It’s never a secret. For the first time in Kara’s thirteen years on Earth, there’s no great revelation. There isn’t anything to reveal.
This weight that she’s carried with her into every relationship outside the Danvers that she’s ever tried to build since she landed—it suddenly becomes inconsequential, when they’re together. The fact that Kara is Kryptonian, that she is Supergirl. The distinction between Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El and National City’s resident hero. The deception; the disguise.
There’s no pretense between them, no pretending, no parts to play. They meet in the ring as Supergirl and Miss Martian, and then a few days later Kara Danvers shows up at the alien bar—and M’gann knows. It’s not something she needs to deduce or figure out after they’ve known each other a while. She just looks at Kara and she knows—it’s just a simple unconscious observation, as clear to see as the gold of Kara’s hair or the blue of her eyes.
M’gann slides Kara an Aldebaran rum and Kara doesn’t even realize that she’s still wearing her glasses.
Ze specjalną dedykacją dla tych wszystkich, którzy wierzą w te otp. Jesteście szaleni. A ja to już najbardziej.
With special dedication to all who believe in this otp. You are crazy. And i am craziest of us all. Plus yes, this is redraw of old and ugly sketch from time when it wasn’t yet confirmed that Nevra is vampire. Believe in my fortune telling abilities, believe in this otp. old
18. Kisses because I missed you and you really shouldn’t stay away so long
Cat pushes at Kara’s shoulders and doesn’t let the smile show on her lips. “Honestly—” her eyes fly open as she breathes in dramatically, filling her lungs before Kara dips down to steal another peck. “—Kara,” she finishes when she can, and turns her head before the next attack. Kara’s lips land on her cheek and she prays Kara can’t feel the way her mouth threatens to betray her as she rolls her eyes. “I’ve barely been gone two weeks.”
Hands slipping around Cat’s waist, Kara tugs her closer as she shakes her head, nose brushing over Cat’s great cheekbone. The girl is so dramatic.
“Two weeks is a really long time when we just started dating two months ago,” she whines, and it’s disgustingly endearing. Kara’s hands slide up her back to cradle her shoulder blades, and Cat maybe melts into her, just a little.
“Besides,” she continues, but breaks to dot kisses back to Cat’s lips. “You were only back for four days the last time.” Kara pulls back to look Cat in the eye warningly—well, as much as she can manage with that beaming grin—before her head falls down to Cat’s shoulder.
“The next circuit of workshops doesn’t start until mid-November,” Cat says, and lets her hands fall to Kara’s waist when she turns her lips to Cat’s neck, next.