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lottiecrabie · 6 months

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pfms matty taking reader trick or treating because she was never allowed to celebrate halloween growing up since her parents said it was the devils holiday blah blah

pfms crumb for u all

it’s october 31 and matty waits for her in the most undedicated devil costume. he wears his usual attire; some ripped, black clothes, as well as a pair of dollar tree red horns. black nailpolish and eyeliner is the most effort he’s put in his little get-up, and even that’s not far off from half of his basement shows.

he leans against the side of his van, several houses away. around him, small children and overrun adults roam the streets. there’s a shield of safety to the pumpkins and jolly ‘trick or treat’s; with everyone wearing a mask, they can be whoever they want.

she practically skips to him, licking the smile of her teeth. ‘you’re still not funny,’ she chastises, though the amusement betrays her voice.

‘what?’ matty grins. ‘it’s fitting. i’ve been told i’m the devil incarnate before.’

‘oh, my gosh. i did not say that, you dramaqueen.’

matty draws a hand out, catching hers and drawing her to him. she balances herself with two hands on his shoulders, blinking up at him. here she goes again, practically begging him to kiss her with some flutter of eyelashes.

‘i like the halo,’ he says, flicking it. she scowls, replacing the halo again. ‘you look cute.’

‘thanks.’

his hand drops to her waist, burning at the flimsy fabric. ‘we better not stain this dress. they won’t be able to recognize your costume then, angel.’ she flushes, thinking of that first party— and many more since. you hide in the crook his neck and he roars out a laugh, throat vibrating where her nose burrows. she smiles softly, kissing it. ‘i’ll keep my hands off, but i don’t know if we can trust you…’

‘hey,’ she says, looking up.

‘you’re impossible when you’re drunk.’

‘me?’ she says in faux-affront, as though she didn’t become some sort of superhuman glue any time red wine lingered on her tongue, sticking and sticking to his side.

‘alright, let’s go before george accuses us of ditching setting up to fool around.’

she snorts. ‘what could have possibly given him that idea, right?’ matty smirks, rounding the car. she holds the door handle, watching the little princesses and marios knocking on doors, sugared-up gullets smiling wide. something pinches in her heart. she bites her cheek, then sighs, opening the car door and stepping through.

‘what?’ matty says immediately, always some strange way of reading her. it doesn’t spook her nearly as much as it used to, doesn’t unnerve her from the inside-out.

‘nothing,’ she waves away. ‘it just seems fun.’

he frowns. ‘what does?’

‘being all dressed-up, going door to door, asking for candies.’ she vaguely gestures outside. on the sidewalk, a mother high-fives a tiny witch, rubbing her hair with a laugh.

‘you’ve never trick-or-treated?’

she gives him a deadpan look. ‘you mean the devil’s holiday that encourages gluttony and demonic activities?’ halloween was spent the same every year; hiding in a silent house with the lights off and the blinds shut, as though evil spirits could sense them through the cracks and rob their soul if they dared acknowledge it.

matty’s eyes soften at her. he reaches a hand out, warming her thigh. ‘well, i’m the devil,’ he waves to his silly horns, ‘so we have to celebrate.’

she gives him a humorous look. ‘what? go trick-or-treating at our age?’

he nods solemnly. ‘yes.’

‘what about the party?’

matty waves her away, already getting out of the car. ‘who cares?’

‘well, george.’ still, she’s opening the door, a giddy energy in her limbs. she jumps out as matty retrieves two plastic bags from the back of his dirty van.

‘c’mon,’ he says, already walking towards the first house of the street she runs behind him, laughing.

‘are we really doing this?’ she whispers, like this was a crime.

‘why wouldn’t we?’

he walks the stairs decidedly, uncaring of the looks parents give him. she pinches her thumb awkwardly, though not enough to hurt. she stands on the porch, unsure. she throws him a glance; he rings the doorbell.

a flushed-cheeked woman opens up. her eyes draw up to their height, a surprised oh leaving her mouth. matty stares at her. her eyes widen before she smiles at the woman. ‘trick or treat?’ her grin stretches strangely over her lips, as though it, too, didn’t know if it should be here.

the woman grins. ‘still kids at heart, huh?’

‘that’s right, ma’am,’ matty nods.

in their stretched out bags, she drops three pieces of candies each. this time, her grin brightens her face. ‘thanks!’

‘have a goodnight, kids!’ the woman cheers, then closes the door.

‘i can’t believe we did that,’ she whispers to him, jumping down each stair. matty laughs, shaking his head. he reaches into his bag, pulling out a lollipop, taking off the plastic, and sucking it into his mouth. her eyebrows raise. ‘you’re not gonna wait?’

‘why would i?’

decidedly, she takes a mini pack of gummy bears, ripping it open and biting off the first one’s head. the sugar fills her mouth. she laughs. ‘oh, this is fun.’

‘yeah?’

she smiles at him. ‘yes. thanks.’

he grins, throwing an arm around her shoulder and tugging her to his side. ‘anything for you, angel.’ they walk up the stairs of the next house.

#pfms fluff Rare sight #any lottiecrabie fluff actually #pray for my soul #blurb #crablurb #halloween #ask

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bunniebubbleswrites · 1 year

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Hot Coco Kisses

Larissa Weems x F! Teacher! Reader A/N: This was so much fun to write and I had to stop myself from giggling in the middle of some of my classes! Warnings: Slight slow burn? Tooth-rotting fluff, kinda OOC Larissa Words: 1782

Outreach day, something that almost everyone looked forward to. Everyone except you. It was the one thing you did dread every year. All it did was bring back unwanted memories. You had managed to get out of it every year by saying you had papers that still needed grading or by feigning illness. This year neither of those was an option. Apparently, they didn’t have enough chaperons this year so it was just you, Larissa, and Marilyn.

You stood next to Marilyn, as the Mayor’s voice rang through the air, you weren’t really listening to his speech. Something about normie and outcast relations blah blah blah. You just focused your eye’s on the building behind the Mayor and Larissa.

The rush of students passing you and Marilyn forced you out of your daze, almost knocking you into Marilyn.

“Oh my goodness! Marilyn, I am so sorry!” You profusely apologize to your colleague.

“It’s okay, really (Y/N) it’s not that big of a deal.” Marilyn waved her hands in front of her brushing off what happened. “Are you okay though? You’ve seemed kind of out of it since we got here.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just there are some memories I can’t seem to let go of.” You let out a sigh as you spotted Larissa walking towards the both of you in her long gray coat. Her long legs carried her over to the both of you very quickly.

You and Marilyn both turn to look at the tall woman that had her signature smile on her face. The three of you stood in a small circle; the silence un-nevering.

“We should probably go and see how the kids are doing.” Marilyn’s voice made you jump just slightly. You nodded and smiled as you walked towards the students still standing on the main road. You ushered the small group towards their assignments and when you were sure everyone was where they needed to be you started towards The Weathervane.

You entered the coffee shop, the small bell on the door signaling to the people behind the counter they had another customer. You went up to the counter surprised that there was no line.

“Hey Tyler,” Tyler turned and looked at you and met your smile with his own. You had been close with his mother, that in-result led to you being around a lot when he was still little. “My usual, I’ll leave the money on the counter.” You took a 5 dollar bill out of your wallet and placed it on the counter.

You walked over to a small booth second to the back, while putting your wallet away and putting it in the front pocket of your bag. You settled into the booth with your back facing the entrance. You placed your bag next to you and pulled out your book. This was routine whenever you came into The Weathervane.

You ordered a Hot Chocolate, you settled into the second booth to the back of the shop and read. Letting yourself get absorbed into your reading you didn’t notice the two teachers that had walked in. Tyler called out your name and your head shot up.

You took your bookmark and placed it into the book where you had left off. You left your book on the table and walked over towards the counter, you grabbed the to-go cup.

“Thanks Tyler.” You raised the cup of hot chocolate in your hands and nodded at him. You settled back into the both, sipping on the hot chocolate, burning your tongue just slightly with the first sip. You opened your book back up and let your mind wander.

You heard someone sit down in front of you and you looked up from your book, a look of annoyance on your face until you saw Larrissa in front of you with a cup of hot chocolate. You smiled at her and tried to go back to your book.

You tried to focus on the words on the page in front of you but you just couldn’t. All you could do was keep sneaking glances at the woman in front of you.

“Principal Weems,” Larissa gasps as she looks up from the cup she was holding in her hands. You slipped your bookmark into your book and set it gently on the table; resting your hands over each other on top of the book. “ Well, it looks like another successful Outreach Day is upon us.” Larissa gave a slight chuckle towards the mayor.

“And, uh… Thank you for your generous donation to my re-election campaign.” The mayor’s voice seemed to lower but he’s loud enough for Marliyn to hear him.

“Consider it a token of our ongoing cooperation.” Larissa clicks her tongue and you look at her, your shock showing just slightly. Marliyn walks over towards the three of you.

“Apparently everyone is off to their assignments, and so far no incidents.” You've never been more thankful for Marliyn’s impeccable timing.

“Mayor Walker, I’d like you to meet Marilyn Thornhill,” Larissa glanced over towards you “and (Y/N) (L/N).” She gestured towards Marilyn then you. Mayor Walker glanced at you and then at Marilyn, then he smiled.

“In the spirit of outreach, Marilyn is Nevermore’s first normie teacher, and (Y/N) is one of newest teachers.” You smile up at him.

“Well, the pleasure is all mine.” He reaches his hand out and shakes my hand then Marilyn’s.

“Hey, have we, uh… Have we met before?” He turns his attention towards Marilyn, you tune out the rest of their conversation starting down at the cover of your book. You let yourself zone out and the sound of Larissa's voice made you jolt your head up.

“(/N)...(Y/N, are you alright.” She had one of her gloved hands over top of your hands that had been on top of your book. Your face flushed, when had Marilyn left? When did Mayor Walker leave?

“Yes, I’m fine just a little out of it. Sorry.” You didn’t know why you apologized, it had just come out.

“Why don’t we take a walk?” Larissa suggested kindly. Maybe some fresh air would do you some good. You nodded and slipped your book into your bag, you grabbed your hot chocolate and slid out of the booth,having Larissa mimicking your movements.

You both walked out of The Weathervane, your right hand gripping the strap of the bag that hung off your shoulder. Once you reach the steps outside you take a deep breath in and let the cold air settle around you. Larissa puts a hand on your lower back urging you forward.

You look over your shoulder up at her and are met with a nervous smile. You both move down the steps.

“So, umm… we haven’t actually got to sit down and talk since I've been here. So I guess I’ll ask first, what’s been going on with you?” You finish off your hot chocolate and toss it into a trash can as you pass by it.

“Well, nothing really. I’ve just been managing Nevermore.” Larissa responds to your question with the answer you were expecting. Silence falls over both of you as you walk. You go to speak up again but Larissa beats you to it.

“What about you? I mean what's been going on with you?” She seemed nervous when she said it. You giggled slightly at the fact.

“Well, nothing too interesting. After graduation I went to college and now I’m here.” You smiled up at her as you let the words fall out of your mouth.

As you both walked; you both started to bring up old memories. The good and the bad, some of them making you laugh so hard your face turns red.

“Remember that one time Claire begged me to switch Outreach Day assignments with her and she ended up with the espresso machine blowing up in her face.” The words left your mouth as you laughed and it made your heart soar to see Larissa laughing with you.

Larissa then stopped and faced you, she looked nervous. Her face was almost as red as yours was but it seemed it was not for the same reason.

“Larissa is everything alrigh-” She cut you off before you could get another word out.

“You're not dating anyone right?” She said out right, making your eyes go wide.

“N-no, why do you ask?” You stutter out, unsure of where this conversation was going. It had happened to many times before, being asked out and being embarrassed when they didn’t show up or showed up with someone else.

Her face was flushed and so was yours, maybe it’s because you both had been through the same experiences in this department. You both looked at each other and you knew her question without her having to say anything.

You took a step towards her and you reached your hands up to her face having to stand on your tippy-toes despite the heels you were wearing.

You pulled her down, her red lips meeting yours. You weren’t sure what had prompted you to kiss her but you did.

She kisses you back, her arms wrapping around your waist. You didn’t know how long you had been like that, but it got intense enough that her tongue had slipped into your mouth. You could still taste the hot chocolate she had earlier.

She pulled back first, her red lipstick was smudged and you no doubt had some on your lips as well. You both just stood on the sidewalk for a little bit, staring at each other.

The sound of students cheering made you both pull back all too quickly. You stumbled over your own feet and Larissa caught you in her arms. You regain your balance, your hand on Larissa’s lower arms. Your students had just caught the both of you kissing, dear god. You don’t think you would ever live this down.

Larissa shooed the students away, your face flushed and all you could do was stare down at your shoes and grip the handle of your bag so tightly your knuckles were turning white. Larissa walked over to you and took your hand from the handle of her bag. When you felt her gloved hand on yours, you relaxed just slightly.

“So, how about coffee Saturday?” You giggle out, looking up at her. Your hand still in her gloved one.

“That would be lovely.” She responds back, giving you a truly happy smile.

You both walk back to the town square hand in hand, but not before you fix her lipstick and wipe the rest off of your own lips.

#larissa weems #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #wendsday #principal weems #principal weems x reader

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ameliora-j · 1 year

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And I've been thinking about the HC with Hotch where you said he'd ask :“who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?” when Princess gets an attitude with him and I'm feral okay 😭 what would lead up to that?

oh i am so so glad you asked bc i’ve been HOPING to elaborate

content: mean dom!hotch, sub!fem!reader, choking, spitting, age gap (reader is in their 20’s), 18+ only!

you had been on edge, frustrated all week. with work and grad school assignments on top of that, and you had barely seen aaron lately due to both of your busy schedules. you had a final paper coming up, and you were sitting in his home office writing it up. 50 pages, double spaced, droning on and on and on about the legal analysis of the key goals of the constitution of the united states and how it conflicts with today’s law practices and blah blah blah blah blah.

your head was pounding with a migraine and the words on your paper had become blurred. you were near tears as the burnout was slowly creeping it’s way up your neck and into the back of your head. you took a deep breath, rolled your neck and sighed as you stretched, cracking your back. you heard a gentle tap on the door and then the creaking of the hinges as it opened. “hey, sweetheart? it’s nearly 1am… you almost done?” aaron asks softly as he peeks his head through the door.

“not even close” you mumble, not looking away from your laptop where you were currently restarting the paragraph you were on for the umpteenth time in a row.

he frowns at that, stepping over and gently stroking your hair. “do you want to take a break?” he asks, to which you shake your head. “okay hun, i’ll check back in a while” he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead.

that night, you don’t climb into bed beside him until 3am. his alarm goes off at 5:30, and you wake with him. while he gets ready for work, you go to his home office and start up again on your report. you’re grumpy now, and even more frustrated both due to your lack of sleep.

you don’t mean to.. truly, you don’t. but you take it out on aaron. he calls to you, asking where his things are, as he usually does in the morning, while you call replies back, focusing on your laptop. he’s nearly ready when he pops his head into the door. “hey sweetheart, have you seen my gucci tie?” he prompts gently “the blue silk one that you got me for my last birthday?”

it’s what causes you to snap. it was such a simple question, and you felt so bad about it, but you’re emotions were on high right now. “i don’t fucking know aaron, have you ever considered opening your goddamn eyes and fucking looking for it? i’m not your damn mother nor am i the keeper of your belongings. you’re a big boy, so figure it the fuck out and quit bothering me!” you shout.

aaron is stunned, his eyebrows are raised as he looks at you in both shock and concern. he slowly walks over, his dress shoes clicking against the hardwood as he approaches. he’s silent as he spins the chair so that you’re facing him. you’re ready to snap again, but before you have a chance to make even a sound, his right hand it wrapping tightly around your throat and you’re letting out a quiet moan. “who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?” he growls lowly, raising a challenging brow.

all your words die on your tongue and your attitude immediately dissipates as you pout up at him. “i’m sorry daddy…” you whisper quietly, to which he nods.

“there’s my good girl. for a second i was worried i’d have to spank her out of you” he hums. he leans over your body and your mouth opens on instinct, allowing his spit to trail from his mouth and down onto your tongue. “let’s try that again, shall we?” he hums. you’re nodding along dumbly as he speaks, and he smiles at how quickly he was able to turn his smart law student into a dumb, brainless, wordless princess.

“sweetheart…” he begins in that low, taunting voice that never fails to make your thighs clench. “have you seen my gucci tie? the blue silk one that you got me for my last birthday?” he prompts once more with a cocky smile.

“it’s in the toy drawer from the last time you used it to tie me up, sir” you whisper softly. he smiles, still holding your throat as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“thank you pretty girl” he whispers softly. “now,” he hums, reaching behind you, making sure to save your work before he closes his laptop. “i’m going to call my team, and tell them all not to come in until 12. and you’re gonna come with me, and we’re going to go back to sleep, okay?” he whispers.

“but i-“ you begin to argue, but he’s squeezing your throat tighter and you’re moaning.

“it wasn’t a question” he says lowly. it’s the voice that never fails to turn you to mush and make you do whatever he says.

“yes, sir” you whisper, and within seconds you’re standing and allowing aaron to tug you towards the bedroom as he calls the team to let them know they don’t have to come in until later.

don’t worry, he fixes the puddle in your panties before pulling you into his naked chest and letting you fall asleep on top of him ;)

#fanmail 💌#nani.headcanons #nsfw.nani #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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popopretty · 2 years

Text

BSD Chapter 102

Chapter’s name is Jingaimakyou – The first part (roughly translated to “mysterious place out of the human world”). Not sure if it is done on purpose but author Oguri Mushitarou wrote a novel of the same name.

We have a change of pov this month, so we will have to wait at least another month to know what happened in the prison, but instead we get to learn a lot about Bram in this new chapter, and also Bram and Aya interactions are the cutest <3

Please note that neither English nor Japanese is my mother tongue, and Bram’s speech is so hard to understand so I may make mistakes. Please let me know if there is anything you want to correct.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Aya takes Bram to a parking lot and both of them get into a truck of a laundry service. (Bram is like oh this wagon doesn’t have any horses XD). Aya explains to him that besides passengers, there are many other people working in airport service who go in and out of the airport every day. And the securities will not have enough time to check through everything here, so if they get in one of these vehicles and wait, they will be able to get out of the airport once someone drives it out. Bram praises her and Aya is like of course I am the ally of justice.

Aya looks at the sword piercing into Bram and tells him they can look for a way to pull it out together if it hurts. Bram says that it is stupid because once the sword is pulled out, it will release the devil inside him and bring and darkness to earth blah blah blah. Aya then asks him what exactly that sword is, and Bram tells her that the sword used to be human. Hundreds of years ago, when a skill user died, his physical body was turned into metal by the skill, from which this Holy Sword was made. That skill that remains even after the user’s death was the skill to fuse a “physical body” with an “ability”.

We get a quick change of scene here, where Atsushi hears Dazai’s voice calling out for him, telling him to wake up because there is no time. Then he opens his eyes to find himself being tied up in a (supposedly) torture room with Teruko staring at him.

Back to Bram and Aya, Bram continues to explain that the sword has the power to connect the “physical/material” and the “mental” aspect of things, granting the power to control “skills” like a part of the “body”, a skill that goes against the law of this world. When stabbed by the sword, it will take its roots into your brain, and it will craves a holy mark on the person holding the sword. Right now, the mark is on Fukuchi’s hand, which means only Fukuchi can use his power.

Aya says that Bram seems to know about the sword very well, to which Bram tells her that is because he has been stabbed by this sword not once, but twice. There is a flashback of Bram from long ago when he and his kins’ heads were hanged on stakes, in front of a big army who are cheering to “kill the enemy of God”. And Bram was asking the soldiers to have mercy and spare the members of his fief, when one of them called him a demon and slashed his head with the sword.

Back to present, Aya asks why Bram is making such a sad face, Bram says that it’s the worry of the lord that the underlings can never understand. Aya stops him there, asking him if he is calling her an underling, and Bram tells her she is more like a horse because she carries him on his back and takes him around (xD). Aya says she would drown him in a bathtub and Bram somehow acknowledges that it is the way people nowadays worship their lord. Aya says no one can beat him at being a natural airhead.

Suddenly the top of the truck they are sitting are cut off and vampire!Akutagawa appears in front of them. Bram urges Aya to run away as quickly as she can.

The chapter ends here. Next chapter will be out on July 4 (JST). Thank you for reading till the end ^^

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #summary #spoilers #bsd spoilers #aya koda #bram stoker

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streaminn · 7 months

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Okie, so I was in bed, totally about to turn off my phone in a few minutes and get them eepies, but then I made the mistake of opening up your Ortegaverse tag and doom-scrolled... oopsies

Anyway, while scrolling, I came across an old comment from our good friend @theogm-art from a few days ago. Unfortunately, I don't have a screenshot but basically, it was about Wednesday finding Enid with May and taking them back to the Addams Mansion. And of course, my brain took it as a challenge lol.

And so, blah blah my interpretation blah blah blah (forgive me, I'm tired lol)

"You live here?" Wednesday asked, trying not to sound disgusted. The apartment that Enid took the trio to wasn't too awful, but it certainly wasn't going in any magazines. The whole place was small and as far as Wednesday could tell, the was only one bedroom, definitely far too small for an entire family to live in.

"Yeah, it isn't a mansion but... it's home," Enid sighed before turning to her daughter, "Hey pup! Whataya want for lunch?"

"PB&J PWEASE! And in twiangles!" May shouted, making Enid chuckle fondly. Her daughter, just like Enid at seven, is still unable to pronounce her L's and R's. "Alright, pup! One PB&J in triangles, coming up!" Enid turned back to the raven standing dumbfounded by the front door, "You want anything, Wends? I don't have much, but I'm told I make a mean PB&J?"

Wednesday finds herself about to make some remark about the gluttonous nature of the sandwich, but quickly bites her tongue, "I suppose I stomach a single sandwich."

(idk, time skip 30 mins)

"Enid."

"Yeah? What's up Wends?"

"I couldn't help but notice, this apartment is incredibly small. I assume you aren't doing well financially?"

Enid sighs in response and instead looks to May, "Hey pup? Mama needs to talk with her friend, can you go play in our room?" May nods happily and runs off to their bedroom, leaving the adults alone. "No, I'm honestly just barely keeping up with the bills. It's surprisingly hard raising a seven-year-old all on your own," the wolf jokes, but receives no sign of humor from the other woman.

Instead, Wednesday's eyes widen in shock, "On your own?" The dark-haired woman stares in disbelief for another moment before finding her voice again, though lightly laced with anger, "Where is her other mother? Is she absentee?"

Enid laughs flatly, but her face quickly turns dark as the trauma from seven years ago returns with a vengeance, "No, she um... She's not with us anymore. She was a normie and... well," Enid doesn't finish her sentence but she doesn't need to, Wednesday quickly connects the dots.

"Oh, I am sorry for your loss..." Wednesday pauses before adding, "And I apologize for jumping to conclusions. I'm left to assume she was quite the attentive partner, seeing as she bore your child."

Enid snorted out a laugh, "Yeah... yeah, she was amazing." Enid fidgets helplessly with the ring adorning her left-hand finger. A silence settles over the room for a while. It's not tense, but it's not exactly comfortable either. Wednesday's mind churns through all the new information she's been given over the last hour.

Eventually, Wednesday breaks the silence, "Come back with me to the mansion."

"Wh- what? Why?"

"Your daughter deserves a safe and loving environment to grow up. And you too deserve the same, Enid. I must admit, I do not know much about taking care of a child, but I'm sure my parents would be honored to help you," Wednesday speaks plainly as if she isn't offering everything, "You'd be given a well-deserved break."

Enid, for her part, is left shocked. Finally, she picks her jaw back up from the floor to speak. "Wednesday," the wolf whispers in awe, "You'd really take me back there? After what I did?"

"Of course, Enid. As I said, I have already forgiven you. I..." An uneasiness overwhelms the raven as the need to offer vulnerability to Enid crashes over her, but she quickly powers through, "I searched for you everywhere. I never once stopped looking. I- I couldn't bear being so far away for so long, Enid."

Enid is once again taken aback. For so long, Enid thought herself to be unforgivable as the endless traumas and heartbreak throughout the last two decades tore her soul apart, time and again until all she was left with was broken memories and a little girl who relied on her for everything. But now, she's not only been so easily forgiven by one of the only people she's ever sought it from but she's also being given a second chance at life. It feels like another ploy by the universe. Surely, this is just another in a long line of tricks to lead her into that dreaded false sense of security.

But no. As Enid stares into those dark eyes, she sees nothing but truth. It's a breath of fresh air and Enid takes it in greedily. "Okay, I'll go with you. Thank you, Wends," Enid accepts, then speaks softly, "We really do work, don't we?"

And for the first time Enid's ever seen it, Wednesday smiles. Just barely, but it's there. "We shouldn't," the brunette replies, "But we do."

Okie, time to pass out lol

However Enid's face turns cold, a steel of ice in those blue eyes as her smile falls.

"but I won't accept charity."

Wednesday stares. "this isn't charity-"

Enid waves her hand in a no no gesture as she sighs. It's then that Wednesday begins to be too aware of the lines of stress that lines her past roommates face. There's eyebags lying under her eyes, not so noticeable when she's smiling but all too seen when not.

"it is to me," Enid says before she gives a smile, shaky and not as true. It looks like a compromise. "so please let me help out around the house."

Wednesday swallow the No that was so ready to spill from her lips. She grits back the words of you deserve so much more, deserve to be pampered and cared for.

Wednesday nods and she stares at the way Enid smiles, her finger playing with the ring on her hand.

#Writing #Rachelsfavqueer #Enid x Wednesday #Ortegaverse #AAAAAA WE GOT SO MUCH TALENTED AND SKILLED PEOPLE HOLY SHIT #THANKS RACHEL!!!!

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scaryspears · 2 years

Text

One sided Homelander x Alien Reader

So my last post got some attention and I was a little unsatisfied with the lack of dialogue so I wanted to fix that. Here's part 2.

On the edge of a balcony stood a young girl with partially dyed hair. Her nose is pointy, her eyes brown, and her skin was quite clear. She kept looking over the balcony, maybe contemplating something. Who knew what she was thinking or what she was gonna do.

You carefully landed a meter behind her, your hair falling down on your face before braiding itself into a single ponytail. The up do one.

"Yo!" the girl turned around to see you. "Chelsea, is it?"

"Don't come any closer." she warned.

"Okay." You obeyed, observing her. You sensed uncertainty, a little bit of annoyance- impatience. You started tapping your foot, waiting for her to do or say something, even though you just arrived. You honestly couldn't help yourself.

"You're gonna jump aren't you? Why is it taking so long?" you said innocently.

"Huh?"

She was startled. You mentally kicked your own curiousness, face palmed feeling embarrassed.

"Sorry, it's just that you seem hesitant. People who commit suicide don't hold back, and they carry a heavy feeling in their hearts, from what I remember anyway. Besides, what is your afterlife like? Humans have a lot of rules to follow in life and I'm pretty sure killing yourself means instant damnation."

"I'm Jewish."

"Oh, then you're lucky that Stormfront's still missing." you unconsciously licked your lips.

Chelsea noticed something and looked down, only to find her vision turned around but still facing you.

"What the fu- oh my god!" she screamed, trying her best to find her ankle which had your hair wrapped around it. "Put me down! Put me down!"

"You don't seem the least bit distraught." you said, ignoring her sudden fear. Your hair brought her closer to you, lifting her up above the ground so that you could have a better look at her face. In response she only stared into your eyes with panic while screaming in terror. "I guess that's a good thing." you say to yourself.

"Please put me down!"

"I will, my direct orders were to fly you down to safety. I would leave you up here but the more I think about it there is a chance you'll actually follow through with your original objective."

Your hair let go of Chelsea, and she fell into your arms. Had you let her drop onto the ground her neck would've cracked. Your hair started moving in a helicopter motion. (This is probably the only reason I gave her this ability)

You landed on the ground with a little stumble that was harsher than usual due to the extra weight, and your hair didn't feel like using multiple ponytails.

Cameras zoomed towards you, people were cheering you, only some of them checking on Chelsea. You spotted Ashley who appeared very content and happy, the kind where she accomplished something.

"Are we making a film? Is this a documentary?" you asked her, feigning stupidity.

"Something like that. Gosh you looked so amazing coming down- blah blah blah."

You listened to her babble, preparing yourself for whatever request they had next for you.

You walked through Vought with nothing much on your mind other than finding Starlight. You occasionally waved to the workers who did their usual shift or at least tried to, you were holding a smoothie in both hands.

"Hey [Name], congratulations on saving Chelsea."

Your hair immediately went on attack mode, the tip pointing at Homelander's neck as if ready to cut him.

"Sorry about that, it seems to have a mind of its own. I would pull it off but my hands are full." you showed him the smoothies.

He gently took the smoothies from you, and you petted the braid attached to your scalp. "What's wrong? There's nothing to be angry about, calm down." you cooed at it softly in you mother tongue.

From the corner of your eye Homelander subtly rolled his own eyes. "Whose drinks are these?"

You smiled brightly at him, "One is for me, the other is Starlight's."

Something in his eyes darkened. "Ah, Starlight." he mused.

"Aye. She's so pretty that I want to spoil her as much as I can. And she's so brilliant and smart, she's an icon to all the girls who need someone to look up to."

"Right." he took a sip from one of them

"Hey." You snatched it from him. "You didn't even ask if you could try it, and it's not a milkshake." you inspected the cup, trying to guess how much he drank.

"Why didn't you ask me? Do you want milk? I can get you one."

His expression altered from your sudden kindness and you sensed triumph, "Yes, milk will be nice. Let's get it together."

"Okay. We can do that later." you took the other drink from him. "By the way, aren't you supposed to be playing... what is it called? Kissy face with Stormfront?"

You sensed discomfort, "She's still missing."

"Aye, I forgot about that." you took a sip of your drink. "I'm off, see you."

#the boys amazon #homelander x reader #homelander #alien reader #starlight #queen maeve #stormfront #a train #foreign reader #female reader #dark reader #hair manipulation #teenage reader #young adult reader

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thetwelfthcrow · 5 months

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I don't know how much I can tell since it's pretty "beginnery" but it's something like that:

Lewis is an adopted prince and walks around the kingdom (from a game with wyvern) to see what the people are doing right now and decides to go to a more deserted route to the higher region of the mountains, where nobody really likes to go.

On the top, there's a really small town (maybe around fourty to fifty people) and finds a flower/coffee shop there. The owner is Max (a "Cheetah Rimeblood") and his six-years-old son Logan.

They talk a bit, Lewis goes back and now makes it his mission to visit Max and Logan every day despite his royal duties (and the duties of training his fighting skills and the wyvern tongue).

It's all good and dainty until Lewis comes to the shop disheveled, Logan scared and crying for his mother.

(TW: Rape!)

He finds Max's unconscious body behind the shop, slightly buried in the snow and helps him, quickly using their wyverns to keep him warm. The person can't be captured since both Max and Logan couldn't see them and Lewis decided to get them into the castle where they can rebuild their shop in safety.

Blah blah blah, some love and drama about arranged marriage later, they get together secretly and Lewis' younger brother notices Lewis making or buying (I have yet to decide if it's like medieval or modern) some white chocolate [Müllermilch] and they have to confess their love and relationship.

I think you now know why I asked you that question a while back 😅

ahhh that makes sense! haha i thought it was for your serial killer fic. but cool! is it on ao3 already? then i'll add it to the list. otherwise i'll add it to next year's list hehehee

#nuggetstappen #tw rape

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hikari-writes · 1 year

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Ok I had to look out what blorbo was but here I am

So you prob know by now my unhealthy and loving obsession with Atsumu, right? Right

But what about my very first Anime blorbo (that I'm conscious of, and no I won't count my pokémon trainer crush that's for another story)

Tachibana my Beloved Makoto

Geez I didn't have to look for his name I still remember it. Look Karin is insane, 12 y/o me was awestruck when that man appeared on the screen (he was the perfect balance of attractive "hot" and attractive "cute")

He was the first man I looked fanfiction of and it was in spanish SPANISH MY MOTHER TONGUE imagine the reach of the fandom (it was on watpadd man that was long ago)

My male cat is named after him, I have a pin and a poster (it has all the free characters but STILL I HAD HALF NAKED MEN ON MY WALL)

Now now now imagine my sadness when I got out of high school and this sin of his beautiful mother wasn't canonically an adult

I WAS TRULY DISTRESSED IT'S RIDICULOUS I HATE MYSELF 😭😭😭😭😭

Then Free! went on with the adaptation blah blah blah he is now an adult and I am happy

That's basically my story with my first ever blorbo ksjdjdjsjsj and he IS the print, the mold of my ideal man, gosh how I would wish to be hugged by him is insane

I'll stop now, this went out of control ups 🧍🏻‍♀️

Game: SHAKES YOU TALK TO ME ABOUT YOUR BLORBO[S]

HELLO HELLO OMG NAT MAKOTO???? SUCH TASTE THATS SO AWEOSME 👍👍👍👍 when i firat watched free my fav was haruka (i know its basic but he was exactly my type when i was like a kid 😭😭) i currently have no fav from free tho (not yhat im in the fandom anyway so - 🧍🧍)

I get u tho makoto is like the perfect husband material ngl ?? 🤔🤔 HELP NAT URE SO CUTE IM SORRY IM GIGGLING AT UR STORY RN STOP THATS SO ADORABLE 😭😭😭 CONGRATS ON MAKOTO FOR BEING NAT'S FIRST FICTIONAL MAN SHE SEARCHED UP FANFIC FOR 👍👍👍 ALSO PLSS WATTPAD SAME THO THATS LITERALLY WHERE MY FIRST EXPOSURE FOR FANFICS AT LMAOOO AND PLSSS NAMING UR CAT AFTER HIM???? THATS SO ADORABLSE BNXGXHWIJDJSJDJ !!!! (Me getting a pet just so i can name them after my blorbo's name regardless of their gender 💆‍♀️💆‍♀️)

Also if u want tp continue the brainrots my inbox is always open so dont limit urself i did told u to go wild 👍👍😼😼

#AHAHDHAJHSHS DO TELL ME ABT UR POKEMON TRAINER CRUSH (someoneo who has never played pokemon or know anythung abt it-)#i had fun hearing ur story is so fun aaaa !!!#thank u for sharing nat!!#⋆ the snow lotuses #⋆ inbox gracer #HELP I DONT THINK I ASKED U WHAT U WANT AS UR EMOJI #okay what emoji would u like me toput in ur custom tag???#⋆ miya atsumu's ✧🍎✧

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wbwoqlqxoxxms · 4 months

Text

Yishun Revengers Episode 13 "HAIL GOD EMPEROR LEE"

"Wait, did my keyboard just pofma autocorrect me?"

-yes yes yes all hail gahmen all hail pap pls don't shoot me spf pls don't shoot me spf pls don't shoot me

“Oh, right. One more thing. You yapped on and on about what this plan is, how you’re trying to pull it off and why we should join your noble cause…but this plan does require the actual Culpable to work, right?” Mendax asked.

“Yes, do not fret yourself, I have already obtained relevant information of his whereabouts,” Skorpius stood up and dusted himself off of all the dirt that had gotten onto him, replying in an elegant manner as he regained his previous dignified demeanour.

“So where is this Culpable you speak of?” Ming snapped impatiently, demanding to know the location of the seed of terror, whatever devious plan he was concocting in his wayward head with which the Culpable had to with.

“In…an apartment in Yishun. Block 349, Yishun Avenue 11. 07-249.” Skorpius muttered inaudibly, lowering his voice when it came to the coordinates of the crew’s target.

“Block 349…Yishun Avenue 11…Um…” Stefen spoke up first upon realising something was up with those numbers. “Wait, you said those…Culpables…brought about terror and destruction wherever they went…causing weird stuff wherever they go…”

Skorpius affirmed Stefen’s biggest worry (or question considering this would be the scoop of his life) with a nod of his head. “Aren’t you making a documentary on the strange happenings of Yishun? This is the biggest insider info you could possibly put on screen,”

“Wait, wait, wait, no, no, I’m definitely not doing this for the tremendous fame and fortune this would bring…I…I…am doing this…uh…” Stefen bit his life and smiled nervously. “I am doing this because I want to find out what the hell that dude did to me!” *points at currently startled Ming*

“Hey, wait, that’s right, you said you attacked us in the first place because you wanted to find Demongazer’s blood to ‘devise a cure’, right? Can you not do that instead of the whole troublesome purification process instead?” Fentanyl snapped his fingers with that “Aha, got you there, didn't I” vibes, smirking ever-so-slightly to himself.

“If he could, he would do it, Pillar, do you really think he wants to do this?” Little Whitey covered his beak with his wing as if mocking the incompetent, unable-to-catch-up brain of Fentanyl's. Well, perhaps there's a reason his name is literally such.

“Oi, oi, don't go too far, ah!” Sunda rushed to defend his brother and the name of the Pillars, pointing and glaring aggressively at the unfazed Little Whitey.

“But yeah, that does bring the question…was he developing a medicine of sorts to purify the Culpable? He already said it was impossible on its own, hence the whole ‘we needs three divine warriors sent from the heavens above blah blah blah’ thing. Why…?” Laju narrowed her eyes and shot the almost well-groomed Skorpius a glance.

“...”

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Ok, I'll be honest with you. The medicine wasn't meant to purify the Culpable-that's, as you said I mentioned, impossible. The medicine was meant to study one of the major abilities of Demongazers-transferrence or concentration of consciousness to a minor part of the body.” Skorpius halted his self-grooming for a while as he prepared for another long explanation.

“Transferrence…of…consciousness?? We can do that, Ming?” Stefen stood shocked for a brief moment, then turned to Ming like a child who wanted to ask his mother a burning question he had.

Ming did not answer, although his eyes presumably lit up-now full of life and energy. As if he had seen (or heard) something exciting or intriguing enough to perk his interest.

“Yes, it's true, although this skill can only be practised after an intense amount of training, and usually only activates in a case of emergency where your life is in danger,” Skorpius continued anyway, ignoring Ming's silence on the question.

“Transferrence of consciousness…so? Great, you want to develop a medicine that helps someone transfer their consciousness. How does that link to the current topic about Culpables we're discussing right now?” Sicarius brandished her knife again, this time possibly just for show considering she's already let Skorpius in the club as one of them.

“...”

“Talk.” Pertama stared down fiercely at Skorpius, mimicking the action of a pistol firing with his fingers. Wait, how's that supposed to be intimidating again? Meh, must be something Codeine taught him...

“The…the medicine's…supposed to…well…it’s…actually meant for..me…to consume…” Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Skorpius, who used to be either full of words or complete silence has actually stuttered in his speech! What a historical moment worthy of recognition!

“!!” Little Whitey yelped out a cry, then almost immediately stuffed both his wings into his mouth as if to indicate something he really shouldn’t have said.

“Little…Whitey?” Luna whispered as literally everyone in the room turned their craniums slowly to stare at the bird that apparently had an epiphany about something they didn’t but needed to know,

“Um, nothing, I just…swallowed a giant bug..wait, no, ew, I..uh…oh..I realised now that whatever excuse I make will sound suspicious as hell but I am definitively unable to tell you what it is, so just please trust me on this one for now I’ll tell you once the plan is over oh wait you’d probably already know anyway uh.”

“That doesn’t sound convincing…”

Skorpius let out a soft chuckle but made sure only the bird could hear, to which he glared at him as sternly as a bird could.

“Superpowered human?” Skorpius immediately shifted the group’s attention temporarily to Sano instead. “You’ve been quite quiet this whole journey,”

Sano slowly opened his sad eyes. No, really, eyes tinged with a hint of sadness. The apologetic, regretful, mournful eyes that spoke a thousand and one more words than any explanation from him himself could ever hope to.

“I trust you.” He finally let the words escape his mouth after a few seconds of solitude in his own world. “I don’t want any harm to come to him either,”

‘Neither do I,” Skorpius affirmed. “Although I must admit this is the first time I’ve seen a mortal forge such a strong tie to a Culpable,”

“I’m just an empathetic human, that’s all. I don’t want any innocent beings to suffer, just like you,”

“...” Skorpius lowered his head slightly in Sano’s direction and remained voiceless for a fleeting instant in time, letting the two of them clear the racing thoughts in their head.

The group noticed this and stayed quiet too. Particularly Luna-who, as we all know well enough to be able to stay silent for the entire day if she wanted to, and Little Whitey, who wasn’t all that bad in keeping the tranquility considering all the drama he stirred up earlier.

In fact, he even appeared quite apologetic for that-the same sadness that was once written in Sano’s eyes had jumped ship to Little Whitey’s. One could even feel sorry for him as he sadly stared down at Skorpius. One would even think he’s feeling sorry for Skorpius instead.

Wait, someone didn’t die recently or something, right? Skorpius isn’t choosing now to mourn them, right? Then why have such a random moment of silence? DOES HE HAVE SOME OTHER AGENDA??

“Alright.” He looked up and held his head high again after the moment of silence he started for no reason.

“Are we ready to head out?”

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bradenthompson · 5 months

Text

King of the Beach pt. 0

Apparently you aren't allowed to buy six chinchillas at once.

And what a shame, because Cameron Otterlake just felt like a fucking genius. God emperor of boyfriends. He pointed out a dog on the TV, saying he'd always wanted one but the state had outlawed breeding that particular "crime against nature." Something about their hearts not pumping enough blood around their cute little bodies. Olivia Achenbach then said she always wanted chinchillas (plural) but her mother didn't trust her ability to care for gerbils or whatever chinchillas are exactly. Information Cameron filed away.

Cameron Otterlake and Olivia Achenbach, soon celebrating six happy months of mostly-serious dating, had seen the now illegal dog while watching HGTV's Malibu Million Dollar Makeover. A home renovation show with a twist: its subjects could afford lots on the Malibu beachfront. Case in point: Olivia's older sister, who along with her fiancé had just bought a three story 1997 development, now appearing on HGTV to catalogue the interior redesign. Vince Neil had owned that place for a time. As did Thomas Eisenberg, owner of the Golden State Privateers, a WNBA team active from 1997 until 2010 when Eisenberg sold to an anonymous buyer that immediately dissimilated the franchise for an obtuse tax incentive.

Emmaline Downer-Achenbach thinks bar trivia like this makes for good TV but Olivia is so enchanted by the sight of her sister on the small screen (technically a Samsung 4K projector) Cameron lets this bit of sass dissolve on his tongue. TV appearances are uncommon in her family.

Him and Olivia come from different worlds. The Achenbachs are jet ski royalty. Barons and baronesses unto some ten percent of all Lake Tahoe rental cabins. Her uncle owns the patent for swim goggles (Cameron didn't know such a thing existed or was allowed). Impressive. Eyewatering money for, statistically, ninety-three percent of all people who will ever hear the name Achenbach. All of this makes them only a noticeable wedge of the Otterlakes.

Excusing himself to the bathroom, Cameron had rang up a boutique pet store he remembered seeing last time he was downtown.

"Do you carry chinchillas?" he had asked.

"Are you asking for supplies?" the clerk said.

"No, the animal."

"Yes, we have two families in our breeding program. We could have one prepared for adoption--"

"One isn't gonna be enough. I need, like, three."

The clerk hesitated, briefly, then asked Cameron what someone would need with three short notice chinchillas.

"Girlfriend wants one. Ever since she was a kid."

He'd been peeking out into the sitting room, eyeballing where a pet pen could be laid without interrupting the gigantic couch. Or maybe he should just have them all wandering the couch and rug. That might be cute. Oh, and she just... keeps finding more.

"Actually let's make it six. Even number. Can we do three boys and three girls?"

The pet store clerk had had enough. Like Cameron's some kind of stupid kid, she tried telling him people are always coming in and adopting pets for a cheap thrill when even a goldfish is a big responsibility. The pet store was categorically uncomfortable with selling him six chinchillas with no prior experience, nothing to suggest a positive quality of life, something something God's creatures blah blah blah. He hung up.

"Cam?"

He jolts back to reality. He had been thinking about the call with the pet store and getting mad again. "Mm?"

"Tez is taking his yacht out tonight for the fireworks," Olivia enunciates extra hard. This must be her second or third time saying this. "Did you wanna go."

"Who is Tez?"

"TezasterHD, the YouTuber I was telling you about."

"And YouTubers have yachts now."

"No, YouTubers whose parents sold Key West houseboats to all the Wahlbergs have yachts. Don't think like the huge ones--the mini cruise ships. It's one of those big sailboats."

"I don't know that guy," Cameron repeated, "but you can go."

"But I want you to come."

"I can't invite myself on other people's boats."

"Yes, you, Cameron Otterlake, actually can. Tez would scream. Bianca Thomasson is gonna be there."

"Who?"

"Do you know anyone? She was on Disney Channel."

"Tell you what," Cameron offered, scooching down on the small island of a couch until he was looking at the ceiling. "We take my boat. Fill it up with people that people actually know. Watch the fireworks without a big fucking sail in the way. Hm?"

Olivia laughs. Her smile flashes a lot of gum. Like it's mostly gums. It's not that it's not cute, it's just always what Cameron's gonna focus on.

"You don't know who this guy is but you wanna emasculate him."

"I want to give you, Liv, the best fireworks experience. We'll launch my own, even."

"You have your own fireworks," Olivia repeats like she's caught him in a lie.

"Custom-made. Some of them spell out the Otterlake monogram. We had them made for my great-grandpa's 100th, but Dad ordered too many."

Olivia laughs again (gums). She lies down parallel to Cameron, tucking her head under his armpit left splayed while he scrolls his phone. "I'll call some friends," she says, "we wouldn't want your way better fireworks boat party to go without bikini girls."

"Not necessary in the least," Cameron's quick to say.

"Well, aren't you a gentleman."

"No, I mean don't overextend yourself. I can call my own."

Victory for Cameron Otterlake. He'd just got done exchanging emails with the 12th Avenue Petco who hooked him up with fourteen chinchillas. Ready for pickup tomorrow. Olivia's gonna lose her mind.

#writing #writeblr #my writing #bookblr #writers #writers on tumblr #nightblogging #short story #this came to me while browsing zillow listings sorted from high to low

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mo2k · 2 years

Text

unexpected love

fandom : encanto

pairing : camilo x reader

warnings : none, except fluff

a/n : @bokubooo happy birthday my boo <3

“please camilo —“

“no! i already gave my answer mirabel, there’s no use in trying to convince me”

“but —“

“blah blah blah”

camilo stick out his tongue in a nonchalant expression. making mirabel groaned in frustration, why won’t he help her? she just need him to shapeshift into her for a little while but he keeps refusing saying that he has loads of work to do tomorrow.

with that being said, the brown haired boy took another bite of arepas made by his aunt. and the side of mirabel’s face flops to the table, utterly hopeless and lost.

right now mirabel is starting to regret the decision of asking you to meet up tomorrow. only if she didn’t have to go helped her mother out.

mirabel sighed dismally at the thought of having to go apologise you and says she can’t come anymore. she doesn’t really want to break the promise although camilo’s not helping at all — like sure everyone can be busy at times but can’t he just help her a little? it’s only for some hours —

unless…

“there’s one thing i haven’t told you about” mirabel quickly lift her head up suddenly. camilo quirked an eyebrow at her before gave her a nod as a gesture to go on, glass in his hand as he sips some water.

“it’s y/n who i asked you to meet tomorrow”

a violent choke and a spatter of water slipped from camilo’s mouth at your name. and mirabel smirked knowingly while watching her cousin struggle to keep his cool. looks like her guess about camilo’s crush on you is true.

“but oh well, what a bummer that you’re super busy tomorrow. looks like i gotta turn her down about the plans —“

“uh actually — if it’s only for some hours i might be able to spare a little time”

got ya.

“if you say sooooooo. the meeting time is at 10 o’clock, good luck!”

the girl got up from her seat and swiftly paced out of the room, just in case if he changes his mind. slamming the kitchen door shut as she went.

and that’s how the brown haired boy got left alone, head in his hands and mind pondering, will he be okay tomorrow??

camilo found himself playing with his fingers mindlessly, waiting for your arrival. he legit comes 15 minutes early, just to make sure he won’t be late and end up embarrassed himself.

heaving a sigh, he leaned his back against the bench he’s sitting in. it was just outside the local store where parents often come to. wait why is he thinking of these things suddenly? perhaps he’s nervous? maybe. maybe not he’s —

“boo”

a voice softly called out of nowhere. making him jumped in surprise and twisted around to see you. giggling with the brightest smile he ever saw.

“gotcha good mirabel! did i make you wait long?” you asked, also reminding camilo that he’s mirabel right now. not camilo.

he gently shook his head in return, trying to smile as natural as possible, “nah not at all, i’ve just arrived, too”

you crossed your arms while giving him a suspicious look, then it turned into a hearty laugh.

“alright, alright. should we go now then? ooo this gonna be fun — let’s go let’s go!” you excitedly exclaimed, grabbing his hand and slightly tugged him forward.

he really did have lots of fun, smiling and laughing while talking about thousands millions things, cracking tons of jokes along the way. from trying new fashions or putting on weird glasses just to laugh at each other’s face. dancing merrily to the dulcet but jolly local street’s music. trying to keep quiet in a library but utterly failed that the librarian have to shoo you two away, he seemed furious about it. “don’t ever come again” mimicked the silly voice and face + gesture by camilo, it ended up look hilarious in an odd way. but alas, the day have to end as you and him strayed to the river side, watching the sun sets beautifully across the sky. which was tinged with orange-pink colours, it’s getting late now.

you gave him a smile and a wave when you’re some meters away, knowing you’d meet him — mirabel again tomorrow. he returned the favor, but the smile almost immediately disappear when you turned around. because for him it feels like this will be the last time.

ridiculous. he just need to grab all the courage he’s got and talk to you. that way there will be more possibilities. yes.

no. no he can’t — what if you don’t like him back? how about he keeps seeing you in secret like this for a bit more, disguised as mirabel? so you could know him better, and him vice versa. isn’t that a great idea? sure let’s do it.

this keep going for a week, weeks turned to months. you do noticed about the little changes and differences when you look closely, of course you do. but you choose to not say anything, only keep it as self’s suspicions.

until one day…

“mirabel! let’s meet again later tonight in our secret meet spot, there’s something i want to ask you about” you announced to your close friend, mirabel.

she blinked while give you a puzzled look, “what secret place?”

this time it’s your turn to be surprise. “that place. the one we often meet, don’t you remember?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” she protested, scrunching up her nose as she try to recall. although not a single memory comes up.

“it can’t be —“ that’s the moment you realised. now it all clicked… if it’s not her; then the only person who can transform into someone else, the one and only, camilo.

“y/n… you alright?” mirabel asked, touching your shoulder with concerns.

“it’s camilo, isn’t it?” you testified. catching mirabel’s wide eyes and flustered attitude. before shot her a look to spilled out everything. mirabel then sighed in defeat and told you the truth, under a fact that she really has no idea camilo kept seeing you after that day.

you listened, completely indulged by the new cognition. and when she finished, you impart her one last question and a favor.

“then, tonight. please tell him to meet me at our usual spot. don’t worry, he’ll know what i meant”

so that’s how it is. you sat in the middle of a meadow, full of variety colours of beautiful flowers. a special secret place that with only small group of people know, camilo found it first and is the one who introduced you to it.

although the way here might not be so pleasant, for it’s some distance into the forest; especially if it’s dark. like around this time. but it really worth it though, you can open-heartedly confirm on that one.

a rustle of grass behind you snapped you back from your thoughts, and you whipped around, to see him. camilo looks down at his feet while he hold his fingers in a light grip in front.

“camilo” you began, voice calm. even though it still make camilo shrunken at the sound of you voice.

before you could asked him the question he’s been scared to answer. he interrupted first saying, “you found out. i know, i’ve heard from mirabel already. i’m so sorry y/n, i didn’t mean it to turn out like this. i only wanted to see you and talk to you like i’m someone close to you because…” he paused, gulping and took a deep breath to brace himself for the next line.

“because i like you y/n. a lot. ever since the first day we met. you’re always so kind and i can’t help feeling warm and fuzzy everytime you’re around. at first i thought i only liked you as a friend, turns out it’s something much more deeper than that. and it’s love, i guess…” camilo trailed off, his ears and cheeks are dusted reddish pink colour.

you were speechless. stunned and in complete shocked by his words. did he just… confess?

“but it’s totally alright if you don’t feel the same. that’s totally understandable and i’m sorry. i —“

camilo got interrupted by a pair of arms wrapped around his torso, it took him a moment to realized that it’s you.

“i like you too camilo, all along. i just have never been brave enough to tell you. thank you camilo, you’ve no idea how glad i am to hear that” you let your emotions overcome and say everything you’ve stored since long ago.

camilo returned your hug. feeling exactly the same.

and you two stayed there for some minutes, no words exchanged. just two people relish into each other’s presence. until you pulled back to cupped his face in your hands. warm smile splayed and eyes dried happy tears.

“i know this might sound a bit cheesy but… i love you camilo”

a tender sweet kiss on your lips is enough answer you needed. the moon is grinning and the stars aglow as if they were congratulating to the new pair of lovers.

likes or reblogs are highly appreciated!

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

For Vampire Chris! What if he and Jake went to a museum and came across some of Tooley's paintings? And Chris has a panic attack! We would finally get some Jake comfort. And maybe Chris would reveal more horrible things that Tooley had done to him.

CW: Discussion of death, blood, vampire whumpee, caretaker and whumpee

The sun sets early in the winter, and it's the only reason they can make this work.

Chris is barely awake even so, sipping from a coffee cup Jake filled with the contents of one of his blood packs, hoping he doesn't trip and spill and lead to Jake having some very awkward, panicked explanations to make to anyone nearby.

He'd slept in the truck Jake borrowed from Nat most of the way over here, curled in the passenger seat. He looks for all the world like any high schooler who stayed up too late the night before, dragged out by his family, forced to go learn when all he wants is rest.

Chris is draped in a hooded sweatshirt pulled on over his head, hair mussed from sleeping in the closet in the little nest-bed he made for himself in there. It sticks out like stray from beneath the hood he's pulled up, coppery strands occasionally covering his eyes and making him shove them out of the way with a snort that has no right to be as adorable as it is, considering the monster who makes the sound.

Not a monster, no. Not really.

Or his monster, anyway, the same way his mother is his mother. Jake is starting to understand the little vampire - more than three times his own age - has chosen him for family now.

The sweater he wears is kind of a joke, actually. Jake bought it weeks ago from a website that puts the covers of books on clothes, and it's an old cover image from Dracula.

Jake thought it was funny, anyway. Nat was less amused. Chris only smiled and said something about being happy the hairy palms thing isn't true.

The air is chilly, and Jake shivers a little as they head in from the parking lot across a small sidewalk next to a park and toward the museum itself, but of course Chris doesn't even notice. He seems to be enjoying it, the way it blows around his hair as they make their way slowly up the steps and past the row of Grecian-style columns that mark the entrance.

Jake has to visit for one of his classes, an extra-credit something-or-other, and Chris had asked to go along with him.

Jake had been hesitant, but seeing the way the vampire's green eyes sparkle as he moves around in public like any other person, well... he feels like he made the right choice to bring him along now.

"Finish up your drink, you can't take anything in once we pay and get past the lobby," Jake says, and Chris nods, gulping the last of the blood as fast as he can as they push through wide double-doors. Jake tries not to imagine how it must feel, swallowing thick congealing cooled blood. Someone's life, someone's heartbeat, down your throat...

Really, is he that much different? Jake has eaten a dozen cows' worth of beef in his life.

Does Chris see them all as just livestock? He doesn't act like it, but then, there are people who treat pigs or cows like pets and not like food...

His stomach flips a little and he forces himself to look around, up at the chandelier at the high ceiling, the heavy wooden desk they have to walk to off to the side to get their tickets. To stop trying to understand if Chris is a sort of stray they've adopted, or if he's a higher-level predator living with prey.

Once Chris drops the cup into a trash can, Jake throwing a couple wadded-up tissues on top so no one can accidentally see the smear of red around the edge of the lid, they buy their tickets, and wind their way through and past the little velvet ropes that mark off the entrance.

The museum opens before them into a grand hall, with paintings the size of two-story buildings on either side, permanent installations in the museum. Commissioned for its opening, sometime back in the 70's.

Jake picks up a brochure so they know which way to go - LGBTQ+ Art in Pre-War America is the temporary exhibit he's here to see, traveling work that is usually housed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.

"Oh, nice, it's on the first floor. Looks like you go through a couple of 'specialty' rooms, just showing off stuff from the in-house collection. Sounds cool, right?"

Chris, looking from side to side at the gigantic paintings that hang on the walls in the opening hall, hums softly, a tuneless constant sound. He doesn't answer Jake's question. He hums often, and Jake barely notices any longer, but there's something edged to it, now. As if just being around the paintings is making him nervous.

"Okay, little man, let's go over here." He touches Chris's arm, lightly, through the thick fabric of his sweater. The vampire looks over at him, smiling with his lips pressed together to hide his teeth from any potential prying eyes.

He follows easily, but he sticks closer to Jake than he normally does, and his eyes are constantly roving. They move through an exhibit of Pre-Colombian pottery first, on their way to the room in the back where the temporary showcase is.

Jake watches Chris's fingers twitch with the urge to touch, to learn by feeling the bumps and ridges in the ancient clay, and how he holds back as best he can. His urge to lift the clear protective plastic boxes right off the pottery so he can get at it is nearly physically painful.

Jake pretends not to see it when Chris's fingers trail along a column, settling for the white-painted rectangle the pottery is balanced on, taking in the rough texture smoothed by the matte paint.

"Did you ever meet anyone like you that was old enough to have made stuff like this?" Jake asks, stopping in front of a water jug in the shape of a man playing a flute with a dog at his feet. The dog wears a carved smile marked with disturbingly human-looking teeth. The paint it must have been covered in is worn by time, leaving the reddish-brown of the clay behind, with the faintest streaks of white still in the crevices.

"No," Chris replies, tilting his head, making direct eye contact with the statue in a way he never quite can do with any real person. Not comfortably, anyway. Jake has seen him force it and shudder afterwards, overwhelmed. When he'd asked about it, Chris had said he never liked looking at anyone's eyes, even before, when he was alive. It's too much, was all he would say. It's always too much. "None, um, none of us live that long."

"Why not?" They're alone in the room. It's the only reason Jake feels safe asking.

Chris's tongue runs over the sharpening bumps of his growing-in fangs, pressing against them, easing the itch and the ache of their return. After a second, he pulls a plastic bat on a cord from inside his sweater and puts the bat into his mouth, chewing on it idly, jaw working. "I, I, I don't know. That's just what what what my, my, my pack told me."

"I thought vampires lived in covens."

"No." Chris doesn't elaborate on this one. He can be weirdly secretive about how he lived before he came to Nat's, before he was pulled out of a basement, a living drug for a wealthy asshole.

Secretive, or just forgetting whatever wasn't essential.

He moves away to another pedestal, a shard broken off of a larger vessel, marked with a deep white and intense black angular design. He hums again, and Jake takes the hint and leaves him alone.

They spend several more minutes looking over the pottery before they head through a second room full of what must just be the favorite pieces of museum employees, as there doesn't seem to be much rhyme or reason, and each little card with the name of the piece and its maker has a paper next to it with a note on why each employee loves this piece in particular. Chris lingers around older things, a woven tapestry from medieval England, landscapes from the 19th century. He stares for a while at a painting called The Country Path by Joseph Poole Addy, a pale watercolor of winter trees with bare branches breaking the line of sky and a woman bundled in a coat carrying a basket down an equally colorless road.

Chris's humming getting louder, and he rocks a little, forward and back, his eyes moving again and again through the lines of the painting.

Jake wonders what it is about this one specifically that catches Chris like that, and when the vampire finally moves on he checks the employee's statement. Joseph Poole Addy, Irish painter in the 19th and 20th centuries, blah blah, something something countryside... Jake frowns, and glances over at Chris, who isn't looking back. He's moved on to something else.

Jake decides to ask him later.

They make it to the exhibit they're here to see, and Jake whistles under his breath as he enters. There are vibrant, saturated paintings lining the walls, a couple of large sculptures on the floor that still are taller than he is, a few smaller ones on pedestals. The work is mostly figurative, although there's some early abstraction there, a hint of the contemporary push to take even figurative work out of simply being an echo of a real life thing.

Chris looks at a sculpture, his head cocked so far to the side it looks almost birdlike, not quite human. Jake thinks his own neck would ache for days if he tried to do that. "Must've been, um, later," He mumbles to himself.

Jake files that away in his mental list of things to talk to Chris about later.

He walks slowly along the line of paintings. The whole point of being here is that he's supposed to pick a specific piece and write a short essay about it and the artist who made it, prove he saw it in person.

The class itself is about how to encourage better outcomes for healthcare in marginalized populations - but if she's giving out extra-credit for looking at queer art, well, Jake is happy to spend an hour in a museum.

After his dismal performance on the last test, he could use whatever credit he can get. Besides, the exhibit is actually kind of cool with that in mind. Every one of these artists was in some way outside of the sort of het ideal, and Jake smiles a little as he catches the heaviness of a look between two men seated across a table from one another, looks over the clasped hands of women, sitting with everything from shoulder to hip touching, who are listed as 'friends visiting the riverbank'.

Art that celebrates, hidden in plain sight. Art that rebels by sliding details in under the surface where only those looking for them will find them.

Each piece has another little paper, although this just has details about the artist and their work, what they were known for. He can use it as a jumping-off point for his paper, anyway.

"You, you, you finished her," Chris whispers, standing in front of a sculpture of a woman with her head thrown back as if in uproarious laughter, a woman with curls expertly carved so that her hair seems to have been there before the stone it's made of somehow. "I wonder if she, um, if if if she saw it."

"What'd you say, Chris?" Jake blinks, pulled out of his own internal reverie.

"Nothing," Chris responds, and walks slowly around the statue. The woman's smile is a shining light in the room. No one could carve like that without being at least a little in love with the subject.

Jake wanders away and then comes to an abrupt stop before a large painting, probably taller than Chris is. The background is near-total darkness with only a suggestion of stone, a single beam of light shining down to illuminate the central figure.

A naked boy clothed only in scraps of torn cloth that only emphasize his nakedness everywhere else is crouched in terror. His knees are bent and his feet are on the floor, one hand holding his weight with fingers slightly curled, his spine bent and arched as if he is caught in the midst of turning to look up to find the direction of the light. His other hand is thrown out, as if trying to ward off an attack.

He bleeds from a dozen or more places, the blood curving perfectly around his form, giving it extra weight and heft that makes it seem like he'll step out of the canvas, grab Jake, and shake him.

Jake's heart starts to race as he stares.

There are bones littering the ground around the thin, wasted boy, not bleached but sort of yellowed, marked with little notches as if cut with a knife. There might still be bits of skin attached to some of them, a hint of muscle. The detail makes Jake sick, but his panic, that comes from something else entirely. Just behind the panicked boy there is a body, as if just fallen, the eyes still open in the final terrified throes of death. The body's fingers are still dug into the dirt floor as if the dead man had been trying to pull himself somewhere, to escape.

A skull watches with eerie cheer from one corner of the painting, a few teeth missing and knocked out from its garish grin.

Barely visible, a thin wash of grayish-white, there is a pale, gnarled hand near the bottom reaching out from the background as if to grab the boy's ankle and drag him into the darkness.

Count Ugolino's Last Son, oils, 1932, reads the little plaque beside the painting. Its faint brassy shine glints in the carefully calibrated light. Edward Tooley, 1907 - 1936.

Jake swallows, but the lump in his throat doesn't budge, and he swallows again. And again. He can't take his eyes off the boy's painted hair, a dirtied copper, strawberry-blond badly in need of a wash. The wide green eyes with their terror writ large and clear, painted with lovingly perfect detail.

The boy in the painting is the perfect identical twin of the vampire who is still staring at the sculpture on the other side of the room. The fear in his face is so expertly done as to seem more photographic than painted in oil. The blood that drips to the ground follows his anatomy with absolute perfection. The bones are not bleached by they so often are in paintings, no, these...

These...

Jake holds his phone up and takes a photo, and then another of the little plaque.

"Chris." His voice cracks and Jake clears his throat. His heart is still pounding. "Chris, come look at this."

"Yes, Jake," Chris answers, sounding a little faint, and then he seems to simply appear at Jake's elbow, the teenage boy who has seen two world wars and a half-dozen smaller, stupider ones.

He goes still at Jake's side when he looks up. Jake looks over, just slightly, glancing sidelong to see a look of something like... wistfulness on the vampire boy's face.

"Tooley," He breathes. His hand goes up, and out, and he would have touched the canvas if Jake hadn't reached out and grabbed on to stop him. Chris jumps a little and turns to meet Jake's gaze. His eyes are pink-tinged in the whites, as if he's holding back tears. "Is, is, is he famous?"

"I guess. He's... he's here, isn't he?"

"He always wanted to, um, to to to to be famous." Chris's eyes move over the details, but it's not with surprise, it's with easy familiarity. He's seen this painting before.

He's been this painting before.

"That's you, isn't it?" Jake asks in a hushed voice. "Like, that was really you."

Chris looks away again, a faint flush in his cheeks. He's full enough of blood for it to happen, and you'd never know he isn't alive if you didn't already. "Yes," He whispers, and wipes at the corner of his eye with one hand. "That, that, that's me."

"Were you his model?" Jake blinks, looking back over the painted twin of the vampire beside him. The fear in the boy's face, woven in with a kind of awful resignation. It's all so perfectly rendered.

"Yes. Sort, um. Sort of. He, he, he kept me in a room." Chris exhales, slowly, and his eyes shift over to the paper with the little bit of biographical information on it. Edward Tooley's early works focused on landscapes or retreads of common historical subjects, only to find greater excellence and focus when he began to paint, again and again, the same figure - a representation of the darkness of the human soul - he stated appeared to him and demanded to be portrayed... art historians believe Tooley was driven by the demons of the Great War that had taken his family from him one by one to seek out uncomfortable subjects that force viewers to see the damage humans do to one another...

Chris's nose wrinkles as he reads, his lips moving slightly with the words as he takes them in. "I never did that. Never, um, wanted to be painted. Also, um this, um. He was... wasn't... he wasn't... wasn't like the paper says."

Jake looks over, reads it himself. Gregarious, sociable, popular with the libertine art crowd... he frowns. "What part is wrong?"

"This." Chris points, this at least he can safely make contact with, and presses the pad of his finger under a sentence that reads took inspiration from the ugly side of the city hidden under its shining lights. "He, he, he he didn't care about anyone in the city. He thought everyone who, who who who who-who wasn't him was, um, was stupid."

"What did he care about?" Jake imagines telling his professor that instead of an essay, he's going to bring in a vampire who literally knew one of the artists in person. How she might react.

Probably call the cops and report an unsecured vampire loose on the streets. But maybe she'd listen to what Chris had to say first.

"Blood," Chris says, softly. His voice is getting lower and lower, until it's barely more than a whisper. "Pain. Fear. Being... being the the the the last person who, who saw someone. He, he, he, he liked to lay them out and paint them, liked me to, to, to... arrange them for him."

Jake's eyes go unwillingly back to the dead body behind the scared boy in the painting. The grasping fingers, the open eyes that look sightless, lifeless, at nothing at all. When he looks, he can see - more suggestion than made clear - that the body's throat is torn open, as if by an animal's teeth.

Now, only now that he's looking for it, does he realize there is the slightest hint of red tears on the cheeks of the painted boy, a sheen of pink on his teeth where he begs for mercy from the grasping singular hand coming out of the dark.

His stomach flips again. "Chris, are you saying-"

"His, his, his name was Ben." Chris nods at the dead body in the painting. "I asked. Before..." He gestures, a little vaguely. "That."

Jake feels a sudden, wild urge to look up missing persons cases from New York City in 1932. See if there's anyone named Ben on there. He knows without having to do so that there definitely will be.

"What happened to him... after?"

"I don't know. I, I, I was never let out when Tooley was gone. I... wonder how, how, how many of me there are." Chris looks up at the echo of his own face, his head tilting again. His lips tremble, just a little, and then part to show the hint of white teeth wet with pinkish saliva. "On walls, in houses, in... in places like, um. Like this. How many there are... is, is, is, is that what I still look like?"

Jake clears his throat again, looks down at his feet. This feels, suddenly, like he's walked in on someone looking down at his own dead body in a funeral home. Interrupting a moment so immensely private it shouldn't even exist.

"Yeah," he says, a little gruffly. "Yeah, that's it. More or less. Except I hope I scare you less than that. Also you wear a lot more clothes with us."

Chris laughs - it's a huff of sound, barely-there. Then he turns away from himself. "We, we, we can't see ourselves, in mirrors," He says, and he's got the little plastic bat back in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the carved silicone. "But I have mirrors everywhere. On these walls."

He goes suddenly terribly still. He isn't breathing.

He doesn't have to, but the realization that he isn't even pretending is a jolt of awareness of exactly how dead Chris is. He leaves the exhibit, and Jake is left to scramble after him, struggling to catch up to someone he should be able to easily outrun.

He breaks into a flat run when they get outside the double-doors, jumps the steps three at a time with grace, and runs across the grass and towards the stand of trees halfway across the park. Even Jake, who works out four days a week, is breathing hard and has a hitch in his rib by the time he catches up.

He finds Chris curled up under a tree in the evening dark, the stars starting to twinkle overhead as the sun finally allows them a clear night sky to shine in.

Jake drops to his knees, ignoring the damp that seeps into his jeans from soil that still hasn't dried since yesterday's rains, and he leans over, putting a warm hand to either side of the vampire's face.

Chris looks up, his eyes glinting like a cat's briefly in the dark, and there are trails down his cheeks, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl that is anything but angry.

No, this is grief.

This is loss.

Jake knows the feeling.

"Talk to me," Jake says softly. "Tell me what it was like, what it's been like for you. Tell me about the life you've lived before I knew you."

"It, it, it hurt," Chris whispers, and his own hands cover Jake's. They're the same temperature as the air around them, and Jake shivers a little. It's almost a chill. "Every time. I, I, I try not to kill, Jake, I try so hard, but but but he would keep me so hungry and I couldn't-... stop..."

Jake thinks about the robbers Chris killed - for him, to save him from them - and how he'd locked himself in the closet afterward. Had he cried like this, over taking lives even when in defense?

"The museum thing said this guy Tooley died in 1936. He was only, what, twenty-nine? Did... did you-"

"Yes." Chris's voice is thick but it's not quite with regret. "I was hungry. He, he he he he didn't bring food. I was so hungry... then I was, um, was alone for a while... then, then, then, then then then I was taken for, for, for the, um, the trade, for my v-venom, and..."

"Got it. I got it, Chris. It's okay," Jake says, softly. "It's going to be okay. You're with us, now. And we'll never, ever make you hurt someone that way. We'll never make you go hungry. We'll never hurt you or use you."

Chris ducks his head, rocking forward until it knocks into Jake's shoulder, and Jake slides his arms around the vampire's shoulders, listening to his soft, muffled sobs, wondering how red his shirt will be stained by the time the vampire's tears have been cried out.

The same mouth that tore out the throat of a dead body that lays in a painting on the wall is so close to his neck it would take less than an inch for him to bite down. Even without fangs, he could lock his jaw and break the skin.

The same dangerous monster that has killed likely dozens to stay alive, the same stalking predator that has been the last sight of far too many, cries in his arms. Just a teenage boy who has been lonely, and terrified, and hurt for too long.

A teenager... and a monster that hunts prey after dark. Jake tightens his arms around Chris, holds him tighter.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter how long he's been alive, not really.

He's just Chris.

That matters more.

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

#whump #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #blood tw #recovering whumpee #caretaker and whumpee #nonhuman whumpee #immortal whumpee #vampire #vampirism #vampire fiction #horror fiction #original fiction #whump writing #chris the strawberry blond romantic #vampire chris au #past torture

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cocobear137 · 3 years

Text

✖•• Who Needs Words ••✖

Bakugo Katsuki x blind reader one-shot

▲ Trigger Warning ▲ : Harsh Language

Quirk: Echolocation. The user can see through the soundwaves from other voices, objects, and their voice. This makes their ears very sensitive.

Nothing could stop Y/N. Even after losing her sight to her father. It was by accident and her father didn’t mean to. His quirk can steal one out of the five senses from another person. And it so happened that his daughter, Y/N wanted to see his quirk in action. That, however, resulted in a quirk malfunction and the loss of her eyesight. From then on, her father never used his quirk. Lucky enough, Y/N inherited her mother’s quirk.

But despite her disability Y/N continued to strive to be a hero. Now, here she was at U.A. Ready to take the day on. Class 1-A. Pretty chill class off the bat on the first day. Expect an angry blonde named Bakugo Katsuki. He was loud and rude. Y/N tried to stay away from him as much as she could. But he was unavoidable. Something about the girl made the blonde want to be around her. Maybe it was her glossy eyes. Maybe it was how stubborn she was. Maybe it was the light blush that would appear on his face whenever she would yell at him to bug off, that made him want to stay. Y/N’s days at U.A were spent with Bakugo annoying her all the time and she doing that same back to him. It was a fun game they both played. But no one in the class knew she was blind, it looked like it was part of her quirk. Her quirk allowed her to move around without seeing.

At the U.S.J. all Y/N could hear were to Oh’s and awes of the other students. She mentally rolled her eyes. While Thirteen was giving her speech and blah blah blah, Y/N tuned her out and drifted into her world. The sound of screams and running footsteps were fading into the distance. But Y/N was so confused. What happened in the small amount of time she wasn’t paying attention.

“Y/N what are you doing run! Don’t you see the villains!?!” Kirishima yelled at her.

“Ummm… No.” Y/N shyly responded but no one hears her as the sound of explosions. The explosions were so close to her that her ears began to ring. Y/N felt strong arms wrap around her and a cold feeling engulfing both her and the person holding her.

A moment later she felt the harsh cold ground. The vibration on the floor told that a battle was happening nearby, but the ringing in her ears didn’t allow her to see what was going on. But the last bits of vibrations and the loud and heavy footsteps towards her body meant that someone was coming.

“What the hell! Why didn’t you run? I had to go back for your lazy ass!” It was Bakugo. After avoiding the boy, here he was, yelling at her. The ringing faded and now can hear and see a little bit better.

“Geez, you could've left me there. I would've been fine on my own.” An annoyed Y/N remarks.

“Can’t do much if you can’t see. Why did they even let you into U.A in the first place.”

“I earned my place here at U.A even with my disability. I’d wonder why they let a loudmouth, rude, Pomeranian into a school training heroes. You’d make a great villain with your attitude.”

“Heh! I shouldn’t even be compared to a villain because I’ll be the number one hero!”

“Keep dreaming, dog.”

“Hah!!! What did you just call me?”

“Bakugou! Bro, chill. Hey Y/N, your awake! I left Bakubro here to watch over you while I tried to find a way out. Come on we need to find our teachers.”

As the two followed Kirishima, they bickered silently by mocking each other. Y/N making faces resembling Bakugou’s angry face and Bakugou growling at her remarks while pettily sticking out his tongue. The red-head was oblivious to the commotion going on but the small pop sounds almost made the boy look behind him.

As soon as they made it to the center of the U.S.J. Bakugou kept Y/N back. This didn’t please Y/N. She earned her place and she gets the right to keep it. She tried to make herself useful, but each time Bakugou stopped her. Eventually, Bakugo handled her to Kirishima and kept her in his arms.

After all the chaos, the students gather and checked. All Might and the other teachers came to the scene just in time. Only Midoriya was badly injured. To say Y/N was mad was an understatement. She came to this school to be a hero, not a bystander. The students were sent home. but before Bakugo could leave through the blue arches of U.A. Y/N called out not too far behind.

“Bakugou! What do you think you were doing!” Anger, as clear as day, showed in her tone.

“What do you think I was doing! I was protecting you!” Bakugou didn’t turn to Y/N.

“I don’t need protecting! I am a hero in-training!”

“You can’t see, dumbass. Come to me in a straight line.” He mockingly called.

“Fine!” Y/N said as she snapped her fingers once. Able to see through her quirk exactly where Bakugou was standing. And step by step she walked right up to the idiot boy and smacked him right across the face. “I can walk, run, jump, and see. I don’t need your protection.”

“Heh. Well then, can you protect yourself from me?”

“Wha-.” Before Y/N could get a full word out of her mouth, Bakugou’s lips were on hers. It didn’t take her quirk to know what she was feeling or what was going on. Her heart was speeding and her face heated. She didn’t need her sight to see that she was flustered. When they needed air, Bakugou pulled away. And he stood there looking at her, knowing that she couldn’t see him.

"You talk too much for someone who needs sounds to get around." Bakugou chuckled. Y/N could see clearly that he was smiling.

"Talk about yourself, Pomeranian."

➜✉ This piece went through a lot of revising but I hoped you enjoyed this one-shot and thank you so much for reading!

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that-guy-sleepy-miles · 3 years

Note

Sideribus Inlustris for Spicynoodles?

Word Count: 2323 ______ “You’re not supposed to be here!” MK whisper-yelled. Red Son was in his window, dressed in only his turtleneck and pants. His coat was gone, and it just… straight-up freaked out MK to see his actual shoulders. “Why are you even here?”

Red Son shushed him and looked outside warily. He jumped into the room and slid the window shut. He ducked down and peeked out the window, before looking to MK. What in the world was this crazy demon doing.

“I ran away.” Red Son whispered.

“You what?!” MK shouted. Red Son quickly shushed him again. “Okay sorry, but what?? Why did you run away?”

Red Son looked back over the windowsill and then rushed over to the bed. He jumped over it and peered over the covers just a bit. Nothing yet. He sighed and pulled himself up onto the bed.

“Mother was being overbearing.” He said, pushing MK over so that he could get a better spot to sit.

“Hey!” MK shoved him lightly. “Anyway- Why the hell is my room your first thought for when you run away from your mom?”

“Your room is such a dump, she’d never touch it!” Red Son stuck his tongue out at MK.

“Hey! I’ll have you know it’s a very nice place to live. I have all my stuff right where I need it!”

“You could achieve the same thing with a cabinet.”

“No, organizing things makes me lose it.” MK flopped back onto the bed and turned his eyes to the ceiling.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Red Son rolled his eyes and copied MK.

He stared up at the ceiling and the peeling stickers barely hanging onto it. They looked old and had a faint glow to them, the kind that looks like it was once brilliant but had faded with age. He looked at them for a few more seconds before MK noticed what was going on.

“Oh! I guess you’ve never seen those before- Those are my Super Stars!” MK leaned down and pulled a few fallen ones out from under his bed. “Pigsy got them for me. He didn’t really have any experience with raising kids, much less with teenagers, so he ended up getting me a bunch of little kid stuff.”

He turned the stars over in his hands fondly, taking in their faint glow. “He thought I wouldn’t like ‘em, but I ended up putting them up and keeping them there. They help me sleep at night.”

“They seem dumb.” He said blankly, peering over MK’s shoulder at the yellowed stickers. MK turned around and flicked him right on the forehead dot. “Hey! Don’t touch that, it’s a symbol of m-”

“Your powers, your important family, your important lineage- Blah blah blah.” MK rolled his eyes and tossed a star at Red Son’s face. “I will listen to you talk about your ‘amazing family’ if you don’t insult my actually important Glow Stars.”

“I thought they were Super Stars.” Red Son rubbed his forehead.

“Same thing.” MK sighed. “Anyway! They’re really important to me, and better than the real stars anyway.”

Red Son snorted, “No they’re not! Have you ever even seen real stars, Noodle Boy?”

“Yeah! And they’re boring and you can barely see them!” MK huffed. “Go on, look outside if you wanna be such an asshole.”

“I will go look outside at the beautiful stars, thank you very mu-” Red Son stopped talking when he got to the window and saw only but two or three stars. The North Star, Betelgeuse, and another one- no that was a plane. “What the- Noodle Boy! Why didn’t anyone tell me the stars here were subpar?!”

“They’ve been like that my whole life.” MK chuffed, reaching down beside his bed to find a- Chocolate bar! Score!! “It’s kinda boring looking at the same ones all your life.”

Red Son looked up at the pitiful excuse for the night’s sky again. God, imagine growing up with those! He thought of the Flaming Mountains, the beautiful nights he’d spent with Mother and Father there… MK didn’t have a Mother and Father, and no night sky to sit under with them!

“How come you don’t know what the stars look like anyway?” MK bit into his chocolate bar, “You’ve been here for like, a while right? Long enough to know the city layout and find the staff.”

“I spend my nights creating machines to CRUSH YOU! I don’t have time for your city’s measly stars.”

“But you have time to run away from your mom and break into my house?”

“That is different!” He rolled his eyes and walked back to the bed. He plopped down next to MK and groaned. “This place SUCKS! Has anyone ever told you that? Told you how much this place sucks?”

“I think my room is nice!”

“No, not your room Noodle Boy! I mean the city. It’s stuffy and crowded and the air gives me headaches- and then I find out there aren’t even stars!” Red Son groaned, covering his face with his hands. “There is nothing good here!”

“I’m here.” MK tried, “That has to be something, right?”

“Though I enjoy fighting you, Noodle Boy, you don’t make up for your city’s many, many faults.” Red Son huffed, looking up at the Glow Stars. “Back at home Mother and I used to watch the stars every night. She would make sure it was nice and cool with her fan, because I overheat easily, and we’d just sit and watch the sky move…”

He counted the stars on the ceiling and sighed. He missed the flaming mountains, their beautiful jutting rocks that he used to climb to the top of, the wonderful villages with the tasty food they’d give to him for free, the statue to his dad they erected…

And now he was in this stupid, shitty city. You could barely find any dirt in this place, to begin with, and none of it was wonderful sandy red. None of it kicked up when you ran or stained your clothes so Mother would get mad at you and you could spend the day cleaning your clothes. Red Son liked hand cleaning clothes, getting his hands into whatever he was working on.

“I hate washing machines.” Red Son blurted after a minute or so of getting lost in the Glow Stars.

“Well, random, but… me too.”

“You hate everything that has to do with cleaning, clearly.” Red Son rolled his eyes. He sat up and pulled his hair out of his ponytail. He shook it out and it flowed down his shoulders and shifted color every second or so like a fresh flame. “Come on, I’m gonna show you some real stars.”

“Huh-? What do you me-” MK was cut off as they were surrounded in roaring flames. He screamed as he felt the bed underneath him leave and the world shift. He was weightless for a moment before fell on his ass into the dust of the Flaming Mountains. He yelped as he roughly hit the ground. “What the hell, man?!”

Red Son was standing and gently dusted his clothes off. He pointed to the sky snd looked up. “Stars.”

MK rolled his eyes and looked to the stars. They weren’t doing to be all the impressive, they were just balls of gas- Oh wow…. MK’s eyes go wide as he looks up at the night sky. There were so many colors.

The purple, blue, and spotted yellow of a nebula that split the sky, the red that washed itself over the horizon, the black that faded in and out between nebulae, and the light blues of thousands of stars. He could barely take it all in.

Red Son took a seat next to him, resting his head on his knees. He looked up to the stars, then back to MK’s amazed face. He chuckled as MK started to point to a few like a little kid.

“Oh! What’s that one?”

“Those are the Azure Dragon of the East. That one’s Jué. There’s Kàng, Dī, Fáng, Xīn, Wěi, and Jī.” Red Son pointed to the stars as he named them. “Over there’s the Black Tortoise of the North, the White Tiger of the West, and the Vermilion Bird of the South.”

“Woah…” MK was amazed, shocked by just how beautiful the stars were when you can see them. “They’re beautiful.”

Red Son looked at MK, his voice quiet. “Yeah. They sure are.”

“Do you have a favorite? I like the bright one right there!”

“That’s Běijíxīng, The North Star.” Red Son hummed. “My favorite is Dǒu Xiù…”

“The Dipper is a good one, yeah! I’ve heard of all of these, but I’ve never seen them before.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, MK taking in the stars and Red Son staring at MK in the light of the moon. The wind picked up, keeping them cool in the hot air of the Flaming Mountains. Red Son scooted closer to MK, placing his hand right next to the other boy’s. He almost placed it on top MK’s when-

Fwoosh!

There stood his mother, arms crossed and face set. MK jumped and hid behind Red Son, peering over his shoulder at the angry princess.

“Red Son!” She leveled him with a glare. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I- I-” Red Son looked around. “I am having a- a civil discussion with the Noodle Boy.”

“A civil discussion about stars? One that includes bedroom eyes?” She raised an eyebrow and MK sputtered.

“Yes?” Red Son tried.

Princess Iron Fan rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him up. “Come on! We’re going home. You almost scared me and your father half to death! You know how he gets when he doesn’t know where you are!”

“W-wait for me!” MK rushed to his feet and trailed after them as Princess Iron Fan dragged Red Son down the mountain.

“Running away and with the Noodle Boy no less?” She gave both of them a withering glare. “I’m disappointed in you!”

“Sorry, Mother…” Red Son rubbed his arm, looking down at the reddish sand under his feet. Princess Iron Fan sighed and stopped dragging him.

“It’s alright, just… let’s go home now. Your father is worried sick.”

“Really?”

“Yes of course! You disappeared in the middle of the night and we couldn’t find you until you stepped foot into my territory!” She hit him lightly on the head and started down the mountain again.

MK had to jog just to keep up with her walking pace. “Why are we heading down the mountain, Mrs. Princess Iron Fan Ma’am?”

“It’s too windy up there.” She hummed. “I could end up in the wrong spot.”

MK pulled his notebook out of nowhere and wrote that down. Red Son looked over to him and rolled his eyes.

“Mother, the Noodle Boy is collecting intelligence in order to defeat us in ba-”

“I’m still mad at you.” She cut him off.

She stopped suddenly and MK bumped into Red Son. He got a growl for his troubles and flicked Red Son again. Red Son’s hair sparked and he was just about to start yelling when his mother picked him up and wrapped them in wind.

MK landed face-first onto the fire escape, “Ow! Shit!”

“Language.” Princess Iron Fan said calmly, setting Red Son down.

“Mother! I can stand!” Red Son griped. “I’m not new to teleportation!”

“Well, I am!” MK forced himself up and leaned against the wall. “Give a guy a warning!”

“No.” She smiled.

MK groaned and slid into his room. He stretched out and then waved as Red Son and Princess Iron Fan were obscured by her winds.

“Hey, Noodle Boy!” Red Son called over the roar of the winds. “Now that you’ve seen the real thing, are your dumb ceiling stars still ‘better than the real stars’?”

“Yeah!” MK called back. “They’re still better!”

---

The fight had been difficult. They always were, the Noodle Boy was getting craftier and craftier with his fighting moves, and was impossible to get a hold on. Damn kid was slippery.

Red Son pulled himself up off of the ground and cracked his back. He was supposed to say something about how he’d be back for more, how he’d kill the Noodle Boy and help his parents conquer the world! But right now he just wanted to go home.

He raised his hand to start some magic, but stopped when the Noodle Boy called out, “Hey wait! I got something for you!”

“I don’t want whatever terrible peasant thing you have for me!” Red Son looked behind him anyway.

MK was digging into all his pockets like a mad man or someone who’d lost his car keys at the grocery store. Red Son rolled his eyes as MK reached into his left jacket pocket and pulled out- a packet of ceiling stars?

He presented them to Red Son with a smile that shone like the sun. Red Son swiped them from him and examined them with a scrutinous eye. He looked to MK then back to the packet a few times.

“What kind of joke is this?” He snarled, his hair sparking.

“It’s not a joke!” MK shook his head and sighed. “I thought you’d like them! You missed home, and you can’t be sneaking out every night, so I thought they’d help!”

Red Son raised an eyebrow and looked down at the packet. He shifted on his feet a few times before blushing a bit.

“T-thank you…” He said quietly, before disappearing into his flames.

“Anytim- Oh, he’s gone.”

When Red Son remembered the packet he’d slid in his pocket, he looked at it for a moment before putting them up onto his ceiling. He arranged them into the constellations he saw at home and then flopped back onto his bed.

“Beautiful…” He said.

#sav write #writing #spicynoodles #monkie kid #monkie kid shipping #lmk monkey king #lmk shipping #red son lmk #monkie kid red son #red son #MK #lmk MK #Monkie kid MK #sav request #ceiling stars #long post #writingamongther0ses

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

How you met Maya’s parents.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Kelly Olsen x Niece!Reader

Word count: 2545.

It was a normal Thursday. Until it wasn’t anymore.

Jamie and Maya were in front of the school waiting for their parents to come pick them up. You fell a little behind, because the school counselor wanted to make sure you sent your application for the robotics thing she had you applied for.

“I just want to make sure you won’t miss the date. It's very important and prestigious…” Blah-blah-blah. You know all of this. She’s been telling you about this program for two years now. You look at Maya and Jamie talking, wishing the counselor would just shut up and let you go already, so you could join their conversation that sounds way more fun.

“Oh, my parents are here.” You hear Maya’s voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

It’s all a blur after that. There is so much going on it’s hard for you to know what to do next. First, the school counselor is asking something about your project. Second, you hear a car accelerating on the street close to the school. Third, police sirens chasing said car. Fourth, Maya is crossing the street.

“MOM’S HERE, GOTTA RUN!” You yell, leaving a dumbfounded counselor behind. You change using your super speed.

You quickly pick up Maya, putting her on the other side of the sidewalk, and you run to the middle of the street to stop the car with your body. There’s a loud crashing sound, but you’re obviously not hurt. The police car stops behind it, and two cops leave it raising their guns at the two criminals still inside the car. They’re handcuffed and taken away in a little time, and just then you notice the crowd, the phones and the applause around you. You smile a little embarrassed from the attention.

You look to the sidewalk, and run to Maya, who’s being held by her dad while her mom asks her several questions on whether she is hurt, scared, and ok.

“Are you ok?” You add to the amount of questions.

“You saved me.” She says, eyes blown, pupils completely dark. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Superkid.” Her mother says offering her hand, as in for you to shake it. You try not to use much strength, although it is kind of hard given the situation you were just in and you’re still very worked up after it.

“You saved our daughter!” Her dad chimes in, also thankful. “There’s nothing we can say to thank you for that.”

“No need.” You smile, shyly. “Just doing my job.”

“Superkid!” You hear Jamie’s voice coming closer. “That was incredible. You saved her!”

“Thank you, Ja-” You bite your tongue. “Random girl.” Nope, too forced.

“Oh, is this your girlfriend, Maya?” Her mother asks and you blush furiously at the thought of them knowing about you. It takes you a while to realize they are NOT talking about you, but about Jamie.

“Oh, Ah. That’s, um-” Maya tries to use her words, but she’s too confused to do so. You decide to interrupt.

“Well, glad to see you’re ok.” You say looking back at the street where the cars are having a hard time moving because there’s a broken car in the middle of it. “I should take this car out of here.”

You pick up the car, and right before flying away with it, you hear:

“Oh my God, she’s so strong.” Coming from Maya’s mouth.

“That kid is amazing.” Her dad agrees, and you smile to yourself again, while taking the car out of the way.

A few seconds later, though, you’re back in the school, in your old clothes and glasses. Running towards Maya like you were there the entire time.

“Babe, are you ok?” You rush in, holding her hands and looking at them for any bruises. “I saw what happened from the other side.”

“Superkid saved her.” Jamie says, with a grin, like she’s just giving you brand new information, and you hold a laughter back.

“Actually, this is my girlfriend.” Maya says to her parents and they both shake their heads agreeing.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” Her dad raises his hand and you, and you shake it, politely.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Rose.” You say, still blushed from when he called you amazing a minute ago. You turn back to her mother. “Mrs. Rose.”

She doesn’t talk for a while. She just stares at you and you can see the wheels on her brain turning. Oh no. Not the…

“You’re a Luthor.” She says, matter-of-factly. Then turns to her husband. “She is Lena Luthor’s daughter. I’ve met them a while back.”

“What?” Maya’s dad lets go of her, turning rigid at the mention of your last name. “You can’t possibly be dating an evil Luthor.”

“She’s not evil!” You hear and you think it came from Maya’s mouth, only to realize a second later it was Jamie who said it, while reaching out, holding your shoulder to support you. “And her mother isn’t evil either. Just because Lex Luthor is the worst, doesn’t mean everyone in the Luthor’s family is too.”

You want to answer. You want to tell them to go fuck themselves because they just said you were amazing, and thanked you for saving their daughter’s life. And now they’re just staring at you like you’ve committed a crime, when you have done the exact opposite. But your words are stuck in your throat and your eyes are filled with tears before you can even form a sentence.

“You understand too little of the world, little girl.” It’s what her father answers. “You have no way to know that her mother is not evil, but I have. I’ve seen how L Corp treats people that dare to go against them.”

“Wait, you know my mom?” Your words finally come out, in complete shock and disbelief. Maya never mentioned any of that. She said her parents hated your family because Lex tried to mind control them, along with everyone else on Earth. And honestly, you know that feeling of being mind controlled by him, so you can’t blame them.

“We’ve met before.” He twists his nose while saying that. “A little too icy for my taste.”

“Dad, please. Let’s just go.” Maya asks, trying to push him out of the way.

You feel Jamie’s grip tightening around your shoulder, like telling you it’s time for you both to leave. You agree with your head, unclenching your jaw, still shooting daggers with your eyes. But, still, you breathe deep.

“Icy doesn’t mean evil. I hope you can understand that.” You say, and smile at Maya. “I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Come on. My mami is here.” Jamie pulls you by the hand, and you let yourself follow her trying to ignore their looks to your back. Jamie wraps her arms around you and whispers in your ear. “No super hearing. It won’t do you any good.”

“Nothing about this has done me any good.” You manage to say, and Jamie shoves you inside Kelly’s momvan. And you’re so lost and sad, you don’t even understand why you’re going with her when you can just fly away. Weirdly, flying doesn’t feel like an option to you right now.

“Is everything ok? I heard that there was a car chase around here.” Kelly asks when Jamie walks in, and sits on the passenger seat next to her.

“Superkid saved everyone.” Jamie says with a smile, and you can see a smile coming up on Kelly’s face, while she starts driving away.

“Good for you!” Kelly says taking one hand out of the wheel, and patting your leg gently. “You must be so proud of yourself.”

“Yeah, it’s-Mhm-it’s…” You start, but soon you’re crying desperately, being very loud about it. “It sucks!”

“Hey, hey. No!” Jamie looks behind and reaches out to you. But she doesn’t know what to do or say, and Kelly doesn’t really understand what’s going on. They stare at each other for one second, until Kelly turns to the front again, breathing deep.

“Where would you like to go, honey?” You know she is talking to you, even though she’s using Jamie’s pet name. “Do you want to go home? To our place? Maybe you want to tell me more about what happened?”

“I’m sorry, auntie.” You dry your face, holding your tears back. “You can just stop the car here, and I’ll fly to L Corp. I have to work on a project.”

“I’ll drive you there.” She says and you agree with your head, because you really don’t want to fly right now. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I’ll let Jamie fill you in after.” You shrug. “Right now, I just want to think about something else.”

They change the subject, but you don’t really pay attention to any of it. It feels so weird being loved when you’re wearing the ‘House of El’ crest on your chest, and just a minute later being hated on, when you’re wearing your glasses and there’s no alter ego helping you out of Luthor's name. One minute you’re Saving Face, the next one Earth Disgrace.

“Hey, little-Danvers.” Jamie says after Kelly parallel parks in front of L Corp. You look at her. “They’re dumbasses. They are the icy ones, ok?”

“Yeah. Thanks for your help back there.” You get out of the car and make your way inside the building. You know you have to work on your project, but you can’t even think right now, let alone come up with something new and innovatory. “Hey Aly, can you call my mom’s assistant and ask her if she’s busy right now?”

“Sure thing, Miss Luthor-Danvers!” Aly studies your face for a few seconds. “Everything alright, miss?”

“Um, yeah. It’s fine.” You agree and she does what you asked, even though she doesn’t look convinced at all.

“You can go up. She is not busy.” Aly says with a smile, and you match hers. You don’t even know what you’re going to say to Lena, but you feel you need her. You make your way to the last floor, and go inside her office. Lena stands up when she sees you, a smile on her face.

“There’s my little hero!” She says pointing at the images on the TV of you standing in front of the car. Hair blowing in the wind, hands on the waist, looking proud of yourself. Then she looks at you, looking sad and small in front of her. You get now why people think you’re two different people. These two images do not match. “My baby! What’s wrong?”

“I just want a hug.” You think about it for a second when you see her coming closer with arms open. “But I’d like some donuts more.”

Lena chuckles and asks her assistant to go out and buy you a box. She finally comes closer a while later, opens arms, and snugs you in. The tears come uninvited, and she just lets you cry for a while.

“Baby, what happened?” She presses when you don’t talk, only cry, for a few good minutes.

“I saved Maya.” You look at her, big watery eyes. “Her parents were so thankful, and it felt so good.”

Lena agrees with her head, because she understands how good it feels to save someone you love. It’s not the same as saving a person you’ve never met. Sure, both feel good. But saving someone you love is the most powerful and strong feeling you’ve ever felt.

“Then I was out of my supersuit and in my glasses and they just-” You choke on your words, and it’s like she knows what’s coming next. “They hated me!”

“Oh baby.” Lena brings you in for another hug. Tighter than the first one. She kisses your head a couple of times. “I’m sorry they can’t see what an amazing person you are. Suit or no suit. But that doesn’t make what you did today less important. It was incredible.” She holds your chin up, to look at her. “You’re incredible.”

“He said you are icy.” You say, and Lena’s response is a soft chuckle.

“Yes, well, men think that about powerful women.” She winks at you, unbothered. “I take it as a compliment.”

“Well, I don’t.” You pout and Lena cleans your face from your tears, same smile still on her lips.

“My love, they can only hurt us if we let them.” She says, raising her gaze at the door, calling her assistant in with the donuts for you. The box is placed on the table in front of you. Lena waits until she leaves, and turns back to you. “Come on, let’s eat donuts, and talk about how Superkid’s name is on everyone’s mouth today.”

“Is that a good thing?” You ask and she blinks at you like you’re asking a stupid question. You look back at the TV and see your video stopping the runaway car over and over again. Yeah. It’s a good thing.

Your phone rings at text, and you pick it up from your back pocket, while Lena goes for the donuts.

Maya: Sorry about my parents. They’re jerks.

You: Are you alright? It was quite the scare.

Maya: I’m 100% fine! Superkid saved me! Do you see now why she is my favorite hero?

You: Yes, I see now. I’m glad you’re ok. I’ll send a thank you card for your crush.

Maya: You’re my crush! Also, did I mention how sorry I am and how jerks my parents were?

You: You have.

Lena pulls your head towards her and kisses your forehead with a smile.

“You know, it’s not her fault her parents are jerks.” She says and you roll your eyes.

“Stop reading my texts.” You complain pretending to be upset, but you smile a little when she’s not looking.

You: Hey, we are not our parents, right?

Maya: No, we are not. You are the most comprehensive human being on the planet. That’s one of the things that make me love you.

You squeak in excitement when you read that, and stand up feeling so happy your feet don’t even touch the ground. You can’t stop reading the text over and over again.

“Hey! I brought donuts so we can celebrate you saving the people from your school!” Kara flies in, pink box in hands and Lena gives her an eyebrow raise.

“Beat you to it.” She adds with a smile, pointing at the pink box sitting on the table and Kara shrugs.

“The more the merrier!” Kara comes closer to you, pushing your shoulder down, making your feet touch the floor. “What’s with her?”

“Pretty sure her girlfriend just said she loves her.” Lena says with a smile, and Kara beams to you, looking as excited as you are.

“Seriously, you have to stop reading my texts.” You pretend to be annoyed, but you look back on your phone and a smile instantly comes.

You: You do, huh?

Maya: I do.

You: I love you too.

You love your girlfriend. You love being Superkid. You love donuts. And you love your moms very much. Turns out, your life’s insane, but it’s also pretty good.

Notes:

@sophixsa prompted this awesome idea, and I’m sorry it was a little sad at first, but happy ending, at least.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #supercorpfamily #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #kelly olsen

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