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disquietiswhatitis · 3 years

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You’re my favorite reason to lose sleep (Sam/Andrea)

Of all the many things Sam has experienced that she did not expect since her relationship with Andrea began, the most surprising by far might be this:

Andrea Rojas snores.

Not always, but she does. It’s a quiet snore, nothing compared to the logs Sam’s father would saw when he fell asleep in front of the tv. Sam’s been with Andrea long enough to know that her lover only starts snoring if either she consistently hasn’t been getting enough sleep or if she’s gotten extremely drunk because she refuses to accept that Sam can outdrink her when it comes to tequila. As fun as drunk Andy can be, they’ve been good about their wine intake and they haven’t had any tequila in the apartment for a little over a month, so Sam figures it must be the lack of sleep. Reaching out, Sam takes a strand of her sleeping fiance’s hair, tucks it behind her ear, whispers “why haven’t you been sleeping baby?” and places a quick, tender kiss to Andrea’s shoulder. It’s a rhetorical question. Andrea snores again. Now, Sam loves Andrea. Truly, passionately loves her as does Andrea with Sam. While past heartbreaks have taught her to tread more cautiously, Sam still loves so easily and has so much to give. Andrea, conversely, hadn’t felt worthy of love in so long, she built walls that made it hard for her to receive or convey it. Somehow, much to the surprise of them both, Sam shattered those walls. They’ve been through their fair share in the time they’ve been together. While communication hasn’t always been their strongest suit, they’ve put in the time and effort to get better at it because they both enthusiastically agree that the other is so worth it. Knowing this, Sam is aware that she could ask Andrea what’s wrong, that Andrea would tell her and that they could go from there. However, Andrea is also asleep at the moment and Sam can’t think of anything else. She can’t put on her airpods and distract herself with her audiobook. The sultry voice of the narrator combined with the scene she was last narrating, well, it would make her want to wake Andrea up and... do things. Sam doesn’t know what she’d watch on any of the way-too-many-streaming-services-they-rarely-use without Andrea cuddled up with her on the couch. She’s not particularly hungry and she already went to the gym this morning. Reaching over to her nightstand, Sam puts on her reading glasses, grabs her phone and starts scrolling through social media she doesn’t really use. She likes a few photos of Alex and Kelly with their daughter. She glances through some articles about current events. After about five minutes, Sam sets her glasses and phone down and lets out a small huff. She can’t help but still think about it. Why hasn’t Andrea been sleeping? Sam gets up and walks to her dresser. She pulls out a pair of underwear and a slightly too large tee shirt, puts them on and goes to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Grabbing a mug out of the cabinet that had a picture of two avocados on the top row, three on the middle row and four on the bottom that said “avocados, avocatres, avoquatro,” Sam ponders her lover’s possible sleep-depriving woes. “It’s not Obsidian, right?” Sam thinks as she pours water from their filter into a mug, a gift she had gotten Andrea during their vacation to Miami. Sam knows how much it hurt Andrea when her company fell, but Sam stood by her side through it all and figured Andrea’s sleepless nights over that were over. “Could it be CatCo?” the brunette contemplates as she finishes her water and goes to refill it. Maybe. The print media conglomerate’s business model transition in an increasingly print-less world had been a bit of mixed bag even before Lena purchased it all those years ago. She knows Andrea likes the work she does at CatCo well enough, but she’d definitely noticed that her mood get a little more sour for a bit when it was the only thing she had left after Obsidian. Not that CatCo was a consolation prize but Andrea loved being on the cutting edge of the tech world and short of some major restructuring, CatCo just wouldn’t provide the same opportunity. Still, the business wasn’t struggling. They had a few layoffs some months ago, which led to some incredibly passive aggressive back and forth jabs between Kara and Andrea at game night shortly thereafter, but otherwise everything was fine. “Ok, lightning round” Sam states to herself, setting down her mug so she can count off with her fingers all the possibilities it could be. It’s definitely not the bills and nothing broke or needed repair around their home. Sam’s truck is functioning like a dream. They bought their outfits for the Lena Luthor Foundation gala two days ago. Andrea bought a dashing suit and Sam an incredibly curve-hugging dress, respectively; Sam thought it was a refreshing change of pace but she was more looking forward to the suit and tie look she had planned when she married Andrea...

Marry Andrea. The wedding. Sam forgot to mail out the invitations. Shit. Sam runs over to the table by the door and sure enough, there they were. A whole stack of save the dates that Sam had set down on Sunday evening, promising to mail them out first thing on Monday. It was Friday night. Fuck.

Quickly but quietly running to their home office, Sam pulls out a sticky note and a sharpie out of the desk drawer and in all caps writes “DO NOT FORGET.” Careful to put the sticky note and pen away quietly, Sam returns to the table by the entrance. She grabs the invitations, goes back to the kitchen and places them on the counter with the note and her purse next to them. There was no reason to try to hide her snafu from Andrea. They have a good relationship and Sam is confident Andrea will forgive her so long as she’s honest and apologizes (and credit to her Catholic boarding school education, Andrea sometimes really enjoys making Sam beg for forgiveness.) Refilling her water, Sam heads back to their bedroom, discarding her clothes and thinking of how she’s going to make it up to Andrea tomorrow. As soon as she climbs into bed, her partner, still in her sleeping position, states “you’re thinking too loud” in a voice that lets Sam know she’s awake but not fully conscious. Sam still smiles at the sound of her voice and happily says “Hey, you’re up.” Andrea turns, changes from laying on her left side to her right in order to face her significant other. “I am. What were you thinking about?” Sam just smiles “You. Always.” Andrea smiles back. “Oh? Do tell.” Sam tells her “You were snoring.” Andrea deflates. “You sure know how to woo a woman, Sammy.” Sam picks up Andrea’s left hand and points to the rock on Andrea’s ring finger “Damn straight. Exhibit A.” Andrea smiles again “You’ve got me there.” “So why the snoring? Is everything okay?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, everything’s fine honey. I just stayed up way too late...reading.” The way Andrea says “reading” catches Sam’s attention. Whatever Andrea was reading, Sam can tell she’s not not embarrassed by it and it almost certainly wasn’t a sales report. “Oh. What were you reading?” Sam teases playfully. Andrea couldn’t refuse the dimples facing her even if she wanted to. She just hopes the teasing won’t be too severe. “Buffy and Faith fanfic” Andrea states rather bluntly. Sam laughs. Andrea loves that laugh; it’s one of the many ways Sam broke down her barriers and made Andrea fall in love. “That’s great babe. Did you enjoy it?” Sam asks, no longer laughing but still smiling and still completely sincere. Sam is not mocking in any way, just delighted at the fact a successful CEO of a multimillion dollar company stayed up too late reading about a twenty year old ship. Andrea knows this and while she knows it’s not an interest Sam shares, Sam actively listens and encourages Andrea when she talks about it because Sam knows it matters to her. Andrea loves Sam so freaking much. Andrea delicately runs her hand up Sam’s arm and says “I enjoy us” in an overtly suggestive tone. Sam doesn’t need to be told twice. She goes for Andrea’s neck first; slow, steady kisses, savoring every pulse beat she can feel as Andrea’s breathing starts to shallow. She works her way up to Andrea’s earlobe and bites it just enough to get a moan out of Andrea without leaving (much of) a mark as her lover’s hands grasp at Sam’s shoulders. Sam kisses her way across Andrea’s wonderful jawline, pulling back just before Andrea’s luscious lips can connect with hers. Andrea’s lips instinctively chase after Sam’s but Sam pulls her head back just a bit farther to stay out of reach and tease the shorter woman, if only for a moment. She goes back in and Eskimo kisses her nose with Andrea’s. The buildup is excruciating for Andrea but damn if not’s always worth it. A breath away from Andrea’s lips, Sam looks into her eyes and asks “Yeah?” Andrea rolls onto her back. Sam follows, her arms on either side of Andrea’s head, to stay positioned above her lover. Andrea tosses aside the blanket and with it, the sight of her exquisite body is completely bare for Sam to drink in. Sam’s eye dilate and the only way Andrea can describe her look is carnal. Taking in the site of the sculpted woman above her, she knows she can reciprocate that desire. Andrea huskily replies “Yeah” and as she hungrily grabs Sam’s face to bring her in for a searing kiss, their bodies suddenly writhing against one another, Sam figured it’d probably be okay to wait to tell her about the invitations.

Author’s note: I actually felt inspired to write a short Reignjas ficlet yesterday and I went with it. As the idea kept expanding, it wound up heading in a direction I’ve never tried to write before. I ended up putting more thought and hours into it than I had expected, staying up to the point where I maybe had to call out of work this morning (my life’s a mess but that’s not important right now.) Anyway, this isn’t that final ficlet. I’ll probably be working on that (more responsibly) for a little bit but I felt confident enough that I wanted to post this (mostly) smut free version. Hope y’all enjoy it.

#reignjas #rojarias #sam arias #andrea rojas #writing #ficlet #fanfic #supergirl #sam x andrea

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 years

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Cult of Luthor: Slow Dance

Between a socially acceptable wardrobe and two new friends, high school becomes a more tolerable experience for Lena. She finds rather surprising enjoyment in gym class, once she gets her legs under her and forgets to be self-conscious.

LuthorCorp children learn basic fitness in the compound, but only as a means to an end-- as maintenance or energy depletion when children are too amped up to focus.

Lena finds she enjoys competition, and while she has to learn the rules of various sports, she participates with gusto, unaware that most girls usually don't. She likes surprising the boys who think her an easy target, and loves the special thrill that runs through her when a ball sinks into the net, or a birdie hits her racket, or she sets a perfect spike for a teammate.

But beyond that, the outside world swiftly loses its shiny luster.

She makes lists of media references she overhears at school, and fills her evenings catching up on popular shows, googling memes on commercial breaks. Eliza brings home People magazine, and Lena devours names and faces of celebrities, the latest gossip.

The consumption takes its toll.

Kara finds Lena out on the porch one night, face turned into the breeze that gently billows her hair.

The sky is clear and the moon bright, casting Lena in an ethereal glow that takes Kara's breath away.

But a deep unhappiness lurks under Lena's serenity, and Kara quietly joins her against the wooden porch rail.

"Hey," she says softly. Lena's eyes open, turning their gaze on her. "Everything okay?"

A sweatered shoulder lifts. "I was just thinking."

"Uh oh," Kara teases, offering a playful smile that fades when Lena features darken. "About what?"

"That Lex was right," Lena mutters. Her jaw is tight, eyes flinty in the dark. "Your magazines are filled with women quantified by their bodies, and rapists continue to have lucrative careers despite the widespread knowledge of their guilt. Everything on the outside is so-- shallow, and inane! Even in school you're taught only to the curriculum, there's no room for curiosity or deeper thought. It's about test performance, not comprehension, and what is it preparing you for?

"For a life of drudgery, mindlessly toiling to earn a wage that might give shelter or food but not both? For four years at a university where half the students don't even want to be there because learning has been made a burden to them?"

Lena's face pinches into a frown, her shoulders shrugging sharply. "Maybe Lex lied about some things, and maybe to others it looks like oppression, but he created a world that doesn't scrape to adhere to some capitalistic ideal of mindless consumption and zero return!"

"I didn't know you felt that way..."

"Of course not. You just joke about how thinking is dangerous." Lena pulls away, even as Kara stiffens beside her. "Better be careful... wouldn't want to earn a reputation as a free thinking individual, would I?"

The night rings with the sharp edge of Lena's voice, and Kara almost takes a step back. She's never seen Lena angry, or resentful, and she can't say she likes it.

She doesn't even know if Lena likes it. It certainly doesn't look like it with her fingers clutching at her upper arms and her jaw stiff with clenching.

"There's no connection out here. Not to each other, or even the ground beneath your feet. All you care about is other's perception of you, and... It's all so meaningless!"

The thirty day mark has been ticking closer, and Kara has been dreading Lena's looming choice. She's never connected with a guest the way she's connected with Lena. She's never been less than thrilled to seem them return to their homes, healed and full of hope.

But Lena... Kara can't bear to think of the day Lena will no longer be in the next room, or across the breakfast table. She won't be able to look up from her stupid english homework and distract herself by watching Lena speak with Sam in tones, heads bent together over a textbook. She won't be able to see the way Lena's eyes light up as she explains something or her megawatt smile when Sam gets it.

"You're going back then," Kara surmises, her chest tightening around the words.

But Lena looks away, lips trembling. "I don't know."

"Oh." Kara studies Lena carefully. "Does that mean there are some things you do like here on the outside?"

Pale fingers wipe at averted eyes. A kernel of hope flickers to life in Kara's chest.

"I know," she says softly. "It's the potstickers, isn't it?"

A surprised laugh bubbles out of Lena, dispelling her gloom for the briefest of moments.

"Or Van Gogh's Starry Night," Kara continues, sidling closer. She remembers the way Lena had stared at the painting, when they'd seen it at the visiting exhibit at the museum.

On a whim, Kara pulls out her phone, scrolling through in search of something else. With a grin, she clicks on a song she recognizes from the cartoon she and Lena watch together every night, having started all the way back at the beginning.

"Or maybe this."

Music starts strumming her phone's small speakers. It's soft and slow, but banishes more of Lena's doubt when a small smile grows in recognition.

"I just wanna slowww dance with you," Kara sings along, taking Lena's hand in hers. A small tug brings Lena close with no resistance. She fits in Kara's arms like she was born to be there, and their bodies move together in a gentle sway as Kara continues to hum.

"I just wanna slow dance with you..."

When the music fades, they slow to a stop. Their eyes lock, and for a moment Kara can barely breathe, lost in the moonlight reflecting in Lena's teary eyes.

The next thing she knows, Lena's lips brush against hers, sending electricity arcing through every inch of her.

"I'd miss you," Kara hears through yawning ears. Lena's voice is muggy through her shock, but a moment later Kara's brain catches up.

She joins their lips again, the uncertainty of her first kiss meeting Lena's own firm confidence. For a long moment, there is nothing but them and the moonlight.

When they part, their cheeks are both flushed, their eyes bright. Kara leans their heads together, and offers up the only thing she can.

"I'd miss you too," she murmurs softly. "So much."

When she wraps her arms around Lena in a hug, Lena's arms curl around her in return. They stand there for what seems like hours, swaying gently to a song only they can hear.

Continued: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Appendix A

#cult of luthor #supercorp #told you it was coming #slow dance #first kiss #pls remember theyre teenagers

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ravenforce · 5 years

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Muse

Prompt: "Hey, could you write a Lena Luthor Alex Danvers (you can choose the one you like) where the reader is an artist (painter) and have been secretly in love with one of them and the reader paints about how they feel but Alex or Lena don’t know why they paint such things??"

Requested by: @pressolo23

Pairing: Lena Luthor x Reader

Word Count: 1912

Warning/s: None, except it’s long.

A/N: Hey guys, you know the drill. I don’t own there characters. Also, all mistakes are mine. Sorry! I hope you guys like it.

***

Art has been a part of you for as long as you can remember. Growing up, you would much rather stay indoors and draw than go outside and play with other kids your age. You're an only child, your parents indulged your every whim; which in that case is just art materials. Your parents would even take you on a trip out of town sometimes, so you can, as they say, find inspiration elsewhere.

You just moved to National City. After your parents' early demise, you moved around a lot. Until recently, your art curator best friend, Markus, asked you to come to National City and work in his gallery as a resident artist. You agreed easily, you haven’t seen him after he moved away and what do you have to lose anyway.

Moving to National City proved to be a wise decision. You're putting some roots; you're renting an apartment a short distance from the gallery, you're getting along well with your employer and his other artists, you're also making friends outside of work. For the first time in a while, you feel like you're finally living again. Painting though is still a struggle sometimes. After your parents' accident, you struggled with your art. Even Markus noticed when he was viewing your latest piece.

"Don't get me wrong (Y/N), your technique is spot on but something seems to be missing," he mused while carefully studying your work.

You sighed, you know it's true. It doesn't have a soul.

He saw you looked down, he patted your shoulder and said, "you'll find it again, I know it."

***

A few days after, Markus announced that the following week a benefactor will be visiting the gallery and the studio to meet them. The gallery will host a small party. You're not new to these types of events, so you just shrugged and went back to your studio to try and rectify your current predicament. Of course, you know it's somewhat futile to force inspiration to come when it won't. So you just ended up sitting cross-legged in front of your last creation and staring at it.

The day of the party, you decided to play nice and dress up for once. You're wearing black trousers, a white oxford shirt, and black oxford shoes. You look nice, most of your friends you left at home would even say you look like your normal self if they can see you. When you stepped into the gallery that night, you expected the setup - typical. What you didn't expect was for the said gallery benefactor to be a beautiful, young woman. Probably the same age as you.

She looked up and met your eyes. Not to be cliche but when your eyes met, you felt like the wind has been knocked out of your lungs but the colors of the world that you've been missing for the past year has returned. You were speechless, you felt like you're on auto-pilot. Next thing you know you're standing next to Markus and he's introducing you.

"Ms. Luthor, this is one my artist, (Y/N)(Y/L/N)."

She offered her hand. "Hi, nice to meet you," she said.

You shook her hand. "Pleasure is all mine," you answered as confidently as you could.

“(Y/N)? You’re the one painting the dystopian cities? They’re inventive,” she said with a smile.

You fought down the urge to blush, but when someone as beautiful as Lena Luthor compliments your work, there’s no fighting it. “Ah! Yes, they’re an experiment though. A way to explore another subject and style,” you said politely.

“(Y/N) used to paint portraits,” Markus said.

“Used to?” Lena asked. You just smiled sadly at her.

***

The next morning, Markus was beyond surprised to see you at the studio bright and early. You’re already on your studio, priming your canvases and preparing your brushes and paints. “Are you gonna say hi, or are you just going to be creepy out there,” you teased him without looking up from your canvas. He let out a genuine belly laugh.

“I was actually trying to be polite. I didn’t want to risk disturbing you when you’re clearly on a roll,” he said. You turned towards him and rolled your eyes lovingly. He’s a really good friend, even after all this time.

“Get out of here, and don’t disturb me unless you’re dying,” you bantered back. He walked away from your studio laughing. After Markus left, you put on some classical music and started painting. You didn’t hear from Markus or anyone of the artist in-house artists until lunch time. They asked if you wanted to join them, which you politely declined.

It was two hours after lunchtime when you decided it’s time to get some food in you. So you washed your hands clean of paint, and the smell of turpentine. You pass by Noonan’s; it’s past lunch hour so there’s not a lot of people. Plus the smell of freshly brewed coffee is calling you. You were waiting for your takeaway when you heard someone call your name. You turned around and saw none other than, Lena Luthor. You took your food and coffee-to-go and walked to her table. She’s sitting next to a bubbly blonde woman, and a broody redhead.

“Late lunch?” she asked when you step beside their table. Everyone is watching you.

“Yes, I forget to eat when I’m in painting.”

“Oh, you paint! You must be (Y/N) from the art gallery. Lena talked a lot about you. I’m Kara, by the way, I’m Lena’s best friend,” Kara said, beaming from ear-to-ear. Lena bowed her head trying to hide her blush. Kara seems to be unaware of what she just said.

“I’m Alex, Kara’s sister. Lena’s less nosy friend,” the brunette said, clearly trying to diffuse Lena’s embarrassment. You chuckled.

“Yup, I’m (Y/N). I guess that makes me Lena’s new friend?” you said. They invited you to sit down and you ended up eating there too. Before parting ways, the Danvers sister invited you to game night the next day. You looked to Lena before agreeing.

“I guess, I’ll see you tomorrow at game night,” she said before leaving.

***

Since that day at Noonan’s, you have been accepted to Lena’s group of friends. You got closer over time. Close enough to visit her in the office with lunch, or drag her out early for dinner and drinks. Close enough that she invites you in her penthouse when she has a particularly bad day and doesn’t want to go out. Close enough for her to talk about her family history, her trauma, her pain, her insecurities. On these occasions, you would come back to the gallery and finish your newest collection.

Lena never questions why you never invited her to your place or your studio. She trusts you, but sometimes she wonders if you don’t want her there. One afternoon, you texted Lena if you can come by her office. When you arrived, she’s already on her sofa with her shoes on the floor.

“Wow, isn’t it a little too early to be slacking off, Ms. Luthor?” you teased.

She stuck her tongue out at you. And you marveled at how lucky to be witnessing this side of her. You sat next to her and handed her an envelope. She quirked an eyebrow before reaching out and opening it.

“Wow, (Y/N) your first solo exhibition in National City,” she said before she tackled you in a hug. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.”

***

Your exhibit was opening a week after you dropped the invitation to Lena’s office. Your exhibit features your works through the years, including a portrait of your parents, the landscapes from your home town, the dystopian cities series, and the one you’ve been working hard for all these past months. Lena arrived with Kara, Alex, Nia, and Querl. Markus met them at the entrance and guided them through the gallery. The group was pleasantly surprised to see some of them as a subject in one of your paintings - Alex laughing at Kara in-game night, Querl and Nia cuddling at movie night, Kara with a mouthful of potstickers.

“(Y/N) has a very good eye, and control to produce such intricate details using a brush,” Querl commented. Markus laughed.

“She’s been my friend since we were kids, (Y/N) has a talent remembering faces. It’s some sort of photographic memory,” Markus said. As they walked deeper into the gallery, the paintings have shifted from portraits to portraits of a woman’s back; sometimes hands, smile, and eyes.

“Guys, does this paintings look like,” Nia started.

“Lena,” Kara answered. She’s bouncing on her feet.

***

Lena is quiet while they continued to walk to the last room in the gallery. Everyone’s breathe caught. There are only three artworks in the room. On the left side of the room is Lena in her office; working in her computer with a very serious look in her face. On the right side is Lena laughing at game night. In the middle is Lena in her penthouse, wine glass in hand, without makeup and smiling softly. Lena is stack still in the entrance of the room, while your friends went in to inspect the paintings more closely.

“Don’t you like it?” you suddenly said beside her. She turned around so fast, you worried she might get whiplash. Your friends noticed you and started to congratulate you. You beamed at them.

“Why?” Lena asked quietly before she stormed out of the room. Your friends are confused, you’re not. Kara is already going after Lena, but you stopped her. You walked out of the room to follow Lena. She’s already out of the gallery when you caught sight of her. You jogged up to catch up to her.

“Lee,” you said as you caught her arm.

“Why?” she wants to cry. She thinks this is some prank. She doesn’t feel worthy of your attention, your affection. She doesn’t feel worthy of you. She’s out of breath from the power walking. You tucked a stray hair out of her face before looking in her eyes and said, “because Lee, you’re worth it.”

A sob escaped her before you pulled her into a hug. “In all the times, you’ve told me about your insecurities, I come back to the gallery to paint something about you that I love. And I love everything about you, Lee.”

She cried some more and hugged you back.

“I love you too,” she said after her tears died down.

#lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor #supergirl #supergirl imagine #raven writes

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pasta-abomination · 7 years

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Well, Supergirl, it’s been fun.

When I first heard of the show last year, it was this—maybe a little cheesy, but that’s comics—fun show with a focus on relationships between women of all different types, a show about a woman growing up and coming into her own and finding her place in the world. And, of course, Kara and Alex. The sisterhood at the heart of the show. Of course there were some things that could’ve been done better—but it became clearer and clearer that it was an honest effort.

I hope you know how much of a leap of faith it took to follow Supergirl to the CW, as a queer woman. I hope you know that that’s—in my entirely unprofessional opinion—an indicator of how much good faith this show had. This show literally got the CW’s foot in the door with a demographic that it had all but completely alienated by this time last year.

I think it’s safe to say you’ve used that up.

I believe that representation matters. But it doesn’t begin and end with Sanvers. And this season I have watched:

1. A black man and a beloved DC character sidelined as a love interest with no warning, no real explanation, and no further treatment of it—now, as we know, to pair off Kara with the frat-boy reincarnation of Lar Gand   2. Kara’s entire arc this season (both Danvers sisters, actually) be reduced to her love interest. Jeremiah who?   3. The eighty millionth regurgitation of the “love of a good woman” trope. I don’t need to go into why this is inappropriate on so many levels in a supposedly feminist show that’s marketed towards young women and girls (but I will anyways).   4. Characterization and continuity thrown out the window in order to make Mon-El look good and drive the plot.    For Jeremiah’s deception to fool everyone but Mon-El, not only do we have to assume that it never occurred to trained government operatives that he could be a plant, we also have to believe that a) no one examined him at the DEO, b) if they did, no one knows the difference between a robotic arm and a human one, and c) we have to forget that Hank/J’onn is a literal mind reader.    You can only excuse so much before it starts to look like you’re tearing down your title character and your actual core ensemble in order to make a character relevant to the plot.  5. Kara repeatedly insist that she doesn’t like Mon-El, she doesn’t want to be around him—only to have him harass her until she dates him (or forgives him).   6. Alex “Come near my family and I will end you” Danvers push her sister repeatedly at a man who Kara has openly expressed dislike for multiple times; who, once they’re dating, disrespects and lies to her repeatedly. She excuses his behavior on more than one occasion. (Are we sure they haven’t all been replaced with White Martians?)   7. Watch Kara be put in a position (sometimes transparently contrived, as in “Homecoming”) where she either has to apologize to Mon-El because he’s been justified by the narrative, or, for some unknown reason (usually prodding from another character, like Alex or the Music Meister), decides to forgive him. Over and over and over again.   8. An actual episode, supposedly focused on the Danvers family, where Mon-El has more screen time than the actual lead and drives a plot he isn’t even relevant to.

This show was, nominally, about Kara Danvers. Her as a whole person; trauma, family, grief, rage, jealousy—and her deep desire in spite of what she’d been through to give back to her adoptive home and do the right thing. It was about her professional life, trying to make her way in the world and working for the kind of woman that could help her learn how to do those things. It was about her assumptions being challenged—not narratively bludgeoned—and her learning. But most of all, it was about her becoming her own person. A whole person.

That show is gone. Her single main arc this season as a character is rehabilitating the galaxy’s most unrepentant frat boy by… arguing with him a lot and constantly being pushed to a point where she’s ready to break up with him, apparently. People are so quick to say “But he’s learning!”; “But Kara’s a stick-in-the-mud!”; “She’s prejudiced too!” (I’m pretty sure you call “prejudice” against a shameless misogynist “standards”, but what do I know, I’m gay). They’re missing the point. And that is:

Kara’s story now revolves around Mon-El.

Arguments and evenings with him have entirely replaced “sister nights” at the end of the episodes. His secrets, his disrespect, his actions, are now driving her development as a character. She mostly only reacts to events outside of that, like another threat from Cadmus, or rescuing Lena Luthor, or whatever’s happening with Jeremiah—but her stance towards those events is reactive.

In other words, Kara no longer drives her own story.

And Kara has lost her job at CatCo. That job that, last year, “kept her connected” to the people she was trying to serve? Disappeared with a whimper after a similarly half-assed treatment to the search for Jeremiah. Kara no longer has a professional life.

But okay. I’m gay; clearly I don’t understand what it’s like to be heterosexual, or in a relationship, and I’m obviously only in this for the Supercorp, right? I should just stay in my lane. I have Sanvers! What else could I possibly want?

Funny you should ask.

Flip side of Alex’s story—I’ve lived in queer communities. I’ve watched friends come out. Women who thought they were straight.

And I watched them struggle with the things they’ve been taught about relationships. What they should want and what’s acceptable from a partner. What love looks like, on that micro, interpersonal level. Things that are, in many ways, inextricably intertwined with gender, in our culture.

Mon-El is the closest thing I can think of to an embodiment of all those things that they struggle to unlearn. Mon-El—and stories like this one—are exactly how they learned those things.

Let me remind you, in case you’ve forgotten, that while the queer lady fanbase for shows tends to have a much wider age range, this show is primarily directed at young women and girls.

A show that’s marketed as “female-centric” has in fact become a show about a woman fixing a man—a man who, incidentally, doesn’t want to be fixed. He just wants to keep banging her.

And these girls are going to grow up and become women—straight or not—who will go out into the world thinking that this is normal. That this is acceptable—to be lied to repeatedly, to have your requests for privacy disregarded, your family spoken to rudely and your parents treated with hostility and suspicion, to have your house broken into, be accused of sleeping with someone by a jealous not-boyfriend, to shoulder the entire emotional weight of making the relationship work by forgiving him over and over and over again—

—Because in the end, the story goes, that will make him (them) better.

The reality is, so often, that it doesn’t. That a person will happily continue taking advantage of someone’s good faith if they think they can get away with it. That jealous behavior like Mon-El exhibits often escalates into physical violence. That a dude who seemingly doesn’t care is often exactly what he seems. Someone who doesn’t want to change will not change, no matter how “much” you love them.

That you owe it to that person to stay with them and pour all your effort into a relationship; that sure, you “deserve better” than to be lied to—But you’re still a terrible person if you don’t give them another chance.

Compared with a relationship that only gets five minutes of screen time most episodes, it feels a little bit like I’m expected to be happy with what I’m offered as a member of the queer female demographic and ignore the utterly cringe-worthy toxicity of the Kara/Mon-El relationship, the abrupt and kinda racist way James was removed from the field, the terrible narrative choices, the plot holes so big you could lose Fort Rozz in them, and, oh yeah—that Supergirl is no longer Kara’s story. It’s the story of Mon-El’s rehabilitation.

I can’t celebrate the representation I’ve wanted for fifteen years when it means I have to ignore the destructive messages the rest of this show is pushing.

And, kinda like a car crash, it’s becoming increasingly clear that whoever is driving this story is not letting off the gas. I don’t know why. But I can see it coming, so I’m bailing.

I want to support positive queer representation. I want to support shows about women, and their stories—all of them. It’s what made me willing to take a risk on this show after the move was announced.

But Supergirl is no longer that story. And damn, I wish it were different. But I recognize the signs. And I’m gonna be spending my Monday evenings watching something else. Something I can enjoy without feeling like I’m throwing anyone who’s not me under the bus. Hanging on and waiting for a change that’s never gonna come.

#supergirl #sanvers #karolsen #supercorp #kara danvers #anti-mon-el #tokenism #i am not here to be used to sell a toxic relationship

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jedifighterpilot2727 · 7 years

Note

promot: jess walks in kara and lena so they decide to not do it in the office anymore so they go to kara's house and alex and maggie walk in on the and alex just hands maggie 25$ mumbling something about loosing a bet

Damnit, Lena - Eyes Like Kryptonite Ch. 12

NOTE THE RATING CHANGE! all M chapters will be appropriately marked.

Chapter rated M for almost smut

Read it on AO3- http://archiveofourown.org/works/9100903/chapters/21248555

Lena Luthor does NOT have an exhibition kink.

She doesn’t.

Really.

It’s not like she actually wants to get caught having sex.

She just like the potential for getting caught.

Errr… threat. The threat of getting caught.

The thought of buttoned up, prim and proper, never so much as a speeding ticket in her life Kara Danvers getting so caught up in the act of fucking her that she forgets to use her super senses to check for people coming to interrupt them leaves Lena more than a little hot and bothered.

It leaves her a suffocatingly hot and unbearably bothered.

So if she tempts fate on occasion, is it really her fault?

“Snapper wants me to get quotes from people who watched the meteor shower.”Kara mumbles around a bite of her sandwich. “Not to write a story about the meteor shower, but to get quotes. From people who woke up at 3am to watch a meteor shower.”

“We were up at 3am watching the meteor shower, you can get a quote from me.” Lena offers, trying desperately not to notice the way Kara’s neck muscles strain as she chews. “And you could get a quote from Supergirl, that would be an interesting view point - an alien’s thoughts on a space phenomenon.”

“Mmmm! I could go down to the bar and ask the aliens there if any of them watched it. That’s a great idea!”

Lena simply nods, not trusting herself to speak after she watches Kara’s biceps flex to open a bottle of water.

“Oh and Alex and Maggie are going to meet us at our place and we’ll walk over to the theater together if that’s okay with you.“

Lena nods again, and Kara gives her a look.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Of course, Alex and Maggie are meeting us at the apartment and we’re walking to the theater.“

Kara’s eyes lock with hers and she almost misses the way her girlfriend’s hands flutter nervously.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?“

Kara doesn’t speak for a moment, her blue eyes searching Lena’s green ones, and when she does speak it comes out like a squeak.

“Like you want to eat me for lunch.”

She’s sure the smile that spreads across her face is purely devilish.

“I was thinking you looked more like dessert.“

Kara gulps at that, eyes wide behind her glasses.

“Here?!”

Lena pulls her legs up under her and leans across the couch, making sure that the cleavage showing over the top of her blouse is on full display.

“You act like we haven’t done this before.“

“Well, no, I mean - yes- but, well, aren’t you busy?”

Lena reaches out a single finger, tracing the edge of Kara’s white button up.

“I have the time if you do.”

“I have- “ Kara’s voice cuts out and she clears her throat. “I have time.“

That’s all the permission Lena needs and she surges forward, capturing Kara’s lips with her own. She tries to keep it chaste but Kara’s teeth close around her lower lip and she quickly loses any semblance of the self control she was pretending to have.

Kara leans back on the couch, strong hands lifting Lena until she’s on top her, skirt riding up as straddles Kara’s hips. She feels the heat rising from Kara’s body, threatening to set her aflame.

Kara pulls back, hand gripping at Lena’s hair and her head is pulled down until she can feel Kara’s breath on her ear, wet tongue darting out to catch the shell of it.

“Fast or slow?”

It’s a simple question that lights a fire in Lena’s belly.

“Fast.” She glances at the clock on the wall. “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.“

She feels Kara nod and then she’s in the air, floating briefly as Kara turns them over and sets her gently back down on the couch. Her skirt is hiked even higher on her thighs than before and her heart pounds in her chest with anticipation.She looks up at her girlfriend who has one foot on the ground, the other leg on the couch between Lena’s. Her blond hair is falling out of its clips, the collar of her shirt has come untucked from her cardigan, and her glasses are askew but she doubts if Kara even notices. The reporter is unbuttoning her slacks, eyes locked on Lena and this time she’s the one that’s smirking

She loves this, the way Kara is so demure and unassuming until Lena pushes just the right button and it’s like a switch has flipped and Kara is this sexually confident, super powered goddess. Sometimes Lena makes it a game with herself - to see just what sequence of actions it takes to press that button.

Her eyes drift to where Kara’s pants are falling open, the tracings of her abs just peeking through, and Lena can’t stop herself from reaching out and outlining them with her finger. She dips down lower, past the elastic off Kara’s underwear, past the curve of her pubic bone-

“Ms. Luthor, your one o’clock is early - oh!”

Lena’s brain freezes and then scrambles to take in the fact that her assistant is in the doorway and Kara’s hand is at the top of her thigh just at the edge of her underwear (when did that happen?); and her own hand is down Kara’s pants and holy shit, how could she have forgotten to lock her door … again?

“I’ll tell him that you’ll be a few minutes late.” Jess finishes and well, at least somebody got to finish.

“Thank you, Jess.” Lena’s eyes are still locked with Kara’s, neither of them moving a muscle until the door clicks closed again.

As soon as it does, Kara steps away, obviously flustered, buttoning her pants and running her fingers through her hair. Lena takes her time, standing and letting her skirt fall back to her knees as she straightens her blouse in one of the decorative mirrors.

“I’m just gonna go … work on those quotes for Snapper.“

Lena almost laughs at the sudden change. And she grins at her girlfriend before stepping closer to adjust Kara’s collar.

“What time are Alex and Maggie coming over? 7?”

Kara nods, eyes locked on Lena’s lips.

She can’t resist just one more, so she leans and pecks their lips together, refusing to let it deepen, no matter how much she wants to cancel all of her meetings and spend the afternoon with Kara in bed. When she pulls back, Kara still looks flustered, Lena’s purple lipstick smeared so that she looks like a subdued version of the Joker.

Lena does laugh then, and uses her thumb to wipe the lipstick away.

“I love you.“

“I love you too, I’ll see you tonight.” Kara promises as she turns to leave.

It’s a nice view, and Lena reaches out to smack her ass.

“Go get ‘em, Danvers.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I thought you said they were going to be here at 7?“

Lena plops down on the sofa next to Kara, practically in her lap, gazing up at her girlfriend as she flips through a stack of papers.

“Alex said Maggie got stuck up at the precinct a little late. They should be here in about twenty.”

“Maybe we can eat first and grab a later showing then?“

“Works for me.”

Kara’s eyes don’t leave the page in front of her and Lena takes a moment to study her profile, heart fluttering at the familiar sight. Kara swallows and as Lena watches her throat bob, she bites her lip - wondering how she ever got lucky enough for an actual ray of sunshine to fall in love with her.

She leans forward, teeth gently scraping the column of Kara’s neck and she doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath.

“Lena.“

She pulls back to meet Kara’s eyes.

“Want me to stop?”

Kara just shakes her head and Lena finds herself being tugged onto her girlfriend’s lap, straddling her knees as the papers Kara had been looking at scatter in the floor. Kara’s mouth is hot and insistent against her neck and for a moment she worries she might bruise but then she remembers she doesn’t care and her fingers begin working at the buttons of Kara’s shirt. She gets it down as far as she can without shifting positions and then her fingers move to Kara’s bra straps, tugging them down until her heaving chest is on display.

The sight turns her on immensely.

She knows that no physical exertion can get the superhero this breathless, that it’s all her - all Lena- and her heart stammers at the thought.

“Baby, please.” Kara whispers desperately and Lena’s stomach clenches. She nudges Kara’s chin upwards with her nose and traces her tongue down her strong jawline. Kara’s hands are firm on her hips, running along her thighs but they freeze at the sound of a door slamming.

“Sorry we’re late- what the - my eyes!”

Lena doesn’t have to turn around to know that Alex and Maggie are in her living room and they can see her, on top of her girlfriend, Kara’s hands on her ass. She’s grateful for the small things, like the fact that she’s still fully dressed, and that she’s blocking their view of Kara’s mostly exposed chest.

“What the hell are you doing to my baby sister, Luthor?!”

“Not what I want to be doing! Why are you even here? I thought you were going to be late!“

“We made up time! I tried to let you know but somebody didn’t answer her phone!”

“I was otherwise preoccupied!” Lena yells back and she can feel Kara shaking with laughter beneath her.

“Can you give us like five minutes?” She begs, dropping her forehead to Kara’s in exasperation.

“Come on Danvers,” She hears Maggie cut in. “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“I don’t even know why we had to bet on how long it would take to catch them in the act at their new place. That was a dumb bet on my part.”

Lena hears the door close behind them and she opens her eyes to see Kara’s twinkling up at her.

“Twice in one day? It’s almost like you’re trying to caught.“

“I’m trying to get laid, sweetheart.”

Kara laughs, that musical sound that Lena loves.

“Well maybe next time we’ll make it to the bedroom and we can actually finish.“

Lena raises her eyebrows.

“Or … “

“I’m not having sex with you in the movie theater bathroom!”

“You can’t blame a girl for trying!“

#supercorp #supergirl #fanfiction #tumblr prompt #eyes like kryptonite

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