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searidings · 3 years

Note

hi, i just love you and your writing

can i suggest something - you are in love (taylor swift) and supercorp

i cannot listen to that song without going yeah, that's them

(also on ao3 if you prefer)

Five years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, five years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which is as close as Lena's come to happiness since she'd woken up ziptied to a chair in her brother's office. This moment which, despite the fuzzy feeling of her unbrushed teeth and the pungent aroma of burnt toast filling the air, is perfect.

Kara, bed-warm and sleep-heavy, is gazing beseechingly down at the charred remains of a slice of a bread as though if she only pouts hard enough, its edges will un-blacken and its corners will stop smoking.

“I'm so sorry,” she says as Lena rounds the screen separating Kara's bedroom from the rest of the apartment and perches herself on a barstool, tugging her borrowed sleep shorts a little lower down her thighs.

Kara's tone is mournful, her face so forlorn she looks to be one deep breath away from tears. “I wanted breakfast to be perfect, since it's your first time staying over and if it's terrible you might not want to stay again and I, I really want you to stay again, but I don't know why you would since you probably have a private chef waiting for you at home and I can’t even manage toast—”

“Kara,” Lena interrupts, biting at the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Kara's bottom lip trembles. “It's fine, really. I once set fire to my dorm kitchen trying to boil an egg. And besides,” she winks as blue eyes meet hers. “I like to give my personal chef the weekends off.”

Kara huffs out a relieved chuckle, her face brightening. “Oh, well, in that case,” she grins, a sparkle returning to her eyes. “I'd better feed you up before you go home. Never let it be said that I don't look after you.”

Lena can't help the smile that pulls at her as the warm bright feeling in her chest grows and grows. She tugs the sleeves of Kara's sweatshirt over her hands, fighting the urge to fidget as the blonde orders a frankly obscene amount of food from the brunch place on the corner.

She feels exposed like this, face bare and hair sleep-mussed, unshowered with unbrushed teeth, huddled inside borrowed clothes after the impromptu invitation to stay over when last night's movie marathon ran late. It's a far cry from the regimented composure she fights so hard every day to project, and something in her chest twists anxiously.

Kara is a reporter, after all, and National City really doesn't need any more reasons to hate Lena right now. The darkest corner of her mind – the one which has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to come crashing down ever since the whirlwind of Kara's too-good-to-be-true friendship had come blazing into her life – still worries that this may all be an elaborate ruse. A trap, a way to get close to her in order to assess her weaknesses, to bring her down with an inside scoop.

But in their six months of friendship, Kara's never given her any reason to believe she has any kind of ulterior motive. And despite the suspicions and anxieties hammered into her by a lifetime of hurt, Lena knows now that even if this is a trap, she'll take the bait willingly. Especially if it means Kara will keep looking at her like there might just be something in Lena that's worth her time.

"Hey,” the blonde says gently, leaning back against the counter opposite and pinning Lena with a searching look. “You okay? You kind of zoned out on me there.”

Lena jumps, blinking back into herself with a start. “Yes, sorry. I was miles away.”

The blonde only smiles, flicking on the coffee machine at her elbow. “You sleep okay?”

“Very well, thank you,” Lena answers, fighting to lessen the formality of her tone, to soften the edges her harsh childhood had sharpened into a fortress to keep the world at bay. “Your bed is surprisingly comfortable. I had a great night's sleep.”

"Perhaps the company had something to do with it,” Kara winks as she turns to pull two mugs down from the hooks at her shoulder. Lena thinks back to the smell of Kara's sheets and the soft pulls of her breathing, to the warmth of Kara's ankle against her calf and the strong fingers that had wrapped themselves in the sleeve of Lena's sweatshirt in sleep, anchoring them together. She blushes.

Kara only smirks, pouring their drinks and grabbing the milk from the fridge. “Well, the food's all ordered, it should be here soon,” she says over her shoulder, the waterfall of her golden ponytail mesmerising in the bright rays of morning light filtering in through the vaulted windows. “And you don't need to head off in a hurry, unless you have plans—?”

She glances back at Lena, who shakes her head. “Great!” she grins. “’Cause I was thinking, maybe we could check out the botanical gardens, since it's such a nice day? Oh, and there's a new bakery right across the street that I've been dying to try—”

Lena listens to the blonde's excited rambling with an endeared smile plastered to her face, feeling happy and warm and wanted with every fibre of her being. The feeling is new but so welcome she could cry, and Lena wonders – not for the first time – how she ever got so lucky.

Kara's presence in her life is like sugar in her coffee; meant only to sweeten that which has always been bitter.

Lena's always taken her coffee black. Softening the blow was never much her style.

But here, now, perched at Kara's breakfast bar with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug the blonde has brewed to perfection, sunlight streaming in and highlighting the angles and planes of Kara's face, the way she’s smiling at Lena like there's nowhere else in the world she'd rather be, she realises her reasoning is twofold.

Sugar isn't just appetising. It's addictive. And now that Lena's had a taste of sweetness, she's hooked.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

Four years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, four years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which may well be one of the lowest of Lena's life. And she's had some doozies.

The two bottles of wine she'd managed to mainline between Sam leaving to orchestrate damage control at L-Corp and Kara arriving and attempting to confiscate her glass have well and truly caught up to her now. She sways heavily on her stool, the room spinning. Tears sting her vision and guilt scorches her throat as she presses a hand over her eyes so she won't have to look at Kara's face anymore.

“Please, just— just, stop believing in me, okay?” she slurs, heart full to shattering with the faces of lead-poisoned children. “I am not worth it.”

She hears Kara sigh, and the room falls silent for a long long time. Lena drops her head fully into her hands, fighting the nausea that's taken root in the pit of her stomach. It could be the booze that's causing it, of course, but it could also be the incessant headlines baying for her blood, the bullet James had taken for her that she'd fully deserved, the curse of her family finally fulfilling itself.

The guilt, the worry, the crushing disappointment of the knowledge that despite her very best efforts, she'll never be anything but a monster— it's too much to feel. It's too much to bear.

So, Lena drinks.

She drains her glass. She pours another. Kara watches, silent and disapproving, fingers twitching against the granite countertop between them.

Lena finishes her glass. Splashes the last dregs of the bottle into it, blood on ice. Still Kara watches, motionless and mute. It's only when Lena's swallowed the last of the red and is lurching unsteadily to her feet to source another that she moves, a hand reaching out to encircle her wrist.

Shame ignites beneath her skin and she pushes Kara away. Snaps at her to go home, to learn to recognise a lost cause when she sees one and just give up already. Kara refuses with a stoic shake of her head, and Lena sighs.

They repeat the same routine three times en route to Sam's wine rack, the blonde shadowing her every step. Each time, Lena wobbles, head fuzzy and room spinning. Each time, Kara steadies her, and Lena flinches from her touch like her palm is a brand, snarls at her to leave, to cut her losses, to just fuck off. Each time, Kara refuses.

She eventually retrieves the wine after a number of unsuccessful attempts but overbalances on her toes, bottle slipping from her grip as she sways dangerously. And then Kara is there, glass bottle caught a split second before it can shatter, a firm arm at her waist that will not be rebuffed.

Lena struggles, shoving and protesting, but this time Kara does not give in. “Enough,” she says quietly, firmly, blue eyes burning a mere inch from Lena's own. “Lena, enough.”

Lena's unsteady legs buckle further and Kara’s basically holding her up now, walking her slowly over to the couch and she shouldn't be this strong, surely, shouldn't be lifting Lena onto the cushions quite this easily. But it's such a minor concern when weighted against the fact that Lena is personally responsible for the hospitalisation of children that her mind brushes over it, forgets it immediately.

"Please go home,” she slurs as the blonde arranges her on the couch, as she stashes the unopened wine far out of reach and sets about finding blankets and pillows in various cupboards. “Please, just— leave me alone.”

“No,” Kara says, almost snaps, glancing back over her shoulder. Partially hidden in the linen cupboard, her face is cast deep in shadow, a splinter of half-concealed truth. “I made you a promise, I gave you my word. I'm your friend, and I will protect you. Always.”

She crosses back to the couch, soft blankets and pillows held out in invitation. When Lena refuses the offering Kara sighs, draping a knitted throw over her anyway and perching on the cushions beside Lena's hip. “I'm not going to leave you, so you might as well stop asking,” she hums, softer now, a hand reaching toward her that Lena no longer possesses the strength or coordination to bat away.

Long fingers make contact with her cheek, with the mussed curls tangling in her eyelashes, and Kara sighs. “You are not your brother,” she murmurs, fingertips grazing Lena's cheekbone, sliding back to thread into the fine hair at her temple. “And you never will be. There's too much light in you to allow for that kind of darkness, so put that fear down, Lena. Let it go. Be free of it.”

Tears spring unbidden to her eyes. “I poisoned children.”

Kara tilts forward and Lena wonders if it's just that her vision has upped its spinning, but then warm lips are pressing against her forehead, soft and delicate as gossamer wings. Kara's mouth moves against her skin, breath damp and sweet and unmistakeably her. “You saved the world.”

Neither one of them moves. When Lena speaks again, the words hit the elegant hollow of Kara's throat. “I don't deserve your kindness. I don't deserve you.”

Kara's lips are still on her forehead. “I don't care.”

Lena feels as if her throat is splitting open, every last fear and hatred and worry and insecurity gushing out of her in an unstoppable stream. “I'm scared.”

“I know.” Kara's lips press once more, and then withdraw. They watch each other in the dim light from the kitchen. Lena's vision is beginning to blur at the edges. Kara's hand is still in her hair.

“You will get through this,” the blonde whispers, so earnest Lena almost manages to believe her. “We'll figure it out. Together.”

Heart in her mouth, tongue sticking behind her teeth, Lena's eyes slide closed.

The sweetness of Kara's words, her gentle touches, seep inside her like honey. She doesn't deserve it but God, she wants it. She wants to be worthy of Kara's faith in her more than she's ever wanted anything in her life. She wants Kara more than she's ever wanted anything in her life.

And it's telling, she knows, that she's just lost the trust of all of National City, that she has no way of easing those children's suffering and no way to prove that she isn't the cause of it, that she's finally living up to the Luthor name she's been running from ever since she'd learned what it truly meant and yet in this moment, with Kara's hand in her hair and the ghostly imprint of her lips on Lena's skin, none of it seems to matter.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

Three years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, three years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which stands alone as an oasis of calm in the turbulent tumult of the past days, weeks, months of chaos. Lex's escape from custody, Eve Teschmacher's betrayal, James’ shooting, the Harun-El serum, the whole shitty totality of it all has been weighing Lena down like an nth metal chain around her neck.

And Kara, Kara hasn't been around. The one person who has always managed to ease Lena's suffering has deserted her when she needs her the most and it feels like she's been sliced open, cracked in two.

She tells her as much, when Kara at last comes to see her. Tells her she's missed her, tells her she needs her, all but begs her to stay. And what does Kara do? She leaves.

And when she leaves, Lena is gripped by a panic so intense she fears she may never breathe freely again. So terrified is she that Kara is gone for good, that she's forced away the best thing that's ever happened to her, that almost before she knows what's happening she finds herself at Catco with apologies dripping from her own tongue.

Anything to get Kara back. Anything to keep her.

Lena apologises. Kara apologises. Lena cries, and Kara holds her, and tells her that the decision to help her brother when he was dying of cancer doesn't make her the monster she now believes herself to be. And standing on her office balcony with Kara's fingers wrapped around her biceps, with her own tears spotting dark on Kara's blazer, Lena manages to believe her.

When she's collected herself, smoothed away the wetness coursing down her cheeks, she speaks. “I really want to help you with your investigation on Lex.”

Kara's face lights up; Lena's whole world along with it.

“I'd love that,” Kara says, voice quiet and still a little tentative in the wake of their new truce. “But first— would you, um. Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Lena blinks. “Don't you want to get started on the exposé?”

“I do. But—” Kara's face is still painted that earnest shade from earlier, when she'd smoothed her hands over Lena's shoulders and whispered you are a brilliant, kind-hearted, beautiful soul against the sensitive skin of her neck. Lena feels her cheeks heat up at the memory, at the intensity in the blue eyes still roving her face.

Kara shuffles her feet but her gaze is clear, unwavering. “But you were right. I've spent too much time recently prioritising the wrong things. So, I want to work on this exposé with you, and I want to bring your brother down. But first, I'd really just like to have lunch with my best friend.”

Lena's heart trips in her chest. “I'd like that too.”

So, that's what they do. Kara asks her to wait, which she does, idly tapping out a few emails on her phone. And then the blonde is back, far quicker than should have been possible, with her arms full of takeout bags from the café on the third floor and she's taking Lena by the hand and leading her to Cat Grant's private elevator. She presses the button for the roof and Lena's gaze jumps to her face but Kara only smiles, and squeezes her fingers. “Trust me, it'll be worth it,” she hums, her excitement infectious. “You'll be safe with me.”

And Lena believes her.

That's how she ends up sitting at the edge of Catco's roof on a clean sheet Kara had borrowed from the builders on the second floor, heels kicked off, Kara's red blazer draped around her shoulders. It is worth it, she'll admit; the view from this high is phenomenal. The sun burns bright in a cloudless sky, glinting off the glass-sided skyscrapers of the business district, the glittering waters of the bay beyond.

Kara had picked up Lena's favourite salad, some flatbreads and dips, and they drink kombucha and eat strawberries in the sunshine. They talk and they laugh and they catch up and there's no more fighting, no animosity, no megalomaniac brothers or backstabbing secretaries or worlds needing to be saved. There's only them, she and Kara, and it feels like all she will ever need.

The blonde's hands are braced behind her on the rooftop and she looks happy and carefree as she regales Lena with stories of her upstairs neighbour's antics, and Lena feels the tight knot of tension that had taken up residence in her chest begin to unfurl.

"Hey,” Kara hums, pushing up straighter as Lena licks strawberry juice from her fingertips. The motion brings them closer, their shoulders brushing. “Look up.”

Lena does. High above them, a huge murmuration of starlings whirls and swoops through the air. Thousands of birds move together as one, a vast wave cresting but never breaking against the blue canvass of sky.

“Wow,” Lena gasps, awed.

Against her side, Kara hums. “Yeah.”

They watch the birds for a long moment, captivated by the ceaseless swirling and diving. When Lena at last tears her gaze away from the sky, Kara's eyes rest intently on her face. "Here,” the blonde murmurs, reaching out. The pad of one finger makes feather-light contact with her cheek. Lena's breath catches in her chest.

Kara holds out her finger, proffering the stray eyelash she'd captured with a smile. "Make a wish,” she whispers, her fingertip an inch from Lena's mouth. Her eyes never leave Lena’s.

Lena looks from Kara's face to the eyelash, and back again. From somewhere deep inside her heart, the truth bubbles its way to the surface. “I don't need to.”

Kara smiles, a brilliant, beautiful smile, and Lena knows. The stresses and anxieties of their current crisis feel far away here, harmless as birdsong. She's meted out forgiveness, received it in return. For the first time in her adult life Lena has communicated an issue with a loved one and been heard, understood. She has admitted her own mistake without having it spell out the end of her relationship.

Lena smiles back. The weight of the world sublimates into nothing beneath the bliss of a simple picnic in the sun.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

Two years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, two years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which has sapped the both of them to the bone. Another fight, another screaming match, another quick-fire back and forth of accusations and recriminations. Another night of cursing and crying and choking on all the things they never said before this, on all the things they can't now that Kara's secret has detonated in the shrinking space between them like a nuclear bomb.

Another round of bloodshed, and for what?

Lena sags against the arm of the couch, exhausted. Her face is hot, scratchy with salt from the tears still drying on her skin. She's dehydrated, probably, and half hoarse from shouting, tongue blistered with the bitter sting of betrayal.

Across the no man's land of her living room, Kara slumps against the floor-length windows, drops her temple to the cool glass. She's breathing heavily, cheeks wet, posture battered and eyes dark-bruised beneath the force of Lena's wrath. As Lena watches, her eyes slide closed.

It's been three months since Lena found out. Three weeks since Kara found out that Lena had found out.

Every night since, they've done this. Every night, Kara has shown up on her balcony and begged, pleaded, apologised, cajoled, defended, rebuffed, and sobbed. Every night, Lena has unleashed the hollow agony of Kara's deception masquerading as anger in her chest, incinerating the both of them in the fires of her desolation.

She would have expected the wounds to have cauterised by now. To feel some kind of release, the relief of catharsis. Or at least, to have expended some of her fury after all this time.

She hasn't.

They've been at this for three hours already this evening, and gotten nowhere. Kara's skin is pale above that fucking supersuit, face drawn and complexion sallow.

Lena knows how she feels. The singular exhaustion that is her rift with Kara has sapped her in every way imaginable. She can't sleep. She barely eats. She's no longer interested in work, research, friends. There's nothing in her life that isn't tainted by the shadow of the lies her best friend told and kept telling, every day for four years. Lena doesn't know how any amount of screaming and crying is ever going to get them past that.

Across the room, Kara sighs. It might be the saddest sound Lena has ever heard.

“Should we keep doing this?” she asks after an interminable silence, voice rough with tears still building. Her eyes are still closed.

Lena manages, with exorbitant effort, to raise her drooping head. “What?”

“Is there a point to all this?” Kara asks quietly, hunched body sliding a little further down the glass. "The explanations, the fighting?”

Blue eyes blink open. The weight of the sadness in them is unbearable. Lena struggles to find it within herself to care.

“Lying to you about who I am is the single biggest mistake I have ever made, and if it will make even one single shred of difference I will apologise to you every day for as long as I live,” Kara says into the aching chasm between them. “But I can't keep doing this. Not if it won't change anything. I can't— I don't want to keep hurting you.”

An hour ago, Lena would have scoffed at a sentiment like that. Would have parried back with some piercingly dry comment about how the blonde should have thought about that before she decided to betray Lena's trust as soundly as she possibly could.

Now, though— now, she's just too tired.

“So, should we keep doing this?” Kara whispers, throat working. “Or— God, Lena. Should we just— should we give up?”

Green eyes meet blue, two shattered hearts haemorrhaging between them. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” Kara's voice is loud, fiercely determined in the face of Lena's hesitant whisper. “God, no. Never. I don't ever want to give up on you, Lena. I don't ever want to give you up.”

Kara straightens then, with a strength Lena cannot imagine mustering herself. Perks of being a superhero, she supposes. Perks of being Kryptonian. The thought stakes another shard of ice through her bleeding heart.

“But I know that I've spent four years calling the shots for both of us by keeping you in the dark,” Kara continues. “I've taken away your agency. I've taken away your choice. I won't do that again.”

She sucks in a deep breath, a little of Supergirl's regality seeping back into the defeated slump of her shoulders. “So, I'm doing what I should have done from the start. I'm being honest with you, and hoping that you'll be honest back. I'm asking what you want.”

Kara's fingers twist anxiously before her, bottom lip bleaching white beneath the nervous pressure of her teeth. “Do you think we should keep doing this? Or do you— fuck.” Her voice cracks, the tears brimming in her eyes once again breaking free. “Do you want to give up?”

Jesus Christ. Lena never knew that the prospect of doing the right thing could hurt so much.

“Fuck,” she mutters as she kneads her knuckles over her closed eyelids, digging in until white lights starburst across her vision. “Fuck, Kara.”

“I know,” the blonde whispers from across the room, brittle and broken. “I know. I'm sorry.”

Lena slows her assault on her own eyelids, pinching thumb and forefinger hard at the bridge of her nose instead. “I want to give up,” she mutters, and in the taut silence between them she hears the blonde gasp, watery and thick.

Lena blinks open her eyes to find Kara's face crumpling, every facet of her seeming to fold in on itself even as she visibly fights to keep herself upright.

Lena sighs, and hates Kara, and hates herself even more. “I want to, but— I can't.” She sucks in a ragged breath, hating the truth that's just fallen from her lips, hating the lies that had necessitated it. Hating everything and everyone and most of all, hating just how much she's hurting. “I can't give this up.”

The tiniest spark of hope flares to life in Kara's eyes. Lena hates that she notices, hates that she cares, hates that the sight eases the tight knot of devastation clawing at her ribcage just the tiniest bit.

She also knows that this was inevitable. She knows that, though she hates Kara, though she's nowhere close to forgiving her, though she has no idea how they can rebuild from here or even if she truly wants to try, a question like Kara's could only ever have one answer.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

One year from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, one year from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which is barely even a moment at all. It's more like a dream, warm and faded and fogged in darkness, seconds stolen when sleep should have long since claimed them.

Kara's nightmare had woken them both. In the month since they'd pulled her out of the Phantom Zone, she hadn't slept alone once. Often, she stays with Alex, curling into her sister's side the way she would when they were just kids after one too many late-night horror movies. Once, she stays with Nia, tucked up snug in a borrowed pair of puppy print pyjamas.

Mostly, she stays with Lena. It's natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, the way Kara will show up at her place after a Supergirl save or Lena will let herself into the blonde's apartment after a late night in the lab. They cook dinner and watch Celebrity Masterchef and brush their teeth elbow to elbow at the bathroom sink and when Kara is inevitably tugged screaming and sobbing from her night terrors, the way she presses her face to Lena's neck and her hand over Lena's heart is natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, too.

Kara's racing pulse has calmed a little, her grip on Lena's body beneath her losing some of its urgent desperation. After a long moment of Lena's hand stroking her hair, of gentle reassurances and lips pressed to her temple the blonde pulls back, just enough to rest her head on the pillow facing her.

In the dim light filtering in through the bedroom window Kara's pupils are blown, her face solemn. There's something in her heavy gaze that Lena can't identify; something weighted and potent that prickles goosebumps up the length of her spine.

"Feeling better?” she whispers into the inch of warm air between them, reaching out to tuck a sweat-matted curl reverently behind the blonde's ear.

Kara catches her retreating hand and holds tight, twining their fingers together on the narrow swathe of pillow between them. If either of them were to move so much as a millimetre, their clasped hands would press against their lips.

The blonde nods and sure enough, the soft heat of her mouth brushes the back of Lena's knuckles. She shivers.

Kara is still watching her, the intensity of her gaze causing Lena's heart to thud hard in her throat. She squeezes lightly at the fingers threaded through her own. “What?”

A pause, heavy and sweet as overripe fruit. Kara blinks once, slow. “You're my best friend.”

Lena swallows down a sudden swell of emotion. The blonde nudges closer and when she speaks, the wet seam of her lips catches on the angle of Lena's bent knuckles, painting her skin with the words.

“You're the most important person in the world to me,” Kara whispers, breaths skating fire-flashes across Lena's fingers, voice muffling out past the mouth pressed to her skin. “You know that, right?”

Lena's voice deserts her in the wake of the quiet words. She leans forward instead, presses her lips to Kara's fingertips where they rest against the back of her own hand. It's answer enough.

She hears Kara's breath catch, feels the disruption mirrored in her own chest. Both their mouths are pressed to the joined hands clasped between them. If they were to move their fingers down even just a fraction, there would be nothing separating their lips but a promise, a prayer.

Kara's eyelashes flutter in the semi-darkness. The tip of her nose brushes Lena's own. Neither one of them moves their hands.

They only gaze at one another a long moment, and Lena wonders if the blonde is memorising the planes of her face the way she's memorising Kara's. She could look at her forever, be happy here with her forever, and in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

For the first time, she wonders if she might not be the only one.

Right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking Lena's hand.

It's been three weeks since they'd taken down Lex for the last time. Three weeks since Kara had stormed into the Tower's med bay to cup Lena's bloody, bruised face in her hands; since she'd brushed her thumbs feather-light over Lena's split eyebrow and purpling jaw and growled don't you ever scare me like that again. Three weeks since she'd leaned in and pressed her lips to Lena's.

It's been two weeks and six days since Lena, confined to a gurney but utterly uncaring thanks to the warm Kryptonian curled against her side, had pressed her aching face to Kara's shoulder and first whispered that she loved her. Two weeks and six days since Kara had first said it back.

It's been two weeks and five and a half days since Nia had walked in on Lena in Kara's arms, lips pressed to her neck and hands wandering beneath her sweatshirt, and promptly shrieked the place down. Since their friends had exchanged pointed glances and relieved sighs and congratulated them on finally making it official, their expressions ranging from overjoyed to exasperated to plain exhausted.

It's been two weeks and four days of she and Kara dating; of morning kisses and shared showers and the perfect partner at game night and all of Lena's wildest dreams coming true.

It's been less than a minute since Kara had admitted, hushed and wondering, that she'd known she was in love with Lena ever since she'd found herself suddenly prepared to poison National City's entire water supply rather than let Lena fall. That she hadn't been able to fully it admit it to herself until she'd found herself suddenly prepared to alter the course of all of history in order to get Lena back.

And right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking her hand. She's looking deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice barely rises above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And now that she has, Lena is sure of her answer.

The highlight reel of her relationship with Kara lays itself at Lena's feet, each precious memory between them stretching out like a roadmap of her growing affection, with every hard-won step leading her right to this moment.

And in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love with Kara. Really, she always has been.

#sorry this took approximately 8932018207402 thousand years to materialise #if you've ever sent me a prompt and thought well fuck she's taking so long with this she's clearly forgotten about it i'm just here to say:#nope!#still here #unsure how inspired by the song this actually was in the end #it's either way too close to the lyrics or not close enough #who can say #but anyway yeah. supercorp song #thank your for the prompt and the lovely message! hope you like it #asks #anonymous #ridings writes #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers

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eddycurrents · 5 years

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For the week of 21 January 2019

Quick Bits:

Aquaman #44 continues “Unspoken Water” from Kelly Sue DeConnick, Robson Rocha, Daniel Henriques, Sunny Gho, and Clayton Cowles. This story feels a lot like some of the ‘80s DC reimaginings that came on the heels of Crisis on Infinite Earths, playing with the mythology in a new way while approaching the narrative from oblique angles. Definitely an interesting revelation about the people on the island. Rocha, Henriques, and Gho are probably doing some of the best art of their careers.

| Published by DC Comics

Avengers #13 gives us the origin of the 1 million BC Iron Fist from Jason Aaron, Andrea Sorrentino, Justin Ponsor, Erick Arciniega, and Cory Petit. The artwork from Sorrentino, Ponsor, and Arciniega is gorgeous, capturing some of the feel that David Aja brought to K’un-Lun in The Immortal Iron Fist.

| Published by Marvel

Batman #63 continues to attempt to break your brain as “Knightmares” continues with Mikel Janín and Jordie Bellaire joining Tom King and Clayton Cowles for the fun. This one gives another possible explanation for what’s going on as John Constantine warns Bruce and Selina of what’s going to happen in their domestic bliss.

| Published by DC Comics

Blossoms 666 #1 is kind of a slow-burn opener, intent on easing the reader into the surprises of this type of horror, which somewhat works against the back cover blurb and solicitation copy, but eh. Still, some great character work from Cullen Bunn building Cheryl and Jason. And the artwork from Lauren Braga and Matt Herms is perfect.

| Published by Archie Comics / Archie Horror

Cover #5 kind of sets us up for a conclusion next issue. Kind of. It’s more character building, anecdotes from comics conventions, and exploration of the art form through various means that has elevated the series from the beginning from Brian Michael Bendis, David Mack, Michael Avon Oeming, Zu Orzu, and Carlos Mangual. The Ninja Sword comic sequences this issue are particularly great.

| Published by DC Comics / Jinxworld

The Curse of Brimstone Annual #1 offers three stories, one focusing on Brimstone and two fleshing out adversaries Detritus and Wandering Jack. Great art throughout from Mike Perkins, Neil Edwards, John Stanisci, Denys Cowan, Donald Hudson, and Rain Beredo.

| Published by DC Comics

Crypt of Shadows #1 is one of the one-shot revivals of old titles for Marvel’s 80th anniversary from Al Ewing, Garry Brown, Stephen Green, Djibril Morissette-Pham, Chris O’Halloran, and Travis Lanham. It’s pretty great, presenting two short stories embedded in a framing narrative, reminiscent of the old horror anthologies.

| Published by Marvel

Die!Die!Die! #7 is more balls to the wall action and insanity from Robert Kirkman, Scott Gimple, Chris Burnham, Nathan Fairbairn, and Rus Wooton. It’s the battle between Lipshitz and Barnaby that has been building for a while now and, well, it’s violent, bloody, and brutal as you’d expect. Also, cats.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Freedom Fighters #2 is mostly some vague teasers of things to come and one giant, flashy fight sequence, but it’s an entertaining fight sequence. The art from Eddy Barrows, Eber Ferreira, and Adriano Lucas really get to do the heavy lifting in this story and it shines.

| Published by DC Comics

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #2 proves that the first issue wasn’t a fluke, with Tom Taylor, Juann Cabal, Nolan Woodard, and Travis Lanham providing another highly entertaining, very funny, beautifully illustrated story. Taylor captures Peter’s voice incredibly well.

| Published by Marvel

Go-Bots #3 jumps a bit in the narrative, with a team of astronauts aboard Spay-C discovering Gobotron, where a decidedly authoritarian Leader-1 is taking some draconian measures to keep the Guardians in line, while still fending off Cy-Kill and his minions. Tom Scioli keeps us off-balance a bit for what’s going on and it adds a nice tension to the story. Also, the locking mechanism for the prison cell is a nice touch of nostalgia.

| Published by IDW

Guardians of the Galaxy #1 is a great debut from Donny Cates, Geoff Shaw, Marte Gracia, and Cory Petit, setting up a new post-Infinity Wars Marvel cosmic standard. There’s a good deal of action and humour through this as Thanos’ wake leads to many of the cosmic “heroes” pledging a path to an odd bloodbath--with a large amount of Earth-based heroes as possible targets--and a heist of his body by the Black Order (who’ve also stolen Knowhere) before anything can get underway. This is probably one of the stranger “gathering of the team” stories, but it gets it out of the way in a fascinating manner to hit the ground running next issue. The art from Shaw and Gracia is suitably epic.

| Published by Marvel

Hardcore #2 has some very nice art from Alessandro Vitti and Adriano Lucas, as Drake finds he has his hands full with both Markus trying to fully take over the Hardcore program and the criminal organization he was trying to take down being on to him. Both trying to kill him. Lots of entertaining action in this one.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Hellboy and the BPRD: 1956 #3 brings up some interesting history questions for the Bureau and certain locations we already know about, as Mike Mignola and Chris Roberson’s script continues to dovetail some already existing knowledge of history.

| Published by Dark Horse

High Heaven #5 conclude season one of this series as well, leaving David exactly where he wished to be, but finding out it’s not necessarily what it’s cracked up to be. Tom Peyer, Greg Scott, Andy Troy, and Rob Steen have really been delivering a bitingly funny take on the afterlife here. Also another fun Hashtag: Danger short from Peyer and Chris Giarrusso. I’m glad that this one is going to be graduating to its own feature for Ahoy’s second wave of books. And the issue is rounded out by the usual prose stories and text pieces.

| Published by Ahoy

Immortal Hulk #12 is a tough one. Even as Hulk travels deeper into the heart of Hell and Al Ewing continues to wax philosophical in the narration about the nature of evil and the concept of the devil or an opposite to god in comparative religions, we get a hard look at Bruce’s upbringing and the abuse that he suffered at the hands of his father. It’s a difficult read as his father tries to justify his abusive actions, but it’s one hell of a character study. Great guest art on the flashbacks from Eric Nguyen to complement the main story’s art from regulars Joe Bennett and Ruy José, with colours from Paul Mounts. It’s astonishing the heights that this run is hitting, one of the best Marvel is publishing.

| Published by Marvel

Justice League #16 concludes “Escape from Hawkworld” from Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV, Jim Cheung, Stephen Segovia, Mark Morales, Tomeu Morey, Wil Quintana, and Tom Napolitano. It’s very much a lore dump, with the Martian Keep telling J’onn about the multiverse before and of Perpetua, along with some interesting and complicated other revelations, but it’s rather interesting.

| Published by DC Comics

Livewire #2 sees Amanda captured, beaten, and mutilated by mercenary bigots at the behest of the US government to figure out a new way to control and neuter psiots. It’s always interesting that these people think they’re doing the “right thing” to justify their genocide. Very impressive artwork from Raúl Allén and Patricia Martín as always. Allén and Martín‘s choices for layouts, colours, even panel-styles lead to some very interesting visual storytelling.

| Published by Valiant

Low Road West #5 concludes the series, but leaves enough doors open for more somewhere down the line. This has been a very strange series, starting as a kind of post-America future and then tossing in some alternate reality weird western body horror stuff out there. All throughout with some inventive and unique artwork from Flaviano and Miquel Muerto.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

Man Without Fear #4 presents us with the bedside manner of Kingpin from Jed MacKay, Paolo Villanelli, Andres Mossa, and Clayton Cowles. I really like Villanelli’s art here, which seems to be channelling the spirit of Chris Samnee.

| Published by Marvel

Naomi #1 is an incredibly beautiful comic. Jamal Campbell has really gone out of his way to craft a gorgeous first issue, perfectly balancing the ordinary, everyday people of Port Oswego, Oregon and the disruption caused by the superheroics of Superman bouncing through in a battle with Mongul. Brian Michael Bendis, David F. Walker, Campbell, and Josh Reed have something interesting here, working at the fringes of the DC Universe from the perspective of ordinary people, and ordinary people not living in a Metropolis or Gotham at that.

| Published by DC Comics / Wonder Comics

Oliver #1 is an amazing debut from Gary Whitta, Darick Robertson, Diego Rodriguez, and Simon Bowland. It’s worth it alone just for Robertson and Rodriguez’s extremely beautiful, detailed artwork, bringing to life a bombed out, desolate London in stunning detail, but then the story hooks you. There’s a mystery to Oliver’s identity and lineage that pulls you in and the development of a society of an unwanted class of disposable clone soldiers is very compelling.

| Published by Image

Pearl #6 is a very interesting conclusion to the first arc from Brian Michael Bendis, Michael Gaydos, and Joshua Reed. Great bits of comedy throughout what is otherwise a fairly heavy issue. Stunning artwork from Michael Gaydos.

| Published by DC Comics / Jinxworld

Quincredible #3 continues to build the world around Quin, as well as showing him learning through action, and finding out the complications of living in a fairly tight knit community where everyone knows everyone. The predicament that Rodney Barnes, Selina Espiritu, Kelly Fitzpatrick, and Tom Napolitano leave us in is compelling and really develops well through the narrative.

| Published by Lion Forge / Roar / Catalyst Prime

The Spider King: Frostbite continues Hrolf’s adventures, now trying to cleanse the world of any remaining alien presence, in this one shot. The main story is a fun tale taking on another brand of infected creatures from the mini-series team of Josh Vann, Simon D’Armini, Adrian Bloch, and Chas! Pangburn. There’s also a back-up starring Sigrid taking no bullshit from Vann, Pangburn, and art by Daniel Irizarri.

| Published by IDW

Superior Spider-Man #2 is essentially an issue-long fight between Terrax and Octavius, but it’s rather entertaining, from Christos Gage, Mike Hawthorne, Wade von Grawbadger, Victor Olazaba, Jordie Bellaire, and Clayton Cowles. The artwork is incredible throughout and there are some humorous cameos.

| Published by Marvel

Teen Titans #26 is the first of this series I’ve picked up, largely since in a few months it will be crossing over with Deathstroke, and it’s not bad. It seems intertwined with Red Hood (another title I’m not reading), but all of the necessary information seems to be being provided in the story, giving no problems with narrative flow. Adam Glass adds some very nice humour in the dialogue that keeps things snappy. The art from Bernard Chang and Marcelo Maiolo also nicely captures a youthful vibe.

| Published by DC Comics

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #90 begins to pick up the pieces from the EPF’s assault on Burnow Island, as well as weaving in the bits and pieces from the recent macro-series, as the Turtles and the Mutanimals hold a wake for Slash. Great art from Michael Dialynas and Ronda Pattison.

| Published by IDW

X-O Manowar #23 begins “Hero” from Matt Kindt, Tomás Giorello, Diego Rodriguez, and Dave Sharpe. It’s largely set-up,--bringing back the bounty hunters who assaulted Aric previously, showing off Kate’s new ship in action against said bounty hunters, and then Aric wondering how he pees in the suit--, but it’s damn entertaining. Also, Giorello and Rodriguez practically put on a clinic for visual storytelling.

| Published by Valiant

Other Highlights: American Carnage #3, The Avant-Guards #1, The Beauty #26, Buffy the Vampire Slayer #1, Cloak & Dagger: Negative Exposure #2, DuckTales #17, Exorsisters #4, GI Joe: A Real American Hero - Silent Option #3, Grumble #3, Jim Henson’s Beneath the Dark Crystal #6, Kaijumax: Season 4 #4, Lightstep #3, Lucifer #4, Mars Attacks #4, Monstress #19, Outcast #38, Regression #15, Rise of the TMNT #4, Road of the Dead: Highway to Hell #3, Shuri #4, StarCraft: Soldiers #1, Star Trek: The Next Generation - Terra Incognita #6, Star Wars #60, Sukeban Turbo #3, War is Hell #1, The Witcher: Of Flesh & Flame #2

Recommended Collections: Battlepug Compugdium, Black Panther - Book 6: The Intergalactic Empire of Wakanda Pt. 1, Cosmic Ghost Rider: Baby Thanos Must Die, Coyotes - Volume 2, Daredevil - Volume 8: The Death of Daredevil, Jughead: The Hunger - Volume 2, Marvel Two-in-One - Volume 2: Next of Kin, Polar - Volume 1: Came from the Cold, The Problem of Susan & Other Stories, Proxima Centauri, X-O Manowar - Volume 6: Agent

d. emerson eddy did not eat the last piece of cherry pie. It was the cats, they’re trying to frame him.

#This Week in Comics

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thecloudlight-blog · 7 years

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New Post has been published on Cloudlight

New Post has been published on https://cloudlight.biz/how-roger-ailes-and-fox-news-changed-the-world/

How Roger Ailes and Fox News changed the world

To some quantity, all of us live in the world News that Roger Ailes bequeathed us whilst he died in Palm Beach, Florida, on Thursday, bleeding onto his mind after a fall.

It is a world of shiny color and actuality of view, of countless risk and hyper-vigilance. The world wherein true and evil is delineated by using presenters with lustrous hair and wonderful teeth and wherein lubricated catheters, gold cash and reverse mortgages are hawked via lively retirees.

Ailes, as an awful lot of any other unmarried man or woman

No longer simplest created the political environment that allowed Donald Trump to emerge as president, however an information and political model that has swept the western international, such as Australia.

Ailes turned into the writer of Fox News, the tough right cable news channel that got here to dominate American politics and that made Rupert Murdoch one of the maximum effective guys on earth.

Last 12 months, as Murdoch started the painful procedure of passing manage of his empire to the following technology, his sons Lachlan and James compelled Ailes to renounce due to an unpleasant sexual harassment scandal. This 12 months they sacked Ailes’s largest star, Bill O’Reilly for the equal cause. A Washington Post columnist tweeted that to mark Ailes’s death “Skirts at Fox might be reduced to half of-mast.”

Ailes became loathed as a whole lot as he turned into love, but no longer even his most trenchant critics ever doubted his genius for the medium he formed.

Ailes learned politics as a younger guy as a media representative to Richard Nixon and went directly to recommend Ronald Reagan and George HW Bush.

Murdoch employed him to release Fox News in 1996 and it without delay prominent itself with its shiny hues and clarity of vision. It did not begin to surge in scores until the September 11 assaults (while it has become the first information outlet to consist of a ticker across the bottom of the screen) and the 2003 invasion of Iraq. Drenched in muscular patriotism it became to grow to be the maximum profitable arm of Murdoch’s worldwide empire.

Roger Clemens Workout

Roger Clemens exercising has executed legendary fame. Not most effective have Roger Clemens controlled to live in shape and in shape for over 15 years, he also has stayed harm unfastened for the most part. See it wasn’t long ago that he turned into skinny and small and regardless of the drug problems surrounding his training, there is nonetheless lots that we are able to analyze from Roger Clemens exercising.

Most people have visible the clips performed again and again of Roger and his teacher appearing crunches, smith machine squats, and agility drills but I guess that there has been a lot greater involved than simply the ones few movements. I’d be inclined to be that Roger Clemens workout targeted on some principles inclusive of the rotator cuff and shoulder health, upper body power and lower body explosive power and agility. So what would possibly Roger have completed?

Well for starters he could greater than probably have squatted or lifeless lifted quite often due to the fact that the one’s movements are absolutely the satisfactory for growing lower frame explosive power. Any pitcher could be smart to pick one of those lifts and teach at least twice in step with the week on the way to enhance those regions. They simply have to be the base of any lower body software. You can lunge and do unmarried leg movements all that you need however without a squat or a dead carry your decrease body training goes to be lagging at the back of others.

The Roger Clemens exercise also ought to consist of a few heavy upper frame movement.

Too many human beings suppose that pitching is all about decrease body power and that is incorrect. While the decrease body is crucial without each top frame strength and versatility then you’re done. Pitching comes down to shoulder fitness so if Roger performed a unique lower frame exercise then tried to throw together with his legs the ball could have gotten hit out of the park every time.

His top body ordinary ought to of consisted of each chest urgent and cable urgent and chopping actions. This way he can paintings in each an electricity and functional manner. Having him rely upon one or the alternative does wouldn’t always get him stronger sufficient. Another essential thing inside the Roger Clemons exercise is rotator cuff health. He needs to of warmed up with numerous shoulder outside rotation movements and mid back strengthening sports like rows and single arm rows.

There ought to have additionally been a good buy of a shoulder, higher percent, neck and again stretching involved as nicely. Pitching the manner Roger did could surely have tightened those regions up as a way to maintain him healthful all of these additives need to have been part of the Roger Clemons exercise.

Summer Fuel Prices: The Latest News

What to anticipate this summer season – will gas fees move up?

Spring is almost right here, but anyone is looking forward to what will occur this summer time in phrases of gas charges. Projections from experts abound on what to expect when it comes to car gasoline costs, with much of the effect relying on the course of the new Trump management as it relates to market dynamics. Here is an outlook from Alan Levine and Brian Milne on crude, gas, diesel (heating oil), propane and natural gas as pronounced by using Fuel Marketer News (FMN).

Gasoline

This is one area wherein there’s lots of delivering but weak demand. At the second maximum on record, there is already too much gasoline flooding the marketplace. In reality, retail costs are better by 50 cents now than the equal time remaining year. The summer should inject a bit of a lift into the economy, as employment is at the upward push with extra task profits occurring.

Also, thanks to the Corporate Average Fuel Economy (CAFE) standards, mileage enhancements are keeping excessive demand at bay. In Mexico, fuel exports are on the rise, as their demand grows because of a more potent economic system. Gasoline charges are predicted to remain stable for the summer time when an increase is possible to occur. The average price of $2.39/gal in 2017 is anticipated.

Propane

Propane should lead exports, as it’s a totally strong product in the interim. If you are going to buy propane, now could be the time to do not forget. Its fee is seeking to be 10 to twelve cents inexpensive in 12 months, as it emerges as an opportunity fuel in industries like road creation and landscape work.

Crude

At among $50 and $55 in keeping with the barrel, for the time being, crude is experiencing an abundant deliver no longer simplest inside the United States but at some stage in the arena too. Many elements may stabilize crude expenses within the coming months, especially OPEC’s current production cuts which might be currently propping expenses up.

Also at the upward push are claims of excessive levels of compliance by way of distant places producers, especially from Saudi Arabia, which says they would be open to deeper cuts in manufacturing if dishonest increases all over again. As an aside, shale oil technology is an effective shape of fuel 12 months over 12 months, however, it is nevertheless more high-priced than conventional oil.

Natural Gas

Natural fuel is growing in demand, outpacing deliver in Dec. 2016 for the first time inside the U.S. Mild weather this iciness is guilty, as is the impact of LNG exports on charges and call for of herbal gasoline. The new trade coverage of the Trump management may also keep guiding this.

Diesel

Also known as a commercial gas, diesel has been strong with high demand for distillates. The best place where this isn’t authentic is with No. 2 heating oil. Again, hotter-than-ordinary January and February temperatures are responsible. Distillate consumption became at the 1/3-lowest level inside the last 15 years.

If you have more questions about what gas fees will seem like this summer and all 12 months round, touch Taylor Oil name today or go to Fuel Marketer News (FMN)

Taylor Oil Company keeps America transferring. The most useful issue of on-website online fueling services to construction crews, contractors, boats and marinas along the East Coast and past, Taylor Oil offers the very best exceptional fuel, diesel fuel and other petroleum merchandise 24 hours and afternoon, seven days every week. Our gadget is synchronized in your agenda, assuring your potential to maintain machinery running and projects profitable.

World Championship Rings

World Series jewelry is awards given to every participant in Major League baseball who has received the World Series. Started inside the 1922 World Series when jewelry was given to the participants of the triumphing team, the New York Giants, courtesy agencies like Tiffany& Co or Balfour, they have grown in stature and length. They flaunt the group’s brand in treasured stones like diamonds and rubies and are set in 14 karats white gold. Teams buying their very own individuals have a system of the type with the grandest jewelry for their top games and watered down versions for players decrease down the rank and group employees. While the first jewelry had multiple diamonds, the modern-day version has over two hundred diamonds!

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