I'm going to tell you about my cat, I really don't have friends or a crush. I accidentally named him the male version of my name. He's black and white with these beautiful yellow eyes that shine when the sun hits them just right. he's an asshole who knocks my cups of water down and chews on my cords. He tho loves to sleep with me when I'm actually asleep and not just in my bed. He pretends to hate me but then cuddles up to me. His meows are so cute. He loves to sit by the window when it's stormy
omg!!!!! ahhhhh i fuckin love cats so much that’s so adorable i bet he’s a good kitty and that he’s adorable as heck even tho all cats are assholes sometimes
• are not selfish
• are not less of a woman
• are not weird
• are not immature
• won’t necessarily change her mind
• won’t necessary be a lonely old lady
• “a lonely old crazy cat lady” is a patriarchal asshole stereotype:):):):)
• doesn’t necessarily hate kids
• doesn’t need to give you an explanation
BEHOLD MY BEAUTIFUL CREATION!! it took two and a half months and approximately 1200 yards of knitpicks bare gloss lace weight yarn! The pattern is Queen Anne’s Lace by MMario designs on Ravelry! Photo bomb by the most stubborn cat in earth who decided she was going to lay on it regardless of my opinion on the matter.
You know Cat would be like "damn I really have a thing for blonde haired blue eyed women who could whoop my ass" while Antiope is like "damn this woman is so sassy for something so small"
And she would be so impressed that Cat has built an empire without battle skills, without war in the sense that Antiope understands it. But one chance meeting and she knows Cat is every bit as fierce, every bit as wise, every bit as goddamned hot as the greatest leaders etc.
Why is Antiope in that place, wherever Cat meets her (Athens or Rome or the backroom fights in a Boston bar)? Well she faked her death at the hands of those invading soldiers to light a fire under Diana, to get her out there and determined to tackle Ares. It was the only way to unleash the Godkiller after all. But what kind of trainer would Antiope be if she didn’t watch from Diana’s corner, silently cheering her on and absorbing every blow? (It was too much to ask of Hippolyta to lose them both, but these are the burdens of ruling, something Cat can empathize with all too well when she hears the story.)
Cat teaches Antiope how to be forbidding in fabrics other than leather, delights in sharing music and art and wine with her, marvels at how much they have in common despite the centuries and geography that have separated them. Then some drunk idiot gets too close on the sidewalk, maybe angling for a purse or just to disrupt a pleasant evening shared by two beautiful women, but Cat’s knees that go weak at his shout are weak for a very different reason by the time Antiope is done with him.
( They make it as far as the backseat of the car, that first time. It’s not like Cat to dance around it, but she hasn’t wanted to risk the sheer companionship of it all. To hell with caution when Antiope kisses as deftly as she jabs, when she caresses Cat’s cheek with knuckles that are scraped and already bruising. There’s no leather, no silk, not even a scrap of lace between them by the time they’re three steps inside Cat’s penthouse. There are no secrets between them by the time Antiope is three fingers deep and Cat is panting like she can’t quite believe she’ll stay whole. )
It can’t last, of course. Antiope is a woman out of time, a general in need of a troop to command. Cat has new wars to wage every day, not least the ones where Kara leads the charge, and Antiope knows that quiet sigh of frustration or relief goes deeper than Cat ever intended it to.
They part as friends, mature and disciplined and maybe one last time because the wine is so rich and Cat’s skin is so soft and unscarred by battle. When Diana comes to town, the cavalry Kara so desperately needs, she has a general in support at last. Cat’s tremendously glad to see Antiope, but did it really have to take yet another near apocalypse?
This is a breakup scene. It packs more punch than Kara’s actual breakups, for a start. Cat is hurt. By the end, Kara is devastated. But even in such an emotionally charged exchange, Cat is still bringing it as a mentor.
She isn’t even mean. Not in the way she could have been. Kara gave Cat something so unexpected: a chance to know the son she gave away. Not only by getting him there, but by smoothing the path once Adam arrived. So when he showed an interest in her assistant? Cat saw a way not just to get him, but to keep him.
Who better to trust than it’s worth it, family always is Sunny Danvers? Surely she’s the last person to send Adam away. She does, and she breaks Cat’s heart right along with it.
Does Cat call her names? Threaten to fire her again? No. She uses her own failings, the ones so freshly dragged to the surface, and gives Kara a lesson from them. About priorities, about putting the work before the people you care about. About the difference between a career (a calling) and a life. A whole and happy life.
In fact, from this moment on, I think our relationship should be strictly professional. Boss, employee. That way, everything is very clear. Nobody gets confused. Nobody gets hurt.
It’s a rejection, one that stings Kara (and Cat herself, honestly) but in a lot of ways it’s the best possible decision for Kara’s job security and progression. In theory. We all know it’s better when they’re close, when they’re up in each other’s business, but when their personal lives have encroached on work this is probably smarter.
But the fact that even in heartbreak Cat still points out the mistakes to Kara gives away just how much she cares, how much she’s desperately trying not to. Sometimes the best advice is the toughest to hear.