#Louise-L

[orange-s-mario]

SUPERGIRLS

Super-Girl

A superheroine wished into existence by Jimmy Olsen

2. Queen Lucy of Borgonia

the queen of a fictional latin american country named Borgonia. She became queen because her parents died, and a Count named Norvello, kept her hidden from the public, in the hopes that she wouldn't steal the hearts of her citizens and allow him to quietly rule the country with an iron fist.

3. Linda Lee Danvers/Kara Zor-El (Earth-One)

The original that sacrificed herself to save the multiverse/remaining people of the surviving universes. She was brought back in "Many Happy Returns" but then goes back to original Earth-One. I think she's now alive somewhere because of convergence??? She also showed up as Linda Danvers's guardian angel and visited Deadman on Christmas. She's met the original legion

4. Ellie Leeds

She was the first to discover Supergirl's arrival, but was exposed to X-Kryptonite and fell into a coma. When she awoke years later - after a chance meeting with Supergirl - she started exhibiting Supergirl's powers, and also believed she was the Girl of Steel.

5. Louise-L

the Supergirl of the 5020th Century; She traveled back in time, to prevent the goals of some villains named Toxus and Tal Belok

6. Matrix/Mae Kent

Matrix, a protoplasmic creation of an alternate universe Lex Luthor. She's met the reboot legion

6/7. Earth-Angel of Fire Supergirl

Linda Danvers, who fused with Matrix to become an Earth-Angel

7. Linda Danvers

Linda and Matrix unfuse and Linda goes on an adventure to find Matrix. I think she's met one of the legions?

8. Ariella Kent

Linda Danvers's daughter who was saved from the pre-crisis multiverse, and now exists in the future. She has pre-crisis kryptonian level powers

9. Cir-El

thought to be Superman's daughter from the future, but was actually a personality grafted onto a separate person made by a future version of Brainiac to ensure that version's existence

10. Linda Lang/Kara Zor-El

The Post-Crisis version of Supergirl, I think much of the weirdness in her origin was because of Kryptonite poisoning? She's met threeboot legion

11. Kara Zor-El/Kara Danvers

The New 52 and onwards version of Kara Zor-El Supergirl, they showed much more of Argo's history in this version

12. Kara Zor-El/Karen Starr, First Supergirl, later Power Girl

The New 52 Earth 2 version of Karen Starr, she has a similar origin to post-crisis and new 52 Supergirl where Superman grew up before she arrived on Earth, but like Earth-Two, the Superman and Lois of her world basically adopted her. She became Power Girl due to getting stranded on Earth 0

Karas

See Linda Lee Danvers

Kara Zor-L/Karen Starr (Earth-Two)

(*sigh* also known as Paige Stetler) from Earth-Two, second Kara introduced, for a time, she was Atlantean. She is the only survivor of Earth-Two, except something something convergence :

3. Kara from Superman/Aliens

The third Kara introduced, she is from a space colony named Argo (not the Kryptonian City, but instead from a planet named Odiline) that got destroyed by Xenomorphs, She and Superman tried to save the last Argonians, but they failed

4. See Kara Zor-El/Linda Lang

5. Kara Zor-L/Karen Starr (Earth 2) (Post-Infinite Crisis)

A Power Girl from Earth 2, which seems to be a universe much in-line with Earth-Two, although there are differences here and there

6. See Kara Zor-El/Kara Danvers

7. See Kara Zor-El/Karen Starr

Honorable Mention Kara (She hasn't interacted with main continuity): Kara In-Ze

the DCAU version of Supergirl. She comes from Krypton's sister planet named "Argo," she was adopted by the Kents, but then decided to stay in the future in the legion

Laurel Kent, despite not being here for Supergirl or Kara reasons, she is here due to Supergirl and the legion

She was initially introduced as Clark's descendant. For some reason, despite being in the future, Legion of Superheroes had tie-ins for event annuals. Superman editorial (presumably because of Byrne) wanted to get rid of all kryptonians, so guess what happens during Millenium:

anyways. the reason she is on this post:

Andromedas

Laurel Gand/(was called Andromeda pre-5YL) (5 Years Later)

Due to editorial mandates, Kara was erased from the legion's history. Laurel Gand, a distant relative of Lar Gand takes her place. She basically has the same history as Kara except Khunds keep on trying to kill Daxamites

1.5/2. Laurel Gand/Andromeda (SW6)

A time paradox duplicate of Laurel Gand.

3. Laurel Gand (Earth-247)

She's a literal xenophobe now. She gets better and becomes a nun to atone

Misc?

Sensor Girl

(so she doesn't actually count, but it was noticeable enough to mention)

Lesla-Lar

Lesla-Lar was a kandorian scientist, who was an orphan that took the last name of her best friend Zora Vi-Lar. She was killed by phantom zone criminals she released, but then became a ghost where she still troubled Supergirl. Her initial plan was to replace Kara as Supergirl Also Lana Lang with a helmet

The helmet supposedly gives superpowers to those who wield it - but it does not. Superboy tricks Lana into thinking it does due to Clark wearing the helmet while bullets bounced off of him

[drawthething]

"Get your waterballoons ready, we're going to war" 👊🍔

I know I said I was gonna draw them muppets for this one but I got bored so I tried something else (with precious lil bean mouths 🥳)

[derangedrhythms]

Louise Glück, The Seven Ages; from ‘From a Journal’

TEXT ID: I wanted you to fall in love. But the arrow kept hitting the mirror and coming back.

[cloudgirlsinfo]

LOUISE L

[nope-nora]

an ode to summer

Lorde, “Solar Power” | Ocean Vuong, “Because It’s Summer” | J. L. Carr, A Month In The Country | Taylor Swift for 1989 (Taylor’s Version) | Caleb Azumah Nelson, Open Water | Louise Glück, “Heaven and Earth” | Mary Oliver, “The Pond” | Julia Quinn, Romancing Mister Bridgerton | @butterfly

[mndvx]

LOCKWOOD & CO. — Not The Eternal (S01E08) ››› Ruby Stokes as Lucy Carlyle ››› Ali Hadji-Heshmati as George Karim ››› Louise Brealey as Pamela Joplin

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls: Season 3/Ep 7: They Shoot Gilmores Don't They (Henceforth known as Dance Marathon Episode)

Original Air Date: Nov 12th 2002 This is tied with Lorelai Graduation's Day as my favorite episode, so let us begin.

"Charity". All proceeds go into Taylor Doose's pocket. We'll be getting into that shortly (again).

Heh heh. Lorelai tells a ridiculous story about how she didn't win the trophy at the previous DM. Luke declines her invitation to be her dance partner.

Thank you Luke.

THANK YOU LUKE. Allow me to put this into further perspective. *clears throat* *gets up on Bridge Rage soapbox* SO ABOUT THAT BRIDGE...

From the season 7 episode Knit, People, Knit, original air date 11/26/2006. Dance Marathon aired in November 2002. If fundraising had already been ongoing for 8 years by 2002, that means bridge repair began in 1994 and was ongoing in 2006. Therefore, one can deduce it will take a minimum of 12 years for Taylor Doose to replace a few planks of wood on a tiny bridge. Despite there being visible evidence that said bridge is still not repaired after 12 years, Luke is the only person who ever dares to question this. I'm not sure if the last plank of wood was finally paid for in KPK, I can only stick around in Seasons 6 & 7 for a few minutes at a time or I start to break out in hives and no intrepid scientist has invented a Later Seasons Gilmore Girls Vaccine yet. I get my screengrabs and get the hell out. Taylor: We're not raising money to restore the bridge. Luke: We're not? Taylor: No, we have that money, our Tennesee Williams Lookalike Contest put us over the top. This is for a tarp to cover the bridge. We can't start repair on the bridge now at the start of snow and rain season. The work will be ruined and we'll be back at square one. We need a tarp! Luke: Taylor you are asking me to donate free coffee to hundreds of people so you can raise money for a tarp! You know what, this episode is about a dance marathon and Shane Campbell's untimely demise, not political corruption in small town america and Taylor Doose's obsession with a Broken Bridge and how he's funneling town funds into his offshore bank account so he can use the money to take vacations to Maui and then tell the IRS they're just "business trips" for the Small Town Grocery Store Owners Convention. Carry on.

Lorelai managed to snag a dance partner named Stanley Appleman but she quickly loses him after his wife sees a picture of Lorelai and Mrs.A deems Lorelai too sexy to dance with her husband.

Now when has a Gilmore ever slept with someone else's husband? Where would she get such a crazy idea? Pshaw.

I was about to blast past whatever Newspaper Nonsense was about to take place next but then I noticed the background of this shot. Madelyn and Louise my slutty queens! Since Shane's demise is imminnent, going forth they will carry the slutty torch in her honor.

Jamie is about as tittilating as mayonaise on toast. Jamie will henceforth be named Mayonaise. Jaym-onaise?

Rory is right there, Paris. She’s right there. Urrgh. Why must we pretend Paris Geller is straight? Mayonaise was too busy with dullard business at Princeton for the last 3 months to contact Paris, but now he has some free time so he thought’d he come hang around at a high school with a bunch of minors.

Paris Geller's fragile remnants of heterosexuality are shaking in their boots looking at this face. I’m trying to forget that it only gets worse from here and Paris' next love interest is Asher Fleming 🤢You know what it’s fine it’s fine Jaymonaise can stick around it’s fine

SECURITY!

I thought about this weird and clunky "go find a pirate to sit on" long and hard until I think I figured out what the hell she's trying to say.: "Pirates sometimes have hooks for hands, so if you sit on a pirate's hand maybe the hook will go up your ass." That is WILD. She can't say "let go of my fucking hand you knob" on The WB, so "find a pirate to sit on" it is. Paris would say "Let go of my fucking hand you knob" on my gritty unrated realistic Gilmore Girls spinoff with a lot of swearing called The Hollow. And then immediately turn to Rory and make out with her.

Paris is hesitant to go on another date with Mayonaise, so Rory plays wingman and declares that Paris is free to go on a date, Mayonaise says we're going on a date, then Mayonaise steals her books and runs away with them, leaving Paris bewildered with the smell of "only vague consent" lingering in the air.

Dean's one brain cell is either deep in thought or he's about to soil his diaper. I'm very sorry. I'm glad someone in the Gilmore household decided Dean doesn't deserve a plate to eat from. He can eat his pizza on a napkin on top of a limp throw pillow balanced on one knee like the animal he is. What's with this show and wooden bowls full of walnuts?

According to Lane, Dean is deathly allergic to walnuts. *scooches bowl closer to the couch*

Can you even ask any other kind of question?

Can we go back to doing this, as well as going back to feeding him walnut-laced cookies? D: When did you hang up on me? R: When we first met. D:You should have said something. R: But you would have known that I was calling and therefore I liked you. D: But I liked you too! R:I know that now. D: You could have known that then... Hey, can you two shut the god damn hell up? Both of you stay the hell away from phones and answering machines for the next 15 years. Thanks.

Better declare your love quickly before he gets sucked up by the Male Gilmore Girls Character California Wormhole.

Good boy. #CaptionsFail

Dean came prepared with a pillow shield so Lorelai can't grope for his junk.

You're just a boy, you know nothing. But I'll make you a man, Dean. Just toss that pillow aside.

[sangatsu-usagi]

Maria Louise Kirk (1860-1938)

Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There, 1905

[calvinandhobbes]

— snow and dirty rain, richard siken

[weirdlookindog]

Blood Is My Heritage (Blood of Dracula, 1957) - British Quad

[subconsciouslyiam]

Be The Person You Want To Become

To “be the person you want to become” means embodying the qualities, values, and behaviors that align with your ideal self. It involves intentional actions and choices that reflect the person you aspire to be. This process requires self-awareness to identify your desired characteristics and a commitment to consistently live in accordance with them. Embracing personal growth, cultivating positive…

[lvrsparadise]

i <3 TV Girl

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

If you don’t mind writing angst or sad right now, how about a snippet from when Holly loses the rest of her Rotwell team. :))

Holly Louise Munro is sixteen years old and doesn't think she's going to make it to seventeen. Plenty of psychic agents don't, after all. And this window isn't a very good reassurance.

The night started ordinarily enough. The case was somewhat routine, disturbances and disruptions that her team was sent to investigate and mitigate. Most poltergeists don't make a habit of violently hurling knives the instant the sun goes down, though. Most wait, most build up to full attacks, most don't do this-

Holly has to remind herself to breathe, but not too loudly. It's only barely one in the morning, still comparatively early in a usual worknight. If she breathes too loudly, or moves too much, or panics, the Visitor will hear her, or sense her, or notice her, and she can't have that. She has to file a report, it's only proper procedure, she has to- She has to tell their families.

Arthur was the first to be killed. Holly was in the kitchen prepping tea, quickly and clipped and just the way she always does, while the other three made their rounds, set up chains, laid iron filings. Arthur, a supervisor around her height with a face full of freckles, stopped into the kitchen to check in with her. Holly's head was ducked, not looking his direction even though she heard him coming with his cheerful, "Oy, Munro-". The instant he poked his head of tousled ginger hair around the entrance to the kitchen, a knife flew through the air and stabbed into his neck, all but pinning him to the wall of the hallway behind him.

Holly's head had whipped up at the grisly thunk, in just enough time to see the light go out of his eyes. Her mind was utterly blank for far too long, and it was the first time she had to remind herself to breathe that night. The blank look in Arthur's eyes, the knife protruding from his windpipe and the thin trickles of blood falling down around it, are seared into her memory. She'll never forget that.

Selfishly, she'll hate herself for it later and has already kind of started, her first thought is it's in here with me. It's fuzzy and slow, the realization, but it sticks in her head anyway. She puts a hand on her rapier, tries to remember where she'd seen the knife block sitting on the counter before the sun set, and thanks God above for the gift of shock.

Poltergeists are drawn to strong emotion. If she were feeling anything in particular at the moment, she would easily become the next victim. She'd never seen a Visitor become so violent so quickly before coming to Cotton Street. There isn't an iron circle in the kitchen. They hadn't thought there was enough space or need.

"Brenton," Holly calls as loudly as she dares, "Christa," and the other two members of her team hadn't responded. Brenton refused to go by his first name, and Christa was barely fourteen years old. Arthur had loved caramelized biscuits. He'd probably been coming to beg some from her when he was killed.

For the longest time, Holly stood stock still in the cramped kitchen of a home on Cotton Street with the body of one her supervisor, who loved caramelized biscuits and earl grey tea and had too-long ginger hair that stuck up every which way and freckles almost as dark as Holly's own skin, and all she could think of was lists of details of these children she works with. Children who likely won't see another birthday. Children sent to die in a home on Cotton Street.

All she could think was that Christa's favorite color is green and she'd had strawberry cake from a storebought boxed mix that she'd made herself for her birthday last week even though Holly had offered to bake something, and that she'd worn non-regulation platform boots to make herself look taller, and her wispy blonde hair fell in front of her eyes like mare's-tail clouds. All Holly could think is that it took her six months to find out Brenton's first name, Augustin, and that he'd been named for a Saint who preached unity even though the boy himself picked more fights on sillier grounds than anyone Holly had ever met, even all her aunts and uncles at family reunions when she was very little, and that she brought chamomile tea along even though it wasn't a standard because she knew he had anxiety and it helped to calm his nerves. And that these were the children Holly now had responsibility for, as the oldest of them, and who she can't save from this.

"Christa," she tries again. "Brenton!" Her voice is getting more shrill, she knows it, can feel it trembling in her jawbone. All of a sudden she wants to cry. She's only sixteen. She's more of an adult than any of them, but she's not, not really. She just has to be. She has to be the adult, because that's what would keep them alive. They needed her. "I need you!"

"Alright, Holly?" Came one high, airy little voice, and if Holly hadn't choked out the tiniest little sob as she dares to step out into the hallway, closer to Arthur's body but father from the knife block which she remembers now is sitting under the tiny square window with curtains she had thought earlier were pretty, with embroidered daisies and dandelions, she's a liar.

"Christa, come here right now," Holly says. "Rapier out." A rapier won't do much good against a Visitor with no corporeal form, but she isn't going to tell the other girl that. The key right then was to stay calm, to hold themselves together to hopefully keep them alive. "Was Brenton with you?" She asks, stepping out to meet Christa and keep her from seeing Arthur with a knife in his neck. They see so much in this job, but she can try to protect the littler girl from this much.

Christa shakes her head. "He was in the bedroom."

Holly nods, shouts Brenton's name again, and stiffens when she hears rattling from behind them. She doesn't dare turn around to look back toward the kitchen, but she would have and did bet her life that the knives were moving, slipping from their slots and drawers and Arthur's throat. She takes Christa by the shoulders, bends to look her in the eye because even platform boots can't make a little girl big all at once.

"Go find him and get into your chain circle. That's what he was doing, right?" When Christa nods, Holly continues. "Go tell him I said to get in the chains, right now. stay there until I say so." For the first time, fear shows in Christa's eyes. For the first time, she looks back over Holly's shoulder. She gasps and goes even paler than usual and starts to tremble in Holly's hands. "Don't look," Holly says. "Go. I'll be right behind you."

"Do you promise?" Christa asks. And Holly, trying to be the adult, trying to remind herself to breathe, nods once and firmly.

"I promise." She pushes Christa toward the bedroom, toward hopefully safety. The girl doesn't look back. She was always whip-smart, Holly can tell her parents that, always did the inventory twice as well as anyone and enjoyed the mathematics and memorized the regulations, knew what to do if she had to go off-book, too.

She was so, so bright and had mare's-tail hair and she had trusted Holly so completely that when she picked up her pace and started running on her size four platform combat boots, Holly truly thought she'd be safe in the chain circle with Brenton in only a few seconds. She hoped it, believed it so much that she turned away to return, steeling herself metaphorically and literally, to the kitchen where her bag was.

She had flares, salt bombs, precious senses of safety in there. Quickly, clipped, she collected her things, strapped extras onto her body, stared at the knives hovering just above their places in the knife block. It wasn't attacking her right now. It couldn't, of course, because it's focus was on the tiny girl down the hall. The thud sent chills through Holly, the sudden ice cold that comes with being pierced through with abject terror.

Dropping her bag, she'd run toward the sound, and come to a desperate halt when she saw the knife, the same one that had sliced through Arthur's windpipe, embedded between Christa's shoulderblades. It must have severed her spine in just the right place, because she's dead by the time Holly tries to find her pulse. She thinks, and will continue to think, that it's a mercy. Still, tears come to her eyes and she's forced to blink them away, keep breathing, keep breathing, when Brenton appears, sweaty and shocked.

"Munro?" He says weakly. She shakes her head.

"Go," she hisses, and hears metal rattling ominously. "Get in the circle," she cries, standing to her feet and running to push him ahead of her. "It's a Poltergeist," she explains hastily, shoving him roughly into the bedroom where a wide circle of chain sits in the clear space between the bed beside the door and the window at the far wall of the room. "Get in-"

She flinches, drops her grip on Brenton's arm and covers her head in fear when something shiny flashes in the corner of her eye. She doesn't know what it is, but this Visitor's hallmark is metal things, harmless metals like copper and composites free of iron or silver, cheap faux silverware and bargain jewelry.

It's an ornamental gold pocketknife and a hatpin this time, that do sweet terrified Brenton in. The knife is just large enough that she can see it sticking out of his stomach, the hatpin embedded in between two of his ribs, probably puncturing a lung. She whimpers a small, useless "No!" as Brenton crumples to the floor just outside the chain. She blinks hard and fights back tears once more, struggles to breathe even shallow shaky breaths, and clings to the small sweaty hand he holds out.

"The circle," Brenton wheezes, moving his arm like he's trying to push her into it. Almost robotically, she crawls across the chain, into the protective circle, but never let's go of Brenton as she does.

"It's going to be okay," she whispers uselessly, "You're going to be fine."

Brenton stared at her, hopefully in too much shock to feel the pain as he had bled slowly out against a chest of drawers. His eyes were wide and green and every part of him was trembling. His breaths were strained and labored and Holly knew, the whole time, that she was lying to him. He was dying right in front of her. Her whole team was dead or dying. They were just children.

Brenton fumbled with her hand, his palm slipping. Something thunked into a wall outside in the hall. "I'm scared, Hol, I'm so scared, please, Holly-"

"I've got you," she told him, "It's alright, August, I'm here, I'll-" She couldn't say protect you. She's already failed at that. "It's alright. I've got you." She says it over and over, until internal bleeding or a collapsed lung takes the light from his eyes. She keeps saying it even after he's dead as if that can bring him back or make it true.

She keeps saying it for so long that she doesn't realize at first how loud the rattling throughout the house is. Drawers are shaking, items that aren't shiny or sharp now threatening at every angle. There is a trail of Holly's dead teammates leading to this room, and there's next to no good way to fight a Poltergeist this strong. Holly is completely alone except for a thing that wants to kill her and will probably succeed, and she has to remind herself to keep breathing.

The window is her only chance. It's a second floor, but she can probably survive that. The odds are better than staying here through the night, rapier useless and team dead around her. She thinks she's going to be sick. She thinks there's almost no point. If the fall doesn't kill her she'll still be alone til morning.

She gives up on the chains and finds herself pressed against the wall beneath the window, shaking. A drawer flies open in the bedside table and a desperate sob rips out of her. She can't time it properly, can't see the Visitor's approach as it comes to take her life. She forces herself to breathe once, twice, and then turns, scrabbles at the window latch and throws it open. It screeches with disuse, takes all her shaky strength to pry it open and lift it wide enough to get out, and she almost falls headfirst when she manages it.

The noise in the house builds to a fever pitch as Holly rolls out of the window, finds herself on a tile roof, and keeps sliding. The impact when she hits brick, a chimney, will leave her with bruises and a single broken rib. She can still hear the rattling and pounding inside the Cotton Street flat, can see all three of her teammates lying dead inside. For the first time since the sun went down, she doesn't have to force herself to breathe.

When they find her in the morning, the flat's owner and DEPRAC and a Rotwell department head, still lying against the chimney barely aware of the world around her, she's cried herself out. She's dehydrated and exhausted, but there's no more rattling inside the house. She'd cried for hours, rattling sobs wrenching out of her, in the dark against that chimney. It was loud and ragged and she doesn't know how none of the neighbors heard her. She cried so hard her head hurt and she couldn't even speak to explain what happened to her for nearly a full day.

The scene inside the flat had spoken for itself, though. Holly was the sole survivor, of course. And she got to see her seventeenth birthday, not that it mattered much. She was taken off of active duty, assigned a desk and inventory and peperwork that she did twice as well as anyone else in honor of Christa Wells, who didn't live to see fifteen. She drinks chamomile tea when her hands shake because she remembers how scared Augustin Brenton was when he died, and she keeps a pack of caramelized biscuits in a well-oiled drawer in her desk because she sometimes still expects Arthur O'Connor to come by and ask if she has any.

She is very good at her job, no matter how angry she finds herself at the adults, real adults, who so fail the children in their care and instead leave the children to each other. Even in that, she finds herself numb more often than not and wonders if this is what it's like for Visitors. She doesn't know why she survived and they didn't. She doesn't know why she's alive, or how to be.

Holly has to remind herself to breathe sometimes.

[derangedrhythms]

Love, you ever want me, don’t.

Louise Glück, Firstborn; from ‘Hesitate to Call’

[cloudgirlsinfo]

LOUISE L

[chdmeeksmartins]

the gang’s kids, in the au no one asked for, on film/polaroids throughout the years…

Elizabeth “Betsy” Victoria Kelso. Born January 15, 1979. ENFP. Enneagram 3w2. FC: Minka Kelly.

Louise Madeline Kelso. Born November 8th, 1984. ESFP. Enneagram 7w8. FC: Zoey Deutch.

Allison Katherine Forman. Born December 13th, 1986. INFJ. Enneagram 1w2. FC: Olivia Cooke.

Grace Nicole Forman. Born June 4th, 1989. ENFP. Enneagram 2w3. FC: Sarah Hyland.

John “Jay” Cameron Kelso. Born August 3rd, 1989. ISFP. Enneagram 9w8. FC: Ross Lynch.

Emma Jane Pinciotti. Born April 10th, 1990. ESFJ. Enneagram 4w3. FC: Sophie Turner.

Peyton Anna Hyde. Born May 13th, 1994. ESTP. Enneagram 8w9. FC: Madison Bailey.

Daniel Lucas Forman. Born September 10th, 1995. ISTP. Enneagram 5w6. FC: Jack Champion.

William “Will” James Hyde. Born January 26th, 1997. INTP. Enneagram 6w5. FC: Adrian Lyles.