#lena’s asks

[ynverse]

Your final breath really did follow

HELP… i haven’t been in the mood to write so i’ve just been a lurker to other ppls posts :P

[fox-guardian]

[ID: Digital drawings of the OIAR staff from The Magnus Protocol as anthropomorphic cats on a gray background. They are all full body drawings. Sam is a black and white tuxedo cat, Alice is an orange and white cat with a bob tail, Celia is a Cornish Rex with a purple and white mottled "salty licorice" coat. Teddy is a brown British shorthair, Colin is a light brown Lykoi, Gwen is a fluffy diluted calico, and Lena is a shorthaired grey tabby with a bob tail.

The first image shows Sam, Alice, and Celia. Sam is shorter and fat, and he has curly black hair, and he is smiling with his hand held in front of him lightly touching. He is wearing a cream mockneck shirt, dark brown cardigan, and dark red trousers. Alice is tall and lanky, and she has shaggy light brown hair with faded pink tips, two pairs of silver earrings and snakebites, and she is wearing a burgundy bra, a patchwork skirt made of flannels in shades of gray, brown, and pink, a few bracelets, and pink cat-eye glasses and pink painted claws. She is slouching slightly with one arm crossed over the other, smiling and waving. Celia is slightly less tall and slim, and has short black hair, gold industrial piercings, X-shaped earrings and snakebite studs. She is wearing a light green button-down, purple vest with gold buttons, dark green trousers, a black cuff on her wrist, and rectangular glasses. She is standing and facing slightly to the side, with one hand around her back holding her other arm while that hand fidgets.

The second image is of Teddy and Colin. Teddy is fat and has a goatee and mustache, and small gold hoop earrings. He is wearing a gold and brown argyle sweater vest, a pale yellow button-down, a gold tie, and brown belt and trousers. He is smiling and waving with his other hand holding onto the side of his belt. Colin is skinny with pale skin visible through patches of fur, and he has a mustache, large cat whiskers, blue eyes, and small silver earrings. He is wearing a yellow t-shirt under a blue button-down and light brown hoodie, blue jeans with brown knee patches, a couple bracelets, and rectangular glasses with yellow lenses. He is snarling and hunched with his ears back and claws bared, looking furious.

The third image shows Gwen and Lena. Gwen is shorter and mid-sized with long blonde hair in a ponytail, and she is wearing a white button-down, gray sweater, and black pencil skirt. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides and looks annoyed at the viewer. Lena is taller and slim, with light brown hair in a bun, and silver oval glasses on a chain. She is wearing a red button-down, a brown belt, and white trousers. She has a neutral expression and one arm crossed over the other while the free hand lifted and fidgeting with her claws.

The fourth image is a lineup of all of them. In order: Sam, Alice, Celia, Gwen, Colin, Teddy, Lena. end ID]

~~~~

the magnyas protocol. protocat. catocol. catnus protocol. k. kitties <3

[lucyllawless]

[thermodynamic-comedian]

alice can "take care of herself" (cook instant noodles when she's supposed to be sleeping). gwen can "take care of herself" (fight for her fucking life to appear professional). lena can "take care of herself" (literally just hasn't died yet).

[madeline-kahn]

Music in Film: Tron: Legacy (2010) dir. Joseph Kosinski original music by Daft Punk happy birthday @rogerdeakinsdp!

[ekingston]

A chef!AU, maybe? In any case, a story in which Kara and Lena meet through one of them preparing/serving/etc food for the other and build their relationship based on that.

(also on ao3.)

“I’m telling you, Alex. It’s her.”

At three pm on a Tuesday their restaurant is characteristically dead, save for the one lone customer Kara is spying on from behind the kitchen doors. The woman is perched, a little perilously, on a barstool at the counter. It’s the one that’s closest to their register, the one with the wobbly leg that Alex keeps telling Kara to fix. One of her red-soled heels is dangling from an impatiently bouncing left foot.

“This is the fourth time this week she’s come in here,” Kara says. “You don’t think that’s just a little bit suspicious?”

Alex shrugs, fully committed to her task of mincing onions. “Maybe she’s just a big fan of Italian food.”

“No way,” Kara says. “No woman who looks like that would put something in her mouth that wasn’t clearly marked gluten-free and vegan. Give me your phone.”

Alex rolls her eyes dramatically as she elbows it over. “Tell me again how you’re totally over Siobhan.”

“Oral sex isn’t a moral issue!” Kara takes a decisive breath while she unlocks her sister’s phone with practiced ease. “Whatever. Water under the bridge.”

“Uh-huh.”

“A love for pasta also doesn't explain why I heard this woman answer a call yesterday with a different name than the one that’s on her credit card,” Kara points out, before snapping a quick picture through the porthole window.

“Okay, now you’re being creepy,” Alex says.

“Shut up,” Kara tells her. “I’m texting Winn.”

Kara eyes the woman at the counter while she waits for his reply. The subject of her suspicion—Lena, she’d called herself on the phone; Tess Mercer, it had said on her mastercard—twists a soft-looking lock of dark hair around her finger as she studies their menu. The way the sunlight sets it ablaze almost makes Kara take a second picture, purely for its artistic merit.

Alex dabs at her onion-induced tears with the cuff of her sleeve. “Let it go, Kara,” she sighs.

“Let it go? Let it—” Kara whirls back to face her, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Do you want The Tower to end up like Winn and James’ steakhouse? Or are you fine with getting swindled by this—this… villain?”

“Of course not.” Alex looks at her like she’s stupid. “But even if this woman is your so-called ‘food influencer’, what do you suggest we do about it? It’s not as if we can bully her into giving us a fair review.”

Kara squares her jaw and sets her fists firmly on her hips. “No,” she declares, her tone grim. “But we can teach her a little about journalistic integrity.” She blows at a lock of hair that’s fallen in her face. “And also, possibly, credit card fraud.”

Alex narrows her eyes at her. “Kara,” she warns, putting down her knife. Her voice is low and cautious, as if she’s talking to the rowdy raccoon that moved into their dumpster three weeks ago instead of to her baby sister. “Let���s just take a breath and think about this for a m—”

Kara is already gone, the doors to the kitchen swinging closed behind her. Sliding into the cluttered space behind the counter, she crosses her arms and then drops her elbows on the bar, leaning what she belatedly realizes is probably a little too close to her adversary. She’s close enough to make out the individual downy hairs on her chin and the lines in her painted lips, which are still pursed thoughtfully in what Kara is sure would look like an attractive pout to someone who didn’t know any better.

But Kara knows so much better.

“Let me guess,” she remembers to get out, much less biting than originally intended. “Today you’ll be having the fifth entrée down the list.”

As soon as their eyes meet over the miniscule amount of space left between them, Kara knows leaning in was a fatal mistake. Her nemesis blinks up at her with wide, startled eyes that remind Kara of the glass pebbles she finds on the beach on her morning walks, not-quite-blue and not-quite-green, and for a moment Kara’s brain sputters out as if someone abruptly turned off the flames that kept it cooking.

But the woman recovers fast, like the scheming scoundrel that she is. She guiltily shutters her eyes behind thick, charcoal lashes, and Kara’s temper revives at the observation that her enemy isn’t as good of an actress as she thinks she is.

“I’ve actually been thinking of breaking my own rule,” she says, with a smile that lands somewhere between self-deprecating and apologetic. “I may give in and order the same thing you served me yesterday.” Kara goes hot all over with righteous indignation at the rich timbre of the woman’s voice, the almost flirtatious lilt it takes on when she adds, “I haven’t been able to stop dreaming about it.”

Kara pulls back a little in an effort to escape that curious gaze, the enticing scent of the woman’s perfume. It’s sweet enough to drown out even Alex’s mountain of onions. “I know what you’re doing,” she blusters.

The—frankly unfairly beautiful—soulless grifter stares at her, stricken. “I’m—I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” Kara says. “I know who you are.” And then, as if she’s putting down the last card in a game of Uno, “Lena.”

The woman goes very still for a moment, and then the corners of her lips tug down in a bitter semblance of a smile. “I see,” she says. She’s rigid, regal; she’s royalty perched on a wobbly wooden stool. “And am I to assume that’s enough for you to turn down my patronage?”

Kara’s resolve wobbles, too. She hadn’t expected her adversary—Lena, she now knows—to roll over so easily. “Well, yeah, obviously,” she flusters, her energy suddenly too large and lumbering in the face of Lena’s deference. “Winn and James are family.”

“Family.” There’s a flicker of wistfulness in Lena’s voice, before confusion colors her features. “So the cold shoulder,” she says. “It’s personal?”

Kara scoffs. The fraudster doesn’t even remember the names of her latest victims. Typical. “It was their steakhouse that you razed to the ground last month,” Kara reminds her.

Lena blinks at her. “The establishment just up the road?” She raises a critical eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they set themselves up for failure when they decided to name their restaurant Misteak.”

Kara huffs. Her air quotes are appropriately vicious when she says, “They were doing just fine before your slanderous ‘review’ went viral.”

Lena does a remarkably convincing impression of someone who is genuinely flabbergasted. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“Liar.”

Lena’s shocked laughter is bright but brief. It’s the first time Kara has heard her laugh. It’s maddeningly attractive and deeply annoying.

“Okay,” Lena says. She folds her arms in front of her chest and leans back a little in her seat, unaware of its delicate disposition. A smirk tugs at one corner of her mouth. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “Who do you think I am, exactly?”

Kara leans in close again, refusing to allow Lena to get the upper hand. She’d like to wipe that smirk from Lena’s face—manually, if need be—preferably, even, if it means she’d get to smudge that infuriatingly immaculate lipstick with her thumb—

“You,” Kara charges, in an effort to drown out that unhelpful thought, “are a fraud. You call yourself a ‘mystery food critic’ on TikTok, but really you’re blackmailing businesses into buying a favorable review.”

“Hey, um.” Alex has followed her out of the kitchen, holding her phone. “So. Winn texted back, and he says—”

But Lena laughs again, her guarded posture melting down to unmistakable relief. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice a high warble. “That sounds awful. And also extremely illegal. Have you reported this person to the authorities? I can get you in touch with an excellent lawyer, if you’d like.”

Kara doesn’t know if she feels more outraged or confused.

…Or possibly some secret third thing.

“So you’re telling me—” Kara barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re saying you’re not her.”

“This, ehm— Tic Tac person?” When Lena’s dark lashes flutter, something in Kara’s chest flutters too. “No.”

Impossible. “Then why have you been in here every day this week?” Kara interrogates, the full force of evidence she’s collected behind it. “When neither one of us has seen you here even once, since we opened?”

Alex rolls her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t sure whether I’d seen her here before,” she points out. “Also, Winn says—”

“Oh please,” Kara scoffs, her eyes fixed on Lena, who has propped her elbows on the counter again, closer now than she’d been the last time their eyes met. “As if you could forget a woman as beautiful as—” Kara’s gaze drops to Lena’s mouth, unbidden, when Lena parts those rude, ruby lips. “...You.”

Alex stares.

Kara swallows.

Lena blinks; two times fast, and then again, after a beat, slow and sticky, her eyes darkening.

“So you may as well come out with it,” Kara croaks out what little remains of her anger. “There’s something you want more than our fettuccine.”

Lena’s cheeks have turned a treacherously charming shade of pink. “I suppose you’re right about that one, at least,” she admits after a beat.

In Kara’s peripheral vision, Alex frantically slides her hand across her throat. Kara frowns at her, telegraphing a wordless what is your problem but finding no satisfactory answer in the crimson shade her sister’s face has taken on.

“Yeah, well,” she says, almost disappointed, fumbling to fill the space left by Lena’s confession. “I’m telling you right now that it’s never going to happen.”

Alex clears her throat with startling force. “Winn wants to know,” she says, reading from her phone, “Who’s the hot chick?”

When Kara returns her gaze to the woman on the other side of the counter, she gulps. Lena is somehow even closer than she was before. She’s also fully propping herself up now on the laminate surface between them, granting Kara a glimpse of freckled cleavage that in no possible universe could be interpreted as unintentional.

“So,” Lena drawls. “What you’re saying is you’re not going to give me your number?”

Kara’s throat is suddenly very dry.

“Huh?” she manages, but only just barely.

“I was hoping,” Lena says slowly, that maddening smirk once again tugging up the corner of her mouth, “that you’d maybe like to—”

Lena shifts in her seat, crossing her legs in what is bound to become a devastatingly seductive pose, but the barstool decides in exactly that moment that's it’s finally had enough. Lena yelps as it gives out beneath her with a dramatic snap, one of its rickety limps flying across the floor as if celebrating its first taste of freedom, and Kara’s never considered herself to be very quick, but here she is anyway, on the other side of the counter in what feels like less than a second, one hand gripping Lena’s forearm, the other slipping smoothly around her waist.

“—fuck,” Lena gasps up at her. She feels good, in Kara’s hands, slight but pleasantly heavy, like the santoku knife Alex has forbidden Kara from touching ever again. “Well,” Lena says. “That’s. Perhaps not the way I would have phrased it, especially in front of your friend—”

They both glance over at Alex, but she’s disappeared, the swaying of the kitchen doors the only indication she was ever there.

“O-kay,” Kara says.

Lena grins. “Okay?”

Kara mentally rewinds the conversation and feels her ears burn at the realization of what she just agreed to. “I mean,” she amends. “We could, maybe, grab something to eat first?”

Something devious sparks in Lena’s terrifyingly gorgeous face. She glances down at Kara’s arms before blinking back up at her again and smirking. “I thought you already had.”

And, goodness gracious.

Kara is about to be in so much trouble.

[thatonebirdwrites]

Cheating Death

Each breath cost her another second. Each step another half second. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, and her vision narrowed to a point. She gripped the railing and pulled herself up another step, one hand pressed against her side. Blood oozed and soaked her blouse.

Another attempt on her life, but this time she doubted anyone would come to save her. Why would they?

She'd burned those bridges in the flames of fury and pain. Her heart, the betraying organ, still pulsed for one person, the one who had lied to her, betrayed her trust, used her. So she'd used her in turn. Lashed out in fury and pain. Each time her former best friend did something kind to "make up" for her betrayal, she ignored her traitorous heart.

She'd followed through, except now that she had Myriad. She'd screamed and yelled at Kara, unleashing all her pain and grief.

She should have stayed at the well defended bunker, but Eve-Hope hadn't finished boxing up the equipment. So she'd left Myriad in a safe and portaled back to the lab to carry some of the boxes herself. She'd tried to plan the move before she tricked Kara into taking her to the fortress, but Leviathan kept mucking up her plans.

Their attacks had accelerated everything.

But she'd badly miscalculated today. Her mind had been too focused on her fight with Kara. The look of pain and grief on Kara's face when she left haunted her, but she'd set the prison to last only long enough for her escape. Kara would be free now, recovering likely.

She took a shuddering breath. Pain clawed up her side at the muscle use, the wound searing like the sun.

She hadn't expected the attack to happen.

But then she had stole something from Leviathan. The stupid medallion which should have been hers not Andrea's. She laughs, bitterly, and her vision splinters. Darkness mocks her, but through sheer will she forces herself up another step.

Her project, her work to build a future where no one could hurt another like Kara did -- all lost because Eve-Hope had given her life to save Lena Luthor.

"Get down, Miss Luthor!" Eve-Hope had shouted. She pushed Lena against the floor, turned, and sprinted at the assassin. Bullets rained down, and the horrible thuds as they hit Eve's body echoed in Lena's mind. Just like when she'd shot her brother.

Eve-Hope swung her make-shift weapon, a piece of a chair, and clubbed the assassin. Both tumbled into the stairwell. Lena rolled herself to her knees and staggered to the door, her side burning. The assassin grunted and punched Eve-Hope. The other stumbled at the blow, which gave the assassin a clear window to Lena. She took one last shot, but again Eve-Hope stepped in front of the pistol.

She fell then, unable to stay upright, and Lena in a fit of rage slammed her body against the asassin's. They'd hit the wall, both scrambling to grab the pistol that had clattered to the floor a few feet away.

Lena had won. One shot, and her attacker was motionless.

But she'd also lost.

"Miss Luthor," Eve-Hope whispered. "It was an honor."

Lena had wept yet again that day.

No human cared for her. Only an AI who saved her, and now, like a fool, she'd staked everything on Hope's calculations. She'd gotten too cocky and forgot to hook her to the backup this past week.

She watched as her project died in a human body. She closed Eve-Hope's unseeing eyes and hunted for her phone.

The screen had cracked during the fight, and her fingers slicked with blood couldn't unlock. Her own phone was not in her pockets, fallen somewhere in the fight.

Whatever the assassin had done blocked all signals as none of the bars showed in the corner of the malfunctioning screen. She had throw Eve's phone in disgust, the screen cracking further when it hit the wall.

Eve died for Lena, and what had Lena done for her? Forced her AI Hope into Eve as punishment for her betrayal.

Today was her punishment for her hubris. She'd cheated death far too many times, mostly thanks to Supergirl. But she'd burned all bridges with Kara.

No, no one was coming. She had to save herself. So she'd started crawling up the steps, desperate to reach where she kept a spare phone.

Half the blood on Lena's clothes was from Eve, the rest from the bullet deep in her side.

She could press the button on the watch Supergirl gave her. But after what she did? Encasing her in Kryptonite?

She regrets it. Now that death laughs in her face, she regrets her actions. Regrets everything. She'd been so focused on her pain, her anger, that she'd failed to see what lay right in front of her.

She loves Kara. She had always loved Kara. She tried to remind herself of the truth: the one person she loved the most had stabbed her with her lies, and yet her mind teases her with memories of Kara's confession, her tears, and her desperation.

"I was selfish," Kara fiddled with her glasses, her tears streaming down her cheek. "I was so selfish. I'm sorry, Lena."

Tears stung Lena's eyes. She tried to wipe them away, but only succeeded in wiping blood across her cheeks.

"Selfish," she muttered with a sour laugh. She pulled herself up another step and paused at the pain.

Kara Zor El Danvers had kept her in the dark because she was a coward. She was afraid to lose Lena. She wanted to be just Kara with someone. She'd been selfish.

At the time, Lena had put Kara in the same category as her mother and Lex. People who claim to love her but used her when they needed it with no regard for how Lena felt.

But now, as death danced along her spine, she reviewed her time with Kara. All those moments of laughter, of cuddling on her sofa, the movies they watched, the lunches shared. How gently but firmly Kara hugged as if afraid Lena would vanish if she let go.

No, her selfishness differed from Lex, who used Lena like a chess piece. Dangling brotherly love only to snatch it away. Lifting up Lena and her work, only to destroy it. She couldn't escape his legacy, how everyone tied her to him. Even when she fought to repair the damage of his legacy.

Even in death he haunted her. The brother she'd killed for Kara and their friends.

Kara had acted like a jerk sometimes as Supergirl, judgmental and aloof, but she'd always shown up when Lena needed her. Like a fool, she'd done the same unable to stay away. Both of them had given and given. Kara had broken the law for Lena just because she wanted to help Lena feel better. All the times Supergirl saved her, the desperation in her expression before she schooled her features into aloofness -- how Supergirl claimed it was "Kara Danvers believes in you."

No, it had been Kara that whole time. Trying to tell her and yet not tell her.

Here at the end of everything, she finally understood why her brother kept the truth from her. It was yet another chess move. He knew she'd react with anger and pain, where she'd burn her bridges. He wanted her isolated, and even in death, he'd taken from her. Taken the one good thing in her life.

She screamed and pounded her fist against the stairs. She was so close to the lab now.

But the pain wrapped around her chest. Her memories tumbled in her mind as if caught in a spinning vortex.

Over and over Kara's face appeared with increasingly urgency.

Even as she bled to death in a stairwell, her traitorous heart couldn't let Kara go.

With slippery fingers, Lena pried open the watch's face. She had no hope that Kara would come.

No, pressing the button won't bring her relief. She was giving Kara one last chance to say goodbye.

Blood smeared across the watch. On her second try, her fingers finally pressed the button.

She collapsed in exhaustion against the stairs, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the darkness.

/end of part 1

[elisnightmare]

f1 Lena with kin list?

Another Lena!💞

Emotions and palettes are here

ID in alt and under cut

[ID

A colored bust digital doodle of Lena Sabrewing from Ducktales 2017, done in a limited palette of shades of purple and pink.

She is wearing a collared shirt with a dark long-sleeved shirt that has lighter stripe over it.

She is facing the viewer, smiling and looking happy. Both eyes are closed, and there's a three little sparkles around her.

End ID]

[rustingcat]

'A Rich Girl With Issues... Lots of Issues' title animation!

This animation is my tribute for @inkedroplets brilliant fic to celebrate its completion!

If you haven't already, please do yourself a favour and go read this amazing fic!

You can click here to start it

This fic has such a special place in my heart, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.❤️

[obliviouskara]

”You luthors are all the same!”

lena: I take offence at that. I still have all my hair.

hdkskdjd i love this fic and i love how lena’s portrayed in this fic

[ynverse]

😚😚😚

i have to warn you… i ramble sometimes 🤭😚

[cloverconsolass]

hi!! Love your ducktales art! Question: do you ship weblena?

Hmmm………maybe 🤗

[thermodynamic-comedian]

oh also idk if this is anything but there's been a lot of "no one will believe you" type of horror going on in tmagp lately.

nobody believed madame e. about ink5oul because they're famous.

gwen didn't believe lena about lady mowbray because she's rich.

sam didn't believe gwen about mr. bonzo because it sounds too ridiculous.

three pretty common reasons for victims to be ignored, i reckon.

[zivazivc]

I was just watching World Tour again. 😏 And was thinking about how the Funk Trolls switch between walking on two legs and four legs. Do you think baby Les ever tried to walk with four legs? Maybe Hed's dad discouraged it or something.

Love all your art and characters. 💕

Do they switch? I don't actually remember that. I kinda thought that half of them walk on two and half of them walk on all fours. But maybe there's a percentage that can do both, kind of like how some people can use both their left and rights hands to write.

But even so, Les isn't shaped enough like a funk troll for walking on fours to be natural for him, and his dad is two-legged too. (Maybe Flea can do it, I never drew his parents but I imagine his funk mom walking on fours.) ...But from how horrible Hed's dad was to him, yeah, I can totally imagine him discouraging something like that. Guy is a rancid piece of shit and he put that kid through so much... :((

[ekingston]

What do you think would be lena's courage gaunlet test

therapy

[thatonebirdwrites]

Courage

The moment the elevator doors shut, panic lances through her muscles, arcs across her brain, and stifles her breathing. Kara slumps against the wall as the sensation of spinning turns her stomach to goo.

She needs to get out. Escape, but her limbs won't move. She's rooted to the floor and wall, her body a trembling branch in a nonexistent wind.

A ding rings out and the doors open. Kara pushes off the wall and leaps forward, blindly. She collides with a soft body, who breathes out a soft 'oof' before wrapping arms around Kara. They tumble in a heap to the floor.

"Kara?" Lena lays under her.

Kara scrambles off her. "S-sorry," she stammers. Her head spins from the vertigo, and that urge to upend her lunch clenches her stomach.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Lena sits up and gently touches Kara's shoulder. Her thumb rubs back and forth, and the soothing touch ripples through the panic-clenched muscles. Slowly, she relaxes under Lena's ministrations. "How about we go to my office and chat?"

It's an out, a way to escape the suffocating embarrassment of having knocked over the new boss of CatCo. Kara doesn't want Lena to see her like this, but as they sit on the floor, she can't think of an excuse for her mad dash. Or her trembling hands, or the sheen of sweat along her hair's roots.

She's exhausted, scared, and dreading the Supergirl calls. Psi is still out there, and the horror of each encounter brings up another trauma. Layers and layers like a badly baked cake.

Running will only make Lena and their coworkers more suspicious, so she nods. People keep glancing their way, but no one says a word as Kara follows Lena into the CEO office.

Once Kara's settled on the sofa, Lena sits next to her and takes one of her hands. Her thumb strokes back and forth, and the terror that'd gripped Kara eases further.

"What's wrong?" Lena's words are soft, her expression so earnest, that Kara almost bursts into tears.

Instead, she sniffles and tips her head back against the sofa. "Panic," she mumbles.

"I figured as much. What caused it? If you feel comfortable sharing."

"Elevator." The dread of the elevator had latched onto her soul, an emotional flashback to being trapped in her pod in the Phantom Zone for years.

"Ah, small enclosed space." Lena continues to massage Kara's hands. "If it helps, I'll ride in it with you. Even if I have to ride back up to the office after."

Kara frowns. "Why? That seems silly." That last vestiges of the panic has faded into an ache in her chest. Lena's touch always does that to her, a relief that soothes the ending grief that haunts her steps.

"Helping you is never silly." Lena states it as if it's a fact of nature. "And it's no trouble. Truly."

Kara meets Lena's gave and blinks back tears. Such a small offer shouldn't affect her so, and yet, here she is on the verge of weeping. She wants to tell Lena everything. To finally let go of the secret that mars the relationship between them.

Before she realizes it, she finds herself crying, her face pressed against Lena's shoulder, and Lena's arms tight around her. She rocks her gently, rubbing her back, and whispering kind platitudes in Kara's ears, and that only breaks her further.

"I need help," she whispers, finally. "But I'm scared to ask. That once you know this truth about me, you'll be furious. That you'll hate me for it."

"Darling," Lena says, gently, "That sounds like what my therapist calls catastrophizing. Building up worst case scenarios without evidence."

The term surprises her. Kara's never really thought about it quite like that, but what is her evidence that Lena will be angry? She thinks of how Lena prefers transparency, hates lies, and how prone to anger she can be in those situations.

And yet, she's never shown anger with Kara, even when she has to leave their hangout early due to Supergirl stuff.

"This is a pretty big thing though," Kara says, quietly. She rubs away her tears an sighs. "I don't want to lose you, Lena."

"Whatever you have to tell me," Lena continues, "it won't hurt what we're building, okay?"

Kara tugs at the cuffs of her button-down shirt. "It might."

Lena tilts her head and studies Kara for a long moment. "How about I be the judge of that?" she says finally.

Kara winces. Valid point. "Okay. I -- I'm dealing with a metahuman who -- who somehow induces flashbacks of the most horrifying parts of my life. She's been breaking into banks with this ability, and I can't fight her. No matter how hard I try. The panic hits, I'm back in that -- that horrible memory, and it lingers for the rest of the day. Like the elevator. It -- it felt like I was trapped in my pod again, watching my planet die again and again." She breathes in sharply and blinks back tears. Lena's hands grip hers tighter. "Normally, I can usually handle it."

"But not today." Lena looks thoughtful, but she doesn't seem angry or upset. "I'm so sorry about what happened to you. I can't even imagine that." Her eyes dart to the row of televisions behind the desk, where a few play a segment about the bank heists and Supergirl. "But perhaps I can help?"

Kara shakes her head. "I don't want her to hurt you, Lena! I can't lose you-"

"Kara, darling," Lena ducks her head to meet Kara's distraught gaze. She squeezes Kara's hand. "You're talking to an engineer and biophysics researcher. All powers, even yours -" when she says that word, a slight smile forms on her lips, and Kara knows then that Lena isn't angry about her reveal "- have a signature. If this thief is using a power to induce panic and trauma into another, that means a signal must emit from the thief. I could try crafting a few devices to nullify it, creating a field to protect you."

Kara blinks, startled. "Huh. You know, that -- that could work." It'd be better than her reliving all her traumas at once. No matter how hard she pushes herself through it, it slows her down far too much. Psi gets away every time.

"Then how about this. I'll need to do a scan of the area of her most recent heist. Preferably directly after. Then give me a day to craft you something." Lena's firm, problem-solving voice invokes a sense of warmth that washes through Kara from head to toe.

"She might still be nearby if it's directly after."

"Then let's be quick, and you can fly me out of there after." The way Lena so casually suggests flying has Kara breathless, but not due to panic, more of a relief and sense of wonder. Maybe Lena already knew her secret this whole time and had simply been waiting for Kara to tell her?

"Okay." Kara smiles for the first time that day.

***

The next heist is that evening. Supergirl shows up, the fight goes awry, Psi gets away, but this time Lena Luthor surveys the site with a handheld scanner. Her disguise is a simple black outfit, similar to Alex's agents, but without any markings.

"Kara, what the hell is Lena doing here?" Alex whispers as she hands Kara a water bottle.

Kara, still shivering from the Psi-induced panic attack, chugs the water. It's cool taste soothes her from the inside out. "She had an idea on how to help. But she needed a scan of Psi's signature."

Alex's eyebrows raise almost to her hairline. "You told her?"

Kara shrugs and crumples the water bottle flat in her hands. When Lena finishes her scan, she walks over, her smile a little forced, and a look of unease in her eyes. The residue of Psi's power still lingers.

Kara does as promised -- flies her to her lab at L-Corp.

***

The second heist after that, Kara comes prepared with Lena's new device latched to her belt. This time when Psi smiles and attempts her mental attack, Kara feels only a soft buzzing at the edge of her awareness.

"Nice try." She superspeeds forward and slams Psi into a wall. "Your reign of terror ends today."

"Oh? No longer eager to play?" Psi teases, her voice like honey, cloying and sweet. "And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"As if." Kara slaps on the power-dampening cuffs and leads Psi out of the bank. Alex waits with her team just outside. Pushing Psi into the back of that van gives Kara a sense of satisfaction.

"A bit kinky, isn't this?" Psi says with a grin. She nods her head at the black interior and holds up the cuffs. "Makes me think you're wanting some of this."

"I can guarantee you I don't, but I'm sure you'll love your new accommodations," Kara says with a smirk before she shuts the doors. The entire vehicle is built to hold in most powers, but Supergirl flies above the van just in case. At least until Psi is safely transported.

Alex catches her just after Psi is locked in a holding cell, where she'll stay until her trial. "Hey, Kara, so that device?" She gestures to Kara's belt. "Lena made that?"

"Yup." Kara taps it with a smile. "Worked like a charm."

"Huh." Alex taps her chin, thoughtfully. "Think she'd be interested in looking over some of our tech? We could use an upgrade."

"Can't hurt to ask." Kara loves the idea of Lena helping with other Supergirl related things.

***

Kara settles onto the sofa next to Lena. She has a bowl of popcorn in her lap, and various sodas and wine cups sit on the table. The movie is cued up and ready to go, but Lena plucks the remote from Kara's hand.

"Can we talk a moment?"

Kara freezes and dread curdles in her stomach. Is this the moment her world crashes down at her? Is Lena going to reveal how angry she is that Kara kept her Supergirl identify from her now that Kara's out of harms way? "Uh sure."

Lena places the popcorn and remote on the table and faces Kara. "I want you to know that I'll keep your secret, Kara." The words eases the tension in Kara's muscles and she sags against the sofa in relief. "And I'm open to assisting further if the need arises, but I want to establish a boundary first."

"Oh -- oh okay."

"When you're in the suit, I'd like for us to maintain a strictly professional relationship. Consider it a job. Outside the suit, I'd like us to be ..." Lena hesitates and wrings her hands, nervously. "I'd like us to be us. Not me the CEO and you a superpowered alien, just us as Kara and Lena. Enjoying our time together like before."

Kara breathes out in relief. "Yeah. Yeah, I like that boundary." It makes sense to since it'd give them some protection from the gossiping rags. Plus it eases a fear Kara hadn't realized plagued her -- that maybe Lena no longer saw her as just Kara.

"Great." Lena grins and leans into Kara's side in relief. "Okay, now we can watch the movie." She picks up the remote and dangles it from her fingers. When Kara reaches for it, Lena jerks it out of her range. "And on second thought, I have one more condition."

Kara freezes mid-grab.

Lena smirks and spins the remote in her hand. "Every other movie I pick it and we'll watch with no complaints from you."

Kara lets out a laugh. Lately, she's been picking absolutely terrible science fiction movies, mostly for the laughs. Of course Lena would have a limit to how many she could handle watching.

"Deal." Kara nabs the remote and hits play.