*jumps*

A college au where Lena does the unthinkable: she forgets about her chemistry lab. Now Lena never misses a lab. She’s never even late to class. So when her lab partner calls her, asking where she is, her heart drops. She’d forgotten it’s Wednesday. How could she forget it’s Wednesday?

A glance at her watch tells her that she has approximately 10 minutes before she’s actually late, which is plenty of time to get two buildings over to the lab space.

The only minor snag is, well… lab dress code. Normally, that would never be an issue. She always keeps a spare pair of safety goggles in her bag, and she’d never deign to wear something like shorts or sandals to attend classes, like some of her peers.

But… some days, she’s just stayed up far too late studying. Some days, she’s barely staying upright by coffee and willpower alone, and she’s so tired that she couldn’t even be bothered to put her contacts in before classes. On those days, she’s willing to make a minor exception to her usually immaculate state of dress.

With her biomedical engineering midterm fast approaching, today happens to be one of those days. The skin tight leggings that she threw on before sleepily rushing out the door that morning mock her with the way that they cling. Honestly it’s not as if she planned to spill corrosives on herself, but she knows for a fact Dr. Kord wouldn’t allow her to walk through the door in such “lab inappropriate apparel.”

Ugh. At least, the tennis shoes she threw on are close-toed. She’ll figure something out.

And as she scurries through the chemistry halls towards the lab, that something presents itself.

She catches site of a blond girl in comfy looking NCU sweat pants heading into the restroom just around the corner from her destination. And really, she can’t believe she’s doing this, but her options are limited. So she looks the girl dead in the eye through the mirror and steels herself, as she firmly states, “I need your pants.”

“You… what?” her bewilderment is evident in her reflection.

“Your pants. I need them,” Lena repeats to the stranger, raising her chin, as if this isn’t the strangest request (read: demand) she’s ever made.

The blond turns around to face her, spluttering as she pulls at the straps of her backpack. She eyes the door behind Lena momentarily, before asking, “Why?”

Lena sighs, “Chemistry lab,” and glances down at her watch, a frown growing. “In two and a half minutes. And I… well…” She gestures down at her legs, sheepishly. “I forgot.”

Her eyes lock again with the blond’s and she momentarily forgets her fluster in realization that, behind dark-framed glasses, they’re a vibrant shade of blue. And determined, too.

Determined enough to usher Lena into a stall, and without a word, she heads into the adjacent one. A pair of sweats are flopped over the dividing wall for Lena to grab, and as she strips off her leggings to pull on the sweat pants, she notices the name ‘Danvers’ running down the thigh. It seems oddly familiar, but—

“So how long is this lab?” the girl in the next stall asks.

“Four hours.” The splutter from next door tells Lena that maybe this ‘Danvers’ didn’t necessarily think this through.

“Four hours?! Am I supposed to just… hang out here, pants-less, that whole time?”

And, oh, that finally breaks through Lena’s stress and embarrassment. “Of course not.” Laughing, she tosses her leggings over wall, and exits her stall to the sound of shuffling.

“Thanks for this, by the way,” Lena says as she digs for her goggles in her bag. “I really owe you.”

“It’s no problem,” the voice behind her says as the stall door swings open. “It may be one of the weirder things to happen to me, but definitely not the weirdest.”

Lena goes to laugh at that, but the sound dies in her throat and her mouth goes dry as she takes in the reflection of incredibly fit and well-muscled legs shifting under the tight material of her leggings. She has to swallow a deep breath and blink hard to recalibrate her mind.

But the girl immediately decimates the progress by twisting to get a view of her ass in the tight spandex, giving Lena a rather favorable view in the process.

“Don’t look too terrible, do they?” she asks with a grin.

“No.” Lena’s voice comes out strangled, and she looks away, clearing her throat before trying again. “No, definitely not.”

Looking for anywhere to place her eyes that isn’t on her savior’s well-defined (and now prominently-displayed) ass, Lena glances at her watch again.

Fuck.

“I should—“ Lena starts, gesturing to the door.

“Yeah,” the girl agrees, shuffling her feet and scratching at the back of her neck. And was that a faint blush Lena spied on her cheeks?

“I’ll, uh, get these back to—“

“No worries. Go, we’ll figure something—“

“—Yeah.”

They both pause, just gazing at each other for a moment, when Lena’s phone rings.

“Lena, where are you?!” a voice calls from the phone speaker.

Lena flashes the blond a last smile and a little wave, as she says, “I’m just around the corner, Jack. I’ll be right—“

She runs straight into her lab partner, who steadies her as she stumbles. “—there.”

“Thank god. You made it. I was worried I’d have to pair up with that moronic—“ Jack’s voice trailed off as he stared at her, mouth agape. “Are you… Why are you wearing Kara’s sweats?”

“Who?” Lena’s brows furrow.

“Kara. Kara Danvers. NCU’s star soccer player? She as in that game Sam dragged us to.” A smug grin spreads across Jack’s face. “I knew it! I knew you were lusting over her! You spent the whole time staring.”

Danvers. That’s why the name sounded familiar. And, now that she thought about it, the face too, though she hadn’t worn those glasses that hid half her face during the game.

“God, I can’t believe you’re sleeping with Kara Danvers. I can’t wait to tell Sam.” Jack sounded far too gleeful about the whole situation.

“We’re— I’m… I’m not— We’re not—“ Lena struggles to get any words out to explain the situation. But images of the blond… Kara… in her leggings spring to life in her mind, and Lena quickly realizes she wouldn’t be opposed to it being true.

“Lena. Darling. You got in her pants. Literally.” Jack smirks, and a blushing Lena just shoves him towards the door.

“Just get in the fucking lab.”

Lena Luthor 6x13

SuperCorp endgame

Lena Luthor

The Crain Kids + smiles

ice give us soooo much evidence

- THE LIVE

- Her faces during the lebron live when Paige went over Azzi

- the live with Ayanna where she whispers “ice can’t go live when Paige and Azzi are near” and Ayanna’s eyes get huge

- Ice saying JEALOUS

- Ice saying “yall didn’t see anything, Paige and Azzi who” after THE live

they be exposing them the mosttt

That one scene that broke me but then again the entire fic broke me

Breathe by @searidings

(through gritted teeth) i love being out of my comfort zone it is necessary for my personal development

It's everybody's fault and nobody's fault. If we want to look at this tournament from a objective and rational point of view, we probably should say that this team arrived unprepared, those players didn't just forget how to be the fucking best in the world in 2 years, they just hadn't been prepared to face the development many teams actually had. They knew USWNT, USWNT didn't know them. Many players surely underperformed, in particular in my opinion Megan Rapinoe, Abby Dahlkemper, Sam Mewis and today Rose Lavelle too, while others I think didn't even have the chance to find a continuity. Tobin Heath never played winger or any kind of attacking role, she wasn't perfect but she was everywhere trying to cover all the holes on the field. And you can't sacrifice Tobin Heath as a damned martyr like this after an injury. Christen Press should have been THE leader of the offense line and she almost never played 90 minutes, and never with the same people. Alex Morgan paradoxically almost played better for Orlando Pride, with more runs and more movement, she just waited there. But just like Press she didn't even have consistency. Carli Lloyd was just at the finish line.

I don't understand the tactics. I tried to. I tried to imagine some greater plan, I thought they could find themselves again soon enough to turn this tournament around but they couldn't. And they couldn't also because sadly Vlatko didn't know how to manage this group. The way he changed every single line-up (I know turn-over is vital when you play every 2/3 days but you also need stability), they way he handled substitutions, changing all together the forwards and never giving a chance to create something stable with Tobin & Christen on the wings and Carli/Alex in the middle was absolutely absurd to me. He brought Macario, he could have used her as a wild card, she could have helped the midfield having more depth and freeing Tobin but he never considered the option. It was too wrong.

And beyond everything, it's absolutely not a ONE player's fault. Not Tierna's, certainly not AD's, not Rapinoe's and not Tobin's (definitely not Tobin's), they won together, they lost together.

But after all of this, the thing I can't get over is that THIS TEAM deserved better and despite everything, I'm still damn proud of them. The USWNT taught me a LOT, they showed me another way to love and live football, they showed me how football could actually be a mean and not only an end, they forged women's football more and better than anyone else and I can't stand seeing how all the world was just waiting for them to fall.

Many times I don't agree with Carli Lloyd, I don't share her opinions and I don't like her thoughts. But seeing her today sprinting by herself after the game and sobbing after the end was just heartbreaking because it was like seeing a pillar falling down. Seeing Rapinoe crying and maybe realizing that her and Carli's time is over was unbearable. Seeing Lindsey seeking comfort in Tobin and Christen's arms was just terrible.

USWNT has a new era in front of them, an era that needs to begin with new forces and still some veterans, but an era of change inevitably. But I want this team to be remembered just like the 99ers because what they did for women's football is just as much remarkable and groundbreaking.

Personally I have to admit that I just hope Tobin Heath will play at least for another World Cup, I believe she has it in her but I don't know if she wants to. She isn't scared of retirement but I am. She meant too much.

And in the end, I'm not even American but this team is one of the things I feel most close to me in my life. So today we face the loss, tomorrow we go after the bronze medal and the day after that we start again and we work to show the world who the fucking champions are.

“And when you told me what your favorite book was, I bought it and read it over and over… trying to find pieces of you in it.”

— Unknown