#ohsprock

@ohsprock​ asked  : “ it’s alright… it’s okay… i’m here now. i’ve got you. ”  

Letting out a shuddering breath, one that she only barely possessed the energy to hold onto before it chattered out through her teeth, Alex anchored her fingers into the back of her sister’s cape - clad shoulders, hard as she could, and let her cling to her as tightly — bruisingly — as she knew she needed to in return.

Even with the yawning expanse of fathomless deep space looming in her field of view, with the fates of dozens of displaced aliens in her own useless hands, she’d known better than to ever doubt that Kara would see her safely back to Earth.  

Thanks to Kara, the frigate’s launch had been put to a stop faster than she’d blown out the steel supports of Lillian Luthor’s covert hideaway;   Thanks to Kara,  Alex had almost completely smothered the initial terror that’d flooded her veins with the long-enduring thought that touching the stratosphere meant next to nothing to a Kryptonian with the strength to guide an entire prison into outer space.  

Thanks to Kara, she knew with no ambiguity that someone would always be there to snatch her out of thin air, no matter how close she came to splattering on the ground.

‘ how’s my portrayal? ‘

how’s my portrayal

' 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴. '

@ohsprock​ asked:   “ we’re a team. remember? so let’s face this one together. ” / from nia!

With a heavy swallow, the lump that’d lodged itself in her throat all day obstinate against her best efforts to just breathe around it,  with Kara still gone,  Alex gave a nerveless nod.

“ I know, ”  she yielded.  Whatever void-like hell Kara had found herself in, however doomed the proposed mission to retrieve a DNA sample seemed, there was still a game plan in place  — albeit a fragile one.   But as innumerable days had rolled by without any real, tangible evidence that they were any closer to pinpointing the exact location of Kara’s whereabouts in the phantom zone, as time and patience and rationality itself seemed to slip away through Alex’s fingers, the hopelessness ( the self - blame, the restless self - reproach ) she’d tried to fight had only gained traction.

TEXT MESSAGE STARTERS

[    sms    >    kara    ]    :  does this look like two people who are drunk?  

sam wings an elbow to catch lena between the slots of her ribs  &  lifts the camera up to snap a selfie.  she thumbs it swiftly into the chat before she can think better of it. it’s a flashy night on the town in national city courtesy of l-corp’s latest coup over a competing subsidiary in metropolis.  &  now she  &  lena are happily in the middle of a bottle of deep, velvet red wine accompanied by two fine-stemmed glasses that cost more than sam’s beater of a first car.  

they’re not drunk but they’re loose, giddy at the victory  &  unfettered by responsibility for the first time in a long while.  but the happy stretch of their features is bright, blurry in the image,  &  it carries forward to sam’s broad, beaming grin.  

[    sms    >    kara    ]    : 

@ohsprock​ gets a starter for lillian! 

after more than two decades as a luthor, she ought to know better than to ask questions she doesn’t want the answer to. yet still, her heels clack down the hallway to the lab, long after jimmy falls asleep, stabilized and super-strong, to seek out her mother in her last hours of leave.

the sight of her mother in prison scrubs is becoming too uncomfortably familiar. unease still tumbles over and over in her belly, a writhing pile of serpents waiting to strike at her heart with one wrong word or disapproving glance.

but there’s a need in her bones that drives her forward, has her setting her purse on the bench and dropping her coat onto the back of the lab chair.

“i see you took the antidote,” she says, eyeing her mother before she crosses her arms, all too aware of the protective stance it gives her, but unable to force her arms out of their own hug.

“why?” she asks. “why couldn’t you say it before you had a truth-seeker latched on your arm?”

“ So quit it with the supersonic hearing, ”  Alex huffed out, the timbre of her rebuttal a weary whisper that, despite the muffled cacophony still coming from her pulled up headphone, mom would have stood next to no chance of hearing, even if she’d happened to pass by the other side of the door at that very moment.

Unbothered by the sudden rustle of Kara’s comforter, the accompanying mattress squeak that appended her Kryptonian roommate’s upright jolt from her side of the room, she simply threw up a hand in blasé and listless response.  So what?  Hadn’t she endured enough cheesy boyband caterwauling since Kara had learned of the varying genres of music on Earth?  

“ — It’s classic punk rock.  Look it up. ”