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#supergirl memes
cardcaptorsakura96 · 2 days
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sprqpointintern · 2 years
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kara in every episode
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maddiedrawz · 10 months
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caught red handed heheH
come up with what they did in the tags lol
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(x)
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ostropest · 7 months
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Oh Kara honey.
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leighlew3 · 8 months
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“Do you guys ever think about how Supercorp was effectively endgame after five years of queerbait but also not technically endgame for no other reason than homophobia?”
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dr-lizortecho · 9 months
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Get To Know Me Meme-> TV Shows [3/10] Justice League: Unlimited
“Each of you brings something different to the table. Strength, speed, stealth, whatever. But we’re all equal in at least one way- each of us is willing to make the sacrifices a hero needs to make. Even the ultimate one.”
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ekingston · 1 year
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For the fic game: Kara and Lena meet in a book store as they're about to pick the same book. It's the last one so they kind of fight over it, each trying to prove why the book is important to them
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(Also on ao3.)
Kara doesn’t recognize her at first. She’s wearing jeans, for one, and it’s not as if Kara is checking her out, per se, but she’d be a liar if she said she isn’t a tiny bit mortified when she realizes the backside she’s been admiring belongs to none other than Lena Luthor, the tech mogul, philanthropist and all around human marvel who Kara is no longer allowed to talk about to her sister, for some reason. She’s just. Here, in the bookstore around the corner from Kara’s office, browsing the stacks as if that’s a thing people still do even when they could probably afford to, like. Buy up Amazon, or something. 
Kara makes an honest effort to stop ogling Lena’s ass in favor of figuring out whether she should say something to her. She hangs back, reaching to adjust her glasses before becoming worried her nervous fingers may knock them down and accidentally reveal more than just the fact that Lena Luthor’s butt looks terrific in jeans. She changes her mind, hastily shoving her hand in her pocket instead, but not before she thwacks it into an inconveniently located display, sending a selection of Dummies guides flying in every direction. 
Kara is already scrambling to pick them up by the time the sound of it reaches Lena’s ears, already on her knees and flustered by the time Lena turns around. 
“Oh!” Lena says, her eyes wide and startled. She’s wearing a pair of glasses herself, huge and heavy-rimmed. “Oh!” she says again, eyelashes fluttering, and then, “I know you.” 
And she doesn’t, see, that’s the thing. Not really. Kara has only met Lena three times, and at least two of them were under less-than-ideal circumstances. Kara wouldn’t blame Lena if she didn’t remember her at all, especially when she technically wasn’t even Kara during the second one of those meetings, when she had plucked Lena’s wobbling chopper from a surprisingly unfriendly sky.
(Lena today looks lovelier even than she had looked during that hectic, disheveled encounter, which, in spite of the fact that Lena had been sort of busy surviving her own attempted murder, had been rather extraordinary, in Kara’s opinion. Alex was somewhat less impressed, even after the third time Kara patiently explained it to her.)
Kara tries to give Lena a smile that’s as intelligent and put-together as she can manage under the current circumstances. “Yeah, um.” She rises to her feet, keeping her fingers carefully folded around the books she’s retrieved from the floor. “It’s Kara—”
“Kara Danvers,” Lena finishes with a small, quizzical smile. “Of Catco magazine. Of course.”
And Kara can’t for the life of her figure out why it’s so ridiculously flattering to have this amazing woman place her immediately like this, or why her own name sounds so much prettier when it’s spoken with that peculiar, impeccable diction Lena Luthor has, rolling from lips that are free of the red tint Kara has become accustomed to seeing. This is out-of-office Lena Luthor, Kara realizes. A Saturday morning Lena Luthor, who loiters, perhaps even moseys, who lingers in bookstore aisles long enough to make even the densest version of Kara Zor-El realize (eventually) that she is, in fact, blocking her access to the very section Kara had come here for.
It’s also a Lena Luthor who smiles at her with genuine kindness. It crinkles the skin at the corners of Lena’s eyes just slightly, just an utterly captivating smidge. “That’s quite a selection,” she tells Kara, her voice warm with humor. 
Kara blinks at her a few times, and then asks, elegantly, “What?”
Lena gives the books in Kara’s strangling grip a sharply amused glance. Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy for Dummies, Kara discovers when she follows Lena’s gaze, and also Ukulele Exercises, Catholicism, and, perhaps most incriminatingly, Raising Goats. For Dummies, naturally.
“Well,” Kara says. “That certainly paints a picture.” 
Lena is grinning, now. “It looks like you have quite the weekend ahead of you.”
Kara rallies. “Don’t judge,” she chides with a cordial glare. “We all have our own ways to relax and unwind.”
“We do.” Lena’s laugh is melodious. “However I’d argue most of them don’t involve siring baby goats.”
“You would say that,” Kara improvises with a surreptitious look at Lena’s shopping basket, “But I bet your choices are actually more unconventional than mine.” 
When Lena’s cheeks promptly flush a dusky pink, Kara fights the urge to lower her glasses a little and get a closer look — because she’s almost sure that, tucked underneath To Paradise and The Song of Achilles, she just spotted a copy of the very book Kara herself came here to buy.
The very, very sexy, very queer book Kara came here to buy.
(It’s for research.)
(Kara is interviewing the author on Monday.)
(The fact that Kara is also a huge fan of her work is irrelevant.)
Lena deflects Kara’s remark after only a moment’s hesitation. “Kara Danvers,” she drawls, smoothly placing her body between Kara and her intended purchases, “reporter for Catco magazine.” Kara gulps when Lena aims a single severe eyebrow at her, because this woman’s casual nudge a month ago accounts for an easy ninety percent of the reason Kara now holds that position, and she hadn’t held it last time they spoke. Lena chides, sounding scandalized, “Are you asking me about my weekend plans?”
“No!” Kara shouts. “I would never be so forward, or cross that— I mean. Journalistic integrity is—” She flails, just a little, just for a minute or so, and then she blurts, “Is that a copy of T. Mercer’s Tickled Ink I saw in your basket?”
Lena goes very still, her former fluster hidden away behind a flawless mask of cool composure. A flutter of movement in the muscle at the hinge of her jaw is the only indication she hasn’t gone full Nora Fries. This is objectively terrible. Kara has terrified a perfectly adorable Saturday morning Lena Luthor, and now she has anxiety. 
“‘Cause I’m, um,” Kara attempts. She takes a breath. Anything to defrost Lena Luthor, maybe make her smile at her again. “I’m. Actually here for that one, myself.”
Lena’s eyes focus sharply, but her shoulders also ease, like, a millimeter, maybe even a millimeter and a half. “I’m sorry,” she says, and Kara’s already bursting forth to assure her she’s the one who should be apologizing when Lena finishes, flinching, “I think I got the last copy they had.”
Which is, hmm. Inconvenient, Kara wants to file it away as, but in truth it’s a little bit more than that. Because there’s the interview, on Monday. And this is the first in-person interview the author has ever agreed to, after countless emails and under strict order of secrecy regarding her real-life identity, and Kara already feels a kinship with her because of that. And Kara’s read her book, obviously, read all of them, the day they came out in fact, but she doesn’t have a physical copy of this latest one yet, and she’d really like to have the author sign it, maybe even add a little dedication saying Kara is her most persistent fan or something like that.
“Oh,” Kara says.
It gets Lena to soften her posture again, at least. “Are you—” Lena hesitates, seems to need a moment to muster her resolve. “Are you familiar with her work?”
Kara needs a moment too, mainly to stop being distracted by the observation that one of Lena’s eyes seems to be slightly less green than the other so she can choose her next move wisely. Kara can’t tell her the truth, she decides — if she gives away how much she loves the author, she ruins her chances of getting a physical copy before the interview. 
Also Lena may start doubting her journalistic integrity, which, gosh. Kara can’t even stand the thought.
“Yeah,” she says. Lena’s eyebrows rise in question. Not good enough. “I mean, a little?” Kara amends. She sends up a prayer for forgiveness and closes her eyes. “It’s pretty run-of-the-mill escapist fodder, I guess.” 
Lena’s eyes also shutter, behind long, thick lashes. “Oh,” she says. “Right.” They’re a deep inky black, even without her usual makeup. They form a pretty neat contrast with, you know, with the delicate pallor of her cheeks. She gives Kara a stiff little smile. “More of a guilty pleasure, then.” 
“Sure,” Kara says with a miserable sigh, “Her romance arcs are actually a little… trite, you know?” Kara presses her lips together in an effort to keep her bottom lip from wobbling. Okay, that actually hurt to say.
Lena’s hum is unexpectedly shrill. “Trite,” she echoes, the color returning to her cheeks, and good — Kara almost has her where she needs her. Bolstered by Lena’s obvious distaste, Kara breathes out a final volley. 
“Yeah,” she cries, “plus,” she lies, “the characters are—” just say it “one-dimensional, their motivations completely mystifying and ever-changing.” Lena is practically scowling now, fortifying Kara’s breaking heart with hope her betrayal will be worth it, in the end. “It’s also pretty obvious she has no idea how to write a proper ending,” Kara finishes with a whimper, convinced she’s stuck the landing.
Lena folds her arms in front of her body, the gesture only mildly impeded by the shopping basket looped around her wrist. “You sure seem familiar with her work,” she says. “For someone who claims to hate it so much.” 
Kara freezes. “Hmm?”
Lena narrows her eyes at her.
Kara blows out a slow breath through her mouth and sniffs, her eyes still dripping. “You don’t want that book,” she pouts in a childish last-ditch effort.
Lena’s voice is every bit the CEO Kara had first faced safely ensconced in her cousin’s shadow. “And why is that?”
“It’s, well—” Kara clears the remaining phlegm from her throat. “It’s not… for you. Trust me.”
Lena huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “You barely know me.”
“Well.” Kara takes a breath, searching the ceiling for her next clue. Gotcha! “I know you’re not gay.”
Lena’s mouth and eyebrows all curve in different directions, a face journey so fascinating Kara just stares at it for a couple of beats. Her features eventually settle in an expression that reads as— comical derision? Kara isn’t sure, it’s so complex. Lena Luthor is a very complex woman. “I mean.” Kara panics. “Are you?”
Lena opens her mouth and blinks a few times before actual words come out. “I suppose that depends,” she finally says. 
Kara’s terrified to ask, but also she absolutely has to know the answer. “On what?”
There’s that severe eyebrow again. “On whether we’re on the record yet,” Lena says simply.
Kara’s stomach lurches. “No,” she says. “Listen.” She tugs at her collar, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the supersuit beneath her button-down. “I’m here on my day off,” she assures her. “I’m not— and. ‘Yet?’ We don’t have, like, anything scheduled, or—”
“Don’t we?” Lena interrupts her tailspin. Kara watches her, uncomprehending, as Lena fishes the copy of Tickled Ink from her shopping basket before setting it gently down on the floor. “Can I borrow that pen?” She gestures elegant fingers at Kara’s breast pocket and the pen is in Lena’s hand before Kara remembers she’s not supposed to use superspeed when she’s in her civvies. 
Lena blinks between Kara’s position a respectful couple of feet away and the pen in her hand for a couple of seconds before she starts flicking graceful strokes of ink onto the title page. “Seems like we both have some introductions to make,” she muses, and then she angles the book so Kara can read what she’s written.
Kara stares at the inscription.
Tess Mercer, it says, in a pleasing, loopy script, echoing the name of the author printed just below it. And above, To my dear friend and most oblivious fan,
“Should I make it out to Kara Danvers?” Lena asks, eyeing the collar of Kara’s shirt where Kara has been tugging at it. “Or to Supergirl?”
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“For me?” Kara asks, already blushing under Lena’s fixed attention and the color of her voice. 
When they eventually sit down for that interview two days later, opting for lunch at a cozy café, Lena’s fingers find Kara’s own when she discloses she’d been meaning to buy the book for Kara all along, reminding Kara one of her emails had mentioned she owned only a digital copy. 
“I’ve always preferred a good paperback, myself,” Lena tells Kara with a wolfish grin, sliding a wrapped gift across the table between them.
Flirting is the title. For Dummies.
“Oh yes,” Lena croons.
Kara swallows when she tears the paper to reveal a lurid yellow cover.
“Figured it might come in handy,” Lena says before taking a big, toothy bite. “You know." She winks. "For your big interview.”
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bi-halobearer · 2 months
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kal8elle · 13 days
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By https://albi9.lofter.com
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cardcaptorsakura96 · 29 days
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fansiesmemes · 7 days
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Jack: It’s like riding a bike
Jack: Or severe childhood trauma
Jack: You never really lose it
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sprqpointintern · 2 years
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kara every time she acts incredibly gay around lena
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charopinhozelador · 7 months
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magnificent-dragons · 2 years
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Deleted supergirl scene they really should’ve left this one in smh
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