supercorp fanfic recs

A few days back on AO3 I found an unfinished, two chapter spideypool fanfic that was cute and had lots of potential and was also last updated two years ago. Two whole years! And it had only three comments, all of which on chapter one, none on chapter two. I enjoyed the fanfic, despite it being far, FAR from being finished and the chance of it ever updating again anytime soon was just about zero. So you know what I did?

I wrote a damn comment. On chapter two.

And I made sure that fucker was long and had a small theory of where I think the author would take the fanfic in the future. I let the person behind the fic know that I friggin LOVED the two chapters I got to read! That I would LOVE to see more! That I’d jump out of my skin in happiness and virtually hug them half to death if I saw that they updated it.

Let me remind you this fic wasn’t updated in two YEARS! I was the first to comment on it in a year. And the first to comment on chapter two! And you know what happened today?

I got a reply.

From the author of the fanfic. And the author said how I gave them life for a project they had loved (still did) and that they were now working on a third chapter. After two YEARS of not updating. Of not writing. And it makes me so friggin happy seeing what I did. What I caused.

With a single. Damn. Comment.

All that it took for me was to think a bit about what I wanted to tell the author and the comment it. All it took was one comment. And suddenly this person was inspired to continue a fanfic they had abandoned for TWO YEARS!!

I couldn’t be happier. I couldn’t be more proud.

lena catches kara out on her balcony the second night she sleeps over. she wakes to an empty bed, the hint of a chill, and she can just barely make out kara’s silhouette against the glow of the moon. so she grabs a sweatshirt from the pile on her dresser, pads outside

kara looks down when lena gets outside, but she doesn’t look at her. instead, she stares at her hands, gripping the metal of the railing. lena does not speak, just stands close enough to barely brush against kara’s side

i can see it, kara says finally. she does not have to explain any further; lena knows she speaks of krypton. where? lena says, and it takes a moment, but kara uncurls her fingers, raises her arm to point to the sky

there. right there. the faint one

they don’t talk about it the next day, or any day after that, but it becomes a ritual: when the weight of the world becomes too much, when she cannot sleep, kara will make her way out to the balcony. and every time, lena will soon follow

most of the time, kara talks, tells lena bits and pieces about krypton, as much as she is willing to, which is most often almost nothing at all. sometimes, lena speaks, draws out shape in the air: here is andromeda, and there’s perseus—— 

it is interesting how similar some of the stories are, how universal these truths seem to be. or maybe it isn’t interesting at all, for when lena looks over to see kara, wide-eyed, staring up at the sky, she understands why every planet, every civilization, feels the need to immortalize this feeling in the stars

kara has a bad week, saving the city from one attack after another, and she spends most nights at the deo, being patched up, laying under the light of an artificial sun

she shows up at lena’s apartment as soon as she is released, barely making it through the door before slumping into lena’s waiting embrace. before you pass out, lena laughs, i have something to show you

on her balcony is a telescope, pointed in a direction kara knows all too well. she stops short, looks at lena

i have it on good authority that the zoom is even better than supervision, lena says; kara hears i love you

kara stumbles through words, a blur of you didn’t have to, oh, lena, i don’t know what to say, i— before lena cuts her off with a finger on her lips. i wanted to. i want you to tell me everything. i want to help you keep krypton alive

the past week, the hours floating by with that ever-present fear (what if this is it, what if this is the one time kara gets hurt for real, for good) have weighed heavily on lena. this–this action, this gesture, this truth–is the only way she knows how to admit to it, admit how much she fears losing kara, how much she fears keeping her

again, all kara can hear is i love you, i love you. so, she says it, reverently, quietly–like all the times she has spoken so fondly about the stars above, she says i love you, and this time she looks only at lena

(the response: i love you too, kara zor-el)

and though both are heavy with exhaustion, they do not sleep that night. instead, kara tells lena all of it, tells her about her past, her home. how sometimes she misses it so much that she does not know how to do anything but scream, squeeze her eyes shut and block out the reality of gone, gone, krypton is gone. 

Lena just wanted a nice night out with Kara.

“Would you like to go on a date?”

It slips out. Quiet and rushed, the words forming and letting loose before she can think anything other than please say yes. Kara freezes, noodles halfway to her mouth as she looks between them, and Lena almost takes them back.

(They’ve been doing this- meetings under the guise of interviews, the latest on L-Corp- for weeks.

Somewhere, between hands brushing just so as they pass food back and forth, it’s become featherlight kisses on the corner of her mouth when Kara leaves, promises to call when the other is free and texting whenever they can.

Somewhere, Kara has went from her only friend in National City to something. Something that makes her heart race with possibility and ache with the thought of its loss if she pushes.)