goldenpuppy - 11:48 PM
I WANT MY MONEY
GIVE ME YOUR MONEY
kieran.L - 11:55 PM
Ba dum TSS
[attached image]
Or, Kara is an overwhelmed uni student and needs money, and Lena simply wants to blow money, and maybe make a friend or two.
Sugar baby/Social media AU.
Words: 9623, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: F/F
Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Additional Tags: Social Media, Alternate Universe - College/University, Sugar Mommy Lena, Sugar Baby Kara, Friends to Lovers, kara may be the sugar baby but lena’s the Babiest, lena is three years older than kara, money is sexy let’s not lie, rated m for the thirsties who try to get on with kara
from AO3 works tagged ‘Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor’ https://ift.tt/2Np4u2Y
via IFTTT
http://archiveofourown.org/works/21334564
I hate that I’m always trying to find cool biology themed stuff to wear but all the “nature inspired” clothing companies just have like two crossed arrows or a minimalistic mountain on a sweatshirt. Fucking lame, that’s barely even nature-adjacent. Put the life cycle of a salamander on a jacket, put hyena skeleton patterns on leggings, put a damn field guide of birds of prey on a peacoat and THEN you can have my money. Do NOT give me a shirt with a leaf on it that says “stay wild” or some bullshit I would much prefer clothing that broadcasts to everyone around me how many teeth an adult Jaguar has or how some pitcher plants can catch and digest rats.
Okay, you need to make sure you play this game at some point. Maybe not today or anything, because you’ll need about thirty minutes and a serious willingness to understand how it works, but - it’s so worth it. It’s basically an answer to our occasional frustration - why do assholes always come out on top? - and the beautiful thing about it is that not only does it explain how that happens, but also how we can change it.
“In the short run, the game defines the players. But in the long run, it’s us players who define the game.”
Don’t check just this - check out all of Nicky Case’s work. They’re a brilliant creator and I heavily recommend checking out at least one of their projects. Their website can be found here.
Parable of the Polygons - an interactive experiment that shows how tiny individual biases can collectively cause segregation on a massive scale.
To Build a Better Ballot - an interactive experiment that shows the alternatives to the voting systems we currently use and how they can be more representative and democratic, along with their faults.
Coming Out Simulator - a short interactive story/novel about coming out, based off of Case’s own experiences. Not one I’ve played myself but still one I can recommend.
Loopy - a very simple but useful tool to show how systems interact with each other and how things can self-propagate.
We Become What We Behold - “ a game about news cycles, vicious cycles, infinite cycles.“ A short five-minute game about news and media. Warnings for violence, blood, death and stress.
Girlies! Remember on feb 1st a green comet will be passing by earth's orbit!!!!!!! Make sure u take a sneak peek at her bc she only comes around every 50000 yrs!!!!!!!!!!!! ☄️
you say it's my villain era and what you mean is that when you were six you panicked about wearing the right thing to kindergarten, what you mean is that in middle school nobody was eating, what you mean is that you spent high school prepping for college and college prepping for adulthood and adulthood fucking lost in the system.
what you mean is that you've been good. you were a good team player. you would have never considered yourself perfectionist - those are people more popular, prettier, more successful - but you carry any flaw like a secret in you, terrified someone will desert you for the simple reality of your personhood.
if you were good you could be loved. you could be loved if you were selfless and thoughtful and caring. if you bent over for every person, if you went above-and-beyond, it would absolve you of who you actually were. deep down, how horrible that you had needs. that you had boundaries, that you had desires. you learned young that you cannot afford to cut people out of your life - you would have nothing left. it is better to live in the service of others, to supplicate. to worship. you weren't exceptional, you had to make up for it in some way. to prove to others you were worthy.
if they need you, it's the same thing as loving you. if you are always-there, always-listening, always-friendly, you are filling a role. you have a purpose. you are living correctly.
villain era, you repeat. you mean: yesterday you finally told a man no. for hours afterwards, you couldn't control your heartbeat. you mean: you've been saying positive affirmations on repeat, trying to teach yourself any new thing about how self care is necessary. you mean: three weeks ago, due to a scheduling conflict, you finally told a coworker that no, you couldn't do them a "quick favor". you have felt bad about that ever since. sure, it would have made you work late and it would have been extra stress - but you feel bad about it nevertheless.
you tell your therapist you have been leaning into evil. she asks what that means. when you tell her: sometimes i prioritize my own needs, she doesn't find it funny. she looks at you a long time.
someone will go on a 2 hour tirade about how they’re near their breaking point and I’ll be like “that is absolute awful, would you like me to make you a cup of tea?”
if someone tells you their sleepy and would like to feel more awake, try giving them an orange and cinnamon black tea or an English breakfast tea
if someone has a migraine, try giving them green tea (caffeine helps headaches)
if someone is nauseous, try giving them a non-caffeinated mint and/or licorice root tisane
if someone is feeling generally unwell, try giving them chamomile tisane (I make mine with lemon juice and sugar)
if someone is anxious or cannot sleep, try giving them a camomile, mint, catnip and/or lavender tisane (caffeine makes anxiety worse) (make sure none of these herbs could negatively effect a medication they’re on) (make sure they’re not allergic to any of these, especially chamomile which is a somewhat common allergen)
my recommendations for teas to consume while hanging out with people you love are sweet iced tea, Earl Grey or chai
Ginger is another wonderful tea for nausea. I also use it for anxiety, since it’s an incredibly strong flavor and helps ground me. (Any strongly-flavored tea like mint works for this. Try to avoid caffeinated tea, because caffeine can worsen anxiety.)
Supercorp fic where Lena runs a popular webseries/blog about plants and plant care and Kara (one of her avid subscribers) is absolutely hapless when it comes to keeping plants alive and is constantly asking Lena for help only to fail spectacularly. Lena is *convinced* Kara is fucking with her on purpose, and kinda sorta hates her virtual guts
Lena isn’t naive.
When she made the decision to set up a discord server for her plant vlog’s followers, she knew there was a possibility things might get messy. After all, even while remaining anonymous — she can practically hear her PR team screaming at the idea of Lena Luthor running her own verified social media account — her comment section has always been 45% earnest compliments and questions from beginner botanists and 55% unabashed thirst over her sexy hands and soothing voice. Lena imagined any possible frustration caused by having to sidestep the occasional untoward overture would be worth the satisfaction she gets from teaching fellow hobbyists to take better care of their plants. It’s nice to feel like she’s being appreciated, for a change, to be allowed to play hero in a small way, different from L-Corp’s high-stakes idealism or Supergirl’s histrionic stunts.
(She still hasn’t managed to set up a meeting with National City’s super-powered alien in residence, but she’s certain it will be any day now.)
Lena couldn’t have predicted that the most aggravating individual on her server wouldn’t turn out to be a persistent suitor, but rather a member of the plant-loving minority.
If the violence this ‘Kvers’ person routinely inflicts on their houseplants can be considered love.
Why are my plant’s leaves yellowing? had been this idiot’s first, innocuous ask. Moments later, they’d followed it up with a picture of the brown, crisp remains of what Lena had only vaguely recognized must at one point have been a vibrant green ZZ plant.
Because it’s fucking dead, Lena had wanted to reply, suggesting instead Is it possible it’s near a window where it gets too much direct light?
My place does get a good amount of sun, Kvers had responded. I kind of prefer it that way. Lena had given her a list of plants that would fare better in those conditions, and hoped that would be that.
But it didn't end there; it’s actually only gotten worse. Kvers is in Lena’s notifications what feels like every other day now with fresh doubts and queries. Why do you even have plants, Lena is tempted to respond half the time, when it’s obvious you’re too much of a moron to even be trusted to take care of yourself?
Are banana plants supposed to tear this easily? comes the next question, combined with a picture of a Dwarf Cavendish that looks to have been ripped to shreds by a wind stronger than the average tornado.
“What the fuck,” Lena mumbles to herself. Some tearing is to be expected, they’re pretty frail, she replies, before snapping and adding I advise placing it a little further away from that jet engine you must have set up in your living room, however in a disgruntled huff.
Kvers sends her only a 😳 in response.
A fresh victim is presented to her a few days later, along with Kvers’s desperate plea of Can this little guy still be saved?
Pictured is the saddest Boston fern Lena has seen in her entire life: it’s bruised grey-brown and beige where it should be a vivid emerald, and when Lena clicks the image to enlarge, she finds herself frowning at what looks like a dusting of frost still clinging to the fronds.
Ferns can recover from freezing conditions but only if their roots weren’t also affected, Lena replies very professionally, her fingers shaking with silent outrage. Though I don’t understand why you’d keep a potted fern outdoors when it’s that cold. She’s beginning to wonder if this Kvers person is a genuine imbecile or an abusive prankster. Where do you live that you’re dealing with these weather conditions in August? she demands.
Oh, um, Kvers replies and then, after a few starts and stops, Southern California.
So Kvers is absolutely fucking with her.
It takes a week before they’re asking for Lena’s input again. This buddy is looking a little rough today, they post, do you think a good soak could help perk it back up?
The miserable money tree pictured is barely clinging to life. Lena peers through the furious red haze descending over her vision and swears it looks like its few remaining leaves are singed.
Lena’s patience has run out. Are you serious? she asks. Did someone burn your building down?
Small kitchen accident Kvers has the audacity to reply.
It’s the final straw in every sense of the word. Lena will not stand for this blatant abuse a moment longer, especially if it’s done exclusively for the purpose of getting her attention. Before she can think too much about it, before her rage recedes, she sends Kvers a direct message announcing she’s coming by for a home consultation.
Where in SoCal are you exactly?
As it turns out, Kvers is right here, in National City.
She’s also a bafflingly attractive — though fidgety — blonde.
Blue eyes widen and pink lips part when she answers the door, her shoulders so broad and her arms so beefy she takes up most of the space in the doorway to her loft. Lena probably wouldn’t be able to see past her, at her endangered plants beyond, if she still wanted to.
But she can tell her loft is well-lit, like she’d mentioned — she’s framed by the sun’s dying rays, her hair and skin golden and shimmering in a way not entirely of this earth.
This explains so much, Lena realizes, relieved. The wind. The frost. The burns.
Her would-be adversary is wearing glasses and her hair is up, and her flustered demeanor seems so awkwardly genuine that Lena wonders if the image this woman projects when she’s dressed in her more familiar reds and blues is the act — if this awestruck, faded-jeans-clad cutie is the real person that’s hiding underneath.
She looks far more human than Lena would have imagined.
“You’re Lena Luthor,” she finally manages to stutter out.
Lena regards her evenly. “Good to finally meet you,” she says, and, dropping her voice a little, “Supergirl.”
