#maybe one of these days i’ll break down kara and clark’s relationship through the main timelines

[karaspal]

i find it kind of funny every time someone brings up clark leaving kara in an orphanage as a source drama and angst™ and how kara should still hate him for it (even if that hasn’t been canon since pre-crisis), when in reality 1) it was during the silver age where you shouldn’t take everything at heart and 2) by the end of kara’s initial action comics run, not only did she get adopted by a loving family, she also found out her bio parents were alive. she literally had two full sets of parents. she was fine, guys. and she had a genuinely good relationship with clark.

[danny-chase]

Big Brother instinct, Dick and either Cass, Gar, Danny Chase, Steph, Kara, Rose, or anyone else u want

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Dick grayson centric, Fire, Burns, hair styling, Ice Cream, Hurt/Comfort, Late Nights, Fluff and Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Missions Gone Wrong, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings Series: Part 11 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick talks with Cass after a mission doesn't go as planned.

Fic under cut

“Argh!” Dick snaps back to attention as Bruce’s angry grunt rattles through the cave. The few bats still in for the night stir, their wings rustling in the distance. An avalanche of papers fly off of Bruce’s desk, and his grizzled form slumps forward, hands firmly planted on the table. His shoulders sag under some unknown strain; as if he’s carrying the weight of the sky.

“Hmm.” Dick blinks back another wave of exhaustion, he’s not working on a case – but Bruce is – and company always makes working more fun. Besides, Bruce is on a time limit and Alfred can’t stop him from escaping his room. So. Here he is. He took an oath - it’s his job to help.

Dick’s eleven and Bruce’s a pillar of reassurance – a precariously stacked pile of rocks constantly on the verge of crumbling. He has no idea how to pick up the pieces. No idea how to seal the cracks. “Bruce?” He mumbles, swinging his legs off his spinny chair. Bruce doesn’t look up, his mouth drawn in a tight line. The ghost of tears well in his eyes. Not good.

Dick scoots off the chair, lightheaded for a moment. He shakes the stars out of his eyes, nodding back and forth, up and down, like Bruce does when he’s sleepy. It’s late. He has school tomorrow. Not that it matters. Bruce will let him skip if he asks the right way. He jogs in place for a few seconds, readying himself, warming up his muscles.

There’s not much he can do to help, but he can at least put on a little show. He runs forward launching into a cartwheel, picking up the papers as he goes – Bruce likes his tricks, sometimes they even make him laugh, sometimes –

Bruce snags his ankle out of the air, his quick reflexes saving Dick from crashing into the edge of a counter. He finds himself hanging, the world stuck upside down as his hands dangle inches from the floor. “Thanks.” He looks up at Bruce’s weary face.

A yawn escapes his lips, and the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch. “I’m going to have to child-proof the cave at this rate.” He tries for humor but it falls flat, his hearts not in it all.

He stares up, sticking his tongue out. Bruce’s frown doesn’t fade. “Are you okay?” He asks. Bruce’s hands fumble, and Dick swings dangerously low to the floor before he’s recovered. Not willing to take the chance again, he curls up, grabbing Bruce’s forearms and pulls himself up through his arms, settling himself on sturdy shoulders.

Bruce drops his feet. “I’m fine. Why would ask that?” He sounds almost hurt and Dick’s too tired to figure out why.

He slides down easily, Bruce gently deposits him on the floor. “You looked sad.” A yawn leaves his mouth without permission, he stumbles slightly, and a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He reaches back up, and Bruce throws him up against his shoulder, wrapping him in a hug.

Dick yawns contently, his eyelids fluttering without his permission, as Bruce starts walking towards the stairs. “I’m sorry…” The arm around his back pulls him a bit tighter. “I’m just not enough.” A shaking hand combs through his hair and Dick squeezes back because he doesn’t know what to say.

Bruce grunts as he takes a step up the stairs. “Sleep on it?” Dick suggests, resting his eyes for just a moment.

“Mmhmm. It’s bedtime.” Dick’s half asleep by the time they reach the top. He’s not sure he hears Bruce whisper, “You’re a great kid, chum.”

It took Dick years before he really understood the feeling. And even more years before he made the connection that that was how Bruce had felt on late nights spent scouring for clues that just didn’t seem to exist, having worked for days straight on three hours of sleep, and watching Gotham send all of it up in flames setting you back months on an investigation.

He’s learned there’s nights it’s impossible to save everyone – hell, he’s seen Clark get his ass kicked, and Clark’s damn near close to god. Dick would know – the Titans have fought their namesake. But the Titans have fought humans and lost despite half their members being godlike, and besides that most days now he’s alone. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, how much he plans, how prepared he is; sometimes things just go to hell and a handbasket and there’s nothing he can physically do to prevent it.

Most of the time, he’s fine with that. It’s fine he has limits. Logically, he knows he can’t be expected to everything. Logically, he knows it’s a waste of time to worry about it. Logically, he knows it’s okay to take a night off, watch a nature documentary, invite a friend over, stay in and spend the night simply existing.

But it feels like he could be doing more – should be doing more. He feels that restlessness overtake him, and springs to his feet “Bruce I-”

Bruce gives him his patented bat-glare from where he’s sitting, looking up from a familiar pile of papers. Once it would have intimidated him into sitting back down. Now he just returns it with a patented one of his own. “-I think I’ll suit up and head out for the night, Tim could probably use some back up with-”

“Dick.” There’s this exasperated tone that Bruce can only ever seem to muster when saying his name. He pauses for a just a second, his eyes flickering down to Bruce’s clenched fists and tight shoulders. “Let me handle it.” It comes out as an order, but reading between the lines, it’s a plea.

Bruce would never admit it out loud, worry practically bleeds out of the man. Guilt gnaws on the inside of his chest, though, he’s not sure what it’s even from; the guilt of making Bruce worry or the guilt of being a useless sack of broken and bruised ribs while people need Nightwing’s help. Being benched sucks, but he knows enough to compromise. “Let me run the comms? Babs could use a night off.” She sleeps less than him and Bruce knows it.

The gray streaks in Bruce’s hair stand out all the more as he lets out a bone deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes – he doesn’t get to do this right now. “You literally let me go out last night I don’t understand why-”

“Last night was an emergency. I didn’t have a choice.” His frown widens, his face etched in an eternal look of pain, mixed with disproval. “Two nights ago… you almost…” His mouth seals itself shut, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. It’s Bruce that breaks the gaze first. “Run the comms, don’t overexert yourself. It should be a quiet night…” He stands, hesitates before walking off “And get to bed early.”

Dick bites back a laugh, Bruce hasn’t talked to him like that since he was thirteen. “Alright.” He resists the urge to poke fun, and follows Bruce through the passage behind the grandfather clock.

“So Ives was talking about the Pirates of the Caribbean movie with me the other day, and we might go see it this weekend if I have the time. Gee- I can’t remember the last time I saw movie in theaters or even really hung out with him.” Tim’s endless chatter helps him stay awake in the dimly lit cave. His throbbing ribs help too, maybe he shouldn’t have tried doing push-ups. “Dad and Dana want to drop me off, but Ives has a car now, though dad’s still worried cuz of the time some wacko tried to stop us at a traffic light.”

Dick hums, a smile creeping its way up his face. “I can drop you off if it’s an issue.”

“Really?! That’d be awesome, you could stay for the movie if you wanted to, but I don’t know if you’d like it, I mean are pirates really your thing? I always figured you’d be more into Vikings or probably aliens actually, or something like-” A red light flashes on the screen, and Dick snaps to attention.

“Hold that thought.” Tim’s chatter ceases immediately as Dick furiously types on the terminal. He punches into the main line. “Batgirl how fast can you get to the corner of 16th and Murphy’s Ave, there’s a building on fire and you’re the only one anywhere near the Upper East Side.” A 911 operator calms down a hysterical woman in his left ear, Cass asking direction in the right.

He pulls up a map. “I-I can’t find a way out!” The woman shrieks. “I don’t know what happened, I was sleeping and-” she breaks off into raspy hacks.

“Go straight, turn right after three blocks down.” Dick winces, as the lady continues chocking on smoke. “C’mon Cass. Get there.” He mutters off the line. He eyes his cycle sitting idly in the bay – he’s twenty minutes out; Cass needs backup. He opens up another line. “Batman I need you to follow Batgirl, what’s your eta?”

Bruce grunts back, he hears thudding over the line. “Fifteen minutes.” The woman screams in his other ear, he yanks the earbud out as a massive bang nearly blows out his eardrum. Picking it back up, he can’t hear the woman anymore, only the roar of flames and falling debris.

“Shit.” He pulls up video from a street camera. “Shit.” The building’s collapsing in on itself. “Permission to call the league?” He clicks through to their line of communications, his finger hovering over the button.

“Here.” Cass scrambles into view, bursting through a window. Shit.

Bruce learned his limits long ago. Dick’s finally settling into his. Cass? They simply don’t register on her radar. The buildings coming down in mere minutes; she’s going to get killed.

“What’s the situation?” Bruce yells in his ear.

“Batgirl get out of there!” He screams at Cass. She’s going to die – the building’s not stable, and he’s the one that sent her there. “Make it five minutes – the building’s coming down.” He yells to Bruce. “Batgirl!” He watches a few windows blow out. A firetruck careens down the street.

“Permission granted.” Bruce huffs and Dick can’t click the button fast enough.

A couple more windows blow out, and the building seems to lean to the side. Finally he sees Cass climb back out a window, holding a couple kids in her arms as she leaps to the ground. “BATGIRL GET THEM CLEAR!” His heart pounds in his throat as she runs forwards, the building groaning behind her, crumbling to the side. Chaos erupts, chunks of flaming debris cascading from the top of the building, as the second floor merges with the first.

Dick blinks, his mouth dry. “There’s more people-” he can’t hear Cass over the ensuing cacophony as he watches the building topple to the ground. “NO!” He faintly hears her scream as the screen erupts in static.

Dick slams his fists on the desk. His chest constricts painfully. “Nightwing. Report.” Bruce’s steady voice reminds him to breathe. His chest spasms. Shit. “Nightwing!” Bruce demands as he tries to catch his breath.

“Building collapsed.” He manages to get out. “One sec.” He takes a few deep breaths, leaning back in the chair for support. “Batgirl report.” He’s greeted with silence. “Batgirl, please, if you’re there I need you to respond.”

“I…” Cass trials off. Dick sighs in relief. “I’m sorry.” The line cuts off. Well. Shit.

“Nightwing! I’m headed to the location.” Bruce squawks. Dick sighs.

“It’s going to be a long night. Search and rescue, I’ll call in backup.” Shit. So much for an early bedtime.

“Hey.” Someone shakes his shoulder. He makes a grab for their wrist and misses, his mind processing where the hell he is. He blinks a few times.

“Cass?” Her hair’s plastered to the side of her head and she’s covered in soot. Nicks, rips, and tears decorate her costume. Dick wipes his eyes as the ashy smell of smoke overwhelms his senses. Cass takes a few steps back, heading towards the locker room. “Wait.” He had something to say to her, his mind racing to catch up.

She hops up onto a counter. His mind shuffles through the events earlier in the night. “Bruce sent you back?” Cass nods glumly. The rescue efforts weren’t going well when he dozed off. The JLA sent in everyone they could spare; there’s nothing they can do anymore. Not that Bruce won’t try.

Cass’s lips are sealed. There’s a haunting expression in her eyes, her shoulders slump forward, her hands firmly plant themselves on the counter for support.

And his friends think he’s too much like Bruce.

“Hey.” He starts. She gives him a weary look, tears welling in her eyes. Well, maybe not exactly like Bruce. “Look, I’m sorry I put you in that position.” Cass shakes her head. “Sometimes things like this happen. I should have-”

“Stop.” Cass pulls her feet up on the counter, getting dust everywhere. “I should have been faster.” She swallows, refusing to let the tears spill over. “My fault.”

Dick watches as she glides off the counter, yanking off her gloves and dropping them on the floor. Burn marks dot her hands and the edges of her hair are singed. “You did everything you could.” She hesitates, before taking a step towards the showers.

“Not enough.” She mutters before storming off, leaving a trail of soot in her wake.

He stands up. “Cass.” The lock snaps shut with a click as she slips into the bathroom. Leaving Dick in an empty cave once more.

By the time he returns downstairs, Cass is already out of the shower, looking displeased. “You took my clothes.” She notes unhappily, a pale pink towel tucked tightly around her shoulders.

Dick watches water drip down from her hair, pattering on the floor. The trail leading back to the bathroom is now mixed with water and soot. Alfred’s going to be pissed. “I took your costume.” He clarifies. “And I brought you clothes.” He gestures towards the open door.

Cass scowls, planting her feet defiantly. “I’m going out.” She reaches out a hand. Dick shrugs – there’s no way she can find where he hid her filthy suit before they get a chance to wash it.

It’s all too familiar, reading the lines across her brow, watching her shoulders slump when she stills, and scanning red rimmed eyes. “What are you going to do like that?” He points out, Cass angrily storming towards him. “You’re tired, you’ll just end up being in the way.” He dodges left as a fist flies past his face. “You would have hit if I wasn’t right.” She’s faster than him on his best days.

She glares at him with pursed lips, staring before turning on her heel and storming off towards the bathroom. The door slams behind her, triggering the rustling of far away wings.

Dick sighs – he hopes he wasn’t this temperamental when he lived with Bruce. “Come up to the kitchen when you’re done, I need your help with something.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue, though he feels a twinge of guilt as Cass groans behind closed doors.

Cass’s eyes widen as she enters the room. Dick offers a smile as she edges closer to the table. He tosses a spoon, she snags it out of the air. “Dig in.” There’s a carton of chocolate ice cream – double chocolate chunk brownie sundae with hot fudge and chocolate sprinkles to be precise – and tons of candy. It’s not stuff Bruce keeps around, but Dick’s has a stash at Tim’s house reserved for movie nights. He’ll restock later.

Cass vigorously stabs the ice cream with her spoon, a smile dancing across her face as she takes a few bites. She pauses, sticking the spoon back in the cartoon, looking up with a confused expression. “Why?” She’s wearing fluffy pajama bottoms, fuzzy socks, and an old worn college sweatshirt that’s frayed at the hems. Dick can almost pretend he’s back, talking to Donna after she broke up with Roy their sophomore year of high school.

She’s watching Dick carefully. He hums casually. “You had a rough night.” This is what the Titans always did. She shrugs.

“Things happen.” She shovels a few more bites into her mouth. “I want to go out.” It’s hard for Dick to find her tough and grizzled when she’s guzzling gummi worms, kicking her feet back and forth on the stool.

“Consider this a reason to stay in.” She gives him a sideways glance. “You did as much as you can, that’s enough.” Cass looks pointedly at her ice cream, not hesitating before diving back into it.

“Spar with me?” She licks a skittle before sticking it in her mouth.

Dick snorts. “If I don’t have a heart attack, I think Bruce would.” She snaps up to attention, grabbing his wrist and quickly finding his pulse point. “I’m fine, Cass.” Her hands are freezing. He places one of his on top of hers. “If you weren’t there I wouldn’t have been.” He says quietly, catching her eye. “Thank you.” She pulls back as if burned, quickly busying herself with the candy. He waits a moment before adding, “I think those kids you saved are grateful too.”

Cass throws a bag of M&M’s at him, he’s a second too slow and it pelts him in the face. “Noted.” He grins. “Uh, also, I’m going to have to do something with your hair.”

“What.”

“Cass, hold still.” She immediately stops squirming under his hands. “Thanks.” She hums back, tucked under an old blanket that never seems to leave the back of the couch. Bruce still isn’t here, but Tim checked in after his stakeout, and headed home a half an hour ago. He snips away another lock of burnt hair, tossing it into a trash can next to him.

He rests his forearms on the back of the sofa, contemplating which section of her hair to start with next. “You find one you like yet?” He asks, peeking over her shoulder at the images of hairstyles.

“Uhh.” She scrolls a bit more. “I don’t care.” She tosses the phone up to the top of the couch.

“Mmm.” He didn’t expect much else. Donna texted him a picture earlier to copy – something easy to pull back but still stylish. He attacks the next section, carefully brushing out the tangles, starting bottom to the top. He’s oddly grateful for all those times he did Donna and Kory’s hair.

‘Practice for when Bruce finally adopts a girl.’ They used to tease. ‘You’ll have a real sister, and if his track record holds she’ll have black hair and blue eyes.’ He’s never lived the irony down. Though, Cass’s eyes are a beautiful warm brown, so Donna and Kory can take that.

“You know.” He keeps his tone light. “Most hairdressers and their clients talk.” Cass remains set in stony silence. “Though I guess most people go to a salon to get their hair cut.” He just visits Joey. “Some people say it’s like free therapy.”

“You talk a lot.” Cass notes. He pulls up doodle jump on his phone and passes it back to her. She plays a couple rounds before the phone’s placed back beside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He already knows the answer, but still asks all the same.

“No.” Bruce never wanted to either. Barbara used to talk to him… before he left for the Titans and took years to look back. Though he likes to dream otherwise, he knows there’ll come a day when Tim won’t want to talk to him anymore either.

It doesn’t get any easier being shut out. “That’s alright. If you change your mind I’m here.” He grabs the shears, snipping away another dead end.

“Thanks.”

“Dick.” A hiss awakes him, light following soon after. He squints, turning away to bury his face in a cushion. “Where’s Cassandra?”

He turns, eyes snapping open as he quickly scans the sofa. The blanket hangs off the edge, Cass nowhere to be seen. One of her custom batarangs sticks out of his armchair’s armrest, a few inches from his hand. “She must have found her costume.” He notes, glancing towards the pajamas crumpled in the doorway. His eyes meet Bruce’s as he lets out a tired sigh.

His hair’s dripping, fresh from a shower, and it’s singed at the edges. Dick nods towards the sheers on the coffee table. “Tomorrow.” Bruce decides, crossing the room, picking up the blanket as he goes. Dick pushes down the footrest, slowly rising to his feet. His ribs twinge at every move, in hindsight, falling asleep hanging off the side of an armchair wasn’t his best idea. Bruce hovers closer than normal, watching carefully, worry lines set in concern. “Bed.”

Dick’s too tired to argue. “Bed.” He agrees. And though Bruce doesn’t carry him, he accompanies him up the stairs.

[theragamuffininitiative]

@amerraka replied to your post: I hate watching Supergirl. But I am in love with...                

   Why do you hate it?   

Whoo-boy, where to start.

Okay, so if you are reading this as a fan of the show, don’t hate me. I don’t hate you. I don’t judge you for liking Supergirl. The show has its merits. But as a fan of Film in general, and as a writer, I have....a lot of problems with this show.

So, in no particular order:

Melodrama: It has a lot of it. Not nearly half as much as its older brother Arrow, or even the awkward-but-beloved middle-child of The Flash. But Supergirl is not without its angst, emotional roller-coasters that are terrible plot devices, and people just going off to do their own things because “This Is What I Have To Do.” There are sooooooooo many examples, but let’s go with the one that is freshest in mind. To be fair, I just watched the last aired episode, so obviously I don’t hate it that much, but if you haven’t seen the episode The Martian Chronicles, don’t read the rest of this bullet, because spoilers: Near the end, as the nuclear reactor is going berserk and they’ve just discovered the White Martian has disguised itself as Winn (my poor child), both Kara with who we believe at the time to be Alex, and J’onn (my beloved Space Dad) with M’gann take a moment - or five - to have a Deep Heartfelt Conversation. In...in the middle of a freakin’ attack. Just...guys...you can do this later. And, as much as I adore Space Dad, the Martian Manhunter is among the drama queens of this serial. Often the guy who gets stuck in the middle of a tense and fast-paced situation because of emotional issues. He has plenty of reason for these, but he is the Martian Manhunter, not to mention the leader of the DEO. As a functioning agent and a functioning character, he needs to be able to set things aside and accomplish the mission. I’m sorry, but you cannot have characters have extremely long and drawn out, emotional dialogues when the world is suddenly going to pot. Again, this is only one example. I could find more, but it’s a good one, so I’ll leave this there.

Quickchanges. Supergirl morphs into her supersuit without any conceivable ability to do so. Someone is falling down an elevator? Go after her, Kara, but for heaven’s sake, make sure you change, mid-flight on the way down. And, I mean, how does her cape and boots and skirt fit underneath her regular outfit anyway? I understand this is a comic book story, and if it wasn’t so blatant, I might let this slide on that merit alone. But, good grief, at least DC usually gave Clark a telephone booth.

Personal note: No one takes care of Winn. LOL this doesn’t really count as a point, but you asked why I hate the show, and this is a reason. Winn, your normal average nerdy guy, goes through so much crap in this show and barely gets the occasional “are you ok” from his compatriots. Kara has utterly ceased showing concern for him since S1 - except when she’s generally unhappy about his team-up with Guardian. And his relationship with James is pretty much one of clinical manipulation, with James only coming to Winn in friendship when Winn has something to offer him. (Don’t get me wrong, I like James, I just need him to stop being such a jerk?) Also, although not every time, Winn remains one of the few voices of reason on this show: He tells James not to be Guardian for a long time before agreeing to help (and even then, only under the outspoken mentality of “I’m doing this because if you do it alone you have an even higher chance of getting hurt”). He does an admirable job of trying to teach/maintain Mon-el at the beginning. He is constantly trying to tell Kara not to go off and do stupid risky things. But does anyone listen? Nope, and it does usually backfire on them. But that is totally just because I’m in love with that particular character, I don’t care if anyone else feels the same way as I do on that one. ;) Winn needs friends who will listen to him, take care of him, and maybe occasionally give him a hug or a break. That’s all.

Relationship Status: super or unsuper or just unsurprising. Kara’s little flirts an flames have been near the forefront of the show since its beginning, and in the early days they were marginally decent at keeping those in check. But as the show progresses, it becomes more and more obvious that her dating dramas are the driving plot points of the whole thing. From James to Mon-El to the little off-shoots in-between, Kara Danvers really needs a solid boyfriend and fewer hormonal issues that take away from her character by instead portraying her as a hopeless romantic who is more concerned with who will take her to prom than who is trying to nuke the universe. I get that part of the show is about her trying to balance Kara Danvers with Supergirl. I applaud that. But guess what, tv execs and writers? There is more to what drives an individual on a daily basis than who they want to sleep with, and to be frank, that stuff is boring anyhow. Kara’s breakup with James? Didn’t shock me, and therefore didn’t impact me as a viewer. I just shook my head and fast-forwarded. What I would like to see out of this show is Kara balancing a healthy, long-lasting relationship with her super-self, or else not being all that concerned about it at all. I’m so tired of cheap romances on television, and Supergirl, for all of its feminist leanings, is no different.

They took out Cat. Cat was one of the best, most well-functioning and well-developed characters on the show, played by arguably one of the best actors in the entire cast. Idk if this was an issue of contract conflict or Harrison Ford’s wife just didn’t want to be on the show anymore, or if writing her off was some executive decision in order to make Kara’s character grow. While I definitely accept that the latter happened, I’m still unhappy about it.

Oh, and the cool map-orb thing on Kyrpton was a complete rip-off from my favorite Disney movie Treasure Planet. I’m not forgiving that cheap shot easily.

The actual film-making/writing of the show itself. This is actually the biggest one. I could devote an entire post to this point. It is so lazy and inconsistent, it’s painful. I’m just gonna give a few examples on this, because if I allow myself to, as a student of film, I will never stop. 

1. It is always snowing inside the Fortress of Solitude - idk, maybe this is in the comics? But there is enough snow inside Superman’s top secret sanctuary that Kara sees footprints in it, and there are always flurries dancing about there too. Like. Why. How? I mean, I know Clark is the kind of guy to just leave his front door key out in the open, but how secure is a sanctum where it is apparently completely exposed to the weather?

2. Switching tracts, you know how when the episodes go to the DEO, they often show the outside of the base, with like some tanks busing in and stuff? Look more closely next time, that’s the same footage, just edited slightly to reflect night or day. It is always the same tanks rolling up from the exact same angle. Every time. I’m sorry, that’s just lazy film work right there. You could have shot that scene just two more times and added those to the repertoire and it would have still been Bad, but at least it might have been a little less Noticeable. 

3. Characters not reacting physically how they should. James gets electrocuted? Walks it off looking mildly indignant. Winn is almost choked to death? Jumps up and make a funny quip. Supergirl can take down literally anyone but somehow still gets punched across the room on multiple occasions?

4. Oh, yeah, did I mention: Characters Having Dramatic Conversations Mid-Battle? This is a pet peeve of mine anyway, but holy cow, does Supergirl know how to use that trope to its most frustrating potential. No. One. Does. That. Deal with the situation. Then have the characters talk about what they need to talk about. Or, better yet, have your characters be people who actually talk to one another, and have the issues dealt with beforehand. This is yet another example of lazy writing and an unmasked attempt to achieve two things: establish emotional conflict with the characters, often in the form of anger or general angst, and/or make sure the dialogue you want to deliver doesn’t fall flat or boring. If you can’t find a way for your characters to discuss important, emotional things without making them take a pause in a life-or-death situation to do so, then you really need to work on your craft, folks.

I could go on. There is a lot about the show I’m personally unhappy with as far as quality writing, style, character development, themes, and etc; but I think that is more than enough to complain about for now. I don’t like to complain. But the errors, inconsistencies, and general laziness of the show do irk me. And, well, you did ask. So there it is.

Now, on a happier note: Some things I like/appreciate about the show:

Winn Schott, Actual Ray of Sunshine. I know, I know, moving right along...

The cinematography, as a general rule, isn’t awful. There have actually been some really solid, and occasionally unique choices as far as camera placement, movement, and visual editing are concerned. From a visual standpoint, the show is quite pretty and has a really good, vibrant color palette. In that regard, it is a pleasure to watch.

J’onn is Space Dad and I will always love him.

Kara is a beautiful, chipper, quality gal and brings such light and life to the story. I may complain about her, but she’s actually not a bad lead. And that is saying something coming from someone who really never likes main characters and completely goes for the sidekicks anyhow.

It is, as I said, a crap-ton happier than Arrow or even The Flash. Like. People smile and joke and laugh in this show. ??? I didn’t know that was possible. And, despite their drama and issues, not everyone is a back-stabbing, secretive, lying, manipulative, egotistical, brood-in-the-literal-corner-when-I-don’t-get-my-way moron. At least not all the time. I can actually smile watching this show.

I done now.