#my head hurt but the ramble itself was quite exhilarating

[kafkaoftherubble]

再谈JJK 236五条悟的心理刻画// I want to talk about Gojo's psychology in chapter 236 again 

I'm quite happy to say that my thoughts on CH236 have evolved—even if I still greatly dislike many of its executions, pacing, logic, and other storytelling issues. Previously, one of the things that really pissed me off is the character derailment Gojo Satoru suffered in CH236.

I'd mentioned before that the idea of the afterlife dream sequence is massively appealing to me. It's just that there are so many little things in it that sounded wrong enough that in the end, I wondered if I was looking at Mahito's Idle Transfiguration at work. As one person familiar with the JP side of Twitter reportedly saw (take it with a reasonable grain of salt for there is no link to the tweet, but no big deal):  "Gojo sensei didn't just die, it feels like his soul was killed as well."

However, unlike many detractors, my gripes were not centered on "Gojo dickriding Sukuna jobber mindset." I actually think the self-deprecation was perfectly valid for the human Satoru (my previous rant had more details on this). I thought it was humanizing to see him freely admitting his vulnerabilities. 

I was more offended at his downplaying his achievements as though he never had a chance. I thought someone who was as enlightened as he is in judging a person's strengths and weaknesses should be better at assessing his own feats instead of sounding like my pathetic ass whenever I talk about myself. I know I have a rather abysmal self-esteem issue, but nothing in the story indicated Satoru as possessing that trait. That loss of measured self-assessment was one of the things that made me reel. But after reading some comments on this Reddit post, I've come to realize I forgot a very important piece of context:

This is Satoru after he lost.  

Being the strongest was, by all the web of causes around him (his birth, the way people regard him, the things people keep pointing out about him, the system's assessment of him, etc.), a huge part of Satoru's sense of self. It did not necessarily matter if he himself truly believed "being the strongest" was all there was to him. See, even in the real world, there is no "true self" (yes, "there is no self" is one of my most steadfast scientific +/philosophical stances). There is, however, a social self; a person's sense of self is porous and dependent on the environment and society (which can break up into communities) they exist in, and it reflects back to the person who comes to accept it as their own personal narrative. Being the strongest was part of Satoru's fable; the world around him even decided that it was his raison d'être.  

So when he lost, it dealt a really hard blow to his understanding of who he believed he was. It didn't matter if he was enlightened in his judgment of people. One of the statements everyone, including himself, had taken as a fact had just been completely disproven. Why wouldn't he then express doubt on the rest of the "I am the strongest" narrative? Why wouldn't he start to become skeptical of his strengths and feats, to the point of seeing the opponent who bested him as more powerful than Sukuna really was?  

It's just another glimpse into his humanity. Who among us feels not a shred of self-doubt when we fail at what we believed we were good at?  

In this light, it became easier for me to reappraise his expression of doubt.

--------

There was a part when he made it sound as though he was trying to reach out to Sukuna and shit "all along", seemingly at the expense of his students, colleagues and adopted son. Make no mistake, the omission of his students and the goals Satoru made as himself (instead of as "the strongest") in this afterlife dream thingy is still bad.

Reaching out to Sukuna, though? I don't think it's necessarily OOC.  

See, Satoru shared many traits and inspirations from Shakyamuni, the historical Buddha. In line with those references, it's my interpretation that Satoru does not actually exhibit egoism—I know, it runs counter to the dominant understanding of Gojo's psychology in the JJK community—but self-less-ness. 

Not selflessness as in "altruism", but anattā--one of the Buddha's realizations upon his awakening (and again, a concept I strongly support. My best friend can tell you how much I talk about this. Hell, my blog description says as much). The way I see it, Satoru's confidence in himself is no different from his confidence in other people—it's all rooted in what he perceives this given "person" is capable of. To him, "Satoru" is simply another person who happens to be really good at a lot of things and so deserves to be praised and uplifted as anyone else who's good at what they do; the fact that this person happens to be himself is irrelevant*.  

*Note: I once had a YouTube comment discussion with someone, who was surprisingly knowledgeable on Buddhist philosophy, regarding the blurry line between selfishness and selflessness in Gojo. It was great; we discussed anattā and śūnyatā and ended at the Mādhyamaka (Mahayana) school. There, I expounded on why I interpret Satoru as "self-less" instead of "enlightened selfishness" in greater detail. I intend to transcribe it and preserve it here someday. Not now, though!  

When I put that understanding into CH236's context, it no longer shocks me to see Gojo wanting to reach out to Sukuna. For a self-less being, there are no distinctions between them ("them-self") and other beings ("other selves"). They are all psychocausal processes in the form of persons. Sukuna is, therefore, "another person" in Satoru's eyes.

Sukuna is a person who's the strongest in his time and was worshipped and feared—not seen as human but as a calamity embodied in a living creature. Note that Satoru's empathy for Sukuna didn't make him condone Sukuna's way of living as "the strongest" (i.e. hedonistic egoist) even in his bare-my-soul afterlife sequence; he merely expressed an understanding of Sukuna's psychology. That understanding led to Satoru expressing compassion to a person who was burdened by being too strong at the top—it was even doubly easy for him to empathize because of Satoru's own lived experience. You can see why Satoru then tried to alleviate Sukuna's suffering in a way he believed could work: giving his all, through humor, etc. These are likely what Satoru wanted someone else to do for him.  

You can trace this same attitude in the way he mentored his students. He didn't hold back much (ask Yuta and Hakari again how it feels to be punched by their sensei). He regaled his students (and sometimes colleagues) with excessive humor. He was unabashedly "giving his all"—his childishness and "annoying narcissistic ass" and insanity—to those he especially believed to be liable for being lonely, whether it's because of strength or perceived danger (Yuta, Yuji), circumstances (Yuji, Megumi), life experience (Maki, Nobara), mindset (Nanami, Hakari), etc. It could be gleaned even as far back as his interaction with Riko Amanai when he started to see her less as a job and more as "a person", and so recognized the sort of isolation and alienation Riko was starting to feel as a Star Plasma Vessel. He did the same thing with her—trying to alleviate her suffering through what he believed was best. And yes, he gave his all even back then (no sleep for 3 days, guys.)

---------

Gah the translator for this chapter is fucking amazing! I'm jealous! Also, "I love everyone" is poignant, I think, as it paralleled what was in his head during his awakening ("I don't hate anyone.") 

The choice Gege made in depicting the "flower" as lotuses has become subject to various theories. After all, it symbolizes rebirth in some cultures and interpretations. I think it's a valid point for his comeback theories (though I dare not allow myself to hope), but those aside, I actually simply thought of it as yet another allusion to Satoru's connection to Sakyamuni.

Pink lotuses symbolize Buddhahood—a bloomed one is a Buddha; a bud is a Buddha in the making. In Mahayana Buddhism, everyone supposedly has a Buddha nature and is therefore capable of liberation the way Sakyamuni did. They simply need the knowledge (dhamma)... and The Noble's Eightfold Paths/The Noble Eightfold Path taught by a teacher, of course. Gotta subscribe to the course, aye? 

This translation actually made me realize that yes, Satoru did mention his students... in a very annoyingly subtle way. 

I don't think these lotuses refer to himself. I think they refer to his students. 

Hear me out. His goal has always been to raise a generation that could all be strong, so that no one has to be lonely again... including Gojo Satoru (a.k.a. himself), because this would be a world that no longer needs him. To match it with the Buddhist allegory: Satoru, "the Buddha", is trying to raise all of these lotus flowers ("buddhas-in-making") to bloom.  

He can make his students bloom (his goal of raising them). He can admire his students (he's proud of them). But he cannot tell his students to "understand him."

Ultimately, he seems to think his students—or anyone, really—don't actually understand how lonely it is to be up here. He doesn't resent it ("I don't feel lonely now"), but it's still an experience that predisposed him to find some resonance in Sukuna. I find it plausible that perhaps, in Satoru's mind, Sukuna is no different from his students in some regards. It certainly fits the trait of a Buddha/Boddhisattva—to be capable of compassion even to creatures and beings most of us wouldn't be.  

(Or maybe this feeling comes even more easily considering the fact that Sukuna is wearing Megumi's face.) 

---------------------------

Now, I know this is already a long read, but my evolved thoughts are not done yet! This is concerning what I previously saw as the biggest character assassination: Nanami and Haibara's comment on Satoru's character. They basically painted him as a dude who really just did it for his pleasure and no loftier goals. The fact that Satoru didn't even deny it was just crap.

But someone pointed out that the face he made was a frown—Satoru was actually upset that this was what Nanami believed.

Now, I've always been crap at discerning emotions, which extend to expressions. I've interpreted his expression as Satoru feeling embarrassed for being called out or accused. But honestly, it also makes sense to think that this is Satoru frowning at the fact that he's still being misunderstood even after death. He likely didn't bother to correct Nanami because he rather asked Nanami how he felt when he died.  

And that, I think, actually dives into heavy meta.  

A sizeable number of those who decry Satoru as OOC in his death were upset that the man didn't show his signature self-assuredness, arrogance, and "winner mindset" (this is the gripe I personally disliked the most because it's close to turning Satoru into this Alpha Male egoist role model), and is all-around "acting like a jobber." It's as if they like Satoru because he's the strongest—not because he's Gojo Satoru.  

Some, meanwhile, were seething to see him praising Sukuna and trying to reach out to him, calling it OOC glazing, meatriding, etc.  

Even those who like him for his character and traits, such as myself, ended up upset at what we believed Satoru was not showing.  

Satoru is showing a side of his humanity and it was confusing to a lot of us in big and small ways, for different reasons. A good chunk of it is still, I maintain, the problem with Gege's execution. 

But in a meta-sense... 

It kinda shows that we don't understand him completely either.  

We're kinda being Nanami here. We think we get Gojo Satoru, but then sometimes, we don't... at least not until we try to understand him on his own terms. 

What's Gojo famous for?

For being the strongest, most handsome motherfucker who's cool and cocky as fuck with cool-ass OP powers and all that meme-worthy stuff.

He's famous for being Gege's "most hated character," for the jokes about him having zero personality, etc.

Famous for being MAPPA's golden child with glossy ass lips and eyes that burden their animating budget.

He's sexy and hot; fuck did you see what he did to Jogo in Shibuya? He's feral and insane; fuck did you see what he did to Hanami? Or that time he turned Toji into a donut? He's bombastic and larger than life.

He sometimes feels unreal, like an alien. Some people hate him, and some people adore him to bits.  

But it takes some digging and analysis for us to realize that Gege lied about him having no personality. Because Satoru is one of the most fleshed-out characters he's ever created. He had more human sides to him that surprised even us—we didn't know he was capable of self-deprecation. We didn't know he was so compassionate he tried to reach out to the villain as if he was Naruto fucking Uzumaki. We suspected other things, like his loneliness at the top, but most of us believed Satoru was more gleeful and smug about being at the top than being angsty about it.  

Maybe this was what Gege was trying to do. Or...maybe he didn't intentionally try to do this, and simply fumbled and messed up his way to genius meta-hood (honestly who knows by this point).

Either way, CH236 could be read as an experiment on how right Satoru was about him never being understood. There are just that many larger-than-life projections/assumptions imposed on him—with "he's the strongest" as the most dominant narrative. He was a "living creature" experiencing alienation and dehumanization, even when surrounded and loved by his admirers and supporters, despite sharing everyone's common thread of the human condition.

All he could do when we argued about how weird he was because he didn't fit what we believed... was to frown and move on.

---------

Extra thought:

I know it's a conspiracy theory by this point that Gege did Satoru dirty because Gojo is his least favorite character, but I really think Gege is joking. If CH236 sucks in its execution of Gojo's afterlife sequence, it's because Gege hasn't been doing emotional beats and characterization well for a long time by now. Not because he hates Gojo.

Think about it—Gege hasn't cared to pause the battle for some deep-cut emotional shit since the Culling Game arc, and yet CH236 is where the battle takes the backstage (so backstage it's a fucking OFFSCREEN DEATH. COME ON, GREG!). Every panel in that chapter was drawn with details and care, and he took a step back from the fighting just to give Gojo even more characterization and flesh.  

Guys, I really think Gege loves Gojo.

Him bashing Gojo is him teasing Gojo the way Gojo teases other people like Utahime and Nanami and Megumi. He doesn't really know how to show his love for Gojo in the manga because his executions do miss, but I think he crafted Gojo lovingly. He fucking loves him. I think I'm actually willing to bet on this.

----

The evolution of my CH236-centric ramble goes from here, to here, to this. I also wanna shout out to the answer in that Reddit post that helped me understand the emotional beat of CH236 better (which allowed me to realize something else). I don't have a Reddit account though. I ghost-read!

Thank you for reading my ramble.

#writing this gave me a migraine; good thing I'm going to sleep after this #once again I have no originality and am only capable of mixing and matching ideas from other people #but as a friend on Tumblr once said: everyone does that more or less. I can only hope I'm competent this time too #my head hurt but the ramble itself was quite exhilarating #I hope the length is not a deterrent #man what happened to me being a To Your Eternity essayist #jjk 236 #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk meta

[drethanramslay]

Gone with the wind

Pairing: Rafael x MC( Addison Jones)

Word count: 1.5 K words (this is a short one, I'm sorry)

masterlist 

Taglist: @miyakokurono​ @trappedinfandoms​ @openheart12​ @sekizincimektup​ @x-kyne-x​ @paulfwesley​ @zeniamiii​ @an-urban-witch-ig​ @ramseyegerton​ @noboundariesplease​ @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey​ @newcolonies​ @theodorepjames4​ @unluckygs​ @choices-love-affair​ @kaavyaethanramsey​  @caseyvalentineramsey​ @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq​  @junehiratas​ @lilyvalentine​ @nooruleman​  @agent-breakdance​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @choicesfanaf​ @temptress-of-death-and-desire @ac27dj @oofchoices @mrsdrakewalkerblog @livingpurpose @humanpokemon @chaotic-ramsay-queen​ @oofchoices​ @ohramsey​(let me know if you want to added or removed froth tag list)

Warning: angst and swearing and im apologising before hand if there are any mistakes. its 2 am in the night so :P

Songs: Don't leave by MØ and Before you go by Lewis Capaldi

It had been an eventful day.

From seeing Kyra collapse in her pool of blood, to spoon-feeding Elijah's intern, to having a wild cat and mouse chase in Mass Kenmore it was crazy indeed. Addison has had five heart attacks and six meltdowns in just a span of 12 hours which left her tired physically and mentally.

But you got to see Rafael for like five minutes, so that's a good thing right? he inner ever-optimistic conscience pointed out which made her smile.

Even though they chose to remain friends, anybody within a five mile radius could sense the palpable tension between the two. The lingering gazes, the long hugs and the occasional kisses on the forehead spoke volumes.

Addison fucking knew that he wasn't happy with Sora.

Hell since the time she knew that Addison was his ex, the fights have started increasing in frequency. Initially, Sora would hang out with the group and during those times, when Raf wasn't looking her way, the death glares that were sent her way, left Addy feeling uneasy.

And that was just the beginning.

There were times when she would shout at Rafael incoherently and the sweetheart that Raf is, would listen to her 'concerns' and try different ways to make her happy. Be it by taking her out on cute dates or by showering her with cute presents or swooning surprises. Addy wasn't even aware about this entire fiasco because they pretended to be couple goals. She only got to know when they had gone out fo beers on the nights of the softball game.

He is such a good actor... Addy thought to herself as she entered the lift and pressed the fifth floor, comfortable in the blue scrubs.

The patient poaching was a wild ride in Mass Kenmore and it was overwhelming. Addy had still not come down from her high, the lingering effects of adrenaline making her restless. Ethan tricking Tobias, Baz imitating Zaid and the run in with Aurora was too much.

I swear I need to have one bottle of wine asap. Addy thought has her shoulders ached, a knot forming due to the excessive stress.

She entered room 532 to see Bryce sitting by Kyra, holding her hand and giving her a reassuring smile.

"Hey there K-bear. Gave me quite a scare this morning, huh?" Addy sat by her side and pulled her frail body into a long bear hug.

"Hey Big A. I heard the you had quite the Fast and Furious chase scene today, huh?" Kyra said with a weak smile.

"You wouldn't even believe it Kyra! It was so exhilarating and equal parts terrifying."

"Give me all the deets but before that.." Kyra glanced at Bryce and he gave another encouraging nod. "I'm sorry for being a her to you Addy."

Addison stopped her before she got sucked into the whirlpool of guilt. "No, don't be. I rather you vent all your anger out on me if, its giving you the courage to keep fighting." Kyra gave a huge smile and hugged Addy again. Addy's eyes fell on Bryce. "So Bryce, have you thought of the treatment plan?"

"Yes. So we are gonna do an extensive surgery.." For the next fifteen minutes, Bryce explained the complete plan for the surgery along with the pros and cons, and Addy listened to him with rapt attention.

"So what do you think Big A? Do you think this is a good plan?" Kyra asked with puppy eyes.

"Kyra, if Bryce said its a good idea, I have complete faith in him. You couldn't have had a better surgeon on your side." Bryce gave a grateful smile.

"Thanks Big A. You are the best."

Witnessing the exchange between Kyra spoke up with a mischievous smile. "You know, I remember when you two were clueless little interns fighting over who got to treat me."

"Clueless?!" Addison eyes bugged out.

"Little?!" Bryce clutched his chest out of horror.

Ignoring the offended looks Kyra smiled. "I'm glad that I have you both on my side." Addy gave a soft smile and reached to squeeze her hand, Bryce following suit.

"We aren't going anywhere." Bryce spoke. Addison looked up and she saw Rafael standing outside with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Their eyes met and Addy's heartbeat spiked up.

Bidding goodbye, she headed out and closed the door softly behind her.

"Hey Addy." Rafael spoke with a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He opened his arms and Addison walked into the warm embrace. She breathed in his minty cologne and suddenly all the distress of the day washed away.

He is like healing salve to my wounds.

"Hey Raf." She said as she stepped back to look at him.

"How is she doing?" Rafael asked as he waved at her. Kyra waved back enthusiastically.

"She is doing as fine as she can."

"Aren't we all?" Raf said as he looked down at her.

The memory of their previous encounter entered her head and she remembered. "What did you wanna talk about, superman?"

Raf's eyes averted and suddenly found interest in staring at his sneakers.

"No its nothing-" Raf began but Addy, turned him towards her, so that his brown orbs could meet her turquoise ones.

"Raf... I know that look. Its the look which you have when I caught you eating my M&M stash. Tell me, whats wrong?"

"I- I am leaving town."

Addison took a sharp intake of breathe. Panic started churning in her chest as she tried to calm herself. "How long?"

Silence followed which in itself, gave an answer to her.

"Rafael fucking answer me! How long will you be gone?!" Addy's eyes were tearing up and Rafael dragged her into the near by supply closet.

"Don't fucking touch me until you answer my damn question." She exclaimed.

"I..I don't know." Rafael stammered out.

Addison eyes widened and she immediately started rambling. "Where are you going? I am getting an off for the next three days. We could go together and chill and enjoy. You don't need to-"

Rafael gripped her shoulders stopping her. "Addison, I bought a one way ticket."

Do you ever feel trapped or frozen as you see the entire basis of your reality fall apart? That sheer hopelessness and the need to fix it, but you can't?

That's how Addison felt.

"No... Rafael you can't do this! Your friends, your girlfriend, your grandma and your job, is all here!! Boston is your life and you have always wanted to stay here and serve the community-"

"I want a change in pace, can you blame me?" Rafael said crossing his arms, his jaw clenching .

Addison's eyes blazed, the turquoise eyes, turning icy. She looked up at his towering height and poked his chest. "Don't for a moment think that I am going to fucking believe that sorry excuse Rafael Aveiro. I have dated you for seven fucking months and I know you inside out. You may forget or lie to yourself about us, but I damn well know you."

"So look me in the eyes and tell me the fucking truth."

"How can I tell you the truth when you are part of the reason I am leaving?" Rafael said through clenched teeth.

Addy was shocked and speechless. "Me? What the fuck did I do?I literally have been the most supportive person-" she managed to choke out before she was interrupted by him.

"Can't you fucking see it Addison?! I have a fucking girlfriend but I am still, like a fucking idiot, completely and utterly in love with you?! Everyday is a fucking tug of war between you and Sora and its ripping me in shreds. I am loosing all my sanity and to top this, I don't have a fucking job to go where I can just forget everything. I am fucking tired and I need room to breathe."

I am completely and utterly in love with you... That love confession was the best thing she had ever heard, but also like a slap on the face.

"Oh."

"Yes 'oh'. So that's why I have decided that I am going to yeet myself out of this hellish situation and start afresh." Raf said with so much determination that it felt like a stab in the heart.

"Rafael you don't need to do that, please. I'm begging you." Addison pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "You are the only good in this entire city. I- I will cease all contact with you until you get your head straight, as much as it hurts you. But please, please don't leave the city. I need you Raf."

"Addison, if I stay here... I-I can't last another day." He said painfully.

A violent sob shuddered through Addison and Rafael's eyes softened. He wrapped his arms around her as cries racked through her entire body. "I'm so sorry sweetheart... You don't deserve this shit I put you through..."

"Raf..."

"I know that I am leaving now. But if I do come back, be it one month or a day, I promise you that I will make you mine... that is if you still want me." he said, his voice cracking as he ran a hand through her blonde hair.

The embrace got over as soon as it started. She stepped back and cupped his cheek and smiled through her tears. "Rafael... there won't be a single day when I can ever stop loving you. I promise that."

"Me too sweetheart... me too."

#choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry #open heart #open heart mc #open heart 2 #open heart second year #rafael aveiro #rafael x mc #oh rafael #open heart rafael #Rafael averió x mc

[irondad-not-ironsad]

Fix-It

For most it was like the blink of an eye. One second it was 2018, the next it was 2023. People say it was actually extremely disorienting- many refused to believe it, insisting it was a dream or a trick. After they were convinced it was true they had to adjust to a life with five years missing. No one would claim it was a positive experience, but Peter viewed them as the lucky ones, because they didn’t feel it. They didn’t experience the strange tingling sensation, alerting them that something was wrong but not telling them what. They did not stumble into the arms of their mentor, knowing what was about to come but not knowing how to stop it. They didn’t have time to cry, to beg, to plead that they didn’t want to go. They didn’t feel their body tear itself apart, piece by piece, starting at their fingers and toes and slowly creeping inwards. They didn’t have to look Mr. Stark in the face and watch as he began to blame himself. They didn’t have to gather the last of their strength to utter out an apology for the grief they knew they would cause. 

Not only did Peter remember every excruciating second of his dusting, but also the feeling of being reformed, of his body slowly knitting itself back together. His head reformed first and he had the slightly terrifying experience of watching and feeling his limbs reform. It did not necessarily hurt, but it was distinctly unpleasant. There are no words to describe the feeling of suddenly going from being nothing to being something. The rest of the team on Titan all blipped back at the same time, a few seconds after Peter. The guardians hadn’t even realized they blipped, Dr. Strange had to explain it to them when they asked where Tony and Nebula had gone. Peter had been unable to do anything besides sit there silently and try not to hyperventilate. These people were practically strangers, and Peter was unsure if it was a blessing or a curse that they did not know him well enough to sense his distress. 

Next thing he knew, they were portalling directly into a battle. When Peter saw Mr. Stark he wanted to break down and beg to go home, but then he remembered the look on the man’s face when he was dusting, and remembered Tony's declaration that he would view it as his own fault if Peter died. So instead of burying his head in his mentor’s chest and weeping he tried to be nonchalant. Though his actually mask was off, he was very much still wearing one when he greeted Tony, referring to what happened as him getting all dusty. He was aware that he was rambling, but that was pretty typical of him so it wouldn’t betray his true feelings. Peter knew that if Mr. Stark realized how scared he was, he would leave the battle to take him a safe distance away. As the battle raged around them, Peter prepared for the quip about not needing to start a conversation, but was pleasantly surprised when instead Mr. Stark pulled him into a tight hug,

He couldn’t be sure, but he thinks he heard the man asking him to “hold me, kid” Peter allowed himself a few moments to feel safe in his arms, and desperately tried to banish the dampness in his eyes. He felt a feather light kiss to the side of his head before Mr. Stark released him, ruffling his hair in a manner that seemed playful but a fond look in his eyes that was anything but. With that, they returned to battle.

A hard fought battle, a quiet yet resounding declaration and defeat of an army later found Peter kneeling on the ground in front of his mentor, trying to find the right words to say. He figured that at the very least Tony deserved to know that he was successful. With one last apology, Peter allowed Pepper to gently pull him away. In his head he could hear Mr. Stark reprimanding him for apologizing for something that was not his fault.

Those who weren’t dusted claimed they could always tell who wasn’t. They say the blip caused everyone left to lose the last of their innocence, that those who were blipped still have a certain glimmer in their eyes that everyone else lost five years ago. Though no one would say it out loud, there were many that began to resent the dusted,resent the innocence they still had. On the other hand, many of the dusted secretly resented those who weren’t. In that moment on the compound turned battlefield turned graveyard, Peter lost what little glimmer there was left in his eyes.

Somehow, miraculously, wondrously Tony Stark recovered. He made the decision to allow the world to believe he had died to allow himself to truly retire and raise his daughter in the peaceful world he had saved. Not even all of the avengers were allowed to know this. Peter wasn’t quite sure who all knew, but at least Pepper, Morgan, Happy and Rhodey were aware of the secret. Tony allowed Peter to inform his aunt as well. 

Peter was happy for his mentor, he truly was. It was just hard, Tony wasn’t able to come to the city to visit like he used to for fear of being spotted. Between school and patrol Peter hardly ever had time to visit upstate. Despite this, he made sure to keep in contact with Mr. Stark.

A part of Peter felt guilty for not being happy. In his opinion, he had no reason to feel the way he did. He came back to life, his family was healthy and alive and he suddenly had a new little sister who looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but feel that there was some part of him missing, a small piece of his soul that never managed to reform after the blip. Logically, he knew he should talk to someone about it, but compared to the chaos caused by the blip his problems felt to miniscule to worry anyone with. As he climbed into his bedroom following a hard yet exhilarating patrol, he pulled out his phone to give Mr. Stark a call before bed. His post patrol high halted when the call when to voicemail. Putting on his most excited and carefree voice he began to leave a voicemail.

“Hey Mr. Stark, you  would not believe the day I’ve had! School is so weird now with half hour class having graduate and now being adults. There are kids who were in my grade who now have kids! Some of the non blipped kids my age are pretty cool too…”

As Peter rambles on about his day, he hopes that he has managed to disguise the disappointment in his voice.

Part 1/?

AN: I will be honest, this is all I have written so far, but I have a very well thought out plot if you guys like this and want it continued. I started writing this like 2 months ago but just kept losing inspiration. Nothing would make me happier then being sent asks with you guys’ thoughts. Constructive criticism is welcome, but try not to be cruel. Also if anyone would be willing to read over future parts for grammar before I post them and/ or help me develop ideas please message me. Thank you for reading!!

ALSO the title just says fix it because I suck at titles, so please send me any recommendations you have!

#my writing #iron dad #irondad #peter parker #spider-man #tony stark #ironman #marvel #pepper potts #morgan stark #mcu #avengers #avengers endgame #endgame #spiderman #spider son #IRON DAD AND SPIDER SON

[coeurdastronaute]

Giant: Ch. 9

Our bodies are weak, We're tired and hurting Will we ever get to the other side? Dunno but I swear I'll die trying.

The first date was enough to prove that she was certain Kara wasn’t going to escape how she felt about Lena Luthor. And it wasn’t just the thirty six hours of talking and reacquainting. It wasn’t even the way the CEO effortlessly accepted whatever happened, becoming Kara’s number one defender and supporter. It certainly wasn’t waking up next to messy hair tickling her nose or an uptick in her take out deliveries, though all were benefits in their own little way.

Kara realized that it was real, that she had the big kind of feelings for Lena Luthor, quite quickly, and with much alarm. It was the way Lena always held her hand over her mouth when she caught herself laughing too hard, and the way that Lena’s eyes were like life itself. It was the fourth and fifth date and how they were perfectly imperfect, interrupted by a shootout, and the other by an angry investor from Hong Kong, while the date watched and let the other work before teasing them the rest of the night. It was the way Kara could flop on Lena’s couch while she worked and bug her still until she gave up work and let Kara take her to a movie. It was the way Lena got so excited about the robot knee she was building in her spare time, and how she worked on it and held screwdrivers between her teeth and tucked behind her ear, waving them as she explained and Kara feigned understanding. It was the way Kara saw all of those things and catalogued them like precious stones in her memory.

Kara gave the dream, the idea that she could shake Lena, could get her out of her system as nothing more than a gradeschool crush, until they’d had a good solid talk about their place. She knew that they skated around things, but she knew that they tackled what they could, head on, gloves off, out in the open. When she saw that happen, she knew Lena was trying, and she knew what would come next. When Lena told her she was in it, that she was very much afraid and very much out of her element, and very terrified of losing her, but still ready to try, Kara knew she was in deep as well, knew it was more than a crush.

Lena didn’t tell her to, but when Kara told her she was going to have the talk with her sister, it signaled a change, and even the CEO knew it. It wasn’t real until then, it wouldn’t be. For Kara to tell her sister, meant it was something that had a future, and that was a new kind of exhilarating, beautiful, beautiful in the way that the ocean is when waves crush shores and roar and engulf.

They had weeks of trying. They had months of deciding. Kara was in it and she didn’t care at all about anything else, because for the first time since her world imploded, since she saved that plane and became Supergirl, for the first time since her father died and the galaxy kept spinning, she felt centered again, she felt a little more in harmony with the universe, and that was what she chased for dear life. The dream that sprouted from a simple article, was becoming reality. It had to become real and she was sick of living a triple life. She just wanted one. One where she was Supergirl, and a reporter, and had a smoking hot girlfriend.

And while the notion of telling Alex was a big deal, the execution was far more daunting, and oddly terrifying to the younger sister.

“Are you shitting me?” Alex balked, disgusted and alarmed. “Lena Luthor. Luthor as in Lex and Lionel, Luthor? Notorious alien-haters, Luthors? You. And her. I know you’ve been distracted. I thought it was just… I thought it was me being distant, off with Maggie. But Luthor!”

“Don’t be mad,” Kara offered, wringing her hands and wincing as her sister stood up from the stool across from her and began to pace through her apartment.

“Mad?” she pfft’d. “Why would I be mad? Why would I be worried about you? You’ve got it under control!”

“She’s not like her brother or father. They just--”

“Don’t you dare make excuses for those monsters,” Alex stopped her, holding up her hand decisively. “I swear, Kara, you’d forgive someone for stabbing you right in the back if they apologized.”

Her sister paced, back and forth, working it out in her head. She held her hand over her mouth as she concentrated, her nostrils flaring in consternation. It felt like a dumbbell in her gut, but Kara let her have her feelings. She knew it would be difficult, perhaps even most difficult, with the people who knew her as Supergirl. That was why she had to be sure. And she was.

She was certain about Lena, the girl who sent her take out when she was working late, and Lena, the girl who was nothing like the Luthors in the news, but more like the Luthors that Kara remembered as a far away fever dream, who pushed meetings for soccer games and focused on the family and their real life over a dollar, that Lena was so beyond set on Kara, she just didn’t know it or refused to admit it just yet. Lena, the girl who had to buy a whole new apartment’s worth of furniture and teased Kara until she was red and blushing all over before kissing her and promising that it was in need of an update anyway. Lena, the girl who had a penchant for sweet kisses, the soothing kind that came in the form of an absent peck on the nose or forehead, and it was so natural, it just happened, and she would catch herself and furrow almost, wondering who she became, and Kara would watch and kiss her back quickly to approve. Lena, the girl.

But Kara had time. She could take the first step for a girl like that.

“You can’t. It’s too dangerous,” she finally decided. “I’m sorry, Kara.”

“You can’t tell me who I see.”

“You have to be reasonable--”

“I’ve known her for years, Alex,” Kara shook her head and started to raise her voice. “She was at our father’s funeral. She was there for me when you left. I’ve… I’ve been crazy about her since I met her, but I stayed away because of who I am, when all along she already knew, and tried to protect me. But I can have it all. I can be happy. It’s not too selfish to want just… a little… something for me?”

“That was then, before--”

“She hasn’t done anything wrong!” Kara groaned, hands flailing to her side as she shook her head, already regretting the entire conversation. She understood where her nerves came from, though couldn’t place it directly. She knew what it was going to turn into before it even started.

“You’re telling me that you honestly, with your entire being, believe that Lena Luthor doesn’t have a cache of Kryptonite sitting in a vault somewhere in that fancy office downtown? Or one of her labs?”

Kara became indignant, and didn’t hide it. She stood and crossed her arms and tried to plead with her sister to just… to stop and to just trust her.

“She owns about two pounds of it. Two ounces are in a lab in Juneau for alternative energy research. A small sliver is in Mexico City for medical testing. The largest chunk is four point six ounces, and that’s in Paris, where it’s being studied as a possible reactant to cancel out nuclear waste. The rest are all smaller than an ounce, tiny vials, in different places with a list of names of which Lena has control over who has access to any of them, and then monitors all research done to them.”

“You can’t--”

“She bought and destroyed more than twenty pounds of Kryptonite, Alex,” Kara shook her head, annoyed and hurt. “When she saw what her brother did, what he had planned to do before he was caught, she cleaned it up. She’s been cleaning it up since before it happened. She tried to stop them as best she could for a scared, young, nineteen year old could.”

“How can you be sure?”

“How can I be sure the DEO doesn’t have a hundred times that locked up in a bunker somewhere, tucked inside a bullet with my name on it if I step out of line?” she retorted bitterly. “I just have to believe it. I can’t distrust everyone.”

Her sister stared at her before turning around and hunching her shoulders and shaking her head. She made it a few steps before she turned around again.

“How long?”

“About three months.”

“Three... Three months. That’s, that’s that’s. That’s… And you never thought to tell me?” Alex swallowed and floundered with the information, the sting of it surprising her.

“To tell you, my sister, or you, my handler?”

“Kara.”

“I wanted to be sure. I’m telling you now because we… it’s not just a passing thing. I want to keep seeing her. I’m going to keep seeing her. It’s… It’s… It’s serious.”

Alex took a seat on the couch and ran her hands over her cheeks before looking down at the ground as she tried to fathom the news. A hundred of the same thoughts kept raging through her head, like a river, like a storm that pounded against the windows and made itself known above all else. Kara stood in the middle of her apartment and waited, unsure of who she was speaking with, her handler or sister, though both sat before her, and both had probably the same concern.

“Is she good, Kara? I mean-- honestly, genuinely, good?”

“She tries really hard,” Kara promised. “She’s not evil, if that’s something.”

“You’ll be careful?”

“Can you please just skip all of this boring worrying so I can tell you about the girl I am crazy about?” she begged, ready to cry because her sister wasn’t disowning her, jittery because all she’d wanted to do for weeks was have someone to talk to about it.

“I’ll never stop worrying,” Alex chuckled slightly as her sister hopped onto the couch. “And I’m not sure I will trust her either. But yeah. For a little while we can.”

It didn’t take much to get Kara rambling about anything, and it took even less, just a sliver of an open window, to get her to gush about Lena, even if it was to a less than willing recipient. Kara knew her sister, knew that it wouldn’t be the last time they argued about it, but she pushed that aside for the moment because she had a lot of feeling and confusion rolling around like drunk panda cubs in her gut, and had for the past few months without having her outlet to help her sort them out. Only then did Kara realize what a huge undertaking she’d commenced.

To her credit, Alex did her best to listen without a grimace every time Lena’s name was mentioned. She was mildly successful, though that might have been because a large portion of her efforts were spent creating a list of things to do when she went into work the following day. Background checks, security tapping, server hacking, a full dossier to be created.

But that was the handler side, and she tried her damndest to keep the two parts of her separate when it came to her sister. The side Kara asked for, the supportive, hopeful ear, that was always there.

And through it all, it wasn’t lost on Alex the way Kara looked when she talked about the last Luthor. The way she was jumping up and down, her smile the entire way to both ears and as big as she could remember seeing it. It was the look of someone completely enamoured. It was a look she never saw Kara have.

There was a blush when she told her sister about a broken appliance, and about staying up an entire night talking, and just talking, she promised, earning some teasing, and a blush followed the story about Lena making her ice her bruised eye when she blew her powers out, and another when she admitted she liked when Lena wore her hair down and those skirts. There was this… relief, almost, when Kara spoke about Lena, like she had an entire collection of essays written, and was just waiting to share them, as if she’d hoarded the entire Library of Alexandria and it was entirely about a girl.

“Have you told your cousin yet?” Alex chuckled to herself as she relaxed against the pillows, the fight and her day catching up with her will to be awake.

“Fudge,” Kara choked at the realization, her eyes growing wide.

“Let me know when you do. I want to watch.”

When Lena Luthor disappeared from the collective consciousness of the entire city, and nearly the entire world, she did not dally, nor did she waste away and let her brainpower and grooming languish into nothing. While she did try her hand at completely giving up to the whims of the world and bummed her way through a few coastal countries on the other side of the planet, it lasted just six weeks before she was opening up her own firm with the help of her father, under the guise of wanting to do it herself, so as to keep his hands off of it.

Giving up the crystal clear waters, villas, and perfect weather of the French and Italian Riviera, Lena tucked her little company away, into a place more befitting of her mood and overall demeanor. Just about a hundred miles south of Dublin, she took up in a small town and never looked back, was left alone, was not much of a spectacle.

From her warehouse, she worked and she did her best and she kept quiet about the world. It was a simple life, and she thrived in the way that one could from a kind of schedule that did not allow for reflecting on anything of consequence. She had a tiny staff, she fostered ideas, she kept her head down and tried to be happy with after what she considered her Waterloo.

When LCorp was in its fledgling status, in the process of being reborn, it did not spend much time hiring, as opposed to firing, when she held re-interviews and met with every single employee. The only hire she did make was a tiny girl who just wanted her first job in the mailroom.

Jess remembered the interview from time to time, cringing to herself when she really thought about it. Since that moment, since the move that took her out of her hometown of Metropolis and transplanted her in a new city, that brought her a new life, she thought she’d gotten close to Ms. Luthor, with close being a very relative term in the equation.

She knew the order she liked her files, the order she liked her phone calls, she knew which calls to ignore, which to hurry along, she knew which people were detested, she knew who could come and go, she knew dates and times and places, she knew credit card numbers by heart and had two rolodexes for anything she could need in the city. But despite the preparedness required for her position, Lena was not demanding, not a terrible boss. Not every boss would quietly pay for her secretary’s father’s heart surgery and give her time off to help her family. Not every boss agonized about which flowers to send a reporter.

There was a switch to things, the secretary realized, versus her first year working directly under Ms. Luthor. There were more good moods, and more days that ended earlier, some even before eight. If she wasn’t mistaken, it all had to do with the blonde who monopolized the schedule she tried so desperately to keep.

“Hi, Jess, is Lena in?” Kara asked politely as soon as the elevator dinged.

“Ms. Luthor is just finishing up a few things. She said to keep you at bay until she finished, or you’d be late for the game.”

She earned a small smile and laugh before Kara relented and gave in. Jess didn’t mind her, in fact, she really did like the spunky blonde who occasionally brought her coffee. She didn’t mind her because she was the key to having a somewhat regular life, she was the key to getting her boss out the door, and keeping her in a good mood. She was, most importantly, a well-deserved hunk of happiness that a formerly very un-happy boss once did not have, and that was something to behold.

“So it’s Lena’s birthday in a few weeks,” Kara brought up, nervously toying with the lamp before Jess stilled it as she moved it.

“Yes.”

“What do I have to do to get you to keep her weekend clear?”

“Are you trying to bribe me to alter my boss’ schedule?” the secretary eyed her cautiously. “There is only one thing that is expected of me and it is to never be disloyal to Ms. Luthor. That would include changing her schedule.”

‘I completely understand, and I will take the blame for it if she gets mad.”

“I can’t.”

“That’s why she likes you so much,” Kara smiled softly, unperturbed. “Do you think she’d like camping?”

For a moment, Jess took the compliment before the second part hit her and she couldn't help but scoff.

“Have you met her?”

They shared a look and Kara sighed before glancing at the door.

“I’m at a loss of what to do for her birthday,” she finally confessed.

For a moment, Jess looked down at her notebook, and she smiled because she’d never seen someone so worried about their girlfriend, genuinely distressed by the prospect of not having a gift or plan.

“She doesn’t celebrate it,” Jess finally sighed. “She hasn’t celebrated it since I’ve known her.” She looked up at the blonde who now furrowed and shook her head, not wanting to believe it. “At least three years it hasn’t been mentioned. Since before Metropolis.”

“Hey,” Lena breezed into the hall, balancing a few folders. “I thought I heard you out here.”

With the smallest movement, she reached her hand out to Kara’s waist and held it there as she kissed her cheek, earning a small blush. Jess couldn’t look away if she tried. It was so innocent and natural, it didn’t almost feel as if it were something. The secretary was on board with the relationship so much that she felt voyeuristic in those moments. But it was better than cable.

“I told you to stop distracting Jess when you visited. She’s just being polite,” the CEO chided her girlfriend. “Could you please fax these, and finish scheduling the rest of my trip to DC?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I wasn’t distracting,” Kara defended herself weakly.

“Not at all,” Jess offered.

Gone was the woman who came into work in her tight dress and heels, perfectly done makeup and not a hair out of place. In her stead was someone who smiled, with tight jeans and a jersey, ready for the game she was stealing away from work at a normal, human hour, to go see.

“See? I can behave myself.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Lena shook her head and pushed her girlfriend toward the elevator. “Don’t stay so late.”

“Yes ma’am. Have fun,” the secretary called.

“And make sure you keep my birthday weekend clear. I am anticipating a surprise.”

“You heard,” she smiled.

“I know Kara,” the boss smiled sympathetically. She earned a squeeze around her shoulders and a kiss on her temple as the wove themselves together. “I appreciate you, Jess. Kara is the singular exception to every rule I have regarding my schedule… and life.”

“Don’t confuse her,” Kara chuckled. “I like our back and forth.”

“Fine. Ban her forever,” Lena chuckled as she was tugged toward the elevator.

Like schoolgirls, they giggled through the empty lobby. Jess sat behind her desk and leaned back, watching them in their matching jerseys and stolen kisses. Before the doors closed, she caught sight of the taller blonde, hugging her tight and kissing Lena’s cheeks.

With a sigh, she swiveled slightly and ignored the ringing phone. Come hell or high water, she had to make sure they worked, because her boss was in a mood that made her life so much easier, and for the four years she’d worked for Lena Luthor, she’d never seen her so happy.

The rainstorm lingered through the night, turning the streets into rivers and the gutters into waterfalls. Even when the sun tried to come up, the windows remained dark, dotted with the streetlight glow and the blur that the raindrops left splattered there. Clouds hung low, choking out buildings from the sky itself.

Soggy and oddly cold, Kara spent the night wrapped up with a DEO mission, as she’d been for the past week. It left her drained, and when it came to a head, she felt it all catch up with her; the balancing of the articles, the research, the mission, the girlfriend. It was a lot sometimes, but especially when one require more than the others. The rest then suffered.

That was why she ended up in the big bed in the penthouse instead of collecting a few extra hours of sleep in her own apartment. Her bed would have been empty. Lena’s had a decided advantage.

Even though it was late, the lights had been on. And still damp from her trip and night, Kara landed, and for just a moment, watched the CEO pace as she read from her notes, preparing for her annual shareholders meeting speech, making notes in margins, waving her hand as she fast forwarded herself. Kara was distracted with her lips when she bit her thumb absently. She was in love with the slope of her jaw.

Still darker than dark out, still sounding of rain and the low, distant grumble of thunder, Kara heard the alarm  and woke for just a moment before rolling over and growling to herself at the imposition and loss of her warmth and human pillow.

Eyes shut tightly, the hero snoozed while absently hearing Lena get ready and move around the bedroom. She heard the pop of her shoulders, the crack of her knee when she stretched, she heard the shuffling of clothes and the sound of water hissing to life in the bathroom. None of it mattered. Kara couldn’t move from the cocoon she concocted in Lena’s absence. Her week and the night before caught up with her. She feigned alertness when she came in and earned kisses, she found a new kind of wakefulness when she found her head between Lena’s thighs, though it was gone when her head hit the pillow.

“Hey, honey,” Lena whispered, crouching beside the bed. She ran her hand along Kara’s temple and earned a squinted up face that dug into the pillow. “I have a conference call in an hour. Sleep, okay? I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Mmmm, okay,” Kara hummed.

Warm hands moved to her neck, to her back, to her shoulders.

“We have dinner with James later, and then we’re not doing anything today.”

“Let’s do nothing now.”

“Soon, love,” Lena promised before kissing her girlfriend’s forehead and earning a kiss on her hip as Kara dug into her without lifting her body at all.

“Do good out there.”

“Sleep well.”

It was an order that Kara took too eagerly. She didn’t even remember hearing Lena leave, just that the bed dipped and the warm palm was gone from her spine. It’d been too long since she’d had an adequate sleep, and too long since she’d had one that knocked her out completely, but she earned it and she took it because the sheets smelled like Lena and the bed was ridiculously comfortable, and far removed, up in the penthouse, she got to believe she was removed from the world and the city.

Some hours later, it was the sound of a vacuum that woke her. Coming out of nowhere, it clicked on and startled her so badly, she sat up in bed and gasped, clutching at her chest almost rough enough to do damage. It took a few minutes for her to understand what was happening. It took another few minutes for her to find pants on the floor and slip them on before groggily meandering into the living room to find the source of the racket that woke her up before ten on a perfect, rainy Saturday.

Shoulders square and about a good foot and a half shorter than Kara, the older woman pushed the vacuum precisely, rigidly, while an older model iPod hung on her hip and older headphones clung to her ears. Kara recognized the song that came out of them and smiled.

Clad in a well-worn grey sweatshirt and jeans, the little woman moved with a familiarity, and did not notice Kara at all as she turned off the machine and began fluffing pillows. Her little white sneakers squeaked against the floor as she moved.

Kara crossed her arms over her old shirt she stole from Lena’s work-out drawer, and though tight on her shoulders, she felt oddly even more out of place in it with a stranger in the apartment.

“Hello?” Kara tried, though to no avail. “Excuse me?”

It wasn’t until her third or fifth attempt that Kara got a response in the form of the woman gasping and jumping back, alarmed at the quiet addition to the room who sheepishly waved and tried to not look threatening.

Slowly, headphones were removed, and Kara cleared her throat, wrapping herself up tighter in her own arms under the quizzical eyes she was given and the swears muttered under her breath.

“Who the hell are you?” she accused.

“I’m… I’m- I’m Kara,” the hero offered, furrowing at the less than warm reception of the stranger in her girlfriend’s apartment. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“Kara, Kara, Kara,” the woman slowly pulled the headphones down and tasted the name, racking her brain for some trigger to a memory where that name mattered. “Lena’s Kara!”

“Um. Yes?”

“Well I’ll be damned,” she chuckled, her accent coming thicker with more words. Kara tried to place it, tried to place her. “I’m Francine. I help tidy after Ms. Luthor. We haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I, deary?”

“No, no. I was just getting up,” Kara lied to spare the white-haired irish woman who turned from fierce jackal to tottering grandmother in just an instant.

“Usually, I’m not here on Saturdays. But I went to visit my son and his family in Metropolis this week, and I wanted to make up for missing,” she explained moving through the living room. “Just look at you.”

Before Kara could react, she had bony hands on her cheeks and deep brown eyes close to her own face. She felt herself bend, tugged down a good foot to the level of the housekeeper. She was suddenly aware that she hadn’t brushed her teeth and that she just woke up from a good ten hour nap, and looked it. Nothing deterred the woman though.

“Your picture doesn’t do you justice, darling.”

“Than--Thank you?” A pat rested on her cheek before she was off again and Kara was left half bent over and confused by her morning.

“Are you hungry, macushla?”

“Always.”

“Come on, come take a seat. I want to know everything. I’ll make you a good breakfast. Homemade. Lena orders out too much. I try to leave her some things. I’ve been telling her that for years now,” she prattled on as she shuffled toward the kitchen, leaving Kara little option other than to follow.

Your housekeeper is a tiny Irish elf who is cooking me a full breakfast. She typed a message to her girlfriend quickly as she took a seat at the island, no other choice, and not one to turn down a breakfast.

“I’m sorry, Francine, you said for years?” Kara caught up with the ramble of the surrogate grandmother.

“Oh yes, ever since she moved into my house in Máihle. Too thin. I made her eat every day. I don’t know what kind of cooks she had back home, but I was appalled,” she continued, digging out ingredients from the fridge. “Coffee? I’ve made some tea just a bit ago.”

“Tea is fine, thank you.”

I’m sorry! I forgot she was coming. Isn’t she great? Don’t let her scare you. She’s mostly harmless.

Never once did she stop moving. She was a freight train, and not one movement was wasted. She was efficient and did well, had done it for years. Kara liked what she was made of already.

While she cooked, Francine did her best to get to know Kara. Scraping and mixing, she asked about her work, about knowing Lena before she was the CEO, before her run away, she asked about who she was, and Kara did her best to pass whatever test it was.

By the time the plate was full and slid in front of her, Kara felt as if she was best friends with the housekeeper. By the time she took her first bite, she was in love and understood why Lena helped her move to be closer to her son.

There was something nice about being doted on. Slightly amazed, Francine cleaned up the kitchen and made a little more as the human garbage disposal almost cleared the plate. She kept up her questioning, getting Kara’s entire history, learning of her intentions, her plans, her ideas.

“It’s been a little easier, lately,” Francine wagered as she poured herself another cup of tea. “She doesn’t need as much looking after.”

“The Lena I knew never needed looking after,” Kara smiled to herself as she chewed.

“Everyone always needs someone to make them a warm cup of tea and ask them how their day was. I don’t know how, but she just became one of my own. My daughters are older, all married with their own lives. My son moved and started his family. My husband has been gone for… rest his soul, about fifteen years. I suppose I needed her to need me,” she realized, cupping her mug gingerly.

The hero took another bite of toast and surveyed her face, traced the wrinkles, the hard won lessons, the generosity, the caring. Lena mentioned in passing how much she admired the former revolutionary, how much she helped her get through starting her company, how much she hated that she thought she owed Lena. There was a kind of nice dynamic to them.

“You take good care of her, yeah?” the housekeeper turned her gaze on Kara once more, earning adjusting glasses and a clearing throat under such scrutiny. “I know you must hear what people say about her name. It’s not fair.”

“I do the best I can,” Kara promised.

“She thinks she doesn’t have a family. She does with me. She did with you.”

“I’m very glad she had you when she left.”

It was honest, but Kara earned a slight blush, one she never considered the housekeeper capable of making. So gruff and honest and kind, she just seemed beyond the ego to let something to to her head. The personification of humility and hardwork took the compliment though, because it was an important one.

“I like your appetite. Lena told me you ate a lot. I just liked that she kept her fridge stocked. Were you here that night her apartment got broken into?”

“Broke into?” Kara furrowed and pushed her plate away, finally satisfied after too much and a weird desire to break up with Lena for a tiny Irish grandmother.

“Oh yes, the apartment was torn apart,” she explained, grabbing the plate quickly.

“You don’t have to. I’ll get that--”

“You should have seen it. Couch was snapped in half! The fridge door was broken off! I even think the old vase was broken. It was an absolute mess,” Francine explained, shaking her head as she went to work cleaning up the plate.

Kara blushed ferociously into her mug. Her ears burned themselves raw when she realized what she was talking about, and her own hand in all of it.

“Oh, yes. I think she told me about it…” she lied, averting her eyes.

“Hello?” Lena called, interrupting the conversation. Her heels clicked and clacked a few times before she made it to the living room. “Hey,” she grinned, almost out of breath, when she saw Kara. “Dia duit, conas atá tú?” she turned to the housekeeper.

“Fhágann tú cailín deas mar seo i do leaba?” the Francine turned to Lena with a frown and her hand on her hip, mock demanding and shaking her head, prepared to scold with a smile. “An bhfuil mhúin mé tú rud ar bith?”

“She’d still be in my bed if you weren’t vacuuming like a crazy woman,” Lena objected, leaning down to kiss the housekeeper’s cheek, earning a pinch on her rib, measuring her weight. “I’ve told you to stop cleaning. I’ll take your key.”

“I was getting to know your girlfriend,” the grandmother defended herself, giving Kara a wink. “Is maith liom í.”

“She fed you,” Lena shook her head, turning to the hero who watched it all happen, and surveyed the pots and pans drying.

“It was really good,” Kara grinned, earning a kiss on her temple.

“Believe me. I know. Put on ten pounds living with her. Every morning, she was grabbing me for just a cup of tea which turned into a full breakfast, which turned into oh, look at that, a packed lunch, which turned into stop by my place for dinner. And then it was ‘you can’t go running in this rain, you’ll catch your death,’ which turned into dessert.”

“Oh look at you,” Francine smiled and watched the two. “Bhfuil tú sásta.”

“I am very happy,” the CEO promised with a smile. Kara looked between them quizzically. “She said I should be ashamed for leaving my bed when I had a pretty girl in it.”

“You should be!” Kara agreed.

“Sit down,” Francine ordered with her smile hiding itself as she grabbed a dishtowel and turned on the stove again. “You haven’t eaten yet. I’ll make you breakfast.”

“A family of seven, she can’t cook for one,” Lena explained, not bothering to fight. “You better still be hungry.”

“I could eat again,” Kara shrugged, earning a smile from her girlfriend.

The settled there, while the the grandmother cooked and fret and laughed and caught up with them. It’d been almost two weeks since she’d had a chance to run into her adopted daughter, cleaning quickly the week before and leaving to see her son. Lena missed her greatly, knowing full well that the excuse to clean, to be “hired” by her, was an excuse to catch up and check on her from someone who made it a habit.

Kara got caught up in it, enjoying the way Lena laughed and grew louder, the way she looked when someone cared for her. And so she sat there and let Lena rub her thigh and made a note of just another aspect of Lena that she never expected.

It was getting more and more difficult to leave. Kara knew she had to, knew that she couldn’t spend the night, knew that they had to keep a balance, and yet it was never easy. She frankly didn’t want to leave when she had so much skin on display, and she didn’t want to miss even a second of their time. Something about midnight and the dark and just being a bubble of themselves of which the real world didn’t impinge, it was addicting.

There was a quiet truce between them, to not push, to not rush, to hold the reins and pull back because if they didn’t, if they truly just jumped in, both wouldn’t survive. Kara was grateful for it. She was convinced that part of her would lose Lena at the drop of a hat, that if she made any sudden movements, the CEO would skitter away. For Lena, it was almost the same, because regardless of the hero’s huge heart, she knew that she’d lost an entire planet and as much as she thought of her future, she did not know how to have one.

All at once, both existed in a state of fear, oscillating themselves between staying and being so afraid they couldn’t imagine it working despite it succeeding better than imagined.

“Do you remember when we were just friends?” Lena wondered in the night. She chuckled at the idea a bit, still blown away at their progress. It’d be twenty years later, if she was lucky, and she’d still wonder how she got Kara in her bed.

“I do. I’m enjoying the more though. It’s been a pretty solid six months.”

“I never even let myself imagine this, that this, that more was a possibility. It’s all like a dream.”

“Me neither, honestly,” Kara confessed.

The sheets shifted as Kara smiled and hid in Lena’s thigh, in love with her honesty in moments like that, the quiet and the dark. At night, it was easier to think that they were allowed to just be them, that they could be two kids who got a chance.

“Be honest, Kara. Do you think we’ll make it?”

From her spot on Lena’s hip, Kara adjusted her glasses before she bought herself a few moments by kissing Lena’s hip, by kissing her thigh. If she ever saw something better than a naked Lena in her bed absently running her hand over her own chest, Kara was certain it’d be in whatever construct of the afterlife that was true. Nothing would be better, and if it was, she was surely dead.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Is there anything you would change about us?”

“I’d like to never leave this bed again,” Kara smirked as she ran her fingertips through Lena, earning a shift in hips. “I want more time with you. We’re so busy and pulled all over the place. But honestly, everything is going well. I think it helps that we know each other. What about you?”

Lena couldn’t speak. Instead she just swallowed and played with herself while Kara continued to tease again. Fingers slid along her, toyed with her, slipped inside her slowly earning a broken kind of moan that hadn’t expected to exist. She didn’t have any other thoughts.

“Fuck,” Lena groaned as Kara slowly withdrew her fingers, before she kissed here there, before she smiled as she took her time.

“Do you think we’ll work?”

“Not if you kill me with sexual torture.”

That was all of the urging the hero needed.

Kara felt muscles tightening, heard heart racing, heard Lena’s tiny hum and purr. It was all music to her, all encompassing and all that she ever wanted to hear. She meant to leave. She wanted to leave. She had to leave because she already slept over Lena’s just yesterday. She couldn’t go two nights in a row. And then she was there, and Kara realized she just wanted to make Lena feel good.

“Can I… Do you want me to-- I really want to--”

“I swear, Kara if you don’t-- Oh God!” Her words were stifled with all manner of language.

Kara knew she had to go, but that didn’t stop her from taking her time. She liked the way Lena tasted. She liked the way her heart beat out a jazz-like beat, all unsteady and wild and like the world was on fire. It deafened her. It urged her forward.

Hands knit violently into Kara’s hair, Lena couldn’t help herself. Frantically out of breath and body unbelievably tense before relaxing into a puddle, she moaned and saw stars.

“So, do you think we’ll make it, Lena Luthor?” Kara grinned as she wiped her mouth off on her forearm.

She couldn’t think at all to say how much she wanted it to work. Her body was cold and hot all over at one time. It was too much to fathom. It took a few minutes for her hands to unclench from the sheets and Kara’s hair.

“Goodness.”

“Lena, we’re going to be fine. We’re fine,” Kara promised, kissing thigh, and hip and stomach. Gently she climbed up the bed, peppering silly, gentle kisses on exposed ribs and stomach. “I am unbelievably excited to be doing this with you.”

“I can’t think of words right now.”

“I like this,” the hero murmured, kissing her way up Lena’s chest, finding the spot in her neck that she loved to nuzzle and hid in.

Lena’s hip adjusted and she nudged Kara’s hip slightly as she tried to get comfortable. Just a bit too heavy, she loved the feeling of Kara atop her, keeping her anchored to the bed when she was certain she was flying away. And Kara softly kissed her neck and sighed as she settled there.

For a few minutes, Kara listened to Lena’s heartbeat calm itself. She yawned and curled into the nails that finally moved up and down her spine.

“You have to go to Sydney on Saturday, right?” Kara mumbled.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to do dinner on Friday?”

“I could be persuaded,” Lena hummed, eyes closing as she tried to memorize just how relaxed she was and Kara mad her.

For just a little longer, as tired began to make itself known, Kara allowed herself stolen time with Lena. She liked her girlfriend’s independence, she valued her own, she adored their pace.

“I should go.”

“Stay,” Lena hummed, already half asleep. She shifted and held onto Kara a little tighter.

“Two nights in a row?”

“You can’t just,” she yawned and shifted closer. “You can’t just give me an orgasm and go. You’ll give me a complex.”

Even tired, even losing the fight, Kara blushed and smiled, hiding deeper into Lena’s shoulder and neck. Hands played with her neck, gently soothing there, while another held her thigh close, not letting her escape.

“Wouldn’t want that.”

“I’m always afraid you’ll leave before I get a chance to leave.”

The words were true and tinged with sleep. Kara listened to Lena fight sleep, felt her kiss her forehead, and as warm as she was, as wrapped up as she felt, she couldn’t find tired again. It was honest, and Kara understood Lena better than she could express. Lena wouldn’t leave, and Kara was going to make sure she had a future.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kara promised.

“Good.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Sydney,” Lena muttered, turning slightly as she yawned and hummed her tired song  against Kara’s cheek.

“Just there,” Kara grinned and closed her eyes.

NEXT

#supercorp