there are only two feasible reasons why kara and lena have never said “i love you” to one another in canon and that’s because either
a) neither of the characters are able to say it, even just casually, without it then becoming this Huge Thing as soon as it leaves their mouth bc their friendship has never felt truly platonic
b) the writers know that absolutely no amount of stage direction in the script will stop melissa and katie from delivering those lines while gazingly tenderly and deeply into each others eyes like soulmates
Sango I just saw a tweet that said "pierced nipples taste like house keys and there’s no place like home babey" and I feel like it was my duty to share that with you
things you said when we were the happiest we ever wereÂ
Kara felt guilty. Terribly, awfully, stupidly guilty.Â
And it was entirely Lena’s fault.Â
Was she being more than a little dramatic and perhaps several touches unfair? Definitely. But despite herself, despite all her efforts to feel otherwise, the guilt crept in, slowly tainting every single moment.Â
It wasn’t fair. To feel guilty, or to blame Lena for it. It was irrational and illogical and defied any sort of sense. Because things were going so well. She was comfortable with her work, learning new things every day and mentoring Nia. Being Supergirl had never been simpler—she’d finally found that same rhythm and ease Clark had as Superman, and she felt good in the suit. Like she’d made it her own, separate from Clark. She wasn’t as involved with the DEO anymore, giving her a degree of independence she’d craved since she first became Supergirl, and Alex was finally prioritizing her own life, planning a family with Kelly.Â
And then there were things with Lena. Because Lena wasn’t only her best friend, she was her girlfriend, the love of her life, and if Kara believed in things like soulmates, then she’d found it.Â
She had everything. It was perfect. It was the happiest she’d ever been, so much of it because of her burgeoning relationship with Lena.Â
And that was exactly the problem. Kara was happy, and that made her feel so guilty.
(Was it allowed? For her to be happy? For her to feel at home on this planet, to feel the most at home she ever had? For her to think of Krypton fondly, but without that ever-present accompanying pang of pain, for her to be where she was—with her perfect, incandescently happy life, when her people did not get that chance?
Was it okay that there was a part of her—not an insignificant part of her—that was selfishly glad of the way her life had turned out, at peace and at home in Lena’s arms?)Â
At first, Kara tried to pretend everything was fine, trying to ignore the guilt every time it reared its head. But her girlfriend wasn’t considered the smartest person in the world for no reason—she made note of Kara’s change in mood almost immediately, and after a reasonable amount of time of waiting for Kara to broach the topic, Lena brought it up herself.Â
“Is there a super-villain of the month that I’m unaware of that’s got you all glum?” she asked one night in bed, after the lights had been switched off, but before either of them had drifted off. She rolled onto her side, so that she could face Kara. From the moonlight streaming in from the window, Kara could see the worry on her face, her green eyes searching Kara’s for answers.Â
“What makes you think I’m glum?” Kara tried, wanting to postpone this conversation. But Lena shot her an unimpressed look, and Kara sighed, reaching out for one of Lena’s hands, playing idly with her fingers. “I was thinking about some stuff, that’s all.”
“Ohh, thinking. That sounds dangerous,” Lena teased, shifting a little closer, moving her head so that they were sharing the same pillow. “What were you thinking about?”Â
“I’m...happy,” Kara said, letting their fingers tangle together. She turned her gaze to their hands, not sure if she wanted to see the look in Lena’s eyes.Â
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, of course not. It’s just—when I landed here, it was with the knowledge that everything I’d ever known, everything that made me happy, was gone. And despite everything, Earth wouldn’t be my home. It was just a home.” She let her eyes flick up to meet Lena’s, unsurprised by the patience and empathy and love that shone in them. “There was always this sense that being on this planet was...a sentence? That I was serving time, that I had to do penance. To make up for all the lives lost, to be worthy of surviving. And I was, well, content. And that was the best I could hope for.”Â
“Oh, Kara,” Lena murmured, pressing their foreheads together.
"I don't feel that way anymore, because then I met you,” Kara said, closing her eyes. “I have you and Alex and everyone else. A family, an actual home. And I didn’t realize I was allowed to be this happy. I didn’t know I could be. And it makes me feel so—it makes me feel guilty.” She tugged Lena’s hand to her chest, clutching at it as if Lena was her anchor. “Why should I get this when none of the others do?”Â
“Kara, love, look at me,” Lena instructed, and Kara opened her eyes slowly, her breath catching when she met Lena’s gaze. “You deserve every single ounce of happiness that comes your way. And if I could, I would make sure you are this happy every day for the rest of your life. As for guilt—”
“—it’s silly, I know, I—”
“—it’s not silly. I understand. But Kara, don’t you see? You being happy is how you’re honoring the ones you lost.” Lena untangled their hands, wrapping her arms around Kara’s waist and tugging her body closer. Her eyes never left Kara’s. “Living your life to its fullest, being as happy as you can be, is the best thing you can do. Because the ones who love you, who you loved, that’s all they would want for you.”Â
Kara nodded shakily, tears escaping her, then cupped the back of Lena’s neck, pulling her in for a kiss. “I love you, you know? And it’s entirely your fault I’m this happy.”
“I know,” Lena laughed, thumbing at Kara’s side. “And that is one thing I will happily take the blame for.”Â