as well: the first is pure petty revenge on his mother for continually sending her agents to test his reflexes. None of Talia's arguments about Al Ghul composure work for shit anymore because he's seen her cursing at Sara Nakamura in Arabic with mascara tears streaming down her cheeks. Damian is enjoying this immensely and Talia's willing to put up with it in exchange for video of the mental breakdown it induces in Bruce. His second reason is because he thinks Jay's cool and it's the easiest way to find out what he should throw his dad's money and his family's detective skills at next to help out. A rare breath of enjoyable company and a chance to piss off Waller? Sign him up. Reason number three is so that he can monitor the Supers during whatever time Jon suggests they line the dominoes up for just to make sure nothing actually bad happens.

Sara and Talia cannot go five minutes in the same room without an argument. The one time they managed it was when someone got clever and managed to capture both of their sons using Kryptonite poisoned Jon as bait. They rescued Superman, Gossamer, and Robin with terrifying speed and efficiency and they worked together like an absolute dream and by mutual silent agreement they will NEVER speak of it again (contemplative longing glances aren't words they don't count).

(I wonder what Sara thinks of the Superfam's pretty much nonreaction to Jon being extremely fucked up. I wonder what she thinks of Clark leaving Jon with his mantle when he did. I don't think she'd find out until he and Jay had been dating for a while but I wonder.)

Sfjshhgfkl I saw the Sara/Talia anon and I'm losing my shit over potential stepbrothers Jay and Damian. I think for maximum comedy we should have Damian who is perfectly aware that his mother is beautiful because that's really just a factual matter and a weapon in her arsenal, and Jay who firmly believes his mom is awesome but has NO CLUE everyone thinks she's a MILF. He's one of those kids who goes 'what the hell do you mean my mom is hot' and then Jon, who has lived his entire life dealing with how badly so many people want to fuck one or both of his parents, has to pull his boyfriend aside and be like 'listen there is no good or kind way to inflict this kind of psychic damage but the internet found your mom's yearbook photos and now NakaMILFra is trending on twitter'. Jay discovers four new stages of grief on the spot. Then someone posts an old photo of Sara and Talia in their carefree and rebellious youth. Damian and Jay immediately call each other to scream DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS. They have no idea what the hell they're supposed to do with this information. Jay calls his mom because what the HELL and he's treated to a forty minute lecture about ways he can avoid Sara's mistakes with Talia being made with him and Jon (she adds that if Jon decides to dump Jay for a guy who's emotional constipation is so bad not even being that rich and that hot can make up for it, she'll key Jon's car for him. Apparently the possibility of angry Kryptonian has nothing on the knife throwing reality of angry Talia.) Jay has no idea what to do with any of the advice he's just received. Damian is now weighing his options on which couple to parent trap and he picks Sara/Talia for several truly logical reasons and the fact that Parousia-Gamorra has lots of really cool animals. He is nearly cheerful when he informs Jon of this, via Kryptonian hearing because Jay unplugged their router seconds after checking his socials. Jay has since been sitting on the kitchen floor, staring into a jar of Nutella like it's capable of producing the means to his salvation. Jon figures that Jay could probably do far worse step-mom wise than Talia purely because Talia will ensure that any attempts to call or carry out a hit on the Nakamuras end up dead in a ditch and Jon would like the reassurance that even when he's off planet someone is there to make the CIA cry. Of course she'll want to send her own agents to test Jay's reflexes probably but Jon's pretty sure Sara can talk her out of that. Talia being preoccupied ensuring her wife's country stays a free democracy and nobody succeeds in assassinating her wife or her stepson is by far the best plan anyone's come up with to keep Talia too occupied to be a supervillain and they all know it. Jon is torn between hating that this plan succeeding will make Jay a proxy member of the Batfamily, or preemptively buying popcorn because when Bruce tries to pull his emotionally incompetent helicopter parent bullshit Jay is going to make that man's life a living hell for as long as it takes him to realize that was a bad idea. Jay doesn't even find out about this plan until Damian has successfully tricked Saralia into a date and Damian throws Jon under the bus immediately. Jay is furious with Jon for not telling him ('you were barely past the psychic damage from twitter' is some bold hypocrisy from the guy who's going to end up paying off his therapist's mortgage) for about three days before Jon sits him down and lists the flat out pros and cons of this plan succeeding. 'Saralia cannot possibly be WORSE for each other than Brutalia' is on both lists. 'No dictator will be able to set up shop' is a compelling argument but what actually sells Jay on the whole thing is the knowledge that sleeping with Talia Al Ghul is going to be as strong a hitman deterrent for his mom as sleeping with a Kryptonian is for him. Bruce finds out about the plan several months after the three of them start working together and Jon gleefully sends him to voicemail every time he calls.

GOD PLEASE I DIDNT EVEN THINK ABOUT BRUCE. HE'D LOSE HIS FUCKING MIND. I do think the logical conclusion to this 'yes and' is like, Damian and Jon try and parent trap them, not realizing that like. This was no ordinary breakup. This was a TOXIC SAPPHICS IN THE LATE 80S breakup. Full Good Luck Babe by Chappell Roan. They act like they're DIVORCED. Jayjon and Damian are watching the date they set the two of them up on as a surprise like ;O_O

Its a mess. But more confusingly for the boys, like, Sara and Talia clearly still care a LOT about eachother, like Talia's showing up to defend Sara from western interference and Sara's lending her her top secret intel, but they WILL. NOT. GET. ALONG. Its an ACTIVE REFUSAL to let go of what happened in their past and move on from it. They'll be mid-fight with one of Waller's task forces and Sara will be like "REMEMBER THAT TIME YOU LEFT ME FOR A WHITE MAN?!" Sara's ranting to Jay when she gets home from their date that she CANT BELIEVE talia hasn't changed WHATSOEVER with her DUMB LONG HAIR and her BEAUTIFUL JASMINE PERFUME and Jay is just like

"Uhuh. Uhuh. Sure mom."

This is all extra funny if you consider the fact Damian canonically admires Jay's works and respects his opinion a lot. On the one hand, oh god he doesn't wanna think about his mom's love life. On the other.... an excuse to spend more time with Jay woooooo

I don't know if Sara and Talia would ever formally get back together again since I believe in my soul the both of them are too caught up in the torn and abandoned people they've become (since in this hypothetical, Sara's lost Jay's other mother, her late wife, and.... Talia's everything) but I think every once and awhile they share a cigarette on a rooftop after some shit goes down all lesbian-ly and theres this moment where they Wonder. They're each other's "one who got away" and they refuse to consider the alternative where they might've been happy.

Doesn't stop Jay and Damian from TRYING to make their moms talk to each other! Their biggest strategy is forcing the two women to coparent them by doing something extremely stupid

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: "Do it. Take a chance, I'm begging you. You don't want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been."

Read on AO3

“What is it?” Kara huffed out, her frustration finally reaching critical mass.

“What’s what?” Alex replied, playing dumb by pretending to study the DEO’s monitors far too intently considering Kara had literally just dispatched the rogue villain of the week.

Kara crossed her arms, hip cocked forward slightly as she leant against the central console, blue eyes observing her sister's profile closely.

“Whatever you’re not telling me because you think it will upset me.” The superhero clarified bluntly, her social hesitation and uncertainty having dampened over the last few years.

She had learnt the hard way how important it was to never shy away from the truth and avoid speaking around the heart of the matter. It was a lesson she had absorbed completely, and it was one she refused to forget - needing to prove she had evolved, had bettered herself from the version that had required teaching in the first place.

“I’m not…” Alex refuted, shrugging dismissively but keeping her gaze trained forward, “There’s no-“

“Look, I’m asking you out of courtesy,” Kara cut in, “but you and I both know that I could just as easily ask Nia, and she would fold almost instantly.”

Alex grumbled irritably under her breath - Nia still had yet to build an effective resistance to Kara’s puppy dog eyes and this particular weakness had caused no small amount of trouble for Alex over the last five years.

“It is Lena related, right?” Kara checked, though it was completely unnecessary.

For Alex to actively try and keep a secret from her, it couldn’t be about anything else. And it had been more or less confirmed by her sister's reaction to her threatening to go to Nia.

“Just because I’m keeping a secret, doesn’t automatically mean it’s to do with Lena.” Alex tried, though the conviction behind her statement was weaker than wet tissue paper.

The redhead side-eyed her and Kara merely had to arch an unimpressed eyebrow in return for the DEO director to deflate.

“Okay maybe it’s a little to do with Lena.” Alex admitted with a wince, rubbing the back of her neck in defeat.

Kara threw her hands up in exasperation. “It’s been over five years, okay? I’m fine!”

Her bellowed declaration of stability, made the nearby DEO agents look over with a mix of curiosity and concern. Kara grimaced at the reaction and as such didn’t resist when Alex grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the central room and into her private office.

Alex turned to face her fully, lips pressed tight together and hands firm on her own hips (it had always annoyed Kara that Alex managed to make her signature superhero pose far more intimidating than her own attempts).

“Yelling I’m fine, definitely helps your case.” Alex retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Kara had the good grace to look suitably embarrassed for a moment before launching into the same variation of the speech she gave every time there was a morsel of Lena news to be had. “I screwed up, okay? Big time screwed up - ‘regret it for the rest of my life’ screwed up!” Kara declared prompting a beleaguered sigh from her sister who knew the blatant lie that was coming next. “But I’ve made my peace with it. I won’t spiral into another depressive episode when I hear how happy she is.”

Alex shook her head, not even remotely convinced - not that Kara could blame her, the last time Alex had been pestered into telling her a Lena update, Kara had spent a weekend on a drinking binge that had successfully proven that there were limits even for a kryptonian.

“I don’t think-“ Alex began.

“What is it?” Kara demanded. “Is she getting another medal from the president?”

Alex shook her head, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Kara, you don’t want to know this.”

“Her and Kal save the world again?” Kara barrelled on, her lips curling into a jealous snarl. “The greatest Luthor and Super duo continue to make the world a better place?”

That particular news article had been printed and burned by Kara’s heat vision more times than she dared admit to anyone.

“Kara, please-“ Alex begged, expression crumpling as Kara relentlessly pushed.

“Tell me, I can take it.” Kara proclaimed, voice coming out high pitched and strained. “Is she dating someone again? Another famous actress? That Olympic male gymnast? What-“

“She’s getting married.”

A bomb must have gone off, Kara thought to herself.

A kryptonite bomb.

It was the only thing that could explain the ringing in her ears, and the way everything just… hurt.

A shard of kryptonite must have pierced her chest and cut her heart into jagged pieces. That was the only thing that could explain it.

“What?” She questioned, barely above a whisper. She didn’t quite recognise her own voice - it sounded shattered and unfamiliar. She also didn’t know what she was asking.

Didn’t know what ‘what’ was all about.

What just happened?

What did you say?

What post-apocalyptic reality are we living in now?

“Next week, she’s getting married.” Alex explained, giving Kara answers she no longer wanted. “Sam, Ruby, Kal and Lois are invited.”

She knew it should sting. Not being invited even though they hadn’t spoken in nearly five years. That she should feel something about the fact that Lena had omitted Alex, Brainy, Nia and J’onn as well - it further reinforced how Lena believed them to be Kara’s friends and never hers (which was one of the things Kara regretted most - how her poor treatment of Lena had infected and destroyed everyone else’s friendship with the youngest Luthor).

“To who?” Kara asked, tone cold, hollow… empty.

“Kara,” Alex murmured softly, reaching out to comfort her sister, “this clearly isn’t good for you.”

Kara jerked backwards so fast that the papers on Alex’s desk shot into the air, fluttering down around the sisters like snow.

“Just tell me!” Kara ordered, hands turned into white knuckle fists at her sides that would be capable of tearing through the strongest of metals. Her eyes heated but she managed to stave the fire in them as she glowered at her sister.

Alex slumped back, leaning heavily against her desk, running a frantic hand through her short hair. “Does it matter?” Alex muttered defeatedly, brown eyes filled with pity and sympathy as she stared up into Kara’s eyes.

“Of course it fucking matters,” Kara snapped in outrage before she had a chance to stop and think , “because it’s not me!”

The admission hung heavy and rotting between them. It wasn’t a revelation to either of them, though the fact that the intensity of Kara’s feelings hadn’t dampened despite the separation of half a decade was.

“Kara…” Alex breathed, standing back up and moving towards the blonde with the obvious intent of hugging her.

“I should get back to CatCo.” Kara mumbled, cheeks a fiery red with shame. She stepped hurriedly away from her sister and was already halfway out the door before she halted, turning back to call out a sad yet sincere. “Thanks for telling me.”

Xxx

“I genuinely don’t get why you love these films so much.” Lena remarked, hands cupping her just made cup of cocoa, nose adorably scrunched up as she snuggled back down on the sofa beside Kara, who didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her best friend’s shoulders.

“They’re sweet and romantic.” Kara replied with a happy sigh, turning to nuzzle into the side of Lena’s head for a fleeting moment as the film’s lead started her joyful march down the aisle. “It makes me hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” Lena repeated curiously, leaning away slightly so she could meet Kara’s blue eyes.

Kara shrugged, ducking her head bashfully, “It’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Lena murmured gently, freeing a hand from her mug so that she could interlace her warmed fingers with Kara’s, “you could never be stupid, especially not about something like this.” Her best friend asserted, before asking seriously, “You want the classic big white wedding?”

“Uh…” Kara blushed, cheeks pinking as her mind struggled to kick into gear.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that the reason she loved weddings more than any other event is because they so closely resembled Kryptonian Bonding ceremonies. That the exchanging of rings, polished everlasting metal, reminded her of wonderfully crafted bracelets clasped on wrists. That it was an occasion for family to join together across generations, for the rare flashes of art and music on Krypton to take centre stage over cold science.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena that after being alone, abandoned and lost - ripped away from her home in the cruelest of ways - that the idea of belonging to someone else, of having a home in someone else regardless of time or location was what Kara wanted more than anything else.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena because it would require admitting the truth of who she really was, it would require taking accountability for years of lies.

She didn’t know how to tell Lena without losing her forever.

“Yeah.” Kara coughed awkwardly, “I want the whole thing. Beautiful dress, surrounded by family… the love of my life at the end of the aisle. Everything.” She shot Lena a side-long glance, “I’m guessing you don’t?”

“Never really been my thing,” Lena admitted readily and Kara’s heart twisted at how Lena didn’t hesitate to bare herself, how she gave all of herself when it could be argued that Kara - at best - only gave half, “probably because I can’t imagine I have enough people in my life to invite and feel ‘surrounded’.” Lena pursed her lips thoughtfully, “I also don’t get the need for the spectacle. Just the idea that there’s someone out there that would want to…” Kara watched her best friend deflate, expression wistful and pained, “be with me, love me like that… that’s more than enough.”

Kara’s eyes stung with barely suppressed tears at how little Lena thought of herself. Whoever had the privilege of marrying her best friend would be the single luckiest and most fortunate person in the universe and Kara wished Lena knew that, wished she believed it. But when she opened her mouth to say it, to proclaim it, her breath faltered and her courage abandoned her… like it always did with the youngest Luthor.

“So no white dress?” Kara muttered instead, voice meek and lacking the lightheartedness that should have carried the question.

It didn’t matter, though, Lena let out a quick exhale that resembled something on the edge of laughter. Kara’s escalating heart rate settled at that, however, it did little to alleviate the pang of regret that was steadily accompanying all her interactions with the CEO.

“Well, I guess I could be convinced by someone special.” Lena teased, shooting Kara an overtly salacious wink that wouldn’t - on the surface - be considered genuine.

���Anyone that marries you will have to be special.” Kara replied, the statement tumbling out instantly.

It wasn’t the heartfelt confession that Kara wished it to be and it wasn’t quite light enough to be dismissed as a friendly reassurance. Instead, it was yet another thing that fell into the ethereal greyness that lied between them, something to tuck away and think back on late at night when they tried to work out if the other meant it the way they wished they did.

“Yeah?” Lena whispered, piercing green eyes studying Kara’s face closely.

Kara swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”

Xxx

Lena found out less than six weeks after that movie night. They defeated Lex and Kara had been on the edge of breathing easy, of being able to simply relax back into her life when it all came crashing down.

They had been at Games Night and Kara had been antsy, waiting for her best friend to arrive. The thought of pulling Lena into a hug had been what she had been looking forward to most all day.

Kara was at peace, laughing and drinking with her friends - her family - when Lena had arrived. Kara had beamed up at her immediately and for a second Lena’s entrancing green eyes lit up in return before turning dark and distant.

Kara’s smile faltered, crinkle appearing between her brows when-

The wine bottle smashed into the wall behind Kara’s head.

Deathly silence fell over the area.

Kara looked into hollow, emptied out versions of her favourite green. She would have preferred anger, fury, rage… the defeated nothingness staring back at the Kryptonian was far worse.

Lena turned and left, grinding Kara’s heart to dust and taking the sand particles left with her.

She knew.

She knew because Lex had told her.

She knew because she had gone to stop her brother, intent on saving the world like always only to find out that those she was saving the world for didn’t view her as their equal. That the people she treated as family had kept her on the outskirts. That her best friend had lied, had manipulated, had-

xxx

It was Lois that found out everything from Lena.

When the fallout had happened, as Kara and the Superfriends realised what they had lost, the blonde hero sent notice to her cousin that his identity was probably known as well (mostly because she remembered how hurt she had been when Kal shared her secret without her consent). Kal and Lois had arrived almost immediately, frantic and terrified (especially with baby Jon to consider) at the concept of a Luthor knowing their identity.

Kara, joined by all the Superfriends, quickly put their minds to rest, sharing Lena’s actions from before, her dependability, kindness and inherent goodness. Kal and Lois were convinced their secret was safe but they were horrified to hear how Lena had been isolated and kept at arms length after her considerable good deeds. Alex and the others had squirmed uncomfortably and tried to weakly talk around their hesitancy.

Kal and Lois had simply looked at Kara for an explanation but she had none. Yet again the words would not come.

It was Lois, therefore, that had sought out the youngest Luthor and through her incredible tenacity was able to gain access where everyone else was rebuffed and harshly rejected.

It was Lois that comforted Lena, gave her support and sympathy.

It was Lois that relayed Lena’s demand that they give her space.

It was Lois that suggested Lena return to Metropolis - presenting it as a way to celebrate how L-Corp, after Lena’s repeated sacrifices and heroism, was fully rehabilitated and ready to reclaim its once home.

It was Lois that encouraged Lena and Kal to work together becoming an unstoppable force that Kara and Lena had always danced on the precipice of.

A Luthor and a Super. Saving the world.

xxx

Kara did as asked. Gave Lena space. Or at least the semblance of space.

She checked in constantly, hovered nearby throughout the days and nights leading upto L-Corp’s departure and Lena along with it. She followed Lena’s jet to Metropolis, a sentinel ensuring safe passage.

She kept her distance for three months. Three months of stony silence before she broke.

Snapped, more like.

Landing on Lena’s new balcony in Metropolis that had been specially built for Superman this time - not for her, though Kara, at the time, had hoped that she had been considered consciously or unconsciously as well.

Kara couldn’t remember the exact words.

She remembered crying from beginning to end.

Remembered ‘I loved you’ - past tense.

Remembered finally breaking through Lena’s cold, hardened shell to the raw, bleeding wound hidden underneath and regretting it almost immediately.

Remembered how seeing Lena’s agony was worse than kryptonite, worse than watching Krypton burn…

Remembered Lena saying she needed time to heal, for Kara to stop hovering nearby - because she knew, she sensed Kara’s presence even without seeing her once - and to give her time to stop thinking of Kara and feeling only pain when she did so.

Remembered promising to do just that.

Remembered a timer starting to count in her head - the seconds that she would be condemned to purgatory.

Remembered the hope that just refused to go out - the hope that whispered give it time, give it time, give it time with every beat of her heart.

Remembered thinking that given enough time Lena would reach out and they would get the chance that Kara had almost destroyed for them.

Remembered flying zig-zagged and dangerous to Alex where her endless stream of tears returned to full flow as she sobbed into her sister’s shoulder using words and phrases like ‘heartbroken’ and ‘I love her’ and ‘I can’t survive this pain’ and ‘what do I do?’ and ‘I can’t breathe’.

Remembered a hollowed out shell of Kara Danvers moving through the motions for a year, for two, three, four… five...

Remembered taking up drinking to excess whenever she saw Lena’s life flourish and grow - not because she didn’t want Lena to be happy, that was what Kara wanted and wished for more than anything - because she wasn’t there with her for those life-changing events.

Remembered Alex and Kelly’s worries growing with each occurrence, intervening more and more to such a degree that they encouraged Kara to consider AA meetings - she did eventually, and found destroying entire junkyards to be a healthier coping mechanism, external destruction rather than internal.

Remembered Brainy at the behest of Alex, setting up Kara’s phone and computer to prevent searching for any keywords affiliated to Lena and to alert Alex if Kara ever managed to stumble upon a news article.

Remembered listening to Kal and Lois skipping large parts of stories where it was clear that Lena was involved - it was nice in some way to know Lena was getting the credit she deserved, but it hurt when Kal’s stories started to involve gaps at Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year (events that made Kara’s loneliness even more acute and her longing intensify).

Remembered her life without Lena.

Remembered regret and guilt and loss.

Remembered-

“She’s getting married.”

xxx

Kara shouldn’t have been there. Shouldn’t be anywhere in the vaguest vicinity of where she currently was.

The bride was dressed in a simple silky white shift, sipping intermittently from her champagne glass as she stared contemplatively up at the designer white dress hanging off the door in front of her. Raven locks were pinned up, so tight and intricate that it made Kara wince sympathetically at how it must tug and pinch at the bride’s scalp - she’d always preferred it down, loose and curling… soft and inviting. The bride’s make-up was artistic with a dramatic edge that would captivate but made her look… not like herself in Kara’s opinion.

Or maybe after five years it made Lena look more like herself - the version of herself she had become once free of Kara and all the pain she brought into her life.

She was hovering outside the dressing room window, trying to work out how far she was willing to take this. If it would be better to leave without saying anything, to try and leave some part of Lena’s life unspoiled.

It was the fear that she had always given into when she was best friends with Lena that made her decision for her. Like speaking her truth and learning to ask for what she wanted - Kara had also promised herself that she would never allow that bone deep fear to stop her ever again.

The window was open and it was as good an invite as Kara was ever going to get.

“Lena?”

The beautiful bride-to-be jerked in her place, champagne glass nearly tumbling to the floor but saved at the last second.

She didn’t turn around for a beat… then two…

Kara was just about to escape back through the window when Lena exhaled slowly and pivoted round to meet her.

“Kara?” Lena breathed out, green eyes closed off and wary.

The kryptonian studied the love of her life for a moment, taking in every little detail - soaking it all up as if accepting that this would be the last time she might ever get to see it again. That the timer that had counted past five years would stop after this moment, the hope powering it gone forever.

“Don’t marry them, please.” Kara requested, no flowery language, no build up. Just the honest truth.

“What?” Lena’s jaw dropped and the champagne glass didn’t survive the second shock, crashing to the ground - released by trembling fingers.

“Don’t marry them.” Kara repeated, uncaring of how the carpet below them soaked up the amber liquid.

Lena’s expression flitted through an array of emotions before settling on indignant rage, “And why the hell not?!”

Kara didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, instead she stood taller, the crest of her super suit catching the early afternoon light. “Because it should have been me. It still should be me.”

Lena scoffed in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. Now? You’re doing this now?”

Kara pursed her lips, fighting back the regret that always came with the reminders of countless missed opportunities. “Yes.”

The straightforwardness of Kara’s answers seemed to be throwing Lena, leaving her wrong-footed, clearly expecting the blonde to talk around and hint and imply like she used to.

But Kara had learnt. (The lesson had been too painful not to.)

“You had years, Kara!” Lena argued, “Years where I…. I threw myself at you. Practically begged you to love me… to trust me…”

“I know.” Kara replied sadly, wanting desperately to reach out when Lena’s pretty green eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. “I know. But I’m here now.”

“I don’t want you to be.” Lena muttered, arms crossed over her chest and head ducked downwards to hide her expression.

“I know that too.” Kara assured, fingers twitching with the desire to make contact, to comfort and coax - even after all these years her body remembered, the pathways of hardwired instinct related to her best friend were still there, still active even if temporarily closed for service.

“Then why are you here?” Lena murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s head snapped up at that, green eyes like saucers.

Kara’s single biggest regret was that she had never said those words to Lena before, had alluded and pointed at them during their final interaction but had never outright said them. And Lena had deserved to hear them then and deserved to hear them now to forever vanquish the doubts that had always been with her.

“Because I’m in love with you and we didn’t get our chance.” Kara affirmed, taking a half step closer to the bride, her red heeled boots and Lena’s bare feet meaning the younger woman had to tip her head ever so slightly back to maintain eye contact. “We didn’t get our chance because of me. Because I was afraid, I was so afraid of losing you. Of doing even the slightest thing that could mean you weren’t in my life. And in the end every action I took out of fear of losing you ensured just that. I’ve spent five years without you, Lena, and I can’t bear a single day more.”

“Kara,” Lena whispered, “I’m getting married.”

“I know.” Kara smiled sadly before adding, “Don’t.”

“What are you suggesting? Seriously?” Lena sighed, shaking her head mournfully and Kara knew she was losing her then.

“I’m suggesting that we have our chance now before it's gone forever.”

Gathering the small amount of courage Kara had left, she tentatively let her hands nudge forwards, brushing against Lena’s cool, pale fingers. That small contact was everything. Made it easier to breathe, made the colours of the world more vibrant, made everything just more.

“I let fear hold me back from the person that made me happiest in the entire universe and I won’t let it hold me back again.”

“Kara…” Lena whimpered, glancing back over her shoulder at the closed door that her wedding dress was displayed on, though she didn’t pull her hand away from Kara’s touch, didn’t flinch or retreat.

“Do it.” Kara pleaded, stepping across that final slither of distance between them, her forehead leaning forward to rest gently against the side of Lena’s, “Take a chance, I’m begging you. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.”

Lena inhaled shakily, head returning to forward facing - foreheads pressed against one another, breathing in the same air - and then… and then…

Lena’s hands slipped fully into Kara’s, fingers intertwining together.

[deadbiwrites]

a video of supergirl grabbing lena luthor's ass starts circulating and it's very embarrassing for sc but extremely funny to their friends

(I am SO sorry. Where do these hide? Why do I never see them? How long has this been here?!

Anyways, have some cute nonsense!)

The day starts like any other, honestly.

Like, sure, Kara’s never thrilled when she wakes up 20 minutes late and has to use superspeed to get through her morning routine and into the office on time, but it happens regularly enough that she’s just sort of used to it by now. Like, the sky is blue, the grass is green, she manages time poorly. Whatever.

But she does get to work on time, with just enough to spare that she can make a brief detour to Nia’s desk for the coffee her protege has already bought for her, thank her profusely (with perhaps minor promising of firstborn children), and slip into the morning meeting just as Snapper, James, and Lena start handing out assignments for the day.

“Well, well, good of you to join us, Ponytail. Let me guess, a family emergency kept you out all night again?”

‘I mean, that Abraxian wasn’t my family, technically, but someone’s family, so…’ “Something like that. Sorry.”

Lena catches her eye and quirks a brow in question, but Kara just shrugs easily and sips her coffee, pulling a silly face at her friend when Snapper’s attention moves away from her. When her eyes uncross, she can tell Lena is fighting not to laugh, eyes sparking with mirth as she bites her lip. Kara takes another sip of coffee, feeling a bit smug that she can get Lena to smile without even having to say anything to her. That’s real talent, right there.

Especially since Lena has to stand up at the front with James, who has been by turns cold, dejected, and surly toward her since their breakup (a big, real, final one) a few weeks prior. Lena had said that the whole thing was a mistake, that she should’ve never gone for it in the first place because she’d been right the first time- they’d had some chemistry, after all, but it certainly wasn’t compatible long-term. 

Which… Kara can certainly relate. Like, a lot.

Especially about the whole… James being kind of wounded about it part. That part had really sucked- when he’d done it with Kara, who he’d gone on like, a date with, it’d resulted in him deciding to become a vigilante. Rao only knows what he’ll do when it’s someone he dated on and off for over a year...

“Ponytail!”

Kara jumps, realizing too late that her wandering attention hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Yes, sir?”

Snapper rolls his eyes. “Great, now that you’ve stopped orbiting Saturn, you wanna go get that article started?”

Kara’s eyes widen slightly in a panic as she realizes that she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Uh…” Behind his back, Lena catches her eye and nods subtly. Thank Rao. “Yes. I super do.”

Lena snorts, James sighs deeply, and the meeting is adjourned.

**

“So what exactly am I supposed to be doing today?” Kara asks Lena as they stroll out of the conference room together.

“Well unfortunately for you, you have to interview a big-time CEO. You have a meeting scheduled with her in three hours.”

“You?” Kara asks hopefully.

“You’re very sweet,” Lena chuckles. “No, Elena Watts. She’s a real estate developer, and she runs a nonprofit organization for homeless youth. It’s one of the articles we’re doing for next month’s spread. Contrary to popular belief, Cat and I weren’t the only women with high-profile jobs in this city. ”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool! Have you met her?”

“Not personally, no, but I have donated to her charity- it’s a very good cause, especially the outreach they do with queer youth.”

Kara elbows Lena gently. “You’re such a softie.”

“Mmm, maybe. But if you tell anyone, you’re fired.”

Kara clutches a hand to her chest, feigning horror. “Why Miss Luthor, what a blatant abuse of power!”

Lena shrugs. “I’m a Luthor, darling, I have to keep up appearances somehow.”

“Ouch,” Kara laughs. “See you at lunch?”

“Only if lunch includes a milkshake- I have a teleconference with both boards today. Unless you feel like joining me?”

“Wow, well as fun as that sounds, I’m gonna go do literally anything else.” Her comms crackle to life, alerting her of a hostage situation downtown, and Kara sighs. So much for a work day. “Alright, well, I’m, um, gonna go… see what I can find on Elena Watts. Maybe over another cup of coffee at Noonan’s.” She widens her eyes a bit, trying her best to convey that she’s going to be on Super-duty for a little while.

Thankfully, Lena picks up on it and grins. “You just want sticky buns.”

“Lena, I always want sticky buns. They’re like, my second favorite thing to eat.”

“Oh? What’s the first?” Lena asks, voice just a bit lower than usual. 

Kara opens her mouth and closes it, flushing slightly as she averts her gaze and adjusts the laptop bag on her shoulder. Stuff like that has been happening more and more, and she’s not 100% sure what to do about it. Because on the one hand, it makes her stomach do flips and tie up in knots and makes her brain do this… staticky thing where nothing filters in or out, just a pleasant buzz of how funny and smart Lena is and how much Kara likes hanging out with her and being flirted with (because that’s definitely what’s been happening, even if neither of them is really ready to address it) and just generally looking at Lena.... who is currently biting her lip and grinning up at Kara, and that buzz makes her kinda dumb, which is just really unhelpful. But on the other hand, it’s also kinda awesome and Kara really enjoys it, and-

“Kara?”

She spaced out again. Crap.

“Um. What time are you free for lunch?”

Lena sighs, seeming slightly disappointed that Kara isn’t flirting back at the moment (and thank Rao Lena can’t read minds), but she smiles back easily enough as they step off of the elevator. “I should be done by two.”

Feeling emboldened, Kara turns so she’s walking backwards in front of Lena and grins. “It’s a date,” she says with a grin, ducking forward to press a quick “friendly” kiss high on Lena’s cheek. She whirls and jogs out the double doors, leaving Lena smiling exasperatedly after her.

**

It is genuinely baffling to Kara that people still commit crimes in National City. It’s not even an ego thing, really, since Kara tries to keep herself humble (even when she manages to wrap up a hostage situation within twenty seconds of arriving on-scene without injuring any of the criminals or damaging the building too badly). Like, yeah, she gets that there’s a certain element of crazies who just sorta gravitate to places with a local hero, the big-bads who have their own suits and geek-toys and abilities. Them, Kara gets. Kinda sorta. But the regular ones, who are armed with like, pistols? Or knives? Just regular man made stuff without even the benefit of magic or kryptonite or something?

Why? 

She’s sure that if she asked, Lena would have some sort of statistical thing about large cities and poverty and all sorts of other factors that would end up making Kara feel like a jerk for being uncharitable to the criminal element of her city, but at the moment she’s mostly too annoyed by the fact that she has to spend her weekdays chasing them around instead of chasing stories.

Once all the hostages are freed and the cops secure the scene, Kara departs, flying into the alley behind Noonan’s and changing into her regular clothes before she heads inside to do a bit of research before her meeting with Elena Watts in a few hours (just because she’d used it as a cover doesn’t mean it was a bad idea…). She finds her favorite little two-person booth tucked into a quiet corner, plugs in her laptop, and gets to work, asking the waitress to please keep both the coffee and the sticky buns coming.

She gets a surprising amount done by the time she needs to leave for the interview, having a good foundation for what she wants to write and who Elena Watts is.

Ms. Watts turns out to be a pretty nice lady around Eliza’s age, if a bit busy and distracted by the steady flow of people in and out of her office. She answers all Kara’s questions with aplomb, happy to elaborate on most every point and eager to draw attention to the rising issue of homelessness among children and teens in the US.

“When I was young, my dad lost his job at the auto plant. It was supposed to be a temporary layoff, but the factory never reopened. We ended up losing the house, and we lived so far from our extended family that staying with them wasn’t much of an option. We lived in our SUV for six months, sleeping at shelters every now and again, if we could find one that allowed families to stay together. We showered at the local YMCA. Five people and a dog, living and sleeping in an old station wagon- even now, it sounds ridiculous. Eventually, we got back on our feet, but I never forgot that. It was just six months, but it was- and remains- the scariest, most uncertain time in my entire life, and it shaped me in a lot of ways I didn’t expect. And there are kids and families who do that for years. I just want to help them the way I wish that someone had been able to help us.”

At the end of the interview, Kara thanks her profusely for her time and for sharing her story before hurrying off to CatCo to type up a draft for Snapper (“What’s wrong with you, Ponytail, why is everything you bring me sappy and sentimental?”), which she finishes an outline of just in time to send it off before running to Big Belly and L-Corp for lunch with Lena.

She greets the newest in a series of secretaries (Anna? Amy? Ava? Lena’s really missing Jess, these days, but from what she’s told Kara, Jess is kicking butt in her new role as VP of Operations and will probably take over for the COO when he retires in a few years), and the girl waves her in distractedly.

And that’s when Kara’s day goes from normal to not, because inside the office are two masked men holding a stone-faced Lena at gunpoint on her balcony and demanding… something, probably. Kara’s a bit distracted by the loaded gun aimed at Lena’s head.

“Hey!” she yells, attracting both their attention. They whirl on her and Lena’s eyes widen in alarm, and Kara suddenly realizes three things- 1) she’s in her Kara Danvers clothes, not the supersuit, 2) she can’t speed into the suit now that they’re both looking at her, and 3) she has no plan.

Crap.

“Who the hell are you?!” one of them demands.

Kara… doesn’t have a good or snappy answer for that, and instead does the only thing she can think of- she throws the large milkshakes she’s carrying at them as hard as she can.

Which, in retrospect, is too hard, apparently because while yes, it is both funny and gratifying to see two grown men get absolutely leveled by a tasty dairy treat to the face, the one closest to Lena manages to elbow her in such a way that she falls backwards over the rail with an instinctual scream that makes Kara’s heart fly into her throat. She whips off her glasses, and by the time she’s out the window and speeding toward Lena’s flailing form, the suit is materialized. She gets under Lena, catching her carefully and dropping a bit further before slowing down (because she’s been made aware that when she doesn’t, the people she’s saving may as well be hitting the pavement), finally coasting to a stop about 20 feet from the ground.

Lena’s face is screwed up in a forced sort of focus, her hands clutching tightly at Kara’s shoulders and cape as she holds her breath.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks quietly.

Lena swallows thickly and nods, eyes still firmly closed. “I’m alright. Thank you- I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure how to get out of that one.”

“What was that? What did they want?”

Lena cracks an eye open. “Oh. you know, just my quarterly assassination attempt. I think my mother was starting to miss me, so she wanted to reach out.”

Kara snorts. “That really shouldn’t be funny.”

“Maybe not, but here we are.” Lena shifts a bit in Kara’s arms, cheeks a bit flushed from the adrenaline rush, and clears her throat. “Not to be rude, Supergirl, but do you think that perhaps we could continue this conversation… on the ground?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot we were, uh, flying.”

Lena chuckles as they ascend slowly back up to her office. “You forgot you were flying?”

Kara shrugs with an easy smile. “I guess you have that effect on me.”

Lena huffs a laugh against Kara’s neck, eyes squeezed shut again. They alight on the balcony, finding the two men still unconscious, covered in Kara and Lena’s lunch. Lena sighs as Kara sets her down, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, sorry, I sorta… panicked.”  

“I was so looking forward to a milkshake too…” Lena laments playfully.

“Well, then I have good news and bad news,” Kara says. She reaches out and gently wipes a bit of her own chocolate shake from Lena’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, tucking it into her mouth on instinct to get a taste of it. “The good news is, you do, in fact, have some shake on you!”

“Whats the bad news?” 

“Also that you have some shake on you.” Kara laughs, gathering the two men in her arms and hefting them a bit so they’re easier to carry. “I’ll get you another one. Be right back.”

She drops the men at the police station with a brief explanation before flying back into the office. Lena hands over her discarded glasses with a wry grin.

“I figured you’d need these before the police arrive.” She’s putting on a brave front, but she’s clearly still more than a bit rattled, if her too-bright eyes and thundering heartbeat are anything to go by. Kara steps closer and opens her arms in invitation, and Lena doesn’t hesitate to step into them. “Thank you,” Lena says fervently, tucking her face into Kara’s shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around Kara’s waist. 

“Always,” Kara promises, daring to press a reassuring kiss to Lena’s temple (and getting a bit of Lena’s strawberry shake for her troubles) before wrapping her up even tighter in her arms. “Are you actually okay?”

“I mean, my fear of heights has been reaffirmed,” Lena jokes, “but aside from that, I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I don’t like, love people pointing guns at you. Just so you know.”

“I’m not a fan either, for the record,” Lena drawls, burrowing even closer. “Even though I know you’ll save me, it still puts a damper on my day.”

Kara huffs a laugh. “Same.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Lena’s calmed down enough to stop shaking and calls her assistant (Audra, apparently) in, telling her what’d happened and that the police would be arriving shortly to take her and Kara’s statements, and please advise the security team to let them up discreetly. After the cops arrive, it’s a blur of questions, and Kara has to concentrate on telling the story of how she’d panicked and thrown the milkshakes at the men, and one of them had knocked Lena over the balcony (all true), and Kara had yelled for Supergirl, who had knocked the men out on her way to Lena (also technically mostly true. Technically. Mostly.). The police are sure to tell Kara that next time, she shouldn’t throw things at people with guns, and also to tell them both how lucky they are that Supergirl had shown up when she did.

“She’s always there when I need her,” Lena agrees, throwing a sly wink over the officer’s shoulder at Kara.

Kara just shakes her head and smiles. Even almost dying isn’t enough to make Lena not flirt with her. The woman is truly a marvel.

Kara’s comms crackle again, accompanied by Alex’s custom ringtone on her cell, and after assuring the police that she has no issue with giving another statement if they need her to later, hurries over to the DEO (making a quick stop in the back alley to change into her suit).

**

When Kara arrives, she’s told that J’onn and Alex are waiting for her in the Directors’ offices. She makes her way there, waving to the agents and scientists she knows. But it’s very weird, because every time one of them sees her, they start giggling before quickly hurrying off in the opposite direction. Like, literally everyone is whispering and pointing and giggling, and it’s giving Kara such visceral flashbacks to high school that it’s all she can do to not check her cape for a taped on sign that says ‘Kick me’ or ‘Freak’.

(Kids are mean.)

By the time Kara gets to her destination, she’s fully paranoid, sure that someone’s playing a prank on her, somehow, and that everyone but her is in on the joke. She opens the door with more force than intended and catches it just before the handle puts a hole in the wall, throwing Alex and J’onn a sheepish smile. She closes the door extra gently and leans against it heavily. J’onn and Alex just stare at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Busy day, Supergirl?” Alex asks, and after half a lifetime of spending time with her, Kara recognizes that she, too, is trying not to laugh. 

Kara’s had enough. “Okay, do I have something on my face? Or on the suit? Is someone messing with me?”

J’onn’s brow furrows. “No.”

“Then what’s the deal? Why is the entire DEO like… laughing at me? Did someone accidentally vent the lab fumes out into the main hub again?”

“No.”

“Did someone see me crash into that billboard last week?”

J’onn’s frown deepens. “What?”

“No,” Alex answers.

“Then why is everyone laughing at me?!”

“I mean, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s because of that,” Alex muses, nodding toward the big TV on the wall beside Kara.

She steps back to watch the news coverage of her dealing with the hostage situation this morning and frowns. “What, those guys? That was routine, what’s so funny about tha-”

“No, no, not that. That,” Alex clarifies, cranking up the volume.

“...reports are saying that the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor, experienced an attempt on her life early this afternoon. Sources claim that she fell from a considerable height-”

“Hey, she was pushed,” Kara corrects.

“Shh!”

“...caught by Supergirl, who may have gotten a little… familiar with her.”

And there’s a video (clearly recorded on a cell phone but not the worst quality Kara’s ever seen) of Kara catching Lena and slowing to a stop above the sidewalk, of them talking quietly, of Kara’s hand definitely on Lena’s-

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Alex drawls, clicking the TV off with relish, a large, evil-big-sister grin spreading across her face. “Congratulations, Supergirl- the world just watched you grope Lena Luthor’s ass.”

“But I’m not- I wasn’t groping, I was catching! My hands weren’t… If it was groping, I’d be all up on her, and I wasn’t!”

“Camera begs to differ. It’s already trending on Twitter in National CIty.”

Kara puts her head in her hands and groans. “Why?! I was trying to save her!”

“You were definitely trying to save part of her,” Alex agrees. “Granted, it’s a very nice part...”

Kara’s head pops up, and she shoots Alex a look that’s between a pout and a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Alex feigns confusion. “Am I supposed to be helping?”

“Alright, enough,” J’onn cuts in before Kara can retort. “We just wanted you to be aware. I don’t think that this is going to be taken for anything more than it is- a humorous moment in the middle of a successful rescue. You shouldn’t worry about the press.”

And truth be told, Kara isn't worried about the press- she’s worried about the fact that she’s going to have to face Lena after this. Lena, who she knows for a fact has google alerts set for herself, Kara Danvers, and Supergirl, a gesture which is normally actually sweet and kind but is right now definitely gonna bite her in the-

“Okay! So, is that all?”

Alex blinks, looks over at J’onn, and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Try not to make a habit of groping your crush when you’re in the suit.”

“I wasn’t groping her-”

Alex grins. “So you admit you have a crush? Interesting…”

“Alex!”

**

J’onn’s prediction is mostly right- no one seems to be taking the shots of her grabbi- saving Lena as anything other than a funny blip of a moment in their coverage of it.

He was wrong about the sheer scale. The clip had gone totally viral in a matter of hours, and seemingly every major network in the country has run the clip at least once as a bit of filler-fluff, and almost every major network anchor (including the ones at CatCo, the traitors) has made at least a passing joke about Supergirl being ‘Super-Handsy'.

Which means that Kara is very late getting back to Lena’s office with replacement food. But like, she’s been busy, okay? It’s not like she’s avoiding Lena, or something, because she’s embarrassed- which she isn’t, because she didn’t do anything bad or wrong and-

Anyways, it’s well past sunset by the time Kara gets to Lena’s office door again. She hesitates outside it for just a moment before shouldering the door open and knocking tentatively.

Lena’s attention jerks from whatever she’d been absorbed in to Kara, and a relieved smile blooms across her face. “Hey there.”

Kara finds herself equally relieved to not experience a repeat performance of earlier scary situations. “Hi,” Kara says, unable to resist smiling back. She raises the bags and cup carrier. “I bring grease and milkshakes. Again.”

“Oh thank god, I’m starving,” Lena says, rolling her chair away from her desk and rising into a deep and probably much-needed stretch. Kara very determinedly does not stare at the slight sliver of soft tummy that appears between her blouse and skirt at the motion. “I’ve been staring at this screen for several hours. And Sam called to yell at me- she says hello, by the way- she and Ruby are in town next weekend.”

“Good!” Kara crosses the room to the couch as Lena does, easily spreading out the veritable buffet of fast food she’d brought over the coffee table. “I mean, not good that she yelled at you, or that you’re still at work, Miss Luthor,” she says pointedly, receiving only an unapologetic shrug in response. “But good that, um-”

“I get it,” Lena chuckles, resting a hand lightly on Kara’s knee and boy, if that doesn’t make Kara’s brain go fuzzy and dumb again… “Thank you, for checking in.”

“Of course I was gonna check on you, Lena,” Kara huffs. “Plus, I know you probably didn’t get lunch, so…”

Lena hums around a mouthful of burger, chewing until she can politely speak again. “Well it’s delicious. Did you make it yourself?” she teases with a sly grin.

“Oh, yeah, totally. Slaved away over a hot stove for this- I just wrapped it in Big Belly wrappers so you wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

“Very clever.” Lena pops the lid off of her milkshake and drags a fry through it (an advanced culinary delicacy Kara had horrified her with initially but had eventually become a bit of a guilty pleasure). “Although I have to say, traditionally you’d have to buy me dinner before you grabbed my ass.”

Kara chokes on a pickle. “Oh no,” she groans, dropping the burger onto the wrapper on the table and dropping her very red face into her hands as Lena laughs beside her. She peers out from between her fingers. “I am so sorry, I was just worried about you hitting the pavement and like, catching you in the least jarring way and I wasn’t paying attention to where my hands were and I didn’t even notice until I got back to the DEO and-”

“Well I have so say, I feel a bit offended that you didn’t even realize you were copping a feel...” When the only response is another groan and a deep flush spreading from Kara’s neck to the tips of her ears, Lena relents. “Kara, Kara, it’s fine!” she laughs, pulling Kara’s hands away from her face and giving them a grounding squeeze. “Nia’s been sending me memes about it all day, which has improved my mood significantly. On the grand scale of fallout from assassination attempts, this one was at least funny.”

“I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but all it makes me wanna do is wrap you in bubble wrap forever,” Kara informs her.

“Pass on that. But seriously, don’t worry about it- I know it wasn’t on purpose- unfortunately for me, you’re too noble to do something like that,” Lena laments playfully.

And whether it’s the knowledge that Lena is not, in fact, upset, the overall weirdness that has been this day, or this delicious burger fueling it, Kara feels a bit emboldened. “Hey Lena…”

“Yes?”

“What if I wanted to grab your butt? Just, y’know, as a hypothetical. For future reference.”

Lena quirks a brow at her, fighting a smile as she contemplates this. “Hmm. Strictly hypothetically?”

Kara scoots a bit closer on the couch. “Sure.”

 “Well, you’ve already bought me dinner…”

“And lunch, technically. Even if I gave it to the bad guys.”

“True. Plus you saved my life, so that gets you some points, probably.”

Kara pauses in her sly scooching. “Oh, hey, wait, no, that’s not-” 

“Kidding, Kara. I know you’d never use that to your advantage. I, however, have determined that strong moral fibre and nobility do, in fact, earn you more points, which is my choice on the matter and you get absolutely no say in it.”

“Oh. Um, alright, I think.”

Lena stares off into the middle distance, tapping her forefinger thoughtfully against her chin. Finally she shrugs. “Yes, I think you’re fulfilled the prerequisites for a bit of grab-ass today.”

Kara snorts, Lena laughs, and soon enough Kara takes her up on the offer.

**

“Hey Kara, remember that time you grabbed Lena’s ass and it made international news?” Nia asks around a mouthful of mushu pork.

“You mean last week? Yes, I remember,” Kara drawls. Beside her/halfway sitting on her lap, Lena snorts.

“That was the best.”

Alex glares. “Um, excuse you, no. No it was not. I had to sift through so much thirsting over my sister on like, every social media platform. It was the worst day of my life.”

Brainy’s brow furrows. “Surely that cannot be correct, Alex. Statistically speaking-”

Alex holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Trauma can’t be measured, Brainy.”

Kelly chuckles and presses a consoling kiss to Alex’s cheek, and it makes the tough agent melt into a doe-eyed puddle of mush that Kara snorts. And she says they’re gross... Kara sneaks a glance at Lena from the corner of her eye, and she catches Lena looking at her. She leans close and jostles her gently as she drops her head onto Lena’ shoulder. “We’re never gonna live that down, are we?”

“Probably not.”

“We have the worst friends.” When this elicits nothing but a chuckle, Kara tips her head back to see Lena still looking at her, a soft smile playing at her mouth and shining in her eyes. And like, this whole thing they’re doing is new, with the kissing and the actual dates and the... everything else. But the thing where Kara catches Lena looking at her and she doesn’t look away? That freakin’ knocks her out, every single time. “Hey,” she manages.

Lena grins down at her. “Hi.”

So yeah. Maybe the initial circumstances weren’t ideal, and she doesn’t love the mockery that’s been heaped upon her by all of her friends and loved ones (including Winn, who’d sent a missive from the future that literally just said ‘LOL’). But the fact is, Kara muses as she surges up just enough to kiss the corner of Lena’s mouth, that she doesn’t regret a thing.

[supercorpkid]

Mind Controlled – The Series.

Part 2 – Pull the trigger.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Lex Luthor x Niece!Reader.

Word count: 2300.

Warning: Injuries, violence, pain, angst.

Previously on the series - part 1

You land on the same room, on the same building, waiting for Lex's voice to come out of the speaker with further instructions. You’re ready to do whatever he asks from you.

“You’re back, my bösewicht.” You hear his voice sometime later. “I presume you have done a good job leaving your mothers wrecked?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Such an obedient little monster. A Super with a Luthor’s brain. Why has no one thought about this before? Oh yes, I have. But they called me a mad man for it, and yet here you are.” And there you are. Standing still, staring at a wall, waiting for more orders. “In that stupid outfit, dear Lord, why would anyone be dressed in those stupid clothes?”

You look down on your super suit. You do look stupid. This stupid skirt, horrible boots, long sleeve shirt so tight if you were human, it would mark your skin. It makes you so sick you want to rip it off of your body.

“Nevertheless, with you playing pet for me, I can do whatever I want even still in jail.” The static comes again, but Lex doesn’t stop talking. “I should’ve known Lena would be greedy and want a smart and powerful kid. But I hadn’t had confirmation, that was until mother came here to visit and told me all about you. So impressed with her little granddaughter.” He lets out a chuckle. “I can’t imagine how infuriated she’ll be once she finds out it was her, who gave me the idea to mind control you.”

You think about Lillian, and how impressed she is with you. You give yourself a cocky smile. She should be impressed, you are impressive.

“Kryptonians might have strong minds, but Luthors? We’re unfortunately just humans. So my bright sister didn’t think that having a powerful kryptonian daughter with a susceptible mind wasn’t a good idea?” He scoffs. "Oh, Lena. You may try, but you will never be smart like me.”

There’s a loud breathing sound.

“That’s enough of chatting. I have better things for you to do, my bösewicht. You’ll break me out of jail when it’s time, but first-” There’s a wicked little pause. “Let’s destroy the Super name.”

Your body is suddenly filled with rage and wrath. You want to destroy everything. You want to drop a bomb in everyone’s head. You want to make them suffer.

“That’s it. Use your rage. Destroy National City, scare them, let them see you in your worst form. Let them fear the Supers, and then, come for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

You fly off the window, looking for a place to start. You want to cause damage, you want them to be scared of you, whoever they may be.

You start off by using your heat vision to draw the ‘House of El’ symbol in the middle of the park, so they know who’s responsible for all that it is coming their way. You watch the grass burning, the form coming along and your heart beats fast, enthusiastic.

You didn’t even start the destruction part yet, and this already feels fulfilling. You know exactly where to go next.

You fly to your training center and you look down. This stupid-ass place gives you no good memories at all. You got beat up, got yelled at, got annoyed every time your powers didn’t work like they were supposed to, got angry at people looking at you thinking you weren’t good enough. You remember their disapproving looks; you remember the tiniest of sighs you’ve heard.

Fuck them all.

Your heat vision hits the ground, and your heart gets heavy, but your powers never stop. You can almost taste the feeling of being a disappointment in your mouth. And it gets you incredibly proud of yourself. You want to disappoint them. Them being proud of you means nothing at all.

You look down on the entire place up in flames. This is the right thing. Destroying this place will send them a message. You are not their little pet anymore. They can’t keep you under a leash, pretending you’re not powerful and fucking special. You’re so fucking special, even Lex wants your powers.

It’s not long until Supergirl flies in front of you. You smirk at her looking down. There’s a powerful feeling cursing through your veins. You know she can see it too. Your hair blowing in the wind, your stupid super suit moving almost in slow motion, your eyes burning of rage with little flames dancing in the dark of your enlarged pupils.

“I believe you owe me an apology.” It’s the first thing you say, after unclenching your jaw. “You called me weak.” You spit, disgusted. “You were mistaken.”

“Deeply.” Kara agrees looking down, and you notice the cars from the DEO stopping, people getting out of them in desperation, trying to put out the fire. That makes you so happy. She looks back at you. “Is this what this whole thing is about? You’re trying to prove to me you’re strong, after all this time?”

“Trying?” You scoff, then your face goes back to a frown. “I don’t need to prove myself. Especially not to someone who uses her powers to stop bank robberies instead of having the world under her firm grip.”

“I know you’re not my daughter.” Kara comes a little bit closer; you don’t move. You’re not scared of her, but she should be scared of you. “Are you bizarro?”

“You’re too far consumed in this battle of ego to see right in front of you.” You tilt your head, letting a creepy smile dangle on your lips. “Don’t you recognize your little one, mommy?”

“If that’s the case, then I have to stop you either way, little one.” Kara does her whole superhero pose and you laugh at her.

“You can’t. You don’t have the stomach.” You look down to the ground and you see Lena there. “I see, you won’t be the one doing it. Clean hands, right? Let the Luthor hurt the Kryptonian. It’s the natural order of things.”

“I’m sorry, my love. It has to be done.” Supergirl flies towards you in one motion. You still try to fly away, but she is a little faster, so she grabs you easily. You push her, punch her, you even pull her hair, but she doesn’t let go.

She lands on the floor with you wrapped in her arms, and Lena comes closer. Kryptonite gun in hand. Soon, you’re surrounded by agents with their own guns. Supergirl lets you go, flying above you, but not leaving, in case you decide to make a run for it.

You look at Lena. Gun in hand. You listen to her heartbeat going crazy and you smile at her.

Let’s play, mom.

“Do it.” You dare. “I want to see you pull that trigger. I want to see you hurt your own daughter with Kryptonite.”

“I don’t want to do this, baby.” Lena assures you, taking a small step towards you. “I promise you, I’ll figure out what’s going on with you. You just have to come with me.”

“You’ve always known, haven’t you?” You lock eyes with watery green eyes behind the gun. “You’ve always known someday the Luthor genes would shine through. Because no matter how good the Super gene is, the Luthor one is worse. So, so bad. Rotten to the core. You’ve always known I wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“I’ve told you before. We are not Luthors. We are Luthor-Danvers, and that means something. Please, stand down. Let me look at you.”

“Tell me to stand down one more time and I’ll throw-” You look at one guy on your left and point at him. “That guy into space.”

“Baby.” It’s Lena’s last try, you can see it in her face. You can see the way her finger presses lightly at the trigger. You also hear how that makes everyone else do the exact same movement.

“I’m not going to run away. But I won’t surrender, either.” You defy her. “If you want me to go with you, then you have to do it. You have to pull the trigger and you have to live with the guilt all your life.”

“I’m sorry it has come to this, baby.” But her face doesn’t hold much sentiment, nor does she lower her weapon. “But you know I have to do this. You can’t go on pulling stunts like this. You can’t keep thinking there are no consequences to your actions.”

“You are not sorry.” You smirk. “Don’t try to play me for a fool, Lena.” It’s the way her name leaves your mouth that makes her flinch. “I know you’re dying to pull that trigger and be the one who tamed a Kryptonian once again. It’s what all Luthors want in the end.”

She pulls the trigger, making you fall on the floor in pain, after a blast of kryptonite hits your chest.

“You should be so satisfied now.” You whimper. Kryptonite filling your body. “You’ve used kryptonite on your wife, and now on your daughter. It’s a full circle, isn’t it?” You spit out your words.

Lena puts you in handcuffs that strip you off of your powers, and strokes your cheeks gently. Eyes full of tears and instant regret.

“I’m bringing you back, my baby. I promise you.” She whispers delicately, like she’s not even talking to you anymore, but maybe to the memory she has of you.

But the two agents that come from behind you don’t pick you up delicately. In fact, they seem very pissed at you, and you’re shoved into the back of a van where Alex is.

“Aunt Alex.” You start with your bitchy tone and Alex breathes deep.

“Listen kiddo, I’m not in the mood.” She shakes her head, upset. “You just caused us millions of dollars in damages, Kara is a wreck, and don’t even get me started on Lena.” Alex raises her eyes from her tablet. “I know you’re not yourself, that’s why I don’t give a fuck about this. You start talking? That gag goes in your mouth in a second. Don’t think you can play me like you did with your moms.”

“I think the story would be really different if Lena hadn’t cuffed me and stripped me off of my powers.” You raise an eyebrow, not breaking eye contact. “You’re scared of me too.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” Alex smiles unbothered. “I’ve dealt with things much worse, and much scarier than you and your babyface.” She grabs the gag and looks at you. “Now shut it, or I’ll make you.”

You decide to shut up. Your quarrel isn’t with Alex and the last thing you want it’s to be shut up. The best course of action is going willingly, and working something up in the DEO, because you know for sure there is where they’re taking you.

It’s Alex who shoves you inside of a cell, when you get there. Locks the glass door, and turns on some red sun lamps. You bite your mouth at the idea of it. They are very scared of you; they keep finding ways to strip you off of your powers.

It takes a few minutes until you hear talking on the other side of the glass. You can’t see them, or hear them well enough, but there’s one voice that stands out. You bitch grin to yourself.

Let’s play, momma.

"Mommy” You use your best and sweetest voice. Kara comes closer to the glass cell, and you stare at her from the other side. You want to destroy this place brick by brick until there’s nothing left, but you know if you’re aggressive about it, they won’t let you out. “Please, let me out. Can you open the door, please?"

"Kid, I'm sorry but we have to understand what's-" Kara starts, but you interrupt her.

"I'm begging you, please, please mommy." You drop on your knees. Tears falling from your eyes, and that act allures a crowd. Lena and Alex soon join Kara on the other side.

"Baby, I'm sorry." Kara gasps, and you watch Lena’s hand squeezing her shoulder reassuring. “You know I want to-”

"You said you would protect me. This isn't protection.” Your tears stop falling, you’re angry again. The act isn’t working. You clench your fist, using all the strength you have, trying to focus so the anger doesn’t consume you. You feel the palms of your hands burning, with nails digging into your flesh. “Please, this isn’t fair. Mom, please, do something.”

"I swear this is for your own good." Lena takes a deep breath, not buying into what you’re saying. Great. You’re done faking either way.

“FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT OF THIS CELL!” You bang on the cell, screaming as loud as you can. You see your blood leaving hand-shaped marks on the glass. Your scream is loud, but the banging is louder.

“Baby, please, you have to calm down.” You hear Kara’s voice trying to sooth you. It gets you angrier.

"FUCK YOU TOO! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT NOW!" They look at the blood splashed onto the glass. Your face is burning red, and Kara flinches at the sight of you. Lena doesn't, so you know your best shot is with your momma. "Kara, I swear if you don't open this cell right now, I will hate you until the day I die."

“That’s enough.” You hear Alex’s voice and the glass turns black. You can’t see them on the outside, and you know they can’t see inside either. You can’t hear their voices, so you suspect they’re not listening to your unrelenting yell anymore.

Fuck. You need a new escape plan.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 5)

Summary: The reader has finally hired a replacement manager and after a dinner with her family, she and Jensen confront some underlying feelings...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: mature (language, smut (m/f))

A/N: Enjoy!

A/N #2: Written for @spnkinkbingo​

_________

You stretched as you woke the next morning, getting ready for the day of entertaining your family. You bumped into Jensen in the kitchen, a pair of jeans and a simple black henley on him. You smiled but he frowned and you instantly made a face.

“Y/N, don’t turn off your phone ever. It’s a rule, remember?” he said before returning to slurping up his cereal.

“Oh. Sorry. I forgot,” you said.

“Please try not to do it again,” he said. He finished with his bowl and you took the cereal from nearby, pouring yourself some. “Are you deciding on a new manager today?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of that David guy?”

“The british one?”

“No, that was the Mark one. He was scottish I think. I’m not positive,” you said.

“Is David the one that had that intern? The little guy?” he asked.

“Alex? No, he was his just his driver. It doesn’t matter. I was thinking of David. What do you think?”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“You did full background checks on all of these guys,” you said. “Who do you trust?”

“Honestly?” he asked. “I like Jake.”

“The young one?”

“He lacks the experience of the others but I don’t see him screwing you over. He was a navy cadet in college. Had to drop out due to a knee injury. Him I trust. Not that I don’t the others but I got a good feeling from the kid.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” you said. He stood and you grabbed the milk, Jensen wiping off his mouth. “Have fun with your sister.”

“She’s got a work thing at the moment but hopefully she wraps up soon and I can take her out for some fun for a bit. I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

“Later, Jay,” you said, getting a wave from him as he walked out. You poured the milk into your bowl and took out your phone, dialing and hearing a ring tone a few times.

“Hello?” the other end answered.

“Hi, Jake? This is Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you were still interested in the manager position? If you are, you are in for a fun first day with that restaurant photo.”

“Mmm. Smells great in here,” hummed Jensen when he walked into the kitchen that evening. Your mom smiled and immediately rushed over, Jensen tensing up as she gave him a hug.

“Mom. Don’t bug Jensen,” you said.

“It’s alright,” he said, noticing your brothers were nowhere to be found. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Oh his arms are even bigger than you said! He’s handsome too,” she said. You rolled your eyes as you worked over the pot at the stove, Chuck turning around beside you and chuckling. “Jensen, this is my husband, Chuck.”

“Nice to meet you sir,” said Jensen, holding out a hand.

“You know everything about us already, don’t you,” he said as he shook it.

“Pretty much,” said Jensen. “Y/N’s safety is important and knowing about her family is part of that.”

“Well we certainly feel a lot better with her hiring someone. We’ve never been fans of her living alone,” he said.

“Y/N is quite capable. I’m just here to stop those situations from ever happening,” said Jensen.

“You will be joining us to eat, won’t you? Y/N and Chuck are making us dinner,” said your mom.

“That’s very kind of you mam but-”

“I insist,” she said.

“Just let it go Jensen,” you said. “This’ll be done soon if you want to tell the guys.”

Your parents headed outside, Jensen taking up Chuck’s spot beside you and stirring the cooked vegetables in the pan.

“None of them have any idea about the fake kidnapping or anything else, do they.”

“Nope. Nothing besides what happened last night. Michael and Nick know about the manager thing but that’s it. I’d prefer to keep it that way,” you said. The timer went off and Jensen got it, pushing some of the food around with a wooden spoon.

“They won’t hear anything from me,” he said. “Smells delicious.”

“Thanks. How’d it go with your sister?” 

“Good. I need to discuss something with you later after your family is gone for the night.”

“Everything alright?” you asked. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, the back door opening. “Let’s dig in while it’s hot.”

“Jensen,” you said, finding him out by the pool that night, his feet soaking in the water. “My folks and the wonder twins are gone for the night.”

“Wonder twins,” he chuckled. “They act differently when your parents are around.”

“You picked up on that huh.”

“It’s pretty obvious,” he said. You sat beside him and stuck your feet in, Jensen leaning back on his palms. 

“What’s going on big guy?”

“Are you asking as my boss or my friend?”

“Friend,” you said, bumping his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“My sister wasn’t too happy to see big brother on the news nearly getting shot at. She asked me to consider a different line of work,” he said.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m not quitting, just so you know. A random guy running from the cops doesn’t scare me. Only reason I was on the news was cause of you,” he said.

“There’s a but in there somewhere though.”

“No, not really,” he said. “Just wanted to talk to you about it.”

“So there’s no problem.”

“I like when there’s no problems,” he chuckled. “My job is a lot easier when it’s simple like that.”

“You still have your gun on you.”

“Precaution,” he said. He sat up and took it out from behind his back. “You ever shoot one?”

“Pretend but real no, I haven’t. Can I hold it?” you asked. He set it in your hands, watching you look it over for a moment.

“You’ve had gun training,” he said.

“First season went through a lot of that stuff on the show. We get refreshers,” you said. “Colt?”

“Yes it is,” he said. “You use a glock on your show I believe.” 

Your head popped up and he laughed.

“Yes, even I do occasionally watch TV. Nice gun safety. You never leave your finger on the trigger.”

“Not supposed to, even with a fake gun they taught us,” you said. You lifted it up and held it out, finding it to be heavier than the one you were used to. “I like the grip.”

“You’d probably like a smaller Colt, fit your hands better,” he said. You handed it back to him and he tucked it away. “You see where the safety was on it?”

“Yeah?” you said. He reached behind himself and took your hand, guiding it to the back holster. 

“If I can’t use this, grips on the right side. Take it out, flick off the safety, point and squeeze. It’s that simple.”

“I sincerely hope I never have to put that into practice,” you said as he dropped your hand. Your finger brushed against his back, Jensen frozen solid before you pulled away.

“Any day I don’t have to touch it is a good one,” he said, your hand settling back in your lap. “That...tickled was all.”

“Green beans and tickling. You got some funny forms of kryptonite, Ackles,” you said. 

“Beats actual kryptonite,” he said. “Been awhile since I’ve been tickled.”

“I bet you like it. Being able to feel vulnerable and safe with someone.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Your feet kicked in the water, a smile growing on your face. He bumped your shoulder and your turned your head. He looked different, a softness about him. 

“Are you happy?” you asked. 

“What?”

“Are you happy? I...I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose this job over other things in life, like a relationship. You can have both, Jensen.”

“I’m lost.”

“I’m just saying...you can have a girlfriend and be my bodyguard. You don’t have to pick one or the other.”

“Girls get jealous,” he said. “In my experience. The hours are crap. The inconsistent schedule. I’m too…”

“Too what?”

“Last girlfriend I had...I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” He rubbed the back of his neck and you lightly nudged his foot in the water. “She thought I was too broken for a normal relationship.”

“What?”

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” he mumbled. He started to stand but you grabbed his arm, Jensen sighing and turning to you. “What? I think she might have had a point.”

“I think that was horrible of her to say and I’m sorry she never saw the real you cause him? He is so not broken.”

“You have this perfect image of me. Strong and capable. Dominant. Alpha. In charge, gives no fucks. That’s the bodyguard. That’s not me.”

“I know. I know Jensen likes being tickled,” you said. He rolled his eyes but you caught his chin, Jensen swallowing. “I know he likes the touch of soft fleece and expensive navy boxer briefs. I know he likes classic rock and sleeping in and likes two cream, one sugar in his coffee. I know he talks to his parents every Thursday night for at least an hour. I know he’s quiet around people he doesn’t know and I know he opens up when he’s well and truly comfortable with someone. I know he’s kind and I know he has nightmares sometimes. I know he can play the piano and guitar and he sings in the shower when he’s happy and he checks on me at night and puts my blankets back on me and doesn’t say a word about it, even when I thought he hated me.”

“You pay attention to me,” he said quietly. “Even though you don’t like me around.”

“I don’t like the bodyguard. He’s okay sometimes but a bit much all the time. But Jensen...him I like. I like him alot.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done. What’s been done to me.”

“You’re not broken, Jensen. I’m never going to believe that so don’t even try.”

He put a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in close, so close you could feel his breath  on your face. 

“You’re supposed to tell me I’m screwed up. We’re not supposed to be friends. Don’t you understand that?” he said. Your nose pressed against his, green eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand that,” you said. “What do you want?”

“I can’t have what I want,” he breathed out.

“You might be wrong about that. Actually, I’m positive you are,” you said, his hand sliding up a few inches into your hair. “Stop being scared and just tell me what you want.”

He leaned in the last inch between you, gentle lips connecting with yours. He didn’t move for a few seconds, eyes opening when he inched away just slightly. You stared at him and you saw him get the message, another kiss landing on your lips, his free hand sliding around your back. Your arms went over his shoulders, Jensen leaving kitten kisses on you before connecting roughly, giving your whole body a squeeze.

“Bedroom,” you breathed out. He moved back long enough to take his feet out of the water. He hoisted you up and carried you inside, your arms and legs wrapped around him as you returned to kissing him. There was a light scratch from the stubble on his jaw and you tugged on his bottom lip, Jensen pausing as he tried to shut the door behind him with one hand. 

You took the opportunity to tease him, kissing under his jaw while he got the back door shut and locked, his hand slapping the alarm system and the little ping saying it was armed. He arched his neck back and spun around, pushing you up against the wall. You squeezed him tighter, getting gentle bites along your collar bone.

He tore the two of you away and rushed you upstairs, stepping up onto your bed and walking forward on his knees until he could lower you down to your back. His eyes looked darker but playful as he moved up and leaned over you.

“Condom?” he asked.

“I’m on medication,” you said. “You clean?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Same.”

“Good cause I really don’t think I can wait any longer to do this,” he said. He tore off his shirt and you immediately shot your hands up to his chest, running your fingers down it. 

“You’re so damn hot,” you said. He rolled off the bed and dropped his pants, giving you time to get your shirt off. By the time your head wasn’t covered, you had a perfect view of his ass, creamy and perky. Your bra went off quickly, Jensen turning around and making you pause.

“What?” he asked, glancing down at himself and then you.

“Lucky me,” you said. He smirked and you kicked off your shorts and underwear, Jensen crawling back on the bed and hovering over you. You kissed him and he planted his forearm by your head, his other hand trailing down to your breast. He kneaded the flesh gently, swiping a thumb over the bud and getting a tiny gasp out of you. He teased the same nipple with light touches and twists before working the other one over.

By the time his hand made its way between your folds you were soaking wet already.

“How do you want it?” he murmured against your lips, circling your clit lightly with his thumb.

“Want what?” you asked, arching your hips up into his touch.

“Slow. Fast. What do you like?” he asked, kissing your jaw as your breath hitched. 

“Show me how you’ve imagined this going,” you said. He smiled and you felt the head of his cock brush you folds. He teased the head against your clit a few times before you reached down and were guiding him into your hole.

He was a smidge thicker than you were expecting and his length was perfect, solid, long but not too much. He surprised you by wrapping his arms around you pulling you to sit up on his lap, your legs hanging around his waist. He thrust his hips up and you bit your bottom lip, landing back down on him. He moved again and hit your g-spot, your jaw dropping.

“That’s the spot,” he murmured, kissing you as he started a slow and steady rhythm. You hung on for the ride, his hands on your thighs, thick cock pumping into you over and over and over again. You’d been able to play on your own and hit that spot but never with a guy, never had that low pressure simmering in your core.

God it was going to fucking destroy you when it hit.

You couldn’t wait.

You smiled as your nerves tingled, Jensen kissing you all over, his grip strong but everything else soft and gentle. His hair started to dampen with sweat and and you felt a layer cover your body, the steady pace getting you both closer. 

He was nipping at your shoulder when you rolled your hips, Jensen grunting lowly and burying his face in your neck. That was a sound you could definitely do with more of and you did the motion again, Jensen pushing you onto his cock this time. You both moaned, Jensen’s slow pace picking up just a hair.

You were rolling your hips when his tip pounded inside of you and the low pressure started to explode inside you. You gasped and weren’t even sure what the hell kind of sound you’d made, suddenly aware of hot wetness filling you up. Jensen tensed up and slowly started to stop moving, your breath finally coming back to you as he stilled. He dropped his forehead on your shoulder and panted, your hands running up and down his back, playing with his hair some.

You giggled, Jensen letting out one himself and you swore your heart couldn’t have melted any faster. You picked your head up as he did, giving him a long kiss. He rested his forehead on your own, a smile dancing across his face.

“That was the best sex of my fucking life,” you said. He smiled hard and lowered you back down to the bed, holding up a finger. He pulled out and took a few shaky steps before going into your bathroom. He returned with a washcloth, wiping you clean. He tossed it back in the bathroom before he bent down to his pants. You frowned, Jensen looking back as he unclipped his holster from his belt. He walked it over to the unused nightstand and set it on top before he slid next to you. You pushed the covers back and slid under the sheet together, Jensen rolling you close to him and up against his chest.

“I don’t hookup,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You shut your eyes and burrowed in a bit closer, Jensen pulling you to use his chest as a pillow. “I really liked that. It was fun.”

“We should do it again sometime,” he said. He turned his head and you smiled, Jensen moving a stray piece of hair away from your cheek. 

“I would be much safer if you slept close by, wouldn’t I?” you asked coyly, Jensen already seeing through it.

“Oh yes, much safer.”

“Maybe you should sleep in here from now on...for safety.”

“In the name of safety, for sure,” he said, kissing your temple. “Real talk for a second. If this is just a hookup for you can you let me now over-”

You put a hand over his mouth and stared at him, slowly moving it away and giving him a kiss.

“I like you, Jensen. I really like you.”

He smiled and took your hand, laying it over his chest so you were holding him.

“Goodnight,” you said, kissing his shoulder.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, lightly dancing his fingers over your hip. “Sleep good.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

[spacedikut]

(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?”

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

[pleasantwizardphilosopher]

Roll over, baby

I’m currently obsessed with the song “Roll over, baby” by LANY, I just find it extremely relatable, the lyrics have gotten to my core. I think is because I feel like being on a relationship is just that, choosing constantly to meet each other halfway. And the, out of literally nowhere, an idea popped into my head and I decided to write a Supercorp fic based on that song, here’s the result, I hope it warms your heart the same way it does to me.

You can also read it in AO3, please leave kudos if you like it

Most of the times we see eye to eye

They don’t fight. Not usually at least. After being together for three years and more than four of friendship it is hard for them to encounter a situation that escalates. Sure, they argue sometimes and more than frequently hold different points of view, however, they are also capable of understanding each other, to get each other’s views and where they are coming from, they know the other perfectly after all, their buttons, fears and insecurities.

And it’s not like us to be staying up to fight

Today, today is different though. It’s almost midnight and Kara just came back (was brought back) to their shared apartment after going solo in a mission to stop a 5th dimensional imp. She was meant to wait for Brainy and Lena to build, an prepare for launch, a stunning beam that would momentarily cut the connection between their rouge alien and the 5th dimension powers, so Kara could step in as Supergirl along with Nia and take him down. However, waiting a few more minutes was apparently a little too much for the Kryptonian since she headed there by herself after 10 minutes of restless pacing in the Tower. The fella was causing trouble downtown, destroying several local businesses and a school, no one was injured though, still the Girl of Steel couldn’t refrain from being helpful and decided to go by herself.

“It’s going to be fine Lena, I’m just going to play bait while you guys finish off the slowing beam and then we can just send him off to one of our holding cells” she said confidently, just before bursting out of the Tower’s balcony. Barely spearing a second to kiss her on the lips.

She didn’t play bait.

She became an alien boxing bag for the being. He was more powerful and attuned to the 5th dimension than they all, Kara particularly, had anticipated. After a rather violent fight where Kara ended up severely beaten up, he had the guts to threw her into the 5th dimension and afterwards they both vanished.

They spent a whole week trying to find her and bring her back. When they did, she had been held captive in a pocket dimension, restrained with kryptonite cuffs. She was absolutely disoriented and extremely weak, having spent a long period of time under the effects of the green rock. Moreover, the problematic imp kept running rampant trough the city and letting loose God knows what. The Superfriends were torn between stopping him and bringing the hero back. At the end, they concluded that the more productive outcome would be to restrain him and then force him to bring the Kryptonian back. One problem at a time.

They set up a trap. Brainy and Lena designed a quantum net that followed Schrödinger’s principle, the space held by it simultaneously existed, and it didn’t, they had to use nanotechnology capable of producing a quantum field, theoretically, it would allow them to break his connection long enough to be restrained, albeit the challenge would be to find his exact location within the quantum realm. However, they needed someone within the range of the net to bring him down. J’onn was the chosen one, since he is the second strongest among them, that way Dreamer would stay behind with the rest of the team in case something went wrong and J’onn needed backup, or in case the net didn’t work, and they needed to move civilians to safety.

Fortunately, the trap worked, and after being thoroughly interrogated by Alex, he brought Kara back. They were absolutely relieved to see her unharmed, mostly, since all her battle injuries were worse than previously thought, due to having been cuffed with kryptonite for a prolonged timelapse and deprived of yellow sunlight. Her injuries were tended by Alex and Lena, and then she was sent to spend several hours under the sun lamps. Nevertheless, after a few hours she was totally bored and wanted nothing more than to go home, her sister agreed, knowing the genius of a woman had sun lamps installed all over their place.

Most of the time, yeah, we’re so in love

What did I do? What did I say? What’s up?

“How could you?!” she yells, even though she is trying not to lose her bearings, jade-green eyes sparkling with anger and clouded by fear. “We told you to wait for us! We are a team, Kara” They had come back, and as soon as they crossed the threshold her fiancé asked her why she was being so reserved, they had barely exchanged a few words, not even a greeting kiss or a ‘welcome home’ hug. It was the drop that broke the dam.

“I had to go! It is my duty to protect the people of National City and that guy running rampant through the city was definitely withing my responsibility, someone could have gotten injured for Rao’s sake” the blonde reboots with all her might, her voice straining from the effort to keep it leveled and not scream at the CEO. Tears threaten to spill from stormy blue eyes.

“And what about me, us, our friends! Did you even stop to think about how much it’d hurt us to lose you?!” It’s meant to be scolding, using her best boardroom voice, but it comes out as barely above a whisper. She stares intently into sapphire blue eyes.

“I know that you have to protect those who are more vulnerable, I’m not asking you to deny that part of yourself, I’m just asking you not to be so reckless, to wait for backup, you can’t do things on your own” the green-eyed woman voices, hesitantly, pleading.

“I am thinking about you Lena, and the others, every single second, every moment that I put on this cape I do it for you and them, so you can be safe, can’t you see that?” it comes out as a tremor, her voice wavering, a silent tear streams down her cheek.

“I see it all the time, but why can’t you understand that it is not your responsibility to be the hero all the time, that we are there to help you through it?” the genius pleads, voice quivering, more tears smearing her makeup. Forest green eyes seem cloudy with unshed tears.

The Kryptonian scoffs, “It IS my responsibility, I’m the one who has this powers and I’m trying to do good with them” she states in a hoarse voice while raising her hands and waving exasperatedly, a glint of anger flickering in ocean blue.

“Uh-huh, no! You’re not seriously telling me that. I thought we had moved past your god complex, you can’t fix everything!” she hisses between gritted teeth, her hands are clenched into fists, and she has to stop herself from shoving her finger into the blonde’s chest.

“Maybe I can’t but that doesn’t mean I should stop trying! You knew what you were getting into when we started dating! It’s not my fault you forgot” she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth, she can see the shift in kryptonite-green eyes, all defensiveness gone, substituted with hurt and insecurity.

“Lena…no…I-“, the blonde stammers, but it is too late. Lena is turning on her heels towards their bedroom, not even sparing her love a glance. Her shoulders slumping and her head is low, almost ashamed, she could hear the jump her heart made, it sounded painfully breaking. She is left there, alone in their kitchen. With a groan she drops her head in her hands and tries to regulate her breathing and organize her thoughts.

Tomorrow we’ll be just fine

But let’s not waste tonight

Kara peeks into their bedroom, is really dark but she can still make out Lena’s form, she’s laying on her side, facing away from the door, her hands are covering her moth, or so she guesses, from the way she’s positioned. Even without superhearing she’d still hear the soft sniffles and sobs coming from the woman. Her own eyes start filling with tears, knowing that her impulsiveness has led them to this. She bites her lip, reclining against the doorway.

After a moment of consideration, she pushes herself off the door frame and moves towards the bed. The blonde slides under the covers and scoots closer to the CEO, her whimpers are a lot more evident now, being so close to her, she can see the way her body shakes slightly with every new wave of tears. The scent of cinnamon that is Lena’s signature fills her nostrils and she wills herself not to cry harder. Laying on her side she reaches a tentative hand to caress the raven-haired woman’s arm.

Roll over baby, don’t be upset

When she doesn’t pull away from her touch, she slides her hand down her belly and scoots closer. She pats around blindly for a few seconds until she finds the slender alabaster hand she was looking for. She intertwines their fingers and starts rubbing smooth, tender circles over her knuckles, squeezing it slightly every now and then. They stay like that for a while, until she can hear her breathing even out and some of the tension leave her body, she places a soft kiss on the back of her neck, then, she pulls her hand softly, coaxing Lena to turn around and face her.

She does so slowly, albeit without hesitation. The Irish woman’s eyes are red and puffy from crying, there’s a little snot on her shirt and her cheeks are marred with drying tear trails, a light pink blush is dusting her cheeks. She looks up at her fiancé, her gaze seems sad still, although the hero can make out a little curiosity as well. Kara starts scooting backwards, to the edge of the bed, bringing Lena along with her, never letting go of her hand. Once she’s standing, she drops the raven-haired woman’s hand and studies her closely. Pleading blue meet curios green, the CEO is looking at her questioningly from the bed, she extends her hand palm up towards her love.

How can you fall asleep when you feel like this?

So, come on, baby, let me hold you instead

“Dance with me” the Kryptonian murmurs, as if she was afraid to burst their small bubble. Or maybe of breaking this little moment, still in time.

Lena looks at her hand warily but takes it with a nod, nonetheless.

The Girl of Steel takes them back to their living room, taking out her cellphone, she shuffles a little and settles for a soft song, placing her phone on the coffee table, “Roll over, baby” by LANY starts filling every corner of their living space. She moves to where Lena is standing and places both her hands on her hips, pulling her tenderly into her body, neither of them are wearing shoes, so she’s a little taller than the CEO, deep blue eyes search for forest green. Automatically the raven genius throws her arms around her shoulders, resting her head in the crook of the reporter’s neck. They are very close to each other, their fronts pressed together in a sweet embrace. Kara starts swaying them softly side to side, pressing her cheek against Lena’s, her thumbs rubbing circles on her lower back, over the worn NCU t-shirt she wears for bed. And it is somehow perfect, the warmth coming from the alien is comforting, protective. Their bare feet padding over the wooden floor, lavender and vanilla filling her nostrils.

After a few moments, Kara leans closer to Lena’s ear.

Meet me halfway from your side of the bed

“I’m sorry for not listening to you, you’re right I throw myself head-first into dangers all the time, it’s easy to forget that I have people guarding my back” she breathes, barely audible. Her hot breath tickles slightly.

“I sometimes get this wild idea that I have to be there for everyone and be the hero every moment, every step of the way, it’s in those moments where the world’s weight seems heavier than ever on my shoulders, and I get caught up in it”

“I should also apologize, sometimes is easy for me to forget that you have a huge sense of duty, that I love, and that you feel responsible for everyone in this city” the CEO answers just as quietly, her breath tickles Kara’s neck.

She pulls back a little to stare into sapphire-blue, the one she never gets tired of, she doesn’t think she ever will “but I want you to know that it is not a burden that you have to carry on your own” it’s tender, breathily. She starts scratching Kara’s nape and playing lightly with the baby hairs there, “that’s what you have us for, darling, to share the weight, knowing that we love you and will always stand by your side in your crusades” She turns her head slightly and places a feather-like kiss on a tanned cheek.

Roll over, baby, oh

Roll over, baby

Kara closes her eyes and tightens her hold around her lover’s waist, placing a kiss on the top of her head when she feels the CEO snuggle closer and bury her face on the crook of her neck again, she knows it makes her feel safe. The only thing they hear ins the melody of the song, still playing on the reporter’s phone, and each other’s heartbeats.

Just let me pour you a glass of wine

I’ll sit right here, you can say what’s on your mind

“I’m always terribly afraid of losing people that are under my protection, I get so blinded that it’s easy for me to lose sight of what’s really important, of those who truly love me for being Kara, not Supergirl” the reporter confesses after a few silent moments. “I won’t put you in that position again, Lee. If it were you the one who throws themselves into danger, I’d probably lose it, and it was selfish of me to think it’s any different from you” she croaks, her voice thick with emotions and unshed tears. Unable to look at the green-eyed woman, she buries her face into dark strands of hair.

I know you know I’m on your team

You tell me I got work to do and I agree

“I know you are this powerful being that most of the times can handle herself properly and independently, you are a miracle by yourself, but that doesn’t mean that you are invincible, and asking for help is okay, darling” she scolds gently, knowing that it’s sometimes hard for the hero to admit vulnerability, she turns her head and places a tender kiss on a strong shoulder. “And you’ll always be my Kara, that clumsy reported that stumbled her way into my life, who gets easily flustered, but also, someone whose heart is so big, filled with love, hope and compassion for all, I admire you, every day I am to be as good as you are, and I’m grateful to have you in my life, I wouldn’t want it any other way”, it is admitted shyly, with a dimpled smile that is specially reserved for Kara. Green eyes shining like perfect emeralds. They continue swaying slowly, the city blocked out, everything else forgotten.

Tomorrow we’ll be just fine

But I want you tonight

Roll over, baby, don’t be upset

How can you fall asleep when you feel like this?

“Sometimes I can be a handful, but I promise I’ll keep working to be better for you, I want you in my life, Lee, now and forever” she says confidently, moving a little so she can stare deeply, intently, into emerald-green eyes. The bluest eyes are staring at her so lovingly that her knees buckle slightly, however, the Kryptonian easily holds her and keeps her upright. Pulling her impossibly closer.

The love she is seeing in blue is stronger than anything the CEO has ever experienced in her life, like drowning into cotton clouds, an open summer sky, knowing that she’ll never let her fall, being loved so freely and fiercely makes her melt every single time, her heart swells with love and she feels like she’ll combust momentarily.

Both women start leaning in slowly, green never leaves blue.

So, come over, baby, let me hold you instead

Meet me halfway from your side of the bed

They meet in the middle. Their lips connect into the sweetest of kisses. It’s heartwarming, floaty, and it never seems to get old, no matter how many kisses they’ve shared over the years. It still make their arms fill with goosebumps, and her fingers tingle, turning into a puddle at the simplest brush of lips. Soft lips move against each other in another entirely different kind of dance, with practiced ease they fall into a well-known rhythm. Kara pulls away first and doesn’t hold back the satisfied sigh that falls from her lips. Warm air caressing plum lips, which curve up into a smile, before Lena can even process it, she’s leaning in again, capturing pink lips into another loving kiss.

Roll over, baby

Roll over, baby

Roll over, baby

When they finally separate, their foreheads are resting together, it no longer matters if one of them was reckless and behaved rashly, what matters is them, now, holding onto each other, choosing one another, in their night clothes, swaying in their living room under the midnight moon. The city and heroism, they hold nothing against them, in this moment.

“I love you” Kara whispers into Lena’s ear.

“I love you, too”

Come on, meet me halfway

From your side of the bed

Come on, meet me halfway

Let me hold you instead

[thekrazykeke]

title: just keep breathing

fandom(s): fallen hero rebirth/retribution

pairing(s): wei chen x sidestep. ricardo ortega x sidestep. wei chen x ricardo ortega x sidestep. ricardo ortega x wei chen. 

playlist/song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMkz9JF7teY

rating: t+

summary: maybe it’s not about fixing what’s broken. maybe it’s about starting over and creating something better.

warning(s): pre poly relationship, comfort food, pining, mild spoilers for the alpha build, angst and hurt/comfort.

Listen. 

I played Fallen Hero Rebirth and rated it a solid 9, and the story initially left me crying my eyeballs out but mildly confused, wanting to understand things. So I replayed and replayed and replayed. I picked up things and the clues started fitting together. I paid for the Retribution alpha build and I’m still crying my eyeballs out at night over it but I wanted resolution. I wanted to give (one of) my character(s) a light at the end of the tunnel. 

So this is what it is. Or an attempt at it because FHR is really quite dark and not for the faint hearted. Those warning tags are not for show. 

Sidestep’s name is Tyndall Bowman in this one.

~

It happens on a Sunday. The last weekend before a new month started, technically.

Ortega frequently visits Chen’s apartment and brings food, lightly ribbing the other man for his lackluster kitchen space. Chen’s routine response becoming less and less exasperated each time. 

You think that he not so secretly fears that you’ll both starve or subsist off canned food and cheap takeout. ...Which probably isn’t a far off assumption, considering the implication day one of your temporary living situation.

It could be considered sweet, if it wasn’t so very funny. (You had to get your kicks somewhere).

Your legs are still broken. 

Progress is frustratingly slow. 

You’d tried to move to a schedule of crutches-only by the second week out of sheer boredom and the flat look Chen had leveled in your direction caused you to nix that idea stat. 

There’s a tension between Chen and you now. 

Not to say that there rarely isn’t tension, but that’s usually due to an aftermath of an argument. Now? Now, you’re aware of him. Aware of him in a way that you’d only been aware of Ortega.

Fucking hell.

Someone’s knee brushes lightly against yours, breaking you out of your reverie. You glance to the left and catch sight of Ricardo watching you with soft, worried eyes. Chen also watching, but less obvious in his concern, features more stoic, controlled. The three of you are in the living room, they are siting on the couch, you’re in your wheelchair. 

They probably asked you something and you were zoned out.

The lie is on the tip of your tongue, “I’m fine,” you mumble and grip your bowl which has half melted blueberry swirl ice cream and salted caramel cheesecake. Sweets are your kryptonite but Ricardo has pulled out your top favorites...

“You’re fine?” Ricardo scoffs, his tone skeptic. 

A muscle jumped in your jaw. “Yep, just fine,” you reply, using your spoon to scoop up some ice cream, take a bite and enjoy the flavor. Refusing to give an inch and let him win. 

The two of you had played this game many times, too many actually, and it usually ends with you being the one to fall for the prodding, and then you get angry, lash out. 

Walk away.  Only this time you can’t. 

Another scoff. “Typical. You do this every time, you know.” There’s a surprising amount of bitterness in Ricardo’s voice now. 

“Ricardo,” Chen starts to interject, the strain clear in his voice. “Tyndall. Stop.”

It’s too late though. 

Placing down the bowl on the nearest surface, freeing up your hands, you clench then unclench your fingers, trying to avoid cracking your knuckles. “And what about you, then huh, Saint Ortega?” The sneer on your face is ugly. “You’re always on about me being honest with my feelings and talking, but the truth of it is, you’re just like me, or worse!”

Ortega looks dumbfounded. As if he can’t believe you’d dare to throw the truth in his face like this, so obviously. He recovers quicker than you’d like, much to your annoyance, though. “...Maybe so,” he acknowledges, his voice softer. Enough to lull a more gullible individual into complacency or just anyone not paying attention. You know better. “That’s a topic we can revisit in a moment. I’m more curious about how long the two of you expect me to play the idiot here.”

Unwillingly, your eyes dart to Chen’s, then away. 

Not focusing on any particular point in the room. Does Ortega know that you’re Mastermind? Since when, and did Chen tell him? Or is he bluffing right now and he doesn’t know? Is he talking about something totally different than what you’re thinking about?

Quick! Think up an appropriate answer and throw him off the trail!

“....I don’t....know what you mean.”

That’s not what you should say!!

Chen sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He looks pretty much done with the both of you right now, not that you can blame him. “Be clearer, the two of you have a propensity for telling half truths which leads to the majority of these absurd arguments.” 

Ricardo winced and you feel the sting from that particular burn as well. 

“In response to your statement, though, no one is expecting you to play the fool.” He looks a little nervous, guilty. “ I... We’ve kissed.” There’s a pinch to his brow, the tips of his ears turning pink. “That wasn’t an example of being a good friend to you, kissing Tyndall and murkying the waters further when I knew the two of you were...” There’s a pause as he tries to find a word for what you and Ortega shared before you and he tentatively stopped antagonizing each other and bonded over Spoon. 

You snorted, lips twisting into a wry smile, “The phrasing of that sentence makes it sound as if I found it a chore to kiss you or something.” Chen cuts you an admonishing look which you temporarily ignore as you turn to glance at Ortega who’d been watching the byplay between you and Chen with an unreadable expression. For the nth time, you wish you could read his mind, and at the same time, you’re grateful that you can’t. 

“...He’s right though. It was an epically shitty thing to do, kissing your oldest friend, who’s probably had a crush on you since he’s met you, while we were kissing. Totally and unnecessarily complicated.”

He just looked at the two of you for a moment. Then Ricardo sighed heavily, running a hand over his face, wearily. “Esto es un desastre.”

You say nothing, staying quiet because honestly, you agree. This is a mess, and it was poorly handled, on all sides. You’d already spilled the beans about Chen having a crush Ortega before it got to this point because you sincerely thought the conversation should have come up properly over seven years ago, your ‘death’ should have been a nonfactor. 

They likely would’ve been a couple already if they weren’t such obtuse idiots.

“Okay... okay...” Ricardo seems to have come to a conclusion. He nods resolutely, turning all his considerably intense focus onto Chen who seems taken aback by it. Leaning forward into the other man’s space, slow enough that it’d be easy to shove him back, but of course Chen doesn’t. Ricardo’s hand went to the nape of his neck, lightly urging Chen forward, the other man obeying that silent request, and in the span of a breath, they’re kissing.

Your don’t avert your gaze, as much as you want to. 

This is a private thing, you shouldn’t look, shouldn’t stare like a pervert. 

‘Isn’t this what you knew would happen?’ Of course, your brain isn’t nice. 

This is what you wanted right, for them to get their act together. 

Humans falling in love with each other is normal and acceptable. (Although your education depicted of men and women falling in love, primarily). It happens all the time. 

Such emotion is a luxury a Re-Gene cannot afford, nor can they sincerely feel it, that’s what you were taught on the Farm. So resistant to the idea of going back to being treated as an unfeeling thing, your re-education had been particularly brutal.

“Whatever horrible thing your mind is telling you, it isn’t true.”

Once again caught off guard, lost in thought, you’re unprepared for Ricardo to kiss you. He tastes faintly of blueberry swirl ice cream and sweet tea, and maybe it’s your imagination, but maybe even a little bit like Chen. It’s that stray thought that has you jerk your head, trying to turn away from him. “W...what the hell, asshole?”

He snorted. “You know you sound really cute when you curse.” 

Baring your teeth, you snap, “Tomber d'une falaise!” Although the idiot clearly didn’t know what you said in French, basically telling him to fall off a cliff, it didn’t stop him from dramatically clutching at his chest, as if he’d been stabbed in the heart; he could probably guess it was at least an insult.

“Stop teasing him, Ricardo.” Chen admonished. Ricardo mock pouted. “I mean it. Can’t you see that he’s overwhelmed?”

“I am not overwhelmed!”, you vehemently protest.

“Out of your depth then,” Chen countered and before you could complain that it was pretty much the same thing, only with differing meanings, he continued on, “What our resident idiot is clumsily trying to show instead of explain, is that he wants both of us.”

“If you want a threesome, fine. It’ll have to wait, as I’m a bit physically impaired at the moment.” You’re almost surprised by the bitterness in your voice. 

Chen stared at you for a brief moment and then he braced both hands on either side of your wheelchair. Heart slowly turning over in your chest, oddly feeling as if you’re caught in the gaze of a hunter, you stubbornly keep eye contact for a second or two, but can’t maintain it for long. That doesn’t stop him from murmuring in your right ear, “Stop being so stubborn. Stop lying. You want this. To be in a relationship with both of us.”  A brief pause. “Correct?”

Fucking hell... 

Swallowing thickly, wondering the logistics of how that would work out. Wondering if you were about to once again make a horrible mistake. Then again, since you’d come back to Los Diablos, since Ortega found you again, that’s all you’ve been doing so far, haven’t you. Making mistake after mistake after mistake. 

“Yes.” 

As Chen’s left hand buried itself in your curls, taking control, tilting your head back, idly you wondered if the next time you hit the ground, if it’d hurt less. This is after a freefall into madness, it feels like, and twice as foolish. Yet you surrender, and you stop thinking, enjoy the kiss. 

[aros001]

Going in blind: Watching season 2 for the first time. Random thoughts.

Huh. Only 7 episodes. Not complaining necessarily. For series with an ongoing plot I've definitely become more in favor with their seasons only having as many episodes as they need rather than them having to stretch themselves out to full up a certain number of episodes, which can lead to padding and just bad character moments.

Episode 1: Jeez. Catra visiting Shadow Weaver's cell just to rub her success in her face and verbally abuse her back for once. It's like a twisted version of Zuko and Ozai from ATLA. Catra's upbringing under her was abusive but this is far from a healthy way for her to deal with it. She's basically deliberately swimming in her resentment.

Episode 2: It's not that I'm rooting for her but by-golly was it fun to watch Catra act like just the absolute worst she could while she was Glimmer and Bow's captive.

I touched on this in season 1 but part of the drama of the heroes feeling guilt over leaving Entrapta behind is kind of lost on me a bit simply because it was her own fault it happened. She deliberately went back into the purge room because of her machine obsession, which then closed on her and erupted in flames. It was more than reasonable to assume she was dead and no one but her was to blame, so I'm not really able to be invested in their guilt over it.

That said, weirdly enough I do like that her "abandonment" doesn't seem to be even a blip on the radar for Entrapta herself. She hasn't joined the horde because she resents the heroes or felt left behind, she simply is so obsessed with machines and experimentation that she'll be on the side of whoever lets her do the most of that. Like, it's selfish and irresponsible but it's very in-character and I'd far rather have a traitor motivation be based in that over something stupid like a misunderstanding.

Episode 3: I love the mental image of Shadow Weaver thinking up princess-themed ghost stories to tell Adora as a child.

So, if the previous She-Ra Mara separated Eternia from the other realms/planets/whatever she did and that's what cut off the She-Ra line for 1000 years, I'm guessing Hordak may be from the time before that happened, thus his drive to create portals and calling Eternia a backwards world. Either he's naturally long-lived or his technology is extending his life.

Episode 4: You know, you could maybe argue it was vague enough that it could be taken other ways but I'm definitely getting some vibes here that Scorpia is crushing on Catra. She literally refers to the two of them as soulmates at one point. I know she says she's trying to be friends but this feels a level beyond that.

Fun little reference to the original She-Ra cartoon thrown in there (and maybe Cowboy Bebop...? James Bond...? What was Glimmer's art style supposed to be?). I like how it is more like just playful ribbing than anything outright dumping on the original. Again, I've never seen original She-Ra but whenever remakes/adaptations go out of their way to trash to the original I always kind of wonder why they bothered doing an adaptation if the original is just that bad? Also, I was having trouble sleeping so it was about 2am when I watched this episode and the very Eartha Kitt Catwoman Catra made it very difficult for me not to lose my **** and stay quiet. With how much of a contrast that version is from the one in this series, that was hilarious. Bonus note, it's a nice touch that Frosta's version of Catra is a pretty crasher in that sweet suit, since that's the only impression of Catra she's ever had.

Adora being a chosen one is definitely elevated up simply by how much the pressure of what she's supposed to be is getting to her. I'm likely going to keep making Avatar The Last Airbender comparisons throughout the series but that's partly because I went into this series figuring it'd be at least structured similar to ATLA (season 1 being more episodic and a little more kid-friendly as it builds up the world before getting more serious later). Adora and Aang are interesting to compare here. Aang's worries early on were less apparent because he was more in-denial/choosing not to think about his problems that much, which fit with his character as a free-spirited Air Nomad. While Adora is much more military-minded. She can't keep herself from thinking about her problems and trying to prepare for the worst-case scenario. And jeez, that idea of who/how Catra is in her mind. Not only beating her but making her watch as she takes everything she cares about away. Not Shadow Weaver, not Lord Hordak, but Catra. That whole Lion King Mufasa/Scar moment between them in episode 11 and their fight in the S1 finale really did a number on her mental image of her old friend. Not reasonably so.

Minor note: I'm sure I'm the only one who got this impression but by the look of it, the way the robot's eye moved, and the music, after getting the soda spilled on it that little spybot gained sentience for half a second and then immediately died. It was so darkly comedic I had to laugh.

Episode 5: So that red disc is basically She-Ra's Red Kryptonite, having an effect on the mind rather than the body. The drunk Adora joke doesn't really do it for me but it did get some nice interactions going between Scorpia and Sea Hawk, two characters I certainly wasn't expecting to bond. I did really like Catra's panic when berserker She-Ra nearly beheads her. The implication is that is Adora really wanted to kill her Catra would already probably be dead. It's a thing I like about powerhouse characters like Superman or Aang, who could just demolish everything around them and don't simply because they're a good person...which in turn makes them the scariest person on the planet when they're well and truly ticked off. I'm not going to lie, I do kind of want to see a She-Ra version of Aang when Appa was stolen or when Superman fought The Elite.

Also, Catra's line of "I have control over Adora. I'm not giving that up for anything.". There's a lot to read into there.

Episode 6: I guess my prediction was sort of right. Shadow Weaver became basically a magic parasite and while it did increase the power she's capable of the implication seems to be that she needs a constant fix of magic to keep herself going, thus her attachment to the Black Garnet.

Have we seen Micah before? Given how long ago the flashback seems set, the fact that Shadow Weaver didn't kill him and thus he probably becomes someone important later in life, I'm guessing he's Glimmer's dad and the queen's late husband, since I think he's the only important male character whose face we haven't seen yet. Also, he's voice by Ezra from Star Wars Rebels and that cracks me up for some reason. It's the exact same voice and a relatively similar character.

I compared Catra and Shadow Weaver with a kind of twisted version of Zuko and Ozai and that definitely still fits here. Both Catra and Zuko confront their parent and call them out for the inexcusable abuse they put them through but while that moment was the start of Zuko's upwards journey this and SW's betrayal seems like it's going to cause Catra to spiral even further. Makes sense why Adora leaving affected her so much. She's probably the only one Catra's ever had that she could consistently trust and rely on, even if she did somewhat resent her.

Not surprised Hordak is getting along with Entrapta. She's not socially aware enough to be scared or intimidated by him, so she'll speak frankly, and since all she wants to talk about is the machines, experiments, and how they could get them to work Hordak probably doesn't take much issue with that. She's producing results, which is what he cares about, thus also why Shadow Weaver and Catra started losing favor with him. I wonder if Catra is going through imposter syndrome? Shadow Weaver had that line that Entrapta earned her place next to Hordak and, if you think about it, Catra hasn't really "earned" anything. We saw that she didn't really take her training or studies that seriously, showing up late to combat practice and even getting partial credit for what Adora beat. She wasn't promoted to Force Captain because of her own abilities but because Adora had defected when she was supposed to get that title. She's come close to a few victories but never really had any except for Glimmer and Bow's kidnapping...whom she then basically let escape when she returned Adora's sword to her. She doesn't have the slightest clue how the horde's bureaucracy works when trying to get things done, like simply getting troops armor. Given how much better than her Adora always was and how little she herself has to her name, I wonder is subconsciously Catra believes she doesn't deserve her current position and thus why she's fretting so much over trying to prove herself.

Episode 7: Am I mistaken or did Bow's parents say that he's the youngest of TWELVE siblings? I was going to ask whether Bow was adopted or if his dad's used a surrogate or if maybe there's even just simply magic in She-Ra's world that allows two people of the same sex to have a child together but now I'm just focused on the 12 kids thing. I get nervous just imagining myself having more than one. You should see me when I'm with two cats. I have to pet both of them because I'd feel like I'd be making one feel left out and like the other is the favorite. I'm a mess with kids.

The dad with dreadlocks (Lance?), his design looked familiar to me and I finally realized it reminded me a of a fanart design for a human Grim from The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. Very different voices between those two characters though.

I wonder if there's any significance to the robot protecting the crystal having the same design as those in the artic in episode 5? Obviously both have the connection to the First Ones but the robot in the forest who was also protecting First Ones' tech had a more insect-like design over these more worm/Graboid ones.

I'm kind of curious what Hordak would have done if Catra had told the truth. Given his interactions with her and Shadow Weaver he doesn't seem like the time to tolerate failure but I suppose the implication here is that he at least would respect those who own up to their failures. Or I suppose more simply he was just testing to see if she would lie to him and since she did there's little merit in keeping her in a position of authority anymore where she could lie about important things again.

Season 2 verdict: Still enjoying it. Another person on this reddit recommended I view seasons 2 and 3 as one since they are basically just one season split in two. I was going to do that but this ended up longer than I thought I would, so I'll just do 2 and 3 separate to keep them semi-organized and easier to read.

I think overall Catra is my favorite character since she has the most interesting backstory, interactions, and just general path through the story out of everyone. She's like Pearl from Steven Universe or, well, Zuko. There's just so much baggage there that she's trying and kind of failing to deal with. I'm always invested in whatever's happening when she's onscreen. Hordak so far is a good big boss villain for Adora to face but Catra is a good archenemy for her.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/o027y3/going_in_blind_watching_season_2_for_the_first/

[supercorpkid]

What the hell, you’re in hell.

Part 2 of T is for Trauma - The Series

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

Word count: 2040.

Warnings: kidnapping. Injuries. Angst.

Previously on the series – part 1

Things have not yet fallen into place with your moms. Of course that, as a family, sometimes you all say things you didn’t actually give too much consideration and end up kind of hurting each other’s feelings on the way. Most of the time, there’s a big apology, hugging and crying. You haven’t done any of those things during the night, and in the morning, you were kind of late for school so you didn’t have time to talk to them. To be fair, you didn’t even see them since your big blow out.

So, after school you say goodbye to Jamie, and decide to walk to L Corp. Since people are now paying more attention to the sky, you don’t want any more pictures of you flying around for a while. You don’t know how your momma pulls off not being recognized just by using glasses and a ponytail, but you sense you might not be able to do the same.

You’re on your way to L Corp to finally talk to Lena. You know that you hurt Kara too, but you did worse with Lena saying you didn’t expect better from her. That was shitty of you, and you know it.

Sure, there were also a bunch of things that you said that were totally true. Now that you think about it, you were only trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care that they never show up at your science fair, physics decathlon, or anywhere else in the school aside from the principal’s office to hear something bad about you. You don’t know why they stopped doing that when you got older, but not seeing their proud and loving face in a sea of people that hate you, really did a number on you.

Jamie has obviously noticed that this was the reason you left in the middle of the event, and she went all therapist Olsen on you and told you, you should tell them the truth. Tell them it hurts, that you miss them there, and apologize for saying it so aggressively.

So, your plan is talking to Lena first, and then buying some donuts and flying to CatCo right after, so you can talk to Kara. You could never know none of these plans would come true.

You’re walking, when you pass a black van parked close to the sidewalk and you feel something burning in your body. That’s so weird, you’ve only felt like this once. And only when you’re shot with a Kryptonite bullet.

You try to run, but your legs feel wobbly, and you can’t go very far before your legs give in and you fall on the ground. You look behind you, to a guy leaving the van, and going towards you. You take off your glasses to see inside the van, but you can’t see anything.

“Lex was right, Kryptonite always works.” You hear when the guy is in front of you, but you can’t see his face, it is covered with a black mask. You know they have kryptonite, but you have to call your momma for help. You put your hand on the watch and he notices your movement. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, child.” He easily lifts you up by the wrist, and takes the watch out.

He is not just a normal guy. You can see by the way he lifts you up like you weigh nothing. He either has super strength or some other kind of power.

“What do you want from me?” You manage to ask and he laughs right at your face. He walks back to the van, you’re still hanging a few feet off the ground, by the wrist. You look around to see if no one is seeing this clearly evil person carrying a girl to a black van, and your answer is that no one is. And the ones that are, certainly don’t care.

“Why would I want anything from a child?” He throws you in the van and you look around to see the kryptonite. It’s so close to you now, that you feel the burn going inside your bloodstream, and you whimper.

You look outside at the man’s hand, and you see him dropping your watch on the ground. He was smart, not to take it with him, ‘cause Kara could track you with it. Your hand goes instinctively to your necklace, as long as you still have that, Lena can track you.

“What do you have there?” One of the other guys notices your hand and tries to take it away from you. You fight, punching him with all the strength you have left, and he falls back with a hand on his nose. But you can’t fight all three of them, not while being exposed to Kryptonite. So, they snatch the necklace out of your neck and dump it on the street.

“No, please, no. It’s just a necklace, it’s my grandmother’s necklace, please.” You cry out, but they take no pity. They close the van and drive you away for good.

You want to take the high road, you really do. You want to go quietly and pretend that you don’t care about the fact that you’re being kidnapped right now, but if there’s a slight chance that Kara can hear your cry for help, then you don’t really care about taking the high road.

So you cry and you scream. You do everything you can to get help before you’re taken to Rao knows where, but help doesn’t come.

You try to use your x-ray vision to know where they are taking you, but, and you can’t believe you’re thinking this, these kidnappers are kind of smart, because they covered the van in lead, so you can’t see out, and Supergirl can’t see in.

“So you work for Lex Luthor. Why is he sending people to kidnap me?” You scoff, with not so much strength left in you.

“I don’t work for Lex!” He yells looking extremely offended by your insinuation. “He simply gave me some ideas, but I’M the brain of this operation.”

“Ok. Then what do you want from me?” You ask again, not satisfied with the last answer. “If you want to fight, stop the car and I’ll fight you!”

“No offense, but I can’t fight you. You’re like twelve.” Offense very much taken, excuse him. “I can’t fight a kid. And I don’t want to anyways, I want Supergirl.”

“Why?” You should’ve known. You always knew someday you would get into serious trouble because some evil jackasses are trying to get to your momma, but right now? While you’re in the middle of a fight with her?

“You’re too young to understand!”

“I’m not too young!” He scoffs like he is sure you’re twelve and you huff. “I’m sixteen!”

“Boss, you said we were kidnapping a kid.” Says one of the other men, looking at you in shock.

“It’s not my fault she looks so young.”

“So you’re ok with kidnapping a kid, but not a teenager?” You ask one of the guys and he looks back at you.

“Shut up, I think you broke my nose, you stupid shit!”

You open your eyes, and look around. You don’t remember closing your eyes in the first place, so it is very surprising when you open them and find yourself in a low light lit room. The only thing you see clear is a chair, and the ‘brain of the operation’ in it.

“Hello child.”

You want to punch his face so badly, but you can’t. They have you wrapped in chains with kryptonite in the middle. It burns so much you can’t even get up from where you’re lying on the floor.

“How long do you think it will take for Supergirl to find you?” He mocks and you try to use your x-ray vision to find out where you are, but it’s all made of lead. “I do think we made it too hard for her. She can’t track you. She can’t see through lead… I wonder if she will find you before the kryptonite kills you because of over-exposure.”

“Let me go.” You grunt, your voice almost gone and you hear laughter in response.

“Your mother put me in jail for years. I had a child too, you see. Now he is a man, and wants nothing to do with me.”

“Is there where you met Lex?”

“Why are you so interested in Lex Luthor? Oh, yeah. He is your mom’s arch enemy” He tilts his head to look at you. “I told him all about my hate for the Supers, so he gave me some ideas. And I guess he was right. I mean, just look at you. You look like you’re dying and I didn’t even have to hurt you.”

“You shouldn’t follow Lex’s footsteps. He is sentenced for a lifetime.”

“I thought you were dying, but you are way too talkative for someone who’s dying. Should I black you out again?”

“Supergirl will find me and you’re going back to jail to keep Lex company for the rest of your lives.” You growl between your teeth.

“I might. Or you might die first and I’ll have the last laugh. I guess we'll see.” He walks to where you are. “I must say, it’s an incredibly powerful feeling to make a Kryptonian bleed.” He stomps on your head, and you see nothing after that.

When you wake up again, you can taste the blood on your mouth. You feel weak and nauseated, and your ears are ringing loudly. You don’t open your eyes, because you also hear muffled voices. It’s hard for you to make up the conversation with the constant noise in your ear. You focus on the conversation, and try to forget the pain you’re feeling.

“She’s totally green. Look at her. She looks like Shrek.” Laughter. “Maybe she died already?”

Nope, still pretty much alive and suffering, thank you.

“Maybe coming to Gotham was a little much. Supergirl will never find her.”

Gotham? Fuck. He is right, your momma might not find you before you die of over-exposure.

“I’m so bored. Let’s go grab something to eat. She’s either dead or dying, so who cares?”

Well, he is right. You are dying.

You open one eye, the one that was not directly stepped on, and you see you’re indeed alone. Ok, you’re dying, but you’re not dead yet. What can you do?

There’s not much in the dim lit room, or at least not a lot you can make out with your one watery eye, anyway. There is one thing, only one thing that can help you. An old radio system. The best kind.

You force yourself up. Your head is heavy and you barely can’t leave it up. You can’t stand up, so you crawl to it. The taste of blood is strong on your mouth, your stomach is twisting and growling inside, you know you’re minutes away from throwing up all over yourself and passing out again.

You open the radio, you’re not even sure how, do you still have super strength? Is it just poorly made? It doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters right now is that you are able to pass your location to someone.

- - . .. -

-- .. -- .- -.

You press the button a few times and close the shell again, crawling back to the place you were, and laying down while panting because of the pain and the effort. You close your eye, and pray to Rao your message is received by them. You pray they’re looking for you. And you pray you don’t die before telling them you’re sorry for all the things you said, and that you love them more than anything in the universe.

It doesn’t take long until you hear the men coming back to where you are. You stay completely still, and even hold your breath to make sure they don’t notice anything.

“See, I told you. Dumb girl didn’t even move. She dead, man.”

She ISN’T dead. But if she gets out of this, you might be, you stupid shit.

[jessicajonesrp]

Demise of Dorothy Walker

(continued from previous note)

  “Wait…how many times has she jumped out the window today, exactly?” Trish questioned, tilting her head with some obvious confusion. “Jess, are you aware that windows can be opened before you jump through them, if you’re that opposed to doors?”

 Jessica ignored her, wiggling out of Trish’s loosened embrace and taking several steps back, crossing her arms over her chest as though to defend herself from any further attempts at being given affection. She nodded stiffly at Luke, attempting to take in what he is saying.

 “From what the kid in the apartment said and what I saw on the surveillance film, before he fucking destroyed it, it doesn’t seem like he needs much more than a look. I don’t know, maybe he needs a certain amount of time, or access to his inner rage, who the hell knows. But maybe not. I don’t need anything to jump or punch someone, so why should he?”

 “But you might have limitations that you don’t know about, or some sort of kryptonite that you have to avoid,” Trish pointed out, siding with Luke. “I’ve always told you that you should be doing more to understand your abilities. Who knows, Jess, they could be time limited, you could suddenly lose them one day, or maybe if you use them a certain amount of times they just stop or something. They might even be hurting you internally somehow, every time you jump or hit something, and you don’t realize it until you drop dead some day.”

 “Cheerful,” Jessica said sarcastically. “I’ll cross my fingers, maybe we’ll all be so lucky.”

 “Not funny,” Trish said sharply, narrowing her eyes at her. “I’m serious. You need to understand what has made you what you are, now more than ever. And you need to understand what has made Phillip who he is.”

 “He killed the people who made us who we are,” Jessica pointed out. “What am I supposed to do, search for a secret diary? “Dear diary, today I injected Kangaroo Hulk chemicals into a girl and Pyro chemicals into a boy, I sure hope it causes world chaos?” Something like that?”

  Trish looked at Luke for help, sighing. “I know you’re upset, Jessica,” she said quietly. “But we’re the ones supporting you. We’re the ones trying to help you, so if you’re trying the pushing away thing you love to do, it isn’t working, and it’s not going to make you feel any better. I’m not asking you to be happy, but save some of the venom for the people who deserve it.”

 Jessica’s cheeks reddened, and she swallowed, biting down the inside of her cheeks with shame she didn’t want them to see. She tried to cover it by turning to throw away her now empty bottle.

 “Fine. Guess we backtrack. I’ve got the contact information for the woman who started all this, the wife of the third doctor he killed. Let’s see what sort of contacts she might know to put me in touch with.”

  88

 Six miles away, Phillip Jones and his long term girlfriend, Rikarah Pallaton, were casually seated across each other at the small kitchen table of Rikarah’s apartment, laptops open side by side. Rikarah’s apartment, although not especially large or fancy, was far more comfortable and lived-in looking in its appearance than Phillip’s rented motel room had been, and there are far more indications of a man’s presence within its interior. Before contacting Jessica at all, Phillip had actually first been living there with Rikarah, and he had kept only enough of his belongings at the motel room for daily, necessary use- just enough to make it appear that he had no other place of residence. Although he had spent most nights there in the past several weeks, just in case Jessica or one of her associates happened to be watching him, it was never intended to be more than a temporary cover address.

 The only person he felt himself to belong to was Rikarah, and the only place he wished to reside would be wherever it was she chose. For the past few years he had followed her in her frequent relocations across the country, content to join her and at times assist her in wherever she felt lead to be and whatever she felt lead to do. They had met at a bar some four years ago, on a night that Phillip had intended little more to get drunk and hook up with someone, but it hadn’t been long before he discovered that there was far more to Rikarah, his intended “someone” of the night, then met eye. The dark-haired, pixie-featured beauty with darkly themed tattoos over her torso, barely visible peeking out the edges of her tank top’s neckline, carried far more steely strength and sharply focused intelligence than her slight frame would ever indicate.

 Rikarah, much like his sister, was a self-appointed vigilante, Phillip had discovered over time as she gradually let him into her world and her view of her life’s mission. Although she, unlike Jessica or himself, rarely, if ever, used her own supernatural abilities, and rarely did more for a living than bartend, waitress, or sell her own artwork online or in sidewalk sales, she nevertheless carried a power and purpose that Phillip at first was in awe of, then became seduced into emulating. For the first few years of his adulthood he had drifted, aimless, alone, and feeling that there was nothing to his existence that was worthy. Life held little to interest him, and he felt little connection to the world or anyone in it, even himself.

 Rikarah had changed that. In her quiet, steely-eyed focus on her view of truth and justice, she had changed his life and forever altered its course. She had opened his eyes to the grade power he possessed and the responsibility this charged him with to use it for the world’s benefit. How could he not, when he had so much potential at his disposal?

 Rikarah was physically weaker and smaller, lacked the sort of super powers that could be used on a daily and practical basis for protection or defense, and had no more money or family in the world than Phillip himself; if anything, she had been given far less in the way of advantage. And yet, by the time she was seventeen years old, she had already begun her life’s mission of identifying, and then ending the lives of people too twisted up in their abusive behaviors to deserve them. And she had started out with her very own family.

 Over time, Phillip had come to understand and believe in Rikarah’s view of the world, and to accept her view of his responsibility to it. It was she who had urged him to find those who had persecuted himself in his childhood, to take them out before they could harm others. It was also she who encouraged him to find his sister Jessica and insert himself into her life, to begin to know her- and to gradually bring her to understand their view of the world, in hopes of bringing her to join them.

 They both saw Jessica’s involvement in the death of Kevin Kilgrave as a very promising sign. If she had killed once, for the good of the world, it shouldn’t be too difficult to bring her into accepting the idea of killing again for the same reasons.

 But Jessica had been quicker to catch on than they had expected- too quick, even for the fact of her being a private investigator by living. Phillip blamed Patricia Walker for that. The woman had been interfering with his sister’s life since they were barely teenagers, and now her claws had sunk so deeply into her that Jessica couldn’t seem to separate herself from her influence. Without Trish there, it would be easier to sway Jessica into their way of thinking. And the easiest way to weaken Trish, from what Rikarah and Phillip had come to understand, was to first remove her mother from the picture.

 It would have been done anyway, at some point. It was because of Dorothy Walker that Phillip had grown up apart from his sister, living in abusive homes. It was because of her lies that Jessica had thought him to be dead for more than half his lifetime. She was a liar, a con artist, and a child abuser, an opportunist of the worst kind, even towards her own daughter. The world would not suffer for her loss, and its gains would be considerable.

 88

 The plan was simple. Rikarah had subtly tracked the woman’s routine for the past several days, and when Phillip let her know that the time had come for them to make their move, they arrived separately at her address, following at considerable distance. They had assumed and been correct to see that Dorothy would disregard Trish’s warning for her to leave town, too arrogant to assume anyone could want her dead or be successful in making it happen. Rikarah waited for her outside of her talent studio for up and coming young actors and models as Dorothy made her way to open for the morning, with Phillip following at a distance. As Dorothy moved to unlock the door, clearly intending to go about her day as usual to bully young girls in the name of “career advice and advancement” all while making considerable money, Rikarah called out to her in a cultivated mix of hesitation and urgency, stepping into her peripheral view.

 “Ms. Walker? Ms. Walker- you’re Patsy’s mother, aren’t you? Dorothy Walker?”

 She had deliberately used the name that Dorothy preferred to call Trish rather than Trish’s own preference, in a subtle alignment with the woman. Dorothy turned slightly, narrowing her eyes as she looked Rikarah up and down. Finding her to be physically unthreatening and not recognizable, she raised her eyebrows at her.

 “Yes? Do you or your daughter have an appointment with me today? I don’t take walk ins, young lady, but if you want an appointment for yourself, let me advise you now that you should consider acting over modeling. You have the figure for it, but hardly the height.”

  She turned back to unlock the door, but froze when Rikarah spoke again.

 “Please Ms. Walker, it’s Patsy. She’s…I don’t like to do this, go behind her back, but you’re her mother, and I feel like you should know before anyone else. You have a reputation in this town, you’re so respected, maybe you can do something to help before it’s too late for her-“

 “What’s happened?” Dorothy demanded, spinning around fast and facing Rikarah fully and with intensity. “Keep your voice down, if she’s doing something to ruin her reputation again- we can’t have this discussion out where just anyone can hear! Just who are you anyway?”

 “I’m Emily Oliver,” Rikarah lied smoothly, and when Dorothy looked blank, she added, “I was an extra on It’s Patsy, they used me in party or school scenes a lot. I don’t expect you to remember or know me, Ms. Walker, but I’ve always followed and admired you and Patsy. I hate to see her destroy herself now when you’ve worked so hard to repair her reputation to everyone. That Jessica Jones, she-“

 “I should have known it would have something to do with Jessica,” Dorothy hissed under her breath, shaking her head grimly. “That girl has always been a thorn at my side from the day she- but never mind, we can’t have this conversation out here. Emma, was it? Come inside, before the girls start arriving.”

 She gestured for Rikarah to follow her, and Rikarah started to, then hesitated.

 “Wait- I left my phone in my car. Someone sent me some photos of Patsy, they thought it was funny, I guess, but- maybe if I show you, maybe we can stop them from getting out to the media. Maybe-“

 “Yes, yes, go get your phone, make it quick, now,” Dorothy said impatiently, nodding her head and flapping her hand as though to dismiss the younger woman. “Meet me inside. I’m locking the door, I can’t be having clients come in and overhear this. Ring the doorbell when you’re back, I’ll let you in.”

  This was exactly what Rikarah and Phillip had been hoping for; they couldn’t have planned a better set up themselves. Nodding, biting her lip theatrically, Rikarah turned to walk towards the parking lot, taking her time about it, even as she watched out the corner of her eye to check that Dorothy did indeed go into the building and lock the door behind herself.

 Now it was all up to Phillip. Retrieving her phone, she texted him a single word, “okay,” and he was ready. Exiting Rikarah’s car, even as she slipped inside it, he casually walked past the studio, hands deep in his pockets. To anyone passing by, he would look no more than a person on his way somewhere, uninterested and uninvolved in anything suspicious.

 As he passed directly in front of the front door, he paused, looking towards it. With a few moments of intense concentration, he visualized Dorothy, waiting for Rikarah within. Twenty seconds later, screams burst into the air, and the sound of smoke detectors blared forth shrilly as Dorothy Walker’s skin began to burn.

 With the same casualness as before, Phillip continued to walk, bypassing the dying woman as Rikarah pulled out of the parking lot. Several blocks later, as she stopped at a prearranged stop sign, he slid into the passenger seat beside her. Mission accomplished.