#soft fall vibes

[marography]

"Gentle autumn moments..."

[lovesdaya]

@lovesdaya

[foreverrryourssss]

Aries in fall 🍁

[abandonedmannequinfactory]

life is starting to feel like this again 🍂🗝️

[lemon-illustrations]

Sprout and Beanie is ready for halloween 🎃

[saydesole]

Just patiently waiting 🍁🍂

[fairytaleprincessart]

[the-sp0tless-mind]

[edianilki]

[444prilsbae]

hoa hoa hoa season 🦇

[noradaydreams]

₊☾⋆｡⊹. 𝑖'𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑦, 𝑡𝑟𝑦, 𝑡𝑟𝑦.

[marography]

"This autumn will be yours. I believe in you, you got this."

[peacefulandcozy]

Instagram credit: literary_nerd

[academic-vampire]

𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔱’𝔰 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔶 𝔢𝔵𝔦𝔰𝔱.

[natalievoncatte]

1. Leaves

Lena was, in all honesty, having the time of her life. Since they’d arrived here, she had finally relaxed. Really relaxed. Lex was gone. Capital-G Gone. The last of Cadmus had been mopped up. The Conpany was no longer a problem- L-Corp was being sold off, from entire divisions down to sales of old office chairs. The Estate and nine-tenths of the family holdings were all being sold off, and the money quietly funneled into a holding company. Sam Arias would manage Lena’s wealth.

Lena had nothing to do anymore, and it was glorious. She’d done what she’d never done in her entire life: rest. She ate when was hungry, slept when she was tired. She stayed up late finishing a thriller novel she’d grabbed off one of Kara’s tables and slept it off the following day. She could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, so one day she said, “Let’s go watch the leaves change.”

“Not much of that in National City,” Kara had said, not looking up from her laptop.

Lena was flipping channels when she made the suggestion, another pedestrian activity that had been too far beneath her to ever indulge during her CEO days.

“I’m serious,” said Lena. “I’ll rent us a cabin, book a flight, and we’ll be there by tomorrow morning. Vermont, or maybe New Hampshire.”

Kara looked up. “I could just fly us.”

“Short distances only,” said Lena.

Kara weighed it for a moment. She looked at Lena for a drawn out instant, eyes darting this way and that. Lena knew she had a deadline; she had become privy to the details of Kara’s life ever since she started couch surfing at Kara’s place after dumping her chic penthouse on some petroleum heir from the Emirates.

She had been “crashing” at Kara’s place for three months and had her own key, but they weren’t talking about it. Lena had remained on the couch, falling asleep to YouTube videos of molten lava and cat purring sounds, while Kara puttered around the house.

There were moments of tension. Pauses during shared meals. Moments when they pressed closed on sofa, times when Kara got up to go to bed and Lena felt this yearning to follow that she never quite obeyed.

Kara was thinking. Hard.

“Rent a cabin?”

“Yeah, someplace remote. So you can take a break. You’ve been working harder than ever, Darling. It almost feels like you’re avoiding me.”

Kara swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll fly. The regular way.”

They did, arriving in Maine less than a day later. Lena rented a Land Rover (because they were on an Adventure) and did all the driving, three hours from the airport to the cabin.

Kara rode in silence, though Lena heard her gasp.

The trees were beautiful. They were alive with color, as if an impressionist master had made the world a canvas and run riot. It was more than a mass of reds and yellows and oranges. It was astonishing.

It was dark when they arrived at the cabin. Lena had chosen one with two bedrooms, though she hesitated when she did. It had a full kitchen with a gas stove and all the amenities but also a fire pit and picnic table and gazebo, and overlooked a private swath of a small lake. It was like something out of a Bob Ross painting.

They were both tired from the flight, or at least Lena was, and turned in right away. When she rose the next day, she cheerily told her cabin-mate she was headed into town to get some supplies.

Kara went out to chop wood. Lena, of course, watched a few swings before leaving. Kara didn’t really need an axe but Lena didn’t care; she was preoccupied watching the muscles of Kara’s shoulders and back as she swung the splitting maul.

Lena got back before noon and carried the groceries inside, enough for her to use the fancy kitchen to prepare a mighty feast for her companion.

She didn’t hear the sobs until she had most of it put away. Lena bolted to the back door and stopped.

Kara was sitting on the picnic table, feet resting on the long board that acted as a seat. She was holding a single golden leaf on her hand, studying it and sobbing softly to herself.

“Kara?”

She looked up, soft blue eyes wet with tears. Lena felt a wave of grief but also panic, rushing to the table.

“Kara, what’s wrong?”

“I,” Kara started. “Lena, I’m scared.”

Lena swallowed hard. “Why?”

Kara looked at the leaf. “Another year past. The leaves turn colors and fall, school starts, things change.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Alex is married now. They’ve got a kid to raise. Nia and Brainy will probably get married soon. We hadn’t had a game night in two months.”

Lena swallowed. Kara was right. When Lena had first joined, then rejoined, this wonderful found family had been aggressively social, and now they forgot to text as often as not. They all spent more time at home or at their real jobs than at the Tower. The world had just started moving on. Kara didn’t even wear the cape every day anymore.

“I know,” said Lena, her voice thick. “But you’ve got me.”

Lena felt her pulse start to race. Kara had been so distant, she couldn’t help wonder if she was enough. If boring, retired Lena wasn’t enough. Oh God, what if Kara was thinking about going to Argo? Or the future?

“Not forever,” said Kara, her voice cracking like glass. She let the leaf drop from her fingers. “Eventually you’ll go. All of you. Brainy, Nia, Alex, Clark if he doesn’t come back from Argo. You.”

“Oh,” Lena said, softly. “Oh, Kara.”

“I think I might be immortal,” Kara whispered. “I don’t feel any aches or pains. Nothing about me changes. I don’t forget things like people do. My body just keeps repairing itself and it never makes any mistakes. What if I’m just like this forever? Or even a thousand years? What if everyone is gone and their kids are gone and no one knows who I am anymore?!” she was frantic now, the words coming too fast.

Lena reached out, tentatively. She put her hands on Kara’s shoulders and pulled herself in, wrapping her best friend in a hug.

Birds chirped, the waters of the lake made soft glug-glugs, and all around them was the soft tapping sound of the leaves, already letting go.

“I won’t leave you,” Lena whispered. “Kara, I won’t. If I have to live forever I will. I’ll find a way. Tech, magic, fifth dimensional imps. I’ll find a way.”

Kara sighed, arms firmly around her.

“Do you need space?” Lena asked. “I could leave you alone for a bit. Look for a place when we get back, so I’m not on the couch all the time.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kara blurted, almost cutting her off. “I know I’ve been distant, it’s just… I keep looking at you and thinking about all the time I’ve lost and all the mistakes I’ve made and how I’ll regret it forever. We have so little time and I’m so scared I’ll lose you.”

Lena pulled back to look at her. “We have a long time to make more memories. As many as we can.”

“I’ll lose you too,” said Kara. “I know you want more. A family, a partner. You’ll start to have less time for me. You’ll all just fall away and I’ll be stuck here alone.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“How can you say that?”

Kara started to pull away. Lena stopped her with a tug on her arms. It stunned her, sometimes, how she could overpower a god with her tiny human hands. How she could stun the other whirlwind or a touch.

“Kara,” said Lena. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”

“Me?” Kara squeaked.

Lena cleared her throat. “I wanted to tell you at the wedding. I mean, I didn’t dress like that and go stag for the hell of it. I just lost my nerve and you seemed so overwhelmed.”

Kara blinked a few times.

“You want me?” said Kara.

Lena felt a cold rush of terror. She’d just blurted it out, artlessly, unplanned.

“Like want me want me? Like kissing want me?”

Lena licked her lips. “Yes. I’d like to kiss you right now, if you let me.”

Kara settled back into the table, leaning forward. Lena leaned in, pushing her back slightly, moving her hands from shoulders to hips, scoring the way Kara tensed and trembled. She was hardly inexperienced, Lena knew, but something about this felt like a first kiss, even for her. It tasted like one, too, down to the quivery way their lips met.

Kissing quickly became something more. Lena didn’t know if she was pulling or Kara pushing. It didn’t much matter; the path led to the bed in Kara’s room, marked by a trail of shed clothing.

Years of anticipation overwhelmed them both; dinner was forgotten, and they didn’t even emerge until the next day.

It was in the morning sun, the light turning Kara’s skin gold, that Lena saw it. Twisted within one of the curling locks of hair, splayed around Kara’s head on the pillow, was a faintly visible thread of purest silver, chased through the gold like an engraver’s masterpiece. Lena couldn’t help but twirl the errant strands around her finger.

As Kara slept, she looked up through the window and watched the wind as it caressed the leaves.

[lemon-illustrations]

fall stamps 🍂