Oh my gosh, Anon, I can. I so can!
************************
Detective Kara Danvers stared at the security screens intently. Despite the fact that she’d been in the cramped guard station for over three hours, her focus was still razor sharp. She could only hope that her hunch paid off.
Displayed on the screens was an elaborate ruse. A case of high end jewelry was prominently placed near the front of National City’s most prestigious jewelry store. Kara was hoping it would prove too great a temptation for the masked thief that had been frequenting the city’s best stocked jewel inventories.
Tag: supercat
Supercat: Cat must help a dying Kara after she is stabbed with a kryptonite knife when she was protecting Cat (happy ending ofc).
Honestly, Kara is going to kill Cat one of these days.
(Okay, so the wince she made at even thinking that meant it probably wasn’t going to happen, but still. The woman is tiny and distressingly human, and yet she insists on provoking her enemies as if she has Kara’s invulnerability. And after the third time she’d had to save Cat from said enemies, Kara had been getting tired of it.)
On one hand she gets it. Cat’s greatest weapons are her words, and she wields them without hesitation. And angry people make mistakes, overlook the facts of a situation, and generally don’t think clearly enough to win. Especially when faced with a superpowered Kryptonian with a personal stake in the fight.
Paper Plates
Big thanks to @fourtseven for listening to me complain about my writers block (though she’s polite enough to call it expressing frustration).
It’s on their fifth date that Cat finds herself in Kara’s apartment. She’s pressed up against the door before it even closes, her head thrown back, but what she’s managed to see is homey. Not Architectural Digest, but it has appeal. Bright and charming, like Kara.
In the morning, wrapped in nothing but Supergirl’s cape, and light pouring through the large windows, Cat gets a better look. Everything is just so Kara. She can’t find another suitable word, despite her ample vocabulary. There really isn’t one. It’s messy but clean. Like Kara’s desk after lunch. Things, and there are many, fill shelves and cabinets. Cat smiles as she looks over Kara’s eclectic collection of knick knacks, before she heads to the kitchen.
Things are just as diverse in the cupboards, Cat notes as she searches for coffee. No plate, no bowl the same. The mugs are all different, like the chairs around the table. Like all the furniture, Cat realizes as she looks around. Nothing matches, and everything has been painted, touched up. Cat notices the gauges in the wooden top of the island, the chips taken out of the laminate countertop. The coffeemaker looks about twenty years old, the toaster too. Does she pay Kara so little that the girl has to buy everything second hand?
“Machine’s broke. I bro- I’ll have to fly out, if you want coffee.”
Cat turns, pulled from her ruminations by Kara’s sleepy voice, and can’t help but smile at the sight of Supergirl in pajamas, and fuzzy socks.
“I’ll need my cape back though.”
Cat smirks, letting the cape drop slightly, exposing her shoulder as she strides towards her girl. Cat Grant doesn’t need heels to strut. “You’ll have to take it off me.”
Kara pulls her close, when she’s within reach. “Don’t start. I know how you get without coffee. I can go out.”
Cat shakes her head, and let’s the cape fall. “I can think of a few things that are just as stimulating.”
Cat makes a few calls Monday, and is assured by Brenda in human resources, that Kara Danvers might just be the best paid personal assistant on Earth.
A month later, Cat starts to notice the chips and cracks. They’re small, but her penthouse, Carter’s room and the den aside, is immaculate, and the now roughened corner of the marble counter top is glaringly obvious. So are the scratches on her plates, and the cracked tile in the bathroom. And with a sigh she realizes why Kara’s things are second hand. Because Supergirl can bend steel, and crush cement, with little effort. What chance did a coffeemaker have? Why have new things, when they need to be constantly replaced.
So she never mentions it. She’s not sure Kara realizes it’s happening. Cat watches how careful Kara is when she’s at the penthouse. How deliberate all her movements are. Cat had assumed it was nerves before, but as she looks at Kara across the dining room table, and watches how gingerly she cuts up her dinner, how slowly she pushes in her chair, how her shoulders never seem to relax even when she’s playing Nintendo with Carter. Supergirl can’t just smash the buttons when she’s losing.
“I can bring some of my dishes from home,” Kara says, a week later as she helps load the dishwasher. Cat pauses, a scratched plate in her hand, looking up as Kara looks away. “I keep scratching yours. They’re expensive,” Kara rushes out, still staring at the floor. “Or you could get me paper plates maybe? I’m okay with that. I bent all of Eliza’s cutlery, before they got me a set of plastic ones. I don’t want to keep breaking your things. I’m trying not to. Sometimes I just…forget. Forget that I’m an alien. It use to just happen at home, but now I forget here, and I don’t- I don’t want to break your things.”
Cat sets the plate aside, drying her hands and taking Kara’s face between them. “I forget you’re an alien sometimes too. I wake up in your arms, and I watch you with Carter, and there’s nothing alien about it. Except you. And when I see a broken tile, or a chipped mug, because somehow you always manage to knock your cups against your teeth,” Cat says with a soft smile, running her thumbs over Kara’s tear streaked cheeks. “And I’m reminded that you are not of this Earth. You are so much better than this planet could ever produce.You can scratch every dish in this kitchen. I like the scratched one. I like the reminder that this is where you forget. No paper plates. You -this- is not disposable, so break whatever you want. Just no hearts, Supergirl.”
Kara smiled, and nodded. “That won’t ever get scratched.”
Don’t use media jargon you don’t understand.
This thing between us, whatever it is, it’s stronger than me.
Supercat discovers that they’re both dragon lovers (inspired by your bearded dragons)!
The first time Kara enters Cat’s apartment, she’s shocked to see a large tank in the living room. None of her research on Cat prior to her employment suggested Cat to be in any way a fan of animals, especially if they were in her home, but that definitely appears to be an animal tank. She glances at her former boss, wondering if her new privileges extend to delving into Cat’s private life. Maybe not, she decides. They’ve only just become friends, and she can’t jeopardize this fragile thing between them. She wants more, and she’ll never get more if she’s booted entirely from Cat’s life.
Fortunately, Cat saves her from asking the question by moving to the edge of the tank, reaching in, and pulling out a large lizard, approximately a foot and a half long, covered with spines, and climbing–attempting to climb up Cat’s arm. Cat kisses the lizard’s head and turns.
“This is Alfonso.”
“Um, hello?” Kara steps forward. “Is he a bearded dragon?”
“Correct.” Cat offers Alfonso to Kara, who takes him delicately into her arms. “Carter wanted a pet a few years back, so we decided a reptile was appropriate. No loud noises, no damage to my hardwood. But Carter lost interest after a few months, and I ended up taking care of him. I couldn’t just get rid of him.”
“A pet is for life,” Kara adds, gratified when Cat nods and smiles. She can’t get enough of Cat’s smiles, and this one is the brightest she’s seen yet. She has nothing against the half-smirks that slip out at work when Cat is particularly proud, nor the subtle twitching of Cat’s lips when she wants to smile but can’t. But this smile is open and happy–and Kara is excited that she’s been gifted something so precious.
“Did you have a pet growing up?”
Kara thinks about the heasue she’d had as a child. The creature was akin to a bearded dragon, perfectly suited for Krypton’s hot surfaces and lack of water. She can’t mention that, however, since they’re still pretending Cat doesn’t know. Instead, she substitutes as best she can.
“I had a bearded dragon, too.”
“Alfonso seems to like you, so I assume you have a way with lizards, just as you have a way with almost everything else?”
Kara flushes. “Well, I wouldn’t say that…”
“You have to own your accomplishments, Kara.”
She brightens at the use of her name. She’d forgotten that outside of CatCo, behind closed doors, they were allowed to use proper first names.
“I try, Cat. But most of the things I do are group efforts, so it feels odd to take full credit. I didn’t make your latte, I just picked it up. You should thank Rebecca at Noonan’s for how good your coffee is in the morning. My family… My family had a motto. Stronger together.”
“Regardless, you have done amazing things, and you should be proud. I know I am.”
“Really?”
Cat fixes her with a stern look. “Am I in the habit of lying?”
“Only to your mother.”
Cat snorts and rolls her eyes. She takes Alfonso back and eases him back onto his sunning rock. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“Water, please.”
Kara follows her into the kitchen. “I’m proud of you, too. I know it probably doesn’t mean anything, but–”
“It does,” Cat says, her voice low but steady. “Thank you.”
“Oh, of course.” Kara fidgets with the hem of her shirt until Cat hands her a glass of water. She gulps half of the contents down before remembering to act like a civilized human being.
“So, tell me more about your lizard.”
Kara lets Cat guide her to the couch. “You really want to know?”
There is a moment of silence, and Kara searches Cat’s gaze to no avail. Whatever the other woman is feeling or thinking is behind a barrier of practiced indifference. Finally, Cat nods.
“I’d like to know whatever you’ll tell me about yourself.”
Kara scoots a little closer, hoping she’s not misreading the moment. “May I… May I kiss you?”
Cat nods, and Kara brushes her lips against Cat’s. It’s simple and pleasant, and very short. Cat doesn’t complain, although her eyes follow Kara’s mouth, especially when Kara’s tongue darts out briefly.
“Did he have a name? Your lizard?”
Kara relaxes into the couch, aware that Cat will discuss what just happened when she feels good and ready to. Cat is very particular about expressing herself, and it’s something Kara really loves. When Cat speaks, it means something. “Eeno. He was a little bigger than Alfonso, and more orange.”
She answers all of Cat’s questions and even dares a few of her own. Cat answers without hesitation, and Kara realizes that this could very well be something real. As the topic dwindles away, Kara puts a hand on Cat’s wrist.
“Thank you for letting me meet him.”
“He’s got good taste in people,” Cat replies. “I had to have you meet before I decided to pursue you.”
“You pursue me?” Kara laughs her disbelief. “Remind me which one of us kissed the other–”
Kara’s statement is cut off abruptly as Cat kisses her.
5 supercat
5. a reunion kiss
There’s an earthquake in National City. A bad one.
Kara works all day digging people out of the rubble. She tries to keep her spirits up; no one wants to see Supergirl cry, no matter that some of the people she digs out of the rubble aren’t alive anymore. It’s emotionally exhausting, even for a superhero. Still, she only stops when Alex makes her.
“The city is going to need you tomorrow, Supergirl,” Alex says. “And the next day, and the next day. You can’t wipe yourself out today.”
Kara reluctantly agrees, slumping against her sister inside an SUV instead of flying back to the DEO.
“We’re going to get you under sun lamps for a while, okay?”
Normally Kara resists the sun lamps, feels too strong to admit any sort of weakness, but today she nods and closes her eyes.
“Good,” you supply, setting the papers down and smoothing your fingertips over the title page. “The grammar is too stylized for anything but creative writing.”
“I got my oxford commas from you,” he volleys back.
“Yes, well,” clearing your throat, and lifting a foot to push out the chair opposite you so that he’ll sit down. “You’re welcome. They really do help with clarification.”
“They’re pretentious.”
You scowl at him, reaching down to card fingers through Carter’s hair from where he’s given up clinging to your leg for dear life and is simply picking at the already chipping nail polish on your toes. It’s gross, and you wiggle your toes once or twice to get him to stop—but you don’t really put the effort in. “Keep being a brat and I won’t feed you,” you caution.
“That’s child abuse.”“You’re an adult, heathen.”
i will make you queen of everything you see by @civilorange : chronological order [#41] snapshot 42
Prompt: listen to Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton and write.
Here is a prompt written in 4:47 minutes, with no editing or idea of what’s going on. Just the feel of the song? IDK, IDK.
In another universe “I love you,”
won’t sound like an excuse to not leave, or an apology for everything else.But maybe, just maybe, it can be this universe too.
“Marry me,” it’s hushed and
silent and tripping off her lips in a drunken rush. Green eyes bright and
cheeks flushed, there was a moment when even Cat Grant couldn’t keep the drink
from slipping into everything she did. Kara’s captured, not by the all too
human hands bracketing her hips against the wall, or the nearly negligible
weight pressing down her body—no, it was the look in Cat’s eyes. Like distant
stars and endless sunsets, Kara was snared willingly by the alluring heat
calling to every one of her cells.“Cat,” she tried, smiling
something of a rebuke—it was barely there, because how long had she wanted to
hear that—how long had she tangled her hands through this woman’s hair and
wished only to be able to do it in the light of day. “You don’t mean it.” It
hurt to say, hurt more than Kara thought possible—Kryptonite had nothing on
heartbreak.“I do,” the media magnate
insisted, hands pressing and pushing until they dragged hot fingertips over the
dip of Kara’s hips, and into the smooth line of her waist. “I do. More than
anything.”The kiss is sloppy—wet and
inarticulate—but it’s real and that’s
something the movies and books never make a point of. Love is messy, it’s
cumbersome at times and ill-times—but it’s always real. Cat tastes like
thousand dollar champagne and dollar store whiskey—the burn of her lips so very
right.“You’re drunk, Cat,” Kara tries again,
capturing insistent hands determined to slide Kara’s shirt up and over her
head. Pressing a kiss to her lover’s knuckles, she squeezes her eyes shut,
tight enough that colors burst against the black of her lids.“I’m drunk, and stupid, and
finally honest with myself,” a voice no longer wavering, no longer listing away
at the end of every syllable. Green eyes bright as distant thunderstorms, Cat
shakes her head—enough to dislodge perfectly curled blonde hair. “Marry me,
Kara. Make me the happiest woman alive. I love you.” There’s honesty and fear
tangling into each word, each letter.Maybe, just maybe, I love you will mean everything it
should—it finally feels like it does.“Yes.”
you didn’t break her, you don’t know that kind of power – BMM
Question of Smoke 