#no distractions

[socialbutterfly19]

Keep looking toward the goal. Keep what’s important in sight and don’t wonder off

[drones-of-innocence]

Every time Mario goes to rescue Princess Peach, and the journey takes more than a day, he finds himself pausing to stare up at a beautiful moon. The lands of the Mushroom Kingdom are stunning throughout his long travels. The night sky is spectacular. And the moon is such a gorgeous beacon up there, visible from every vantage point. He wonders, as he stares up at the moon, if she is looking at it, too. Even if they are apart, perhaps they unknowingly share this moment of reprieve. Gazing up at the stars together despite the distance between them.

Peeking outside her cell, taking in what little of the night sky she can see, perhaps Peach is wondering the same thing.

[mrsoulstice]

Mentally I’m here 🌅

[howifeltabouthim]

. . . but now nothing was adequate to distract her mind from its gloomy and disordered madness.

Anna Biller, from Bluebeard's Castle

[jujuistrulyoutrageous]

I went on a little mini writing retreat

I accidentally left my sleeping pad at home which meant I was sleeping on the hard plastic of the back of my Outback, which means I obviously slept like shit, but I had so much fun just being in nature and letting undistracted creativity take over

[gideonisms]

the quality of knifepoint horror is so variable but when it hits it hits and you have to respect the consistent format of some guy (different one every time) reading directly into the mic no background noise no intro no ads no promos for other stuff taking up half the feed. gives you exactly what you came for and nothing more or less. peace and love on planet earth

[timmurleyart]

Smush part 2. 🌧🚗✨🚗✨

[iriszocas]

To sit here and do nothing can't compare to sitting at a desk and working in your dream job.

My brain at midnight

[direwombat]

Hoping to finish drafting ch4 of katc this week so that I can spend some time fleshing out the next chapter when I go hiking on saturday

[socialbutterfly19]

Some won’t know

[writerystuff]

ONE WRITER'S PROCESS

“I used to have a little studio in Brooklyn, a couple of blocks from my house — no telephone, not much else. The only thing I ever did there was work. It was perfect. I was like a draft horse with a conditioned reflex. I came in ready to sit at my desk. No television, no way to call out. Didn’t want to be tempted. There’s an old Talmudic belief that you build a fence around an impulse. If that’s not good enough, you build a fence around the fence. So, no amenities. (But for a refrigerator!) I wrote longhand with a pencil and I gave it to my assistant, Judith McNally. She would type it for me and the next day I would go over it. Since at my age you begin to forget all too much, I would hardly remember what I had written the day before. It read, therefore, as if someone else had done it. The critic in me was delighted. I could now proceed to fix the prose. The sole virtue of losing your short-term memory is that it does free you to be your own editor.”

– Norman Mailer

[thevaldomarx2269]

Dear Valdo Marx, May I also join you in Cidaris? I believe my brother Lambert is already there. Maybe Letho fo Gulte too? I believe Gaetan is also on his way.

Eskel! It would be an honour. As I said, my invitation is open to anyone who finds themselves near my fair city.

Letho has reached out to me as well, yes. I do not know of a Gaetan. Another Witcher? I feel like the city will be protected beyond measure with all of you in one place. I shall inform the King.

Unfortunately, I've not heard from Lambert in some time. He went off on a contract I believe? I'm not privy to his every move. The fool's been pining over someone for a while now but too caught up in his own doubts to see - but it's not my place to say. If you do see him, let him know he's welcome as well.

[howifeltabouthim]

Books were of no use. Thinking was of no use . . . There was no refuge now from spiritual emptiness and discontent, and Dorothea had to bear her bad mood, as she would have borne a headache.

George Eliot, from Middlemarch

[formsofcontinuity]

Where the Light Leans Past Our Shadows

Summary: Kara takes a part-time job at the Luthor estate for the summer, hoping to use her down-time to finish writing a tell-all memoir of her tragic childhood. Lena is a reclusive genius trying to lay low in the aftermath of her brother’s trial. Neither of them are looking to fall in love.

Supercorp AU, no powers, rated T for now but will likely be M later

* * *

Chapter 1

June

Well, thought Kara.  I guess I’m really doing this.

She rolled down her car window and quickly typed in the gate code she’d been sent by Ms. Luthor’s assistant. The wrought iron gate, comically oversized but beautifully crafted, parted with a smooth whir that belied its heft. 

So, there really are people who live like this just an hour outside National City, on a hundred acres of countryside, behind stone and iron on a grassy hillside that only they can access, Kara mused. 

After a moment of eye-widening hesitation, she ducked her head back in the car. As she waited for the gate to open fully, Kara chanced a glance down at her outfit–a light blue button-down tucked into belted jeans and a pair of paddock boots, her hair pulled back into a neat, practical bun. She felt outclassed, and she hadn’t even set foot on the property yet. 

No, no. It was fine; she wasn’t here to make any kind of impression other than being as useful and unobtrusive as possible. Giving herself a little shake, Kara nodded once and gripped the wheel tighter as she began to pull up the long, winding drive to the Luthor estate. 

When Cat had made the arrangements on Kara’s behalf for her summer—what was this anyway: a job? A writing retreat? A foolish arrangement she might regret?—and told her that the house was “set back a ways from the main road,” she hadn’t properly conveyed that it would be almost a half mile before Kara would be able to see the roof and upper stories of the stately mansion rise out of the surrounding countryside. 

And all around was green, idyllic and lush, lined with fences but otherwise seemingly untouched–trees comfortingly large with reaching branches, and long grass shifting restlessly in the early summer breeze.

Kara’s phone buzzed in her pocket just as she was navigating the roundabout in front of the house and turning left toward the road around back where she’d been given explicit instructions to park. Rolling to a stop next to a red pickup truck already parked in front of a long, freshly painted row of dark green stables that looked more pristine than the interiors of most people’s homes, Kara glanced at the new message from her sister.

So, you’re really doing this, huh?

Kara rolled her eyes and smiled at the mirroring of her own thoughts. Alex knew her a bit too well. She glanced around to make sure no one had come to greet her and then tapped out a quick response.

I really am. It’s beautiful and quiet. Perfect place to write.  

An almost instant reply:  It’s not the writing I’m worried about.

Kara bit her lip. To say Alex had been skeptical about Kara’s rambling explanation of Cat’s proposition would be an understatement. According to Alex, it was a  terrible  idea. A distraction. A ridiculous lark. Maybe even a stain on her integrity as a writer. Kara had laughed out loud at that one. Alex had her best interests at heart, sure, but who would know—or care?—where she spent a summer writing the book her boss (now also officially her editor, Kara reminded herself giddily) thought might actually put her on the map, might actually make a difference? The book she’d been working herself up to write ever since she’d closed the chapter on that other long-lost life of hers, the one where people cared very little about what she thought and only about what she could do.

She’s not like the rest of her family, Alex. I know what that’s like better than anyone.

I know. I’m sorry. Is it nice there? 

Kara stepped out of the car as she typed out a quick response, anxious to explore:  It’s gorgeous. Call you tonight? 

Of course. Love you. 

Fifteen years ago, when Kara had come to live with the Danvers as a terrified thirteen-year-old, she’d known, even then, that she had a story to tell. A story about how good deeds are more often punished than not. She didn’t have the words then, but she had them now. After years of flying under the radar, dodging true crime aficionados and reporters looking to make a name for themselves with a tell-all from the last daughter of the Krypton cult, Kara was finally ready to talk. But it would be on her own terms. Her story, in her words. She hadn’t spent the last decade and a half living like a ghost, with a last name that wasn’t hers, only to turn back now. 

Kara shook her head, surveying the stables and barn with her hands on her hips for a moment, before texting Alex a quick heart emoji, pocketing her phone, and turning towards the car’s trunk. Now wasn't the time to reminisce. Before she could speak her truth, she had to finish the book–and wasn't that why she was here? 

That, and Kara didn't have the luxury to take time off just to write. The Danvers' were comfortably middle class, but they weren't wealthy. A steady income was absolutely necessary, and while she loved her work as an editor for Catco Publishing, it was draining, leaving her unable to write more than a paragraph or two when she got home at night. That’s how she’d eked out the first hundred pages, though, paragraph by paragraph. But if she really wanted to finish this book, she needed time. She needed this summer.

So, here was the perfect solution, Kara reminded herself with a smile as she shook off the contagion of Alex's worrying, and popped open the trunk. She pulled two suitcases free and placed them on the packed dirt of the drive. She had a free place to stay for three months on a gorgeous estate. She had a part-time job keeping a stable full of likely very high-end horses exercised. And she'd have the rest of the time to write, free of distractions. Cat had hinted that the enigmatic Lena Luthor–who now owned the manor and all of her family's assets after her murderous brother had been arrested and sentenced, and her mother, no doubt an accomplice, had vanished–probably wouldn't make much an appearance. 

"She's very private," Cat had scoffed, disbelievingly. "I think it's playing a little too perfectly into the 'evil genius in her lair' trope or, you know, the madwoman in the attic, but what do I know? That girl has the perfect makings of a bestseller, and she won't say a word." One of the other junior editors, Nia, later told Kara that Lena had refused no less than a dozen of Cat's offers to publish her memoirs of growing up in a household of megalomaniacal murderers. 

Still, the Grants and Luthors had run in similar circles, and Cat was one of the few allies Lena had left. When Lena had complained she didn't know who of her mother’s staff she could trust, it was Cat who'd made the suggestion of a mutually beneficial, temporary arrangement, just for a few months until Lena could figure out next steps.

Kara had heard all this from Cat’s gossipy assistant, Eve, of course, not the woman herself. Cat had only told her that she had the perfect solution to Kara's "inane" dilemma that she couldn't take an unpaid leave for three months just to write ("I mean, really, Kara, writers have to suffer for their art, and you'll still have health insurance because I'm nothing if not generous, but if you  insist on having a job, I have an idea for you."). So, here she was.

Lena hadn't even come out of the house to greet her, and Kara had been on the property for at least fifteen minutes, so she probably wouldn't be seeing much of the mysterious heiress. And Cat had said Lena wasn't much of a rider, that she was planning to sell the horses at the end of the summer once the hubbub of the trial had, hopefully, died down. So it would be just Kara with her thoughts, the occasional visit from Alex. Riding and writing. It was going to be a good summer. 

Read the rest of the first chapter on AO3!

[ourple-octoling]

i will do drafts i wILL DO DRAFTS I WILL

[liloandstitchlife]

💙💜if you exams soon;or if you just have something important happening; FOCUS (just like stitch)💜💙