#who eats cinnamon buns like that stop it

[bunnidarling]

"Who eats them like that? You're embarrassing me." (help I love you so much my heart is exploding)

A post-victory visit to Mum's inn for Averyll's favourite food in all of Toril- his Mum's sweet rolls.

Gorgeous art by @shinkomiii

Read their story here

[shdous]

CINNAMON BUN — SHIDOU RYUSEI

whenever shidou gets attention from girls, he doesn’t turn it down. but why would he? that’s what you’re for.

contains: female reader, penetration, semi public (car sex), a creampie, pet names including cinnamon bun, jealous reader, shidou being himself (gross), he’s in his twenties. 3.3k words.

note: shidou nation where r u .. shidou nation come home

ryusei has a bad habit.

a bad habit of letting other girls flirt with him. he doesn’t return the energy of course, but he won’t exactly deny it either. he’s not going to flirt back—nor give off the impression that he likes what’s being said to him, but the words stop or i have a girlfriend probably won’t leave his mouth either.

why? well, you have your theories.

you’re sure he get a little ego boost out of it—out of knowing that there’s someone other than you who wants to get in his pants. because let’s be honest—no one that flirts with your boyfriend has the intentions of starting a fairytale romance with him. he draws attention simply because he looks like he’d be fun for one night and one night only.

but really, he doesn’t entertain that.

in fact, sometimes he won’t even open his mouth in that situation. instead, he’ll stand there with a shit eating grin on his face until the moment you inevitably arrive back at his side.

because ryusei only lets other girls flirt with him when you’re around.

⋆

“shidou, right? i wouldn’t mind leaving with you.”

you’re standing nearby, within both earshot and plain view of your boyfriend when you hear these words.

clubs, bars—neither are your usual idea of a fun evening, but ryusei likes going to them for a few reasons. one, he gets to bring his hot girlfriend along with him. two, he gets to be the guy at the bar with a hot girlfriend. three, he gets to see his hot girlfriend in a hot outfit—if he’s lucky.

and tonight he is, because here you are—skirt sitting pretty on your waist, lips glossed pink, listening in as another girl hits on your boyfriend.

how fun.

getting onto the tips of your toes, you furrow your brows and peer over the shoulder of a man who’s inconveniently placed himself in your line of sight. while at your peak—you absorb as much as your eyes can handle.

first—ryusei’s sitting at the bar counter about a chair and a half away from you. he’s leaning back, glass in his hand, and if you had to guess—you’d say he’s chewing on the straw sticking out of it. he has his usual black elastic headband holding back his hair, but if you had to guess—you’d say a few of his little baby hairs have escaped it’s grasp by now. second—his company is lingering over his left shoulder, with a hand resting on the back of his chair. she’s standing up, so she’s looking down on him slightly, and she’s smiling too.

ideally, the third piece of information you take in would be the words leaving her mouth—but you think hearing her initial line must’ve been a fluke anyways, especially with how busy it is. instead, what you catch is her hand moving—in what you swear is slow motion—to the back of his neck.

you trust your boyfriend, one thousand percent.

he’s made it blatantly obvious that his obsession with you runs deep—it would probably classify as being unhealthy, even. but if that’s the case, why isn’t he moving?

doesn’t matter.

you can move, and you are—swiftly abandoning your task of getting your hands on a drink menu as you begin closing the gap. you take a detour around the tall gentleman—brush past a couple of people, and come to a halt behind them.

you feel your stomach do a backflip or twelve as you stand there, waiting to be noticed.

ryusei must have a sixth sense when it comes to you, because it’s only mere seconds before he’s peering over his shoulder and locking eyes with you—straw indeed tugged between his teeth as a grin blossoms behind it.

but he doesn’t do much else.

on the other hand, you don’t receive a whole lot from the girl to your left either—an unimpressed stare at best. it’s clear that neither has anything to say to you, and so you speak up.

“that’s my boyfriend,” you announce, and you don’t mean for it to happen, but the words come out like the tip of a blade—incredibly sharp.

they pierce through her, and judging by the way she’s retreating—you’re certain your message is received. the tiny little hearts in ryusei’s eyes are merely nails in her coffin.

she vanishes into the crowd, and soon it’s just you, your boyfriend, and the arm he’s snaking around your waist.

he sets his glass on the counter of the bar, turns himself in your direction, and spreads his legs a little bit—silently requesting for you to stand in between them, closer to him.

you don’t do much—other than stare.

“what’s up, buttercup?” he hums, tilting his head at you when you don’t accept his invitation.

“what the hell do you mean what’s up?” there’s a sour taste flooding your mouth courtesy of your boyfriend’s casualness, and you’re sure it’s visible on your face—likely in the form of some furrowed brows and a little frown. “did you forget that you have a girlfriend?”

ryusei’s eyes widen, and for a brief second you think you’ve caught him off guard, but then his tongue darts out of his mouth—licking over his lips before they morph into a cheshire cat grin.

big or small, any change in your attitude is always going to have his ears perking up and his tail wagging—because as much as he loves when his girlfriend is a perfect angel for him, it turns him on when you start acting like anything less.

“how could i forget this pretty face?” he coos—putting on a faux pout as he reaches up to cup your cheek.

his gaze floods with lust as he looks at you, and even more so when he glides his thumb across your bottom lip—slightly smearing your gloss in the process.

“apparently it’s pretty easy,” you mutter, pushing his hand away and avoiding his gaze by casting yours off to the side.

“hey,” his voice is a bit firmer, and he uses that same hand to grab your chin—forcing your eyes to meet his. “don’t be like that, cinnamon bun.”

ugh.

you unintentionally earned yourself that atrocious nickname after your first ever real argument with him. it didn’t last long—a few hours tops (he can’t live without your attention) but still, he said he’d accept a punishment for his behaviour. his mind was, without a doubt, in the gutter when he made that little deal—and so naturally, you told him he wasn’t allowed to finish inside you for a week.

the world might as well have been ending.

but, your boyfriend is spoiled beyond belief. you ended up letting him fuck you anyways simply to avoid having to deal with his shitty attitude and complaining. the one condition was that he had to cum on you instead of in you, and well, it didn’t take long for cinnamon bun to catch on.

you used to hate the name, but you’re more or less immune to all the weird shit that leaves his mouth by now. still, he has a knack for using this one exclusively when you’re mad—or when you seem like you’re about to be.

“ryusei,” you sigh in annoyance, but still draw a bit closer to him—placing yourself between his thighs with a pout. you need to know. “why can’t you open your damn mouth and say you have a girlfriend? you have no problem opening it any other time. do you like it when other girls hit on you?”

of course he doesn’t.

what he does like however, is when his girlfriend sees, and she comes over to intervene. it’s hot as fuck. the words he’s my boyfriend leave your mouth and his dick starts throbbing in his pants. yes, he’s all yours—and he wants to hear you tell every single living being in the world. twice.

but if you knew this, would you still do it?

“you’re thinking too much babydoll,” he hums—leaning in to press his lips to your cheek, where he peppers a dozen little kisses. “y’know i don’t give a shit about anybody else.”

the way he dodges not just one, but both of your questions pisses you off—even though you know he’s being genuine. everyone who knows ryusei knows that he has little to no regard for anyone who isn’t you. that thought alone is able to bring you a bit of comfort. not enough, though.

“i wanna leave,” you mumble.

the bubble that had been surrounding you and ryusei for the past few minutes pops, and all of your senses come flooding back. the static sound of people, the scent of someone’s cheap perfume—the lights, the music, the ache in your feet that stretches from heel to toe—toes that were on their tips for a few seconds too long, all because your boyfriend couldn’t shut down another girl’s advances fast enough. or at all, for that matter.

you definitely, absolutely want to leave.

“yeah? where’re we goin’ cinnamon bun?” ryusei asks—squeezing your hand to get your attention back onto him.

and god, he’s so cute—blinking up at you with his long blond eyelashes and his innocent little smile. there’s a heaviness weighing on your chest, and you’re starting to feel like…you don’t want anyone else to even look at your boyfriend tonight.

“anywhere but here,” you say.

⋆

hand in hand, you and ryusei venture outside.

as you walk towards your car, all you can hear is the little angel on your shoulder. she’s telling you not to fault your boyfriend for any of this. it’s not like he did anything. however, there’s something rather unpleasant sitting on your other shoulder, and it’s telling you the opposite. because it’s not like he did anything, right?

“ryusei, keys.”

the keys to your car—they’re in his pocket. your phone is there too, along with some gum and a little scented hand sanitizer. you didn’t really feel like carrying a purse around tonight.

which, in hindsight, might’ve been a mistake.

“oh, you mean these?” he grins.

dangling in front of your face is, your keys. one of the charms you have clasped onto the ring sways from side to side, almost like it’s mocking you. you swipe at them—claws out—but his reflexes are much, much faster than your own.

“ryusei, i swear to f—”

“relaaax, you can have ‘em,” he chuckles—taking a few steps ahead of you before turning around and winking. “but it’ll cost ya,” he adds.

you’re not sure what makes him think he’s in any position to be making demands, but out of pure curiosity—you’ll indulge him, just this once.

“what do you want?” you sigh as you follow after him. he’s already waiting by your car.

“hmm, what do i want cinnamon bun?” he leans himself against the driver’s side door—spinning your keys around his index finger as he lets his predatory gaze roam over your body like it’s his next meal.

and you can put two and two together.

“what makes you think you get to fuck me after that?” you bark at him—a little harsher than you probably should have.

“oh baby, of course i get to fuck you,” he coos—grabbing your jaw a little harsher than he probably should have. “how else are we gonna get rid of this attitude? y’know i can’t bring you home like this, pouty face.”

“well, i’m the one with the license, so actually you aren’t bringing me anywhere,” you mutter.

ryusei laughs—but it’s more of a giggle, and not necessarily the cute kind. he sounds a bit like a maniac, to put it bluntly. and you have to remind yourself that you’re playing with fire right now. if anyone else were to give him this much trouble—well, they probably know better than to try.

“i’m bringing you to the backseat, aren’t i?” he grins—briefly sticking his tongue out, because it can never seem to stay in his mouth for too long. he then leans in and plants a wet, messy kiss to your lips. “c’mon, lemme see my favourite pussy make a mess on my cock.”

shit. whenever ryusei starts talking like this—it’s impossible to not want to do exactly as he says.

you’re definitely biased, but praise from him is second to none—a little filthier than what most would deem normal, but still first place in your eyes. he knows how to get you going—how to make you feel hot and desired, feelings you’ve become obsessed with—unhealthily, even.

“you’re spoiled,” you mumble—hand now resting on the handle leading to the infamous backseat. “and a brat.”

as you climb into your car, you feel a little warm—like you’ve been standing beneath the heat of the blazing sun for a little too long. except, it’s about ten o’clock, and you have goosebumps littering your arms from the bitter night air.

ryusei appears in the spot next to you a couple of seconds later, the middle seat to be precise. he settles in—leans back, spreads his legs a little bit.

he barely has the chance to finish doing so before you’re lifting your hips and wiggling out of your panties—leaving the lacy fabric behind on your seat as you climb onto your boyfriend’s lap—all without being asked.

“mmm, you suckin’ up to me now sweetheart?” his hands tunnel beneath your skirt, where he grabs onto the fat of your hips.

before you can answer with a snide remark about how he’s the one who should be sucking up, his lips capture yours in another kiss—because he’d be stupid not to. after all, you’re finally where he wants you.

his hands start to knead and squeeze at your hips, and those somewhat tame movements lose all their innocence when he starts grinding you down onto the growing bulge in his pants like you’re his personal toy.

and it almost feels a little too good.

the warmth of his palms against your skin, the way your clit is rubbing against the fabric of his pants—a couple minutes of this and you’re struggling to even kiss him back.

so you allow yourself a brief pause—prying your lips away from his and turning your head to gaze out the window. he’s content with focusing some of his attention on your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin while your heavy breaths threaten to turn into whines.

and now that you’re looking, you note how many cars are in this parking lot. you’re parked fairly far from the entrance, but it’s probably only a matter of time before other cars start to fill in the spots around you. what if someone were to—

fuck.

ryusei plunges two of his fingers, middle and ring, into your cunt—disrupting your train of thought while simultaneously forcing a little mewl out of you.

“yeah, nice ‘n’ sticky for me, hm cinnamon bun?” he hums, sliding his fingers out and holding them up—separating them so you can see that they’re visibly sticky.

“shut up,” you huff, pushing his hand away and turning your head to the side again as a little heat finds its way to your cheeks.

“awww, y’know i love my dessert, baby,” he coos—popping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“you’re gross,” you mumble.

but you’re still the one who’s reaching for the zipper on his pants. you’re the one maneuvering them down his thighs. you’re the one biting down on your lower lip in anticipation, because you might be the one who wants this more.

you wrap a hand around his shaft, pumping him a couple times before swirling a thumb over his oh so sensitive tip—spreading his pre cum. and you swear you can feel him pulsing, like his heartbeat is in his dick.

either love boners are real, or he’s already on the verge of an orgasm.

“c’mon, fuck me baby,” he whines as he bucks into your hand—patience growing thin with each second not spent inside you.

and it’s so hard to resist him when he looks this good—veins running up his forearms and tapering off, skin glowing beneath the artificial light seeping in through the windows, cock quite literally drooling in your hand.

your gaze flicks to the thin chain dangling from his neck. it has your initial on it. beneath that, there’s a familiar graphic on his shirt. you bought him that. lower down, you catch sight of his wrist. there’s a pink beaded bracelet there that spells out your name, followed by ‘s slut. you gave that to him as a joke, not expecting it to ever be worn.

wait, why are you mad again?

as you hover yourself over him, you can’t seem to remember. so you sink down—holding your skirt out of the way to let him see his cock disappear.

a breathy laugh leaves ryusei’s mouth, and then he groans, “shit, so fuckin’ tight babydoll. tryna make me cum already?”

you lean in to kiss him—hands roaming his chest as his own find their way back to your hips. he pulls upwards, and you obey the silent command—lifting yourself up and then back down, quickly finding a rhythm.

ryusei tilts his head back, leaning it against the headrest as he watches you with a hungry gaze.

but he’s not making you do all the work. he’s still using his strength to aid your movements—helping you bounce yourself along his shaft. and he’s angled perfectly—curved perfectly—giving you all pleasure and no pain, while making sure to rub against that little textured spot inside you.

“ryu, more,” you whine—back arched, nails carving crescent moons into his shoulders.

“yeah, that’s it baby,” he praises, letting his own nails dig into your waist. “pretty pussy’s feelin’ good, ain’t she?”

you respond with a moan—shifting a hand to his bicep for support and nearly cumming right then and there over how deliciously flexed they are, simply from the tight grip he has on you.

and it wouldn’t surprise him. all you’ve done is rile each other up all evening, so neither of you is expecting this to last much longer.

“gonna let me nut in you cinnamon bun?” he breathes out, gaze shifting from your hand to your eyes. “hm? gonna let me fill your sweet cunt to the brim?”

and what’s going to get you to say yes? maybe…

he runs his hands up your sides—slipping his fingers beneath your top and pushing it up. once he has your tits in his face, he sticks his tongue out—kitten licking at one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth and humming in content.

“f-fuck, yes,” you gasp, arching into him further.

and he grins—he doesn’t stop his little makeout session with your tits, but he grins, and then changes his movement. from up and down to back and forth, he begins grinding you along the length of his cock—pushing you closer and closer to release.

you think your lips might be torn to shreds soon with all the biting you’re doing. you don’t want to risk a passerby hearing this—so you’re trying, really hard not to be loud, but it’s really hard not to be loud.

“ryusei!” you squeal, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel that first pulse from your walls.

and that’s as much warning as he gets, because one pulse turns to five—and soon your cunt is fluttering around him, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth as you crumble against him.

he groans, looping an arm around your waist to keep you in place. “shit, my turn babydoll.”

with his face nuzzled in your chest, and his dick twitching with excitement, he cums—throbbing a thick load into your cunt. and it’s a lot. a few lazy thrusts from your boyfriend causes a wet squelch to ring out, and a different you might find that sound embarrassing, but tonight—it’s music to your ears, because it’s only for your ears.

and god, you feel so much better. your bad mood has evaporated into thin air, and you no longer care about tonight’s events. well, the events that happened prior to entering your car.

but you also feel like you owe him something.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, pulling back to look at him. and you don’t mean for it to happen—but your pout reappears for an encore. “do you still love me?”

he chuckles as he reaches a hand up—using it to squish your cheeks. “you’ve got my cum leaking out of your cunt, course i fuckin’ love you,” he coos.

you smile and snuggle back into him.

“yeah, you’re sexy as shit when you’re mad baby,” he hums. “we gotta do this again.”

and maybe you will.

maybe you can let other girls flirt with ryusei, so long as this is the romantic fairytale ending you get every time.

[exhaslo]

Hiii i was wondering if you could do a miguel x cinnamon bun reader who’s a chubby baker and catches Miguel’s eye sometime when he was out as spiderman and decides to wife her up. And now that they’re together since she’s always baking at home miguel comes home to the smell of cinnamon buns and her as well who’s filled with flour on her face. You can make it smutty if you want, i was just thinking that this scenario was cute 😭😩

have a good dayyy

Crying bc I wrote like half of this before Tumblr froze and deleted everything so I gotta rewrite it again.

Anyway, this is a cute idea. It would be super adorable if Miguel didn't like sweets either...so...without further ado...Time to write again

Warning: None, just fluff, light mentions of sex

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You owned a small bakery in the middle of Nueva York. It was no surprise that the smell of your bakery would attract anyone walking down the block. The aroma of your desserts would attract even the most grumpiest of people.

You were working in the kitchen, sweating as you tried to perfect your latest batch of cupcakes. You took a look around at your workers, smiling as they had fun while making your desserts. You loved your job.

"Hm, I'll take whatever you recommend. I don't really like sweets." A voice from outside said.

Your ears perked up as you heard such a phase. Your curiosity got the best of you as you poked your head out of the kitchen. You saw two men at the counter with your cashier. One was giddy with joy, ordering a bunch of sweets while the other had a stern look at his face.

Slowly, you made your way behind your cashier, avoiding the tall man's gaze. He was handsome, but also somewhat scary. Pulling one of your not so sweet desserts, you carefully placed it in a cute box and slid it towards him on the counter.

"T-This is on the house. I...I hope you like it." You whispered, glancing up at him.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone but this idiot heard me." The man said while pointing at his companion.

"Migueeeel!"

"Thank you," Miguel said with a fanged smile.

You felt your cheeks flush as you rubbed your eyes. You had to be exhausted from working because you swore you saw fangs. Returning your gaze to the handsome man, you smiled as he took a bite. His eyes widen, licking his lips,

"It's good,"

Miguel was surprised by the delightful treat you gave him. He glanced towards you, caught off guard by the cute smile you gave him. He watched as you hurried into the kitchen, shaking with excitement. Unable to stop staring, Miguel looked back down at the dessert.

"Shall I get more of those for you~" Gabriel, Miguel's brother, said with a silly grin. Miguel nudged him away,

"No. I can get these myself."

----------

Miguel was swinging around the city, patrolling for any crime. He stopped, catching whiff of something ridiculously sweet. Disgruntled, he stoop and searched for the source of the smell. His shoulders sunk, spotting your bakery.

Perhaps you were working on a new recipe? Miguel made it a habit to stop by once a week. He enjoyed your company. You were different. Miguel was willing to try anything you gave him as long as it meant seeing your smile.

Sitting against the roof of the building, Miguel just sat there and watched you. You were hard working, helping every customer and your employees. He knew the struggle of managing a business. Hell, Miguel was technally in charge of two companies, if the Spider Society counted as one.

"Haha! She probably eats all her sweets! Look at her!" A rude teenager yelled as his obnoxious friends laughed alongside him.

"P-Please leave!" You begged.

Miguel stepped in once he saw tears form. He jumped onto the sidewalk and quietly walked behind you. His presence scaring the teenagers away. You whimpered, rubbing your eyes and sniffing before turning around and yelping.

"It's okay. I just scared them away," Miguel whispered, not wanting to spook you.

"Thank you," You whispered, still shaking. Miguel wanted to comfort you, but he knew this wasn't the right time or place,

"Don't let those kids get to you."

"I-I'm used to it...A chubby girl who owns a bakery. I hear it a lot." You whispered. Miguel grinded his teeth together,

"You're beautiful."

"Haha, thanks. That cheered me up," You said with that sweet smile of yours, "Here, let me give you a treat as thanks."

You hummed happily as you held Spiderman's hand, leading him into your bakery. Your customers were surprised, but went about their business. You looked behind the counter and took out one of your newest desserts, placing it in a cute box.

"I just made this, I hope you like it."

You watched as Spiderman's mask slowly disappeared revealing his lower half of his face. Your eyes widen as you saw fangs when he took a bite. Your smile widen as you thought of your regular Miguel, whom you liked.

"It's good." He said. You just giggled,

"Thank you."

--------

Miguel was determined to wife you up. He had started to stop by your bakery three times a week, chatting and getting to know you on a deeper level. Once he found out that you were single, he did not hesitate to ask you out.

Miguel wanted you. He was determined to protect you and keep his sweet little baker by his side. You were so sweet and cute that Miguel was having a hard time restraining himself. He wanted to swing you in his arms and make you his.

By your fifth date, Miguel kissed you. He held you close to him, enjoying your flushed cheeks and shy expression. He was your first for everything and Miguel was going to savior everything about that. He was going to enjoy giving you everything.

By your twelfth date, you admitted to him that you knew he was Spiderman. Miguel was slightly embarrassed, but felt a weight off his chest since he didn't have to hide it from you anymore. With his secret known to you, Miguel was able to give you even more affection due to his powers.

The first time you guys had sex, Miguel went overboard. He joked about you being his dessert for the night and ended up filling you like one of your cupcakes. He had to apologize to you, but you weren't complaining. It was the best night of your life.

Finally, after a few months, Miguel offered to have you move in with him. You were hesitate, but after some reassuring, you agreed. You were currently in your shared house, making a new recipe while waiting for Miguel to return from work.

"Mhm~ I wonder if my customers will like this~" You cooed, trying the cookies.

"Of course they will. You're the one making them," Miguel hummed as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Miguel~ You're home!" You chirped. Miguel kissed your neck, his hands groping your tummy,

"Missed you, baby. Couldn't stop thinking about you all day,"

"M-Miguel," You glanced away, feeling flustered, "D-Do you want to try my cookies?"

"Of course, but I'll be enjoying my cookies later," He whispered, groping your breasts.

"Miguel~"

Miguel chuckled lowly, capturing your lips in a kiss before willingly tried the cookie. He scrunched his face up, still not liking sweets, but told you that they were amazing.

You chuckled towards him, letting him know that you'll make some dinner. Miguel wanted to complain, saying something about feasting on you, but you managed to convince him to shower. You couldn't help but smile, happy that you found someone who loved you just the way you are.

"Oh, (Y/N), I've been meaning to ask," Miguel started as he came out of the shower, "Did you give Spider Chef a recipe for a Spiderman burger that looks like me?"

"..."

Miguel sighed heavily, "It's a best seller." He muttered,

"Yai~ I knew it~" You cheered happily.

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched you do your cute little cheer. You were defiantly going to make it up later. Miguel did think it was time for you to have little helpers after all.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hehe, hope you enjoyed~

Part 2 (smut)

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

BUNNY BUNS

[HYBRID AU]

INTRO

Bunny on the run

Side Characters: Yoongi cat Hybrid, Hoseok/Human, Taehyung/Human.

Warnings: mentions of violence, wounds, blood, smut, nudity.

Genre: Fantasy, hybrid au, fluff, R+18.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Days alone on the streets after running away, Jungkook is so hungry he would do anything for something to eat, the sweet smell of bread fills his nostrils and as he walks on the side walk of the night streets he fallows it as if lost on a dream, almost not believing such delicious smell could even exist. He fallows the smell with his high sense of scent only to stop in front of a small coffee shop, the lights where still on a warm atmosphere he could see it from the outside, the glass door had some green leaves falling from the top where the name of the coffee shop shined in cursive letters, bunny buns.

He watches as the sign on the door changes. Someone opens the door the sound of a ring dings and a women a bit shorter than him comes out holding two black trash bags, she notice him standing there and only smiles at him walking around him to put out the trash. His heart beats faster, not knowing what to do with such reaction from a female, she who smelled like sweets and bread making him mesmerized by her long purple hair that stopped at her but. Jungkook never saw someone like her, it felt like he was in a dream and just saw an angel.

"Won't you come in bunny?" His checks burn from embarrassment, not used to having attention on him, "I don't have money miss, sorry" he murmured, she only smiles kindly looking him up and down she noticed he was a stray hybrid, from the dirty clothes to the dirt and wounds on his hands and face. His big doe almond eyes shined so bright under the lights of the coffee shop, looking almost like the night sky full of stars. He looked absolutely adorable, even though the contrast of his old clothes and dirt on him. She smiles and invites him in "it's on me then, come?" She offers him her hand and he slowly accepts it holding the tips of her finger afraid to leave dirt on her hand, fallowing her inside the small and warm coffee shop, he was so hungry he fallows without any second thought not caring to think about not having money anymore as his eyes traveled over all the pastries and sweet smell of cinnamon rolls, everything there smells so good and looked like bunnies, he wants to laugh at the coincidence.

Of course everything would look like a bunny, the place is called bunny buns.

Telling him to sit on a barstool she than walks around it, standing in front of him on the other side of the counter she begins to prepare him some bunny buns. The signature of the shop. Bunny bread with sugar over it. Making sure to give him a bunch with a cup of warm milk, it was freezing outside and she really wondered how he managed to walk outside with only a white shirt and pants.

She wondered, if he maybe had lost himself from his owner. Or maybe simply run away from it.

She owns the coffe shop and gives him everything he asks for, he apologizes many times but she only tells him it's okay. “Please, let me pay you somehow?” He says, long white ears behind his head moving slightly. She only smiles at him “you being this cute is enough for me”.

Her smile warms his heart in a way he never thought it was possible, no one has ever showed him kindness, not even a smile. Never. Even before he run away.

He continued to eat as she watched him, looking outside as rain stared pouring she asked him “do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”, he didn’t meet her eyes. Only staring at the now empty plate in front of him. Ashamed to even tell her the truth.

He was finally free.

Yet he had nowhere to go. No place to call home.

“Oh no… I’m so sorry” she says, soon warm hands are holding his face up to meet her gaze in the most gentle way. Her thumbs clean the tears he never thought would fall from his eyes, worry fills her expression over her soft features.

“I don’t have… home” he says, big doe eyes looking into her. She couldn’t just let the poor bunny hybrid alone at this cold time of the year. He looked so soft and scared. Like anything could break him apart.

“Well… my house is upstairs, do you want to stay here for the night?” She asks, surprise filling his brown eyes as quick as the red on his checks. He couldn’t even imagine what was happening, why would she help him? Why would she, when no one else did?

“ I can’t… you’re so nice but-“ he began but couldn’t end his sentence, her hands falling from his face over his hands.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind… it’s just, it will be a cold night… I’m scare you’ll be cold” she tells him, he looks at her, a stranger offering him a home to stay the night after filling his belly.

Even if she hurts him later, he just felt so grateful for her. So much he cried.

“Don’t cry bunny… you can stay, okay?” She gently cleaned his tears, walking around the counter to stand beside him. Her hands running over his back in a soft manner, slowly he began to fall into her touch. Head resting over her chest as she continued to caressed his back.

“I’ll take care of you okay?” Her other hand comes up to gently scratch his head, his long hair were soft. Her mind were filled with questions. How could someone let this poor bunny walk around in this could weather? She couldn’t believe it.

More than anything, how was she going to take care of this big bunny?

Next?

Tag list?

Notes: here is the intro, I hope you guys like it! It will be a very soft story with some fluff annnnnddd smut. Heheh luv you all 💖

[forlorn-crows]

More non-serious sex brainrot: Mountain casual fucking. Guy just needs to get off, y'know? It's been a hard day of manipulating the fabric of the earth itself and the big guy just needs to blow off some steam by blowing out someone's back. Or getting his own blown out.

Walks into the ghoul wing and propositions the first person he sees. And, of course, who wouldn't be willing to lend a hand to help a friend out?

uhhh well you see. he didnt even make it out of the greenhouse. so, as a reward for being the sweetie that he is, rain gets his back blown out

cw: theyr'e disgustingly in love. good ole' fashioned spontaneous sex. a lil bit of oral, a lil bit of dirty talk. hard and fast and needy, and thats how we like it. unexpected knotting (oopsies). and, as always, transmasc rain. cunt/clit/folds to refer to his anatomy.

Mountain sets the last of the hanging baskets back into place, sighing bodily. He rolls his neck, wincing at the little pops his spine makes. But he’s satisfied with his work—all the flowers and ferns pruned and their soil refreshed—and very glad to be done. 

The earth ghoul brushes the remainder of the soil off the workbench, finally allowing the stifled need in his core to roll up his spine and settle under his skin. He digs his claws into the wood and groans out loud. Curling in on himself when his dick starts to chub.

The door to the greenhouse squeaks open, chilly autumn air rolling in along with the scent of petrichor and sea salt. Mountain has to stop himself from whining at the fresh, intoxicating smell. 

“Hey, sunflower,” Rain says brightly, drifting in with a dancer’s grace. “Brought you some tea and snacks.” He sets a shallow bowl and mug down onto the bench, pressing himself to Mountain’s side and kissing him on the cheek. “Orange cinnamon chai,” he points to the steaming mug, resting his head on the earth ghoul’s shoulder, “and there,” he points at the bowl, “are figs, pears, and some brie drizzled with honey. ‘Cause I know that’s your favorite.”

Mountain chuffs and dips a finger into a smear of honey on the edge of the bowl. He sucks it off, looking down at Rain with lidded eyes. Admiring the way the wind ruffled up his inky curls, the slight lilac blush to his cheeks, the little smile he gives when Mountain makes a noise of approval. 

“Do I detect a hint of honeysuckle, tadpole?”

Rain feigns surprise, looking up at him coyly. “Maybe,” he lilts.

Mountain rumbles happily and leans in close. “Just as sweet as you.” He cradles the water ghoul’s face in his hand and kisses him deeply, melting their bodies together chest to chest. Groaning when Rain opens up immediately and lets him stick his honey-coated tongue inside. 

The earth ghoul lifts him effortlessly onto the top of the workbench, wrapping Rain’s legs around his waist and hugging him close, all without breaking the kiss. Rain trills happily and sinks into Mountain’s affection. He drapes his arms around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the mousy-brown strands falling from his bun. The action sends a shiver down Mountain’s spine, and he can’t help but gasp softly against the water ghoul’s mouth. His fingers tighten into the knit of Rain’s sweater. 

“Feed me some?” Mountain mumbles against his lips. 

Rain smiles. “‘Kay.” He turns his head to select a morsel, giving Mountain access to the long column of his neck. Eager lips surge forward to latch onto the sensitive skin. Mountain can feel the amused rumble that bubbles up in his throat.

“Don’t eat me, silly,” he laughs. “Here.” He holds a slice of pear between lithe fingers, dangling it in front of his nose.

“What if I want to eat you,” Mountain purrs. But he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue for it anyway. He curls it around Rain’s lithe fingers when he places the fruit in his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he licks across the pads of them. Chilled and sticky-sweet.

Rain makes a soft noise, letting Mountain lick them clean. 

“Do you like it?” Rain whispers, watching as the earth ghoul closes his mouth around the tops of his fingers before pulling away and chewing. Mountain watches Rain watch his mouth, eyes flitting around his pretty, angular face. 

He hums and licks a stray droplet of honey from his lips. “It’s delicious, darling. Thank you,” he says huskily, pulling Rain closer by the waist. Rain trills as he runs his palms across the small of his back, dipping just underneath his sweater. Mountain buries his nose in the collar of it and not-so-subtly humps his hips against the edge of the table. 

“But I think I fancy something else right now.” Mountain nuzzles under his ear. Rain’s scent spikes with arousal and he can’t hold back the desire any longer. “Wanted to bend you over this bench as soon as you walked in the door.”

Rain shudders and groans approvingly. “Yeah?”

“Say you’ll let me. Please? I’ve been aching.” Mountain licks up the side of his neck and sucks his earlobe into his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth while Rain hisses and grasps at Mountain’s hair. “Take you right here, fuck you so good.”

“Fuck yes,” Rain breathes. “Right here, please do.” 

Mountain doesn’t need any more permission than that. He growls playfully and promptly flips Rain onto his belly, bending him over the edge of the workbench and yanking his sweatpants down all in one motion. 

“Lucifer—” Rain gasps through a surprised giggle, lifting his tail over his shoulder. 

Mountain lands a smack to his right asscheek and grabs two handfuls of him, groaning at the sight of slick already seeping through his folds. He spreads his cheeks wide and sinks to his knees in the dirt, shoving his face in Rain’s cunt. 

“Satanas, Mount, oh fff,” the water ghoul moans, pounding his fist on the table. “Your fucking mouth, unholy shit.”

Mountain groans against him, shoving his tongue in as far as he can get it. Pressing his nose into that soft spot before his hole and taking in the concentrated smell of need that goes straight to his rock-hard dick. 

“Taste like absolute sin, tadpole,” Mountain mumbles against his folds, too drunk on his flavor to stray too far to say so. 

“You can stay down there as long as you want,” Rain chokes out as he seals his lips over his throbbing clit. “Suck me dry, seven hells.”

The earth ghoul just hums, suckling on it until his nose gets wet with slick and Rain’s panting above him. Digging into his round ass so hard he’s bound to leave marks. But he doesn’t take him up on the offer, pulling away after a few heated moments. 

“Wanted to make sure you were nice and wet for me,” he all but growls. “Gonna fill you up so full.”

Rain whines and peeks over his shoulder, eyes drooping in pleasure. He wiggles his hips as he watches Mountain strip his apron, arching his back to make sure he gets a perfect eyeful. 

Mountain licks his lips as he pulls himself out of his pants, not bothering to push them any further than past his balls—just enough to expose his aching length. He grips himself and teases Rain’s folds with the head of his cock, up and down until he’s coated in creamy slick. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Mountain whines. “So perfect. All afternoon, I’ve needed this. Needed you.”

Rain pushes back, popping the head of his cock right inside. Mountain has to stop himself from blowing right there, steadying himself with one hand on Rain’s hip and groaning when his balls draw up with no warning. 

“Show me how perfect. Take me,” the water ghoul begs sweetly, breathlessly. 

Mountain can’t wait any longer. He pushes all the way in, melding their hips together. Growling low as Rain squeezes around him and breathes out little yesyesyes’s, urging Mountain to snuggle into that space made just for his cock. The earth ghoul’s forehead drops between Rain’s shoulder blades as he bottoms out, keening at just how good he feels. 

Mountain tells him as much. Rumbles endless praise into the fibers of his sweater, the curls at the back of his neck. Shuddering as Rain arches back into him and digs his fingers into the wood. 

“So perfect,” Mountain mumbles again, beginning to move. The first real slide of his length against those smooth, silky inner walls makes his mind hazy with need. He doesn’t get more than one slow thrust before he’s fucking Rain in earnest, wrapping his arms around his hips and forcing him to take it deep. 

“Mine,” he growls over the lewd sound of skin slapping skin. 

“Yours,” the water ghoul cries. “Oh, fuck me, ye-e-es-ss.” 

Mountain digs into his slim hips. Holding him tight so Rain feels the tip of his cock all the way in his stomach with each thrust.

“Feel so good,” the earth ghoul grunts. Rain clenches around him and he nearly sees stars. “Lucifer, take it, take it.”

Rain just nods, gurgles out something incoherent. Words aren’t important to Mountain anymore, though, not really. He just needs the water ghoul to make pretty noises, soak his cock in slick, and take every inch of him until he can spill inside him hot and fast. Siphon the burning need out of his core so he can actually relax after working all day. 

“Mount,” Rain gasps. “So deep, unholy shit.”

“Yeah? Gonna give it to you,” he growls, snapping his hips even harder. Each time their hips meet, there’s a little resistance at the base of Mountain’s cock, spikes of pleasure running through his hips and down his thighs with each thrust. He realizes too late it’s his knot, swelling and bumping against Rain’s folds. Growing bigger by the minute until it’s impossible to ignore.

“Hmpf, Rain I—” Another shudder runs through him, white-hot and insistent. He snarls. “Please, let me—fuck—need to put it in.”

Rain drops his forehead to the worktable with an audible thunk, groaning as he presses back against his knot. “Uh huh,” he whines. 

“Tell me I can, please, darling, tell me I can.”

“Put it iiinnn, Mount—hah—gimme it, need it.”

Mountain nearly sobs with relief. “So good to me, so fucking good to me,” he babbles. “Just need a little—that’s it, seven hells, Rainy.”

The water ghoul arches as far as he can, letting Mountain fully support his hips with just his forearms. Each thrust pushes more and more of his knot in, until finally Rain’s cunt stretches around its widest point and sucks him right in. Popping in with a wet squelch and the daintiest oh Mountain’s let out yet. 

“Fuck—”

“So good, squeeze it, squeeze it—”

“—yeah—”

“—cumming, cumming, Rain oh—”Mountain spills deep inside with fangs latched in his mate’s sweater, and he swears he’ll do anything Rain wants once he’s spent.

[overtaken-stream]

What's your opinion on Katakuri being a dad ^-^, ik he doesnt pull out

Father!Katakuri headcanons

This is all my brain can come up with. It's a bit short, and I'm not satisfied with this, I feel like I could have added more, thus this has been collecting dust in my drafts. I hope you like it anon.

Warnings: End of Wano spoilers, this is meant for F!Reader.

I imagine he had children after Big Mom passed. Or a few years before she died, and of course, the marriage was arranged once Big Mom realized that she might just be left without any offspring from her third child.

And as much as I'd like to get lost in Father Katakuri, I can not ignore the warning signs this road presents.

The man doesn't see his children often enough. He always wanted to spend time with his family, but in this job, that isn't possible. Big Mom often holds his family over his head, making empty promises about him having a week off to help take care of the children, only to call him back before the sun rises on the fourth day. He had the courage to ask her for more time at the beginning, or to not disturb him during that single week where he spends time in metaphorical paradise with kids whom he loves and his partner whom he tries to shower with affection. He asked that of her once and when Big Mom does not deliver, Katakuri learns to cope with the dissatisfaction, it's a song he has heard of all his life, he knows every word and note that plays, he wants nothing more than to stop listening so that his kids don't step away from him again. It's impossible, and he comes to terms that he won't have that fatherly privilege. He feels like a stranger around the kids. No amount of comfort will be able to hide the truth.

It isn't the first time Big Mom pushed away a father from his biological children.

Although his time with his kids is short, it's always full of adorable moments, Katakuri is trying very hard to be a father even with his mother standing in his way.

I see Katakuri as a father of 3. Two girls and one boy, who is the youngest.

The man loves sweets, donuts, chocolate bars, cinnamon buns, and all, so he will be DEVASTATED if one of his kids isn't a big fan of sweets. He'll try to make them change their mind, maybe persuading them to eat a different kind of dessert, but once it becomes clear that they aren't into it, he accepts the fact with great pain, since he cannot share the simple pleasure of eating sugar with his child.

Katakuri often can't get his emotions across to others, including his siblings, but with his children, he tries, he really tries. This can be seen in spending quick yet platonically intimate moments with them alone and making small talk that he isn't a big fan of.

He also hopes that when the children grow up, there won't be any distance between them, it's basically a death sentence for him.

The moment Big Mom dies, Katakuri is finally able to keep his promise to his family and breathe with no one holding his leash.

I also think of him as a laid-back father who's strict when needed. His behavior is the result of countless years he spent mulling over his future family and what type of parent he would be. So this led to him walking on metaphorical eggshels that he imagined every time he got close to his children. Which they definitely took for granted.

Katakuri is very careful with his children because of it, I'd say that he is so scared that the kids would build a wall and be mad at him for not spending enough time with them that the man unconsciously started constructing the said wall.

[thesimulationswarm]

Double Shot, Part 2

Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!AFAB!reader x Tommy Miller Rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI Summary: A gorgeous man walks into your coffee shop and introduces himself as Tommy Miller. Then his equally gorgeous brother shows up. You can't decide which you like better... but maybe you don't have to. A/N: This will be in four parts, building up to the smut. Hopefully released daily. It's dumb filthy shit I couldn't get out of my head, okay? Then I'll be back to my ongoing serious series. Word count: 1.5k warnings/tags: Tommy has a hangover, gratuitous pastry, threesome, shameless flirting, sibling rivalry, pwp

This is Part 2 of Double Shot; here are Part 1, Part 3, and Part 4.

Tommy was moving a little slow that morning, nursing a hangover. He’d had a few too many last night down on Sixth Street, and now the sharp August sunshine felt like it wanted to melt a hole right into his skull. When he shifted into park, the jolt of the truck rolling back on its chassis sent a wave of nausea through him.

Leave it to Joel to use it to his advantage, swinging out the door of the cab and hustling into Prickly Pear Coffee & Sweets while Tommy was still unbuckling his seatbelt.

He had his brother’s number.

He knew why Joel had put on a shirt with no stains or holes for once, one that stretched nicely across the muscles of his chest. It was the same reason he himself had carefully knocked the mud off his work boots and lavished extra attention on his curls this morning.

It was that pretty little thing who owned the place.

Who’d been eating out of the palm of his hand yesterday when Joel came in and ruined it. Or tried to, at least— the girl had still seemed interested after his brother showed up. She’d still looked him over with that sassy, hungry gaze.

Only problem was, she’d looked at Joel the exact same way.

And Joel had noticed, of course.

Tommy jogged to the door of the cafe, running one last hand through his hair before he ducked inside. Joel was standing by the counter, studying the pastry case intently.

“Which one would you recommend?” He asked, resting his tanned forearm oh-so-casually on the glass top. Motherfucker. 

You’d been following Joel’s gaze, studying the baked goods, but when you heard the door open your eyes snapped up and met Tommy’s. Like you’d been waiting for him.

Tommy smiled his biggest smile. It wasn’t a put on— he felt a genuine flood of happiness seeing you look up to greet him. His eyes roamed over you. The golden sun pouring through the windows was catching on your hair and making your eyes sparkle. In place of yesterday’s oversized t-shirt, you were wearing a low-cut white tank. And fucking hell, you wore it well. Hangover forgotten, he strolled over to join his brother.

“Well I know what I’m having. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about that cinnamon roll last night. Was like I could taste it in my dreams.” You looked at him and laughed, a magical soft sound.

“One sticky pecan cinnamon roll for Tommy, coming up,” you announced, and Tommy noted with approval that you remembered his name. You moved with a practiced ease behind the counter, lifting the cinnamon bun with a pair of tongs and nestling it in a plastic clamshell. You passed it to him with a sly half-smile.

Then you looked down at the pastries again, as if deep in thought.

“I think for Joel, however, we need something a bit… darker.” Tommy watched as your eyes flicked up to Joel’s.

“I think you may just be right, darlin’,” Joel practically purred back, meeting your gaze. Fuck him.

“How about a slice of my Mexican chocolate tart?”

“Perfect.”

Tommy watched you serve Joel his pastry. When you handed it over, he saw how your small hand brushed against his larger one, almost lingering there. He felt a hot flood of jealousy rising up through his chest— but then he noticed something. Even as your hand was touching Joel’s, your eyes were on him.

They sat outside on the picnic table, eating their treats and sipping their coffee.

“God damn,” Joel breathed as he set his plastic fork down in the now-empty box. “That woman can bake.”

“I know, right?” Tommy concurred. “I think I’m in love.”

Joel shook his head. “That’s gonna be a bit of a problem, because I’m pretty sure she wants to take me for a roll in the hay.”

“You just keep tellin’ yourself that, if it makes you feel better.”

Tommy rubbed his finger along the rim of his iced coffee, feeling the cold condensation that had gathered there. He loved nothing more than giving his brother shit, but he did wonder. He wanted to believe it was him that you were into. But for every moment you seemed to be flirting with Tommy, there was another when your eyes were definitely on Joel. What the hell was that thing about him needing something a bit darker anyway?

He knew Joel was handsome, that some girls dug that rugged, older man vibe. They got wet for a guy with a mortgage and sad eyes. And he’d spent his childhood watching chicks go wild for his big brother, so it’s not like this would be the first time a girl was more interested in Joel than in him. 

But it didn’t seem that simple, either. There was something playful and mischievous about you, something more his speed. And there was undoubtedly a spark there when you locked eyes. 

“Y’know what, Joel?”

“What?”

“I think we should have a little wager. See which one of us can land a date with the coffee shop babe first.”

Joel laughed and shook his head. “Jesus, Tommy. What are you, twelve?”

A slow grin spread across Tommy’s face. “Sounds like someoneis afraid he’s going to lose.”

“You really wanna play this game, Tommy? ‘Cause you know I’ll take you down.”

“Oh I do,” Tommy said, his smile widening. This was going to be fun.

Tommy couldn’t believe his luck. Joel was distracted packing up the truck for the day, making sure all his beloved tools were accounted for. And then you came right out the door of your shop, keys in hand and bag slung over your shoulder. He walked briskly across the food truck lot as you flipped the ‘Come In, We’re OPEN’ sign to ‘Sorry, We’re CLOSED.’

“Headin’ out for the day, sugar?”

You turned slowly, and he watched the delicious roll of your body. That tank top, man alive. And now that you weren’t standing behind the counter, he could properly appreciate the tight cut-offs you’d paired it with. That denim hugging your curves like a second skin.

“Hey Tommy. Yeah, it’s closing time for me. I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow, though.” 

You stood there, hand on one hip, looking him over in that saucy way you had. Expectant. He felt his palms begin to sweat— it was now or never.

“Hey, so, I was wonderin’…” He trailed off, ducking his head and rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. Get it together, Miller, he silently admonished himself.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I thought you might be interested in goin’ out dancin’ this Saturday.” 

Your eyes were twinkling. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you had a chance—

“That’s right, me and by brother were plannin’ on hittin’ up The Broken Spoke. ‘S kind of a Miller brother tradition.” Joel slapped a hand heartily against Tommy’s back. Son of a bitch must’ve snuck up while he was distracted. “We thought you might be interested in joining.”

Your face broke into a wide smile. “That so?”

“Looks like we’ll be neighbors for a while here, while we work on this house. Be good to get to know each other,” Joel drawled. Tommy imagined how satisfying it would feel to kick his knees in with his steel-toed boots.

“I’d be happy to join you boys,” you pronounced, turning your key in the door lock with a practiced flick of your wrist. “Pick me up around 8?”

[manias-wordcount]

View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART SIX

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗮 𝘁𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲. 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗱𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁. 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁, 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗷𝗷𝗸 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 "𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱" 𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗶 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗲. 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆, 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝗹

𝗔𝘂𝗴𝘂𝘀𝘁𝘂𝘀 𝗚𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗽: 𝗨𝗶 𝗨𝗶 𝗩𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗕𝗲𝗮𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗱: 𝗠𝗼𝗺𝗼 𝗩𝗮𝗿𝘂𝗰𝗮 𝗦𝗮𝗹𝘁: 𝗬𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝗠𝗶𝗸𝗲 ���𝗲𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗲: 𝗝𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗲𝗶

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲…

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

For the next week, the sun rises and sets as if things were normal. But you, your co-workers, your family, and pretty much everyone in this town know that it is anything but. 

  “ Hmm ,” You let out a thoughtful noise that does very little except fill the silence in between you and your brother. "Are we there yet?"

  " Nope."

  " Ugh."

  You roll your eyes with a huff, and your brother just lets out a bit of a snicker at your response. Tonight you’re walking home with Yuuta after a long, long shift. You managed to scoot out of the diner right as the sign flipped to close, but even then, you don’t think that was soon enough. You can’t remember how long you’ve been up, and you can’t exactly remember how long you’ve been on your feet too. But you know that your whole body aches and your soul feels tired and drained in a way you truly hadn’t felt since you first started working at the diner. 

  And who can blame you? 

  The diner has been busier than usual, and everyone knows it. Still, it doesn’t stop people from forming a line out the door under the guise of coming here for lunch or dinner because they were simply “in the neighborhood.” They’re all adults and elders who act like they wouldn’t be caught dead in a candy store. But too, too many of them have dared to get offended when you have to be the one to tell them that no , you can’t just sell them a Gojo Bar here- that’s just not how this all works. 

  So to no one’s surprise, more deserts are being ordered than usual. Every shift, you have seen the chefs working long and hard while someone is always on hand, shilling chocolate bars. Your boss had the genius idea of adding more dessert items that use Gojo Candy Products in them too. So now everything is chocolate puddings and chocolate cakes and Sundaes Supremes with Gojo Chocolate Chunks. You’ve even heard from your co-workers that it’s becoming rarer and rarer that they have someone coming in and asking for a cinnamon bun or a muffin or even a slice of Zenin Diner’s once-famous banana bread. 

  Everything is Gojo Candy this, Gojo Candy that. And honestly, you too, are a part of that craze. Just a little bit, at least. You rarely get a chance to enjoy things this sweet. But candy doesn’t fill your stomach. Candy doesn’t pay your bills. But it does make you so, so happy and so, so jealous of everyone who is able to buy and eat it freely. It makes you want to be someone else. Someone who didn’t have to share such a small room with her little brother. Someone who wasn’t in shoes that were far too worn down to be good for you. Someone who didn’t have to smile and nod alongside their parents as they lie to everyone and say that they’ve already eaten. When the truth is that they're starving.

  Someone who wasn’t dirt fucking poor.

But with the increase in sales comes an increase in your pay. Slightly, anyways. Your boss is at least kind enough to ensure that. But for the most part, you’ve had self-control. You keep saving your money for things that are important like materials to fix holes in the house and a couple of other groceries that aren’t just cabbage, cabbage, and cabbage. You did almost freak out when Nobara managed to sneak you a chocolate bar from the kitchen, though (and made you promise to split the winnings with her if you scored a ticket). And you are fiddling a little too much with the wrapper of another Gojo Candy Bar that’s burning a hole in your jacket pocket as you walk down an empty sidewalk on the way home. But this one isn’t for you.

  It’s for the boy in front of you. For Yuuta.

  Although he’s quiet right now, you can tell that he still has quite a bit of energy left in him. He’s smiling as he walks. Taking every step confidently as if he knows exactly where he’s going. Which at this point, you truly, truly, truly hope he does. Because he was the one to tell you that he wanted to show you something. And on most nights after a long shift, you wouldn’t entertain him. And you certainly wouldn’t let him take you on a different, much longer path to get home on most nights either. Especially nights that are as chilly and as breezy as this one. But tomorrow is his birthday. He’ll be another year older. He’ll have completed another trip around the sun. And he'll have reached another milestone that you’ve long since passed.

  But he’s still your baby brother. Your baby brother who still smiles. Your baby brother who still walks with a skip in his step. Your baby brother who seems way too comfortable walking along an empty sidewalk with way too few streetlights for your tastes- even with the lack of cars on this road. But he's the same baby brother who never complains, never cries, and never is ungrateful. Your baby brother who still holds onto hope. Even despite all the news.

  To put it simply, tickets two through four have been found in the span of a week since the kid in Germany got the first one. Time is running out. And yet, he still has hope.

  Ticket number two went to a particularly posh-looking little girl from somewhere in Great Britain. The story broke on your shift the day after the first ticket was found. Everyone crowded around the TVs in the diner again (including you) to watch a little girl dressed to the 9’s in her Sunday Best show off the shiny golden ticket in pristine lighting with a sickly sweet smile. She had a proud set of parents behind her. Equally as prim and polished and posh-looking as the little girl was. And saying all the right things for the interview. As if they knew that they were going to end up with a ticket all along.

  You remember clicking your tongue as the feeling of irritation bubbled up inside you at the sight of the little girl and her parents. Although hearing that the only reason she managed to get a ticket in the first place was because her father’s peanut shelling and sorting factory switched to candy bars to appease her was a big source of annoyance too. You remember going to school with girls like her. Although they were probably nowhere near as rich, you have no doubt in your mind her character is exactly the same as the girls you grew up with. Spoiled rotten . 

  But you didn’t say any of this out loud, even though part of you wanted to. As you grew older, you grew wiser. And you realized that behind every brat was one of the worst types of parents that can raise a kid- the ones that never say no. 

  However, you didn’t really need to say anything at all. The outrage from the other patrons watching the TV screen at the diner was loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Even Yuuta looked a bit pissed off when you told him about the second ticket winner as the two of you walked home from your shift that night. Not to mention, it was the hot topic of your household when you got home later that evening. Everyone was up in arms about her- including your kind and sweethearted Grandpa Aibara.

  And the next ticket winner? Well, that girl wasn’t much better. 

  This story broke three days later- around dinner time at your house. The third ticket winner was a girl from America. And her interview took place in a nicely decorated home filled to the brim with large, shiny trophies. All the trophies that she won.

  Including one for holding the current record for competitive gum chewing. Whatever that meant. 

But all throughout dinner, you joined your bedridden grandparents and your bone-tired parents around the TV, watching the news on the tiny screen. And all throughout her interview, the little girl talked confidently with her smiling mother standing just behind her. She answered questions matter-of-factly. And she almost had a charm about her. Almost. You could tell from the get-go that she was conceited and arrogant. She chewed gum the entire interview. Wet smacks and the slight grinding of teeth could be picked up in the microphone they had her speaking in, but it seemed like she didn’t care. Or maybe she did, but she cared about her record-breaking a bit more than a measly interview.

  Though she did say she managed to spit out the gum and keep it behind her ear long enough to switch to Gojo Bars. Just so she could win a ticket.

  And once again, it looked like everybody else could sniff out the bad manners of the newest ticket winner. After every question she answered, someone (usually Grandpa Kusakabe) always had something nasty to say about her even nastier attitude. It always earned a few loud laughs from some of your family and poorly hidden chuckles from the other half.

  But even so, watching this interview made the cabbage stew sit worse in your stomach than it usually did. Maybe it’s because you were the only one who noticed how sad Yuuta would get when he would look at the girl’s house and all her shiny trophies before turning and looking at your house’s barren walls. Maybe it’s because you knew deep down inside that if you were as accomplished as this little girl was, you’d be full of yourself too. 

  That was all three days ago. Sales for Gojo Bars were going quicker than quick after more and more winners were announced. And your little brother? Well, he was looking more and more defeated as the days went by- knowing that he’d need a whole lot more than just luck to land a ticket after hearing how the winners found theirs.

  That was until, an hour and a half before your shift ended today.

  The diner was still on the busier side, but there were enough seats open at the counter that Yuuta didn’t have to feel bad about popping a squat at the edge seat so he could do some of his homework before you walked home with him. 

  Though, for the most part, things were quiet. Enjoyable even, as you made some light chitchat with some of your regulars while the diner began to ease out of the dinner rush. But out of nowhere, you hear all too familiar jingle of the breaking news segment coming from the TV. As a natural reflex, your eyes turn towards the screen- as did everyone else in the diner.

And sure enough, there he is- winner number four.

  Although, this kid manages to stick out in a major way. Like all the winners so far, winner Junpei Yoshino (who is, so far, the only one you managed to remember by name- or maybe just the only one haven’t forgotten yet- Whoops!) is just about Yuuta’s age. But unlike the other winners, Junpei does his interview with an expression so bored, you would have thought the kid was forced to watch paint dry.

  If you could even consider what he did to be ‘doing an interview' at all!

  No, instead of smiling big and bright and talking animatedly with the newsperson sent to his house, Junpei was looking at something other than a camera. He was looking at his own TV as he did nothing but play video games during his interview.

  Behind him stood an exasperated mother- one who at least had the decency to look horrified at the monster she had created. Questions were almost always redirected towards her, save for an occasional one that Junpei was able to answer with a few short words (so long as they didn’t get in the way of whatever violent video game he was playing on the latest console).

  You remember feeling so surprised that a child could have such a dead look on his face. The bags sitting beneath his eyes were dark. And the only time he really showed emotion was to curl up his lips at his screen and snarl at something happening in his games. It was a teeny bit frightening to watch. And all you could do was thank your lucky stars that your grandpa Kusakabe was nowhere as near as unpleasant as that kid was.

  Even the people in the diner were disenchanted by the little boy's apathy. You heard some elders in booth nearby call him rude and all sorts of things while parents with young children shook their heads at the screen and muttered to themselves about how they could fix his attitude. And you swore, even Yuuta was intimidated by the scary look and disrespectful attitude of the guy. That was until Junpei was asked the question ‘ How many candy bars did you open?’

‘One,’ The little boy had said, eyes never once moving away from the screen. ‘ I hate chocolate.’

If Yuuta heard the second part of his statement, he didn’t show it. Because he was far stuck on the first part- the fact that someone had won by opening only a single Gojo Candy Bar. It reminded Yuuta that there was such a thing as a little bit of luck left in the world. Just a little bit, at least. But he doesn’t care about how much. And frankly, neither do you.

  Because you know that every birthday, even before the candy craze, Yuuta has asked for the same thing: a Gojo Candy Bar. And you know that it was after pooling together what meager money you and your parents were able to spare, they went out and bought him one. But that candy bar was at home. The one sitting in your pocket is an entirely different one.

  But it’s a chance of upping his odds. And it was worth spending your tip money on. Well worth it. Because that's just the kind of older sister you are.

  So you don’t say much of anything as your little brother leads you down this empty sidewalk with just enough street lights to lead his way. And you don’t say anything when you notice from afar that your brother just so happens to be taking you past a tall, tall fence that blocks the world’s access from a big, big, big factory just on the other side. A factory that has a nice, fancy Gojo Candy painted on the side.

  No, even then, you still don’t say anything. You just follow close behind as your brother leads the way. Still full of energy. Still full of smiles. Still full of hopes and dreams and, maybe just a little bit of luck.

  So you think about that. You think about hopes. You think about dreams. You think about your little brother. And most importantly. You try not to think about the cold. The harsh, the biting, the growing cold. 

  Because it only serves to remind you of the tights that you just didn’t have enough money to buy when all was said and done.

[sssammich]

day 22: art

for supercorptober2023

read on ao3 instead

this is a long one (~6.4k) idk what happened tbh but here we are

summary: kara buys a portrait of lena luthor in an estate sale

---

After finishing her work early, Kara made her way to Noonan’s for their afternoon cinnamon buns. While she waited for her order, she stood by the community bulletin boards to pass the time when a particular flier caught her eye. It advertised an estate sale on the outskirts of town today at 2pm. She normally never paid attention to these things, but something about the image of the mansion printed on the paper gave her pause. 

When she checked her wristwatch, she gasped when she found that it was due to start in half an hour. She quickly opened the maps on her phone and calculated how long it would take for the bus to get there and found that if she left now, she could catch the bus right down the street and make it there, even if a little late. 

Kara had no idea why she felt compelled to go, just that she was and she wanted to find out what was out there. Either way, she’d convinced herself that this was what she was going to spend her free afternoon. 

A surge of determination coursed through her and she quickly swiped the bag of pastries from the counter with her cup of coffee before rushing out, her messenger bag hurriedly slung over her shoulder. She ran to the bus stop just as it was pulling up, and she tried to mask her out-of-breathness as she tapped her card. 

She started eating one of her three cinnamon buns during the bus ride, helping to settle her nerves. Eventually, she got to the last stop and rushed towards the mansion, the biggest one on the street.

When she arrived, there were already plenty of people milling about. She took a bite out of her last bun as she perused, nudging her glasses up on her face as she tried to get out of people’s way. She wasn’t sure why she was even there, to be honest, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her and after having spent 45 minutes on the bus, she wanted to see what was happening. 

Kara finally made it inside and quietly walked through the halls, each one oozing a kind of coldness she couldn’t quite shake off. The mansion was grand, it looked very much like the people who lived there were wealthy and affluent. She saw different trinkets and items all laid out around the home itself, various people trying to pitch them to potential customers. Eventually, she made it to a large room upstairs devoid of anything save for frames of various sizes with all sorts of art. She watched over people’s shoulders as they rifled through the frames, but none of them really stood out. 

Until she came across a portrait of a family: a father and mother sitting in their respective armchairs, and a daughter and a son standing behind them. The man was a large figure, his features stern and intense. Beside him was a woman with dark blonde hair with pursed lips and a critical eye. The man behind him, who Kara guessed was the son, was a bald man with a full beard, his smirk apparent. Finally, Kara’s eyes landed on the younger brunette woman behind the sitting man, a small polite smile on her face. 

When she made a comment about the portrait, wondering aloud who they were, a gruff man came over and responded. 

The Luthors, he said. A corrupt family full of heathens and criminals. 

She took another glance at the bald man with his hand on his mother’s shoulder before looking away. 

The customer continued to rifle through the portraits until they reached the end with a simple portrait of the daughter. This was a closer image of the woman now sitting on the armchair, her hands folded on her lap as she looked straight ahead. The small, polite smile was there—very Mona Lisa, if Kara thought about it—yet there was something else about her appearance. She was wearing a forest green dress that further emphasized the light green of her eyes. Her dark, almost raven hair was down in beautiful waves, and her lips painted red. 

Simply, she was a vision, and Kara was amazed at how well the artist was able to capture the woman’s beauty. Yet there was something off about her image: a sadness, a sullenness in her expression, despite the smile. 

Kara understood. Or, as much as she could with a painting of a woman she’d never met  before. 

“Who’s she?” she asked aloud, her fingers delicately fiddling with the frame. 

“Lena Luthor. She’s the bastard daughter.” She frowned, not liking the way he was so dismissive of this woman. 

“How’d you know that?” 

The man stared at her, his gaze quickly souring. “Learn to read a newspaper, kid. Now, are you gonna buy or what?”  

Resolute in wanting to protect this woman in the portrait, Kara eventually haggled him down to a measly $50, a far cry from the $150 that he’d originally asked for. Kara had an inkling that she’d aggravated him enough that he was ready to let her and the portrait go. 

She quickly handed over the last of her bills from her pocket and hoisted the frame of the Luthor daughter out of the estate and into a taxi where it took most of the legroom of the backseat. 

When Kara hooked the frame on her wall just to the right of her t.v. console, she did so with pride and satisfaction, placing her hands on her hips in appreciation. It had been an ordeal getting the frame up the stairs, but she’d done it without tearing or messing up the frame or the painting. It wasn’t like the frame itself was terribly immense or unwieldy, but there was something about maintaining the beauty in it that Kara forced herself to be as careful as possible—fighting every atom in her body to not be her regular clumsy self. Luckily, the universe seemed to have been generous with her that day. 

“Ok, Lena Luthor. Welcome to your new home.” She laughed to herself, feeling silly for talking to herself. Her inquisitive mind typed in Luthor and found news articles of Lionel and Lillian Luthor coming into power in business and real estate and creating the Luthor empire, by any means necessary. How their son Lex was poised to inherit said empire until he was discovered to be the serial arsonist that had wreaked havoc in Metropolis, setting multiple buildings ablaze in the course of a short month, injuring dozens and killing a handful of tenants. 

There weren’t many words written about Lena in these articles, mostly mentioning that she had been residing out of the country in London when much of the crimes took place. Her eyes landed on some comments blaming Lena for not being responsible enough to stop her brother’s actions, and that was when she closed her browser down. 

She read about Lena’s ways to distance herself from her family as much as possible, staying far away from the limelight and the lavish lifestyle that the rest of her family participated in. She was doing some type of medical research or engineering of some sort, yet reports of her were rather sparse and elusive. 

She decided that was enough for her, and despite how her fingers itched to know more, Kara shut her laptop down. Strange as it may have been, she wanted to prove her faith in the woman—this stranger. She decided then and there that she’d learned all she wanted to know and that she was going to leave that woman alone and appreciate the portrait for what it was. For all Kara cared, the less she knew about this woman, the better. 

“I’ll stop looking,” she said aloud, as if a silent gesture of good will towards the portrait. “Pinky promise.” 

—

Kara found herself spending the following couple of weeks after her impulsive purchase greeting Lena throughout the day. She’d wish the portrait a good morning when she first walked into the living area and when she was on her way out the door to work. Then she’d greet the portrait when she came home and a good night when she got ready for bed. All the while, she giggled to herself as she did so—both feeling silly and endeared at the thought of connecting with the woman in the portrait. It certainly helped to make her feel a little less lonely, especially after Alex had moved out to the suburbs with her wife so they could start a family. 

Lena was the same as ever in her formal pose, a small smile on her face that Kara had quickly known and loved. The portrait became a highlight of her day, and Kara couldn’t help but smile at that. Every night, she hoped that Lena was doing well wherever she was, that she was safe and cared for and loved. That someone was making her smile the way Kara smiled at her portrait. 

Sometimes, she’d imagine how Lena in the real world was doing. What she was working on, what her job was. What she liked, what got on her nerves. What peeved her, what made her laugh so hard it gave her hiccups. If she had a lover, if she had a pet, if she thought about where these portraits were of her family. If she was happy. 

Kara hoped she was happy. 

—

“Kara, why do you have some random woman’s portrait on your wall?” 

Her back stiffened and she stopped searching for her scarf in her closet when she heard her sister’s voice. She’d completely forgotten that nobody had been to her apartment in a month, so that meant that nobody knew about Lena. Finding the red cashmere scarf, she quickly wrapped it around her neck and walked out of her bedroom with her head held high. 

“Got her at an estate sale.” 

“That doesn’t explain anything.” Alex was staring at her now, one hand on her hip as she quirked a brow expectantly. Kara only rolled her eyes and tried her best to usher her sister out of the door. 

“It does! Now come on, I thought you didn’t wanna be late to the movies.” 

With a quick glance back at the portrait, she mouthed a see you later! to the portrait before closing her door. 

—

When it was Kara’s turn to host game night with her friends a couple of weeks after Alex first saw the portrait, she’d been nervous about what her friends would say. She’d even said so as much to Lena. 

“I just don’t want them to make fun of you!” she reasoned aloud, only to be met with the same silence that she was always met with when she talked to the portrait. She shook her head and laughed ruefully to herself. “God, I’m talking to myself.”

Unsurprisingly, each one of her friends made some type of comment about the portrait that ranged from comments she expected like wow she’s hot (Nia), she’s very pretty but she looks a little sad, doesn’t she? (Kelly), is this an oil painting? (Brainy), to one she should have expected, yet didn’t, why do you have a portrait of Lena Luthor on your wall, Kara? (James). 

All eyes were on her when James asked his question, and she opened her mouth even if no sound came out. Finally, thankfully, “Uh, estate sale?” 

Their eyes all then turned to James when he pressed forward. “Do you even know who the Luthors are?” 

Like a tennis match, the rest of them turned their sights back on her. 

“Yes.” 

A volley. 

“So why would you support that family?” 

Another volley. 

“I’m not supporting her family.” 

Another. 

“Her portrait says otherwise.” 

Another. 

She clenched her jaw. She knew where he was coming from; he’d covered the news during his time in Metropolis when this was happening. He was there. Yet, she didn’t believe in his blanket judgment, especially over Lena. 

“She’s not her brother, James. She’s not the one who committed the crimes. I’m going to judge her on the merits of her character instead of sweeping her in with the rest of her family.” 

He pursed his lips, though she could tell there was a part of him that didn’t approve. 

Yet before he could try to push her, Alex clapped her hands. “Alright, we can listen to this nonsense or you guys can lose to me in Pictionary for the third time in a row.” 

The tension dissipated, mostly, and the rest of the group seemed all too eager to move on. Alex threw her a reassuring glance and Kara smiled at her sister, happy for the assist. The rest of the night went on without a fuss, and Kara couldn’t be happier. James would sometimes stare at her, his mind definitely thinking, but she pretended not to see. 

Eventually, she was alone again, cleaning up the apartment before plopping on the couch where she had a perfect view of Lena and her small smile. 

“Sorry about James,” she said. “He means well, but…it’s personal to him, I guess. But I meant what I said earlier. I wouldn’t ever judge you for what your family had done. I can only imagine what you’ve been going through all this time. I hope wherever you are, you’re taking care of yourself. And people are kind to you. I think you deserve that kindness in your life.” 

She yawned, and further sunk into the couch, pulling the small blanket over her and letting sleep take over. 

—

Over the course of the following year, Lena’s portrait became a permanent fixture on her wall. Her friends lost interest over time and Kara sighed in relief. Even James finally let the topic go. 

She continued to greet Lena in the mornings and at night. She talked to her silent companion as she recounted her days, her work, and the things that she experienced. Lena became a sounding board as Kara processed through facets of her life. It was like talking to a plant, Alex had observed once, and Kara had agreed. But Kara knew that in her heart of hearts, it wasn’t like talking to a plant at all because it felt like she was talking to Lena the person and not the portrait. She kept that thought to herself though, not sure how her sister or her friends would take it. 

In some ways, she considered Lena’s portrait as a friend. 

And, like always, she wished good health and happiness for Lena, wherever she may be. 

—

One day, on a day like any other, Kara’s life changed in a way she never would have guessed or anticipated. 

Because on that day, Kara would meet Lena Luthor. 

She was covering for a colleague to do the technology beat about Spheerical Industries.

Kara was on her way to freshen up just before the press release when she collided with a woman with black hair and green eyes and red lips.

“Oh! I’m so sorry—I can be, uh, very clumsy,” she said, grabbing hold of the woman’s arms to keep her steady.

The woman looked up just as her own hands grabbed onto Kara’s elbows. The two of them stared at each other. 

“Quite alright,” the woman said, a reassuring smile on her face. “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” she offered, her mouth dry when her mind caught up to her brain. In front of her was the woman she'd been having a one-sided conversation for over a year. This time, her hair was pulled up in a low bun and she was wearing a collared satin shirt with a pencil skirt. “Uh, Kara.”

She'd moved her hands off of the woman before offering one to shake. The woman placed her hand in Kara’s, arched her brow slightly just as her mouth slanted with a curious smile. “Lena.”

There, a confirmation of what Kara both hoped and dreaded. 

“It’s, ah, nice to meet you. Sorry about the collision.”

“No harm done. Now, are you here for the press release?”

Kara took her free hand and lifted her badge up. “Guess so.” 

“See you inside then,” Lena said. It wasn't until that moment that Kara realized that they'd still been holding hands, their handshake extending longer than either of them seemed to realize. 

“Right, yeah. Sorry about the—” she gestured in the air between them. Yet Lena only smiled, the curious smile widening to an amused one. The image of it wrapped Kara’s heart in a vice grip when she realized that her mind easily replaced the small smile in the portrait with the livelier one in person. 

She watched as Lena walked away and headed back into the main space where the press release was set. Kara took a deep breath and slowly curled her fist, savoring the remnants of warmth on all the points where their skin touched. 

Lena was every bit as Kara imagined her to be. No, actually, she was more and better! Her imagination paled in comparison to whoever this woman was who stood in front of her—who so generously gave Kara the time of day. 

She groaned to herself, turning around so she could rest her head on the wall. 

“Shoot.”

—

Kara’s desk at work was full of flowers courtesy of L.L. from Spheerical Industries a day after her article was released. She snagged the card out of the biggest bouquet just as Nia and James walked in, hiding it in her palm and quickly pocketing it. 

Nia whistled before she spoke up. “Someone’s got a secret admirer.” 

“It’s not like that.”

“Who’s it from?” James asked. 

“Uh, Spheerical Industries sent them, I think,” she offered with a scratch on her forehead. “Guess they liked my article.”

She didn't meet their eyes as she started to move the bouquets off of her desk. Nia eventually left as soon as Snapper started yelling for his reporters. James followed suit, but not until he took another sweep of her office until his gaze landed on her. She grabbed hold of her pad and pen before bypassing him at the door. 

When she went home, she brought the largest bouquet with her before giving away the rest to her colleagues and random strangers. 

She placed the vase on her counter and sank into her couch staring straight up at the portrait of Lena with her small smile. 

For the first time in all the time she had the portrait, she thought about bringing the frame down. 

—

Kara did her best to steer clear of Lena Luthor, maintaining as much professionalism as possible between them. Though it seemed that her best laid plans were simply that: plans. 

She had been standing at Noonan’s for their afternoon cinnamon buns when she spotted a familiar brunette woman standing just two people ahead of her. She quickly ducked, trying and failing to hide behind the tiny elderly woman in front of her who seemed to struggle reading the menu in her hand. 

Said elderly lady turned around and squinted at her. “Hi, dear, can you do me a favor and tell me what they have on the daily specials up on the board. I can’t quite see what’s up there.” 

“Uh…sure, okay.” She grimaced despite herself before offering the older woman a quick rundown of the specials. Kara went on to list the specials on the board and ended up ordering for her and the lady who thanked her profusely for her help. So distracted by this older woman that she had momentarily forgotten about Lena Luthor and her presence until she heard a velvety voice call for her. 

“Kara? Is that you?” 

She stilled in her spot and took a deep breath before pasting on a bright smile, as genuine as she could muster, when she turned to face Lena. 

“Lena, hi,” she greeted as she anxiously pushed her glasses up. 

“You were quite the Samaritan back there,” Lena said, motioning towards the older woman who had taken residence at the end of a long table. 

“Oh, you know,” she said with a quick dismissive wave of her hand. “I was just…trying to help.” 

Lena tilted her head, those sharp eyes studying her. So Kara ducked her head before glancing back at the counter to see if her order had been made knowing it hadn’t. 

“So, uh, my desk was overflowing with flowers,” Kara started to say, making small talk. So accustomed to talking to her Lena—a strange thought that she did not have the time to investigate at this moment—that she couldn’t help when the words came tumbling out. “Wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” 

Lena grinned, as if sharing a secret with her, and Kara couldn’t help the way her heart parachuted from her chest and into her belly, the swoop so exhilarating to watch. The portrait’s smile was beautiful and ethereal, but nothing would beat the shades of smiles and grins and joy that appeared on Lena’s face in real time. “I wouldn’t, no. But if I did, I bet it might have to do with your refreshingly even-keeled and fair assessment of our new technology.” 

“Right,” she intoned, Kara nodding along as she got swept up in Lena’s charming orbit. “But you don’t know anything about that.” 

Lena shook her head, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes and Kara knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was a goner. For what, she wasn’t even sure herself. But whatever Lena Luthor was selling, she was buying. 

The baristas eventually called for the both of them and they walked in tandem as they picked up their order. 

In retrospect, Kara knew this was the one exit strategy the universe had given her to take—her one shot of coming out of this unscathed so she could proceed with her life as she had been.

Yet, Kara threw that escape plan out of the window as soon as she opened her mouth and asked Lena, hey what are you doing right now? Wanna take a walk to the park and try out this cinnamon bun? It’s the best in the city. 

To which Lena would respond with, I suppose I can spend a little while out of the office. Do you mind if I just text my assistant? 

She shook her head and urged Lena to please, go ahead. 

And that was that. 

—

Kara went home with a spring in her step and a skip in her heart after having spent a part of her afternoon with Lena. She walked into her apartment with a wistful sigh until she was faced with the portrait on the wall. 

“Oh, Lena,” she groaned as she walked towards the living room and plopped down on the couch. “This is weird, isn’t it? I never expected to meet the real you. Did you know she’s so smart? That you’re so smart? And so charming and just so good. You’re nothing like the things people have written about you. I mean, I could already tell that, but it’s nice to see it with my own eyes.” 

She shook her head, so many confusing thoughts swirling in her mind. 

“How do I tell her that you exist?” she asked aloud, a contemplative frown painted on her features. “What if I just…don’t?” 

Kara stared at the portrait and then shook her head. “No, you’re right. She deserves to know. It’s weird. But, for now, you’re going to have to come down. Sorry.” 

With a heavier heart than she thought possible, Kara took the portrait down and gingerly placed it by the far bookshelf until she figured what to do with her. 

Then, she decided she would tell Lena once she sorted out how to do so. 

—

Unfortunately for Kara, she never figured out how to tell Lena. 

In her defense, their friendship blossomed swiftly, Kara chasing after it to catch up. It started with regular trips to Noonan’s and taking walks after. Then to visits at each other’s offices, always with snacks in tow. Then there were the takeouts for late dinners, usually at Lena’s office. 

Before Kara knew it, Lena Luthor wasn’t just a woman in a portrait she bought in an estate sale nor was she just a lead engineer in Spheerical Industries, she was Kara’s friend. 

Lena used to just be someone that Kara wished was safe and cared for and loved. But now, she had the power to be a source of all those things for Lena: safety, care, and love. 

So Kara never got around to telling Lena. She’d gotten careless, pushed her luck to its limit, stuck her head in the sand until it was much too late. 

Which meant that the truth revealed itself out of Kara’s control. 

—

She’d invited Lena to her apartment, letting her know that she had a pretty healthy library of fiction and nonfiction alike that Lena was welcome to peruse after they’d spent hours talking about ways they passed the time with books and movies. 

So Saturday morning came and Lena appeared at Kara’s doorstep with an offering of bagels of morning cinnamon buns from Noonan’s as well as two steaming cups of coffee. Best of all, she presented it with a bright smile of her own, one that Kara never got tired of. 

“Come in,” Kara said, a bright smile of her own as she pulled the door back to let the engineer in. 

“Cool place,” Lena offered as her eyes swept the space. 

“Thanks. It used to be my sister’s apartment back in the day. The power of nepotism, you know what I mean?” 

Lena snorted and cut her a look that made Kara giddy inside. 

They camped out of the coffee table as they chatted, mouths stuffed with delectable carbs. 

“Feel free to peruse the library while I go pick up some of the books I have on my nightstand, I’ll be right back.” 

Kara hummed to herself as she quickly rifled through her stack of books by her bed before piling them in her arms. 

However, as she walked back to the living room, she almost dropped them where she stood when she found Lena standing in front of the portrait. 

Lena twisted her head to face Kara, her eyes brimming with tears even as her face steeled in anger.

“I can explain! It’s not what you thi—”  She took a step forward, but Lena took a step back and Kara’s heart sank, a cinderblock tied around it. 

Lena shook her head, an errant tear escaping before she quickly wiped it. “I don’t know what cruel joke you’re playing here, but I never thought it’d come from you.” 

“Please, Lena,” she begged, attempting to take another step forward. “I can explain. It was—there was a sale a couple of years ago. Like, um, it was in the mansion on the edge of the city, and—I didn’t think I’d meet you or anything. And it just happened, but—” 

Kara was gesticulating wildly, wanting to put her words in the order she wanted them just so she could explain properly. But the panic that engulfed her at the thought of losing Lena tied her tongue, her words coming out a garbled mess. 

“If you’re some kind of Luthor fanatic—” 

“No!” she cried out. “Please, Lena. I’m not—you’re getting this all wrong!” 

Kara tried to take another step forward, but Lena stepped back again, a dance they were doing six feet apart. Lena rushed to the door without a glance back and slammed the door on her way out. 

Kara covered her face with both hands and screamed before the tears flowed past her fingers. 

—

Kara persisted for three weeks to reach Lena, but to no avail. 

Her access to Spheerical Industries was revoked and all of her messages were left on read. 

She’d sent in one last message, a final plea where I just want to explain myself. I’ll tell you everything you want to know and I’ll answer any questions. And after that, I’ll leave you alone and never bother you ever again. So whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. 

—

She hadn’t wanted to accept defeat, but even she knew that if Lena ever considered giving her the time of day, perhaps incessantly reaching out was not the best move.

“She’ll come around,” Alex offered when Kara took the trip out to her sister’s suburban home just to get away from the city. She nodded along, but she felt the hollowness in those words. “And if she doesn’t, well, she’s an idiot.” 

She smiled weakly, and rested her head on Alex’s shoulder, accepting the loving pat on her thigh. “Yeah.” 

At the end of the day, she returned back to her apartment, trudging up the stairs one step at a time. As she reached the landing, she almost lost her footing when she discovered Lena leaning against her door, a contemplative frown on her face. 

Lena stood on her feet, pushing herself from the door, and stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets. Kara wasn’t sure what to do, but she was half tempted to walk straight back down and take a cab all the way to Alex’s house and hide. 

“Hi.” 

Kara watched her carefully, afraid to make any sudden movements. She jutted her chin in greeting. “Um, hi.” 

“You weren’t answering your phone, so I thought—”

Kara pawed at her pocket and found two missed calls from Lena. 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” she said as she took a few tentative steps closer. “But what are you doing here?” 

“You said you’d explain yourself.” 

“Oh. Right. Okay, yeah. D-did you wanna come in?” 

Wordlessly, Lena nodded. Kara then rushed to her door, fumbling as she tried to open the door. It took a few tries as she used her body to shield herself from Lena watching her miss the keyhole a few times. 

They stood by the entrance, Lena hovering by the door as if ready to bolt. She’d hated that the one and only time Lena got a chance to share her space, it had caused this chasm between them. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” 

“No, that’s fine.” 

“Okay, I’ll just…I’ll just get myself some water.” 

She opened the fridge door and took a deep breath, taking a few precious seconds to herself as she attempted to center her breath, appreciating the cool air from the refrigerator to help with her nerves. She took the pitcher out and poured herself a glass of water. Lena, in the meantime, had moved from the foyer to the opposite end of the kitchen island. 

She shakily laughed to herself, awkward and uncomfortable. “I don’t—I’m not sure where to start.” 

“From the beginning?” Lena offered, her voice soft, kind. 

“Um, okay. So I got your portrait from an estate sale a couple of years ago…” As soon as she spoke the words, they continued to pour out, so she explained everything from the estate sale and finding the portrait of Lena’s family before finding Lena’s portrait. Then how she reverently placed it on her wall and began greeting it like a friend.

How it became a source of relief just after her sister had moved to the suburbs and Kara felt lonely without her sister immediately available like she’d always been. How Kara had appreciated the safety and comfort that her portrait provided, like a friend. How she never thought to meet Lena, and stopped looking at information about her, wanting to give Lena the privacy she deserved after having gone through a rabbit hole learning about the rest of her family. How their meeting at the Spheerical Industries had irrevocably changed something in Kara’s life. How she’d talked to the portrait for some guidance before putting it away and letting that suffice even knowing that it wasn’t enough. How their friendship was something that she treasured and that she was sorry for having kept this piece of information to herself and costing her one of the most important people in her life. 

“I should’ve told you from the start,” Kara said. “But how do I tell someone I just met that not only did I know who she was, but that I have a portrait of her and basically talked to her portrait doppelganger on a regular basis. That I imagined what her life was like instead of the rumors being spread in the news about her.” 

“What did you imagine for me?” 

She shrugged, slumping back on the back counter, her arms drawn around herself. “That you liked your job. Before I knew you were officially working at Spheerical Industries, I just imagined you doing odd jobs here and there. It changed every day, depending on how I felt, but that you always liked it. Then you’d come home to a lazy cat who only liked you. That you spent time with your friends on game nights that you liked to host.” 

“That sounds nice. Definitely better than the life I’d been leading before.” 

She swallowed, feeling more vulnerable and exposed with the following words than any of the things she’d revealed before. “But above all else, I just imagined that you were happy and loved. That’s all I ever wished for you.” 

Though there were still hints of uncertainty and caution in those green eyes, Kara found that Lena was no longer as standoffish as she’d been when she first came in. “Why?” 

Kara shrugged again. “Because I saw a bit of myself when I looked at you. I guess I wanted the both of us to make it, you know?” 

Lena seemed baffled by this, the tension between them shifting ever so slightly that Kara felt okay taking a deep breath as Lena seemed to mull her explanations. 

“How much did the portrait go for?” 

Surprised at the turn of their conversation, Kara momentarily blanked until, “Uh. Fifty dollars.” 

That surprised Lena, her eyes widening slightly. “You paid fifty dollars for a portrait of me?” 

“I haggled the guy down for $150. That sounds bad, sorry.” 

“I didn’t think it’d even go for any money at all,” Lena huffed. 

Silence enveloped them further, so Kara figured that their time together was coming to a close. So she took one more deep breath and pushed off the counter so she stood directly across the kitchen island from Lena. “I’m sorry I never told you. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret, but it became easier to pretend until it was too late. I promise to leave you alone if that’s what you want. You can keep the portrait, too. Whatever will make you feel most comfortable.” 

She expected many things to happen, but Kara didn’t expect Lena to slump down on the bar stool beside her. 

“That’s not—I don’t want you out of my life, Kara,” she huffed. “You’ve been the best thing to come into my life in a long time, so I freaked out when I saw that not only did you have a secret portrait of me, but that it was something that reminded me of the life I’d tried so hard to escape. Those portraits weren’t exactly fun memories.” 

“I’m sorry, Lena—” she started to say, but Lena just put her hand up to stop her.  

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve let you explain yourself. But I panicked and thought the worst of you because of the insecurities that I carry. So I’m sorry, too, for what it’s worth.” 

Emboldened by the words that she was hearing from Lena, she quickly walked around the island and took residence in the bar stool right beside Lena. 

“So are we…good?” she asked, her tone cautiously hopeful.

Lena’s face split into a toothy smile, and Kara was struck with how enamored she was with all facets of Lena’s smile and joy. 

“I always thought your smile in the portrait was nice, but I have to tell you the real thing blows it out of the water.” 

“Charmer,” Lena commented, even as she ducked her head. 

She cleared her throat. “So what now?” 

“I think it’ll take some getting used to knowing that you have that portrait of me, but I guess if there was anybody I'd trust to ever have bought it, I’m glad it was you.” 

Her brows shot up to her hairline. “Really?” 

“Yeah, really.” Lena’s features relaxed and she laughed slightly, placing a hand on Kara’s knee. “I missed you.” 

Unbidden, Kara’s eyes brimmed with the threat of tears, even as she smiled up at Lena. “God, I missed you, too. So much.” 

Lena raised her hand and used the back of her hand to wipe the single tear that managed to escape from the corner of Kara’s eye. 

“Sorry.” 

Kara shook her head and offered her best smile, her hand coming up to cover Lena’s. “Water under the bridge.” 

—

The portrait stayed facing the wall in Kara’s apartment for another year until she and Lena finally moved in together. 

She’d been given the blessing to put it up in her office, Kara’s surprise so apparent on her face that Lena could only roll her eyes. Kara showed her appreciation by showering Lena with kisses that the brunette woman was all too happy to indulge in. 

When they got engaged a year after that, Lena surprised Kara with an appointment to get their portraits done together. Kara had laughed, hearty and infectious, before she took Lena in her arms and asked her why do this if portraits were bad memories? 

Because, Lena would respond, you knew me and you loved me before you even met me because of that portrait. So what better way to celebrate? 

Kara only kissed her fiancée with glee. 

The portrait of the two of them with identical smiles hung beside the first one. Those two portraits would then be accompanied by a third one of them at their wedding. 

Kara loved all three, proudly adorned their walls with them. But every now and again, she’d go back to the portrait that started it all. She knew she would always have a soft spot for the portrait of the young woman with green eyes and red lips, a small smile on her face.

[pigeonwhumps]

Tour

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @whumpinggrounds

This is a crossover with Alex & Friends by @i-eat-worlds, who Joseph belongs to!

Aaron takes Phoenix on a tour of Hero Alliance London HQ, and they end up at the cafeteria, where things don't quite go to plan.

4.7k

CWs: immortal whumpee, hero whumpee, abuse, panic attack, ableism, low self-esteem, past starvation, denial of food, fear of punishment, expected punishment, asking to be punished, begging, conditioning, losing control of superpowers, consideration of self-punishment, guilt, flashback, traumatised whumpee, food-related trauma, traumatised caretaker, threats, insults, punch, shove, fear, intimidation

"And this is the cafeteria."

Phoenix stops dead in their tracks in the doorway, looking around.

"It's, um, it's big."

'Big' was an understatement. The place was huge, and always busy, full of noisy heroes, some laughing and joking, some sombre. Some have clearly very recently come off shift.

Unfortunately, Phoenix has been recognised as the hero who got Abbie suspended (even if they're so abused they didn't see anything wrong with her behaviour – but then, so many have swallowed her lies about accessing their medical records to look after them better, why wouldn't Phoenix). The room doesn't quiet, though some of the conversations become more stilted, and there's a few glares. A bit of intimidation tactics from those heroes who can use their powers with any subtlety.

"Come on," mutters Aaron, putting an arm around Phoenix's shoulder in an obvious show of solidarity, "let's fetch some food. You'll love the cinnamon buns."

Phoenix nods, but they're distracted, and for good reason. It's good manners, good practice, good safety, not to use your powers against people in here. It's just one of those things you don't do. If you have a problem with someone, you solve it mundanely. So for that to happen, suddenly... it's a big show of strength against Phoenix and they know it.

"Don't let them win. Don't let the others make you think you don't deserve to be here. You show them something later. If this is going to turn into a contest, you're way more powerful."

"I don't think I am," they murmur, but let Aaron steer them towards the serving counter, grabbing a couple of trays on the way.

"Hey. None of that. You'll be fine. They're fickle, trust me. Ignore them. You've got allies anyway."

Phoenix nods. They still look very small, pressed up against his side. He squeezes them tight.

Aaron's honestly relieved. He'd thought the reactions of the other heroes in disagreement might be worse than that, judging by their behaviour in the medbay lately. It's a shame they recognised them, but hey. Can't have everything.

He tries not to think about how that might be partially his fault.

Phoenix squints at the chalkboard menu. "What, um, sort of chips are they? Fries or chunky ones or... I don't mean to be fussy, sorry. I'll eat them, whatever they're like, please let me still eat." The last sentence is added hurriedly, as if that's a regular problem. And maybe it is.

"Hey. I brought you here to have something you like, it doesn't matter how fussy you are. And if you're worried about the price, don't be, it's free."

That's not completely true. There's some posh things that're just reduced. But Aaron made an agreement yesterday, so if Phoenix wants them he won't have to pay in front of them.

Phoenix nods, visibly trying to absorb that.

"Chunky, like a chip shop."

Phoenix's eyes light up at that. "Can I, can I? Please?"

"Yeah, of course. Do you want to go and order? You can have something with it, if you like."

Phoenix looks very confused, but follows Aaron over to the food counter. Aaron pushes them gently ahead of him. Just in case.

The serving lady smiles at Aaron. "Hello, you. How are you keeping? You've made another friend?"

Aaron scowls at her. She's not supposed to reveal how few friends they have.

"This is Phoenix. Phoenix, Mary. She'll probably try and fatten you up."

Phoenix waves a little, and Mary frowns at them in concern.

"Hey love. You new here? I haven't seen you around before."

Phoenix shakes their head. "No. I just, I, um, haven't been here before. Can I have, um, chips and beans please? It's okay if I can't, I just–"

"Of course you can. We've got some left, haven't we? It's not reserved or anything." She plates it up, then turns to Aaron. "Fish, chips and peas, as usual?"

"Yep." Once it's plated and on his plate, Aaron gives her a winning smile. "So... any chance of the biggest cinnamon bun you have?"

"You can't just use charm to get whatever you want, you know." But she winks and plates a massive cinnamon bun.

Phoenix's eyes are like saucers, and they only widen as the serving lady serves them an extra portion of chips and beans.

"Ketchup and other condiments are over there, love," she points out. Phoenix nods.

"Thank you, sir."

Mary watches them go with a slight frown.

"Polite kid."

"Maybe too much so," murmurs Aaron. "They're getting better though."

"Who's on their team? Bit negligent to not show them this place. And they seem off."

"The Spark, Tempest and Nightkeeper."

"Poor kid. Here, take some onion rings to share, they do need fattening up. You'd better go and help them." She nods to the condiments table, where Phoenix is standing, looking lost.

"Yeah. Cheers."

They manouvres their way over to them.

"Hey kid. What's up?"

"Am I really allowed all this too?"

"Yes, of course. And these two," he points at the onion rings and cinnamon bun, "are to share."

"But... that's, um, that's a main dish, and a side and another side and a dessert. I can't take seasonings as well, that'd be, um, greedy!"

"Is it greedy if I take some?" Phoenix shakes their head. "Then why would it be for you?"

"Abbie says that I don't need so much to eat. I don't. Do I? I'm fine."

"I... Phoenix. You nearly passed out from hunger."

"And?"

Aaron splutters a little. "And? Do you not see how that's a bad thing?"

Phoenix shrugs. "I nearly died from it once. Only one person ever saw a problem then, and he was a villain. So it's not a bad thing if I don't eat much. Why do you– I don't understand."

It takes an enormous amount of effort for Aaron to control himself. Sparks don't literally fly, but it's close.

"Your team. I assume they're the only other people you saw then. What did they say?"

Phoenix shrugs, almost overbalancing their tray. "That I was weak. And Abbie said that it wasn't serious because it, um, wouldn't kill me permanently. And then she punished me for accepting outside help. I don't, um, understand why she let me accept your help, though."

"She has to, I'm your team medic and Kai was on your team. And you did say she'd been getting worse shortly before her suspension."

The lights flicker this time as Phoenix looks so damn confused that Abbie might be hurting them.

"That can't be right. She's my mentor, she must have my best interests at heart."

Maybe at the very centre of her heart, surrounded by unbreakable stone. He doesn't say that though.

"Come on. Let's eat."

Aaron drowns their chips in salt and vinegar, while Phoenix hesitantly picks up the ketchup, looking around. When nobody stops them they squirt out a small pile.

"Thank you."

"'s no problem." Phoenix follows Aaron over to a small square table, Aaron glaring at anyone who so much as dares look at Phoenix wrong. They drag another table over to ensure there's enough space for all the food.

"It's a lot of food. Are you sure it's, um, not too much for someone like me? I don't mean to be ungrateful, I just, um, I'm not worth it, and– I'm sorry."

"Yes." Phoenix frowns. "Yes, you're worth it. Everyone is worth food, Phoenix." Phoenix has a look of confusion on their face, tears welling in their eyes. "What's wrong?"

Phoenix's eyes snap up to theirs for a second before darting away.

"It's, um, it's more than I've eaten since Kai went back to his team. That's all."

Aaron's alarmed by this. Sure, this is a big meal, but not overly. And if they're going on solo missions and healing themself they need bigger meals. They need the energy.

Abbie must worry about him finding out during their weekly check-ups now. Just how little proper food did she feed them before anyone found out?

What did he miss during that first weigh-in in five years? Did they start feeding Phoenix with Kai on the team, to make themselves look like heroes who aren't abusive? Phoenix seemed to know then that they needed to eat more, what's changed? Did they just say what they thought they wanted to hear?

How much of that has there been?

"You know it's not normal to eat so little so regularly, right? If it was by choice we'd call it an eating disorder."

Phoenix frowns. "Abbie's teaching me how to survive. It's, um, part of my training. I have to learn because I, um, I'm a bit pathetic and keep being captured. I'm her apprentice, she, um, she knows what she's doing."

Oh, Aaron bets she does. Keep Phoenix weak, reliant on her, with low self-esteem and terrified of their own shadow some days.

Except they're not weak. Not by a long shot. And sparks do crackle from the end of his fingers this time.

Phoenix shoots back from the table, chair hitting the wall, eyes wide.

"No, what are you– please, don't hurt me, don't punish me, I didn't mean to! I understand that I deserve punishment but please, please, let me eat first before locking me away! Please, sir, I'm, um, I'm begging you!"

Aaron holds up his hands and, with great effort, wills the sparks away. Phoenix's sleeves are rolled up and their forearms are changing colour seemingly at random, parts of their face growing fake scales and illusory feathers and all sorts that keep appearing and disappearing. They're terrified and Aaron needs to deal with this before they end up almost invisible again. That would certainly get back to their team.

"Hey. Easy, Phoenix, where do you think you are?"

"In, um, in the flat, I know that, sir. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't show my powers like this, please don't hurt me, please, um, I know I deserve punishment but please."

Aaron glances around quickly. Luckily no-one seems to have noticed or cared. They lower their voice anyway.

"You're not in the flat. You're in the cafeteria. And you're certainly not in any kind of trouble. In fact, I don't even know what you've done that you think warrants whatever 'punishment' you were about to get."

"But you– I– I don't– Aaron?"

"Yeah. It's me. No punishment, and no pain, I promise. Shall we eat?" They're guessing from Phoenix's pleas that Abbie sometimes denied them meals as a punishment, and Aaron's hoping being clearly offered one might help them calm down.

Phoenix nods, arms wrapped around themself. "'m sorry. I fucked it up."

"No, you didn't. Less than five minutes out of a good day? Let me give you a hug."

They nod again, and Aaron crosses to the other side of the table, pulling them in as they lean on him.

"The food won't even be cold."

"Is there, um, someone with powers in the kitchen or something?"

"Yes," says Aaron simply. He knows they're joking but it's true.

"Oh." There's silence for a minute, before they say, tentatively, "I think, um, I would've liked that job. If I had the right sort of powers. I can't save the world that way, but still. It would be fun. And I could, um, make food for people who've been rescued. It'd be a waste of my immortality but I wouldn't be immortal in this scenario. What, um, what other jobs are there here that aren't on the, um, front line?"

Aaron recognises it as a tentative attempt at an olive branch they mistakenly think they need, and leads them gently back to their seat. He takes a bite of his fish.

"Well, there's plenty in medical, for starters. Nursing's a big one. And liaisons. I think you'd be good at that."

"Liaison? What, um, what do they do?"

"Well, first of all, it's not like a medical liaison job on the outside, if you know what that is, so put that thought aside. They're called medical advocates, or patient liaisons. A medical advocate works with patients who are struggling, usually psychologically. Patient advocacy, helping them through trauma, explaining things in their terms, informing us of things we might need to know. Like your sensitivity to general anaesthetic and healing. Long-lasting trauma. A lot of it's in the word liaison, to be honest. And we never have enough of them."

He's trying to think of a way to ask them if they'd like to help with that while Indigo and Segun won't let them in the flat and all they can do is solo missions until Abbie returns, when they hear footsteps behind them. Aaron thinks hopes that they'll just go past, but no such luck.

"Can I sit here?"

Aaron snarls and whirls around, before noticing who it is. "Oh! Hi Joseph."

"Hello there. Still as protective as ever. Phoenix? Mind if I sit here?"

"Yes, sir. I mean, you can, sir," they murmur, going quiet. As Joseph smiles and takes the seat next to Phoenix, carefully blocking their view of one of the heroes whose gaze is boring into them, Aaron notices them curl over their meal, ever so slightly.

One of these days he is going to hack Abbie into a hundred pieces. Without knocking her unconscious first.

"Thanks." He picks up a chip and pops it in his mouth. "So, what were you discussing before I interrupted?"

"Non-frontline jobs here. For example, Phoenix, Joseph works as... what exactly do you do? You're medical, I know that much, but what specifically?"

Joseph shrugs. "Frontline Paramedic. Found out the title recently."

"Okay, maybe not the best example of a non-frontline job, but we're still better than you."

"Not true."

"Oh, come on. Your only decent output is your cinnamon buns and you know it. And we don't even need you to make them anymore, not now we have the recipe."

Phoenix snorts, taking a hurried mouthful of beans to cover it up. "Sorry, sirs."

"'s okay," shrugs Joseph. "How's your injury?"

"It's healed, sir. Completely."

"Good." Aaron can tell he's a little surprised at the speed – it was a large gash, after all, and Aaron's not sure if he knew about Phoenix's healing abilities. It's refreshing to meet someone else who actually cares about their health, especially for non-work purposes. "While I'm here, can I have your phone number? Just for the purpose of sending cat memes, I promise. Nothing nefarious."

"I'll kill him if he does," says Aaron helpfully, when Phoenix hesitates. "And you can always block him if he gets annoying. No-one would blame you."

"O-okay." Phoenix takes Joseph's phone and enters it in. Then he looks between them calculatingly. "If you, um, don't mind my asking, how long have you known each other?"

"Since med school," replies Aaron easily. "We took the same international elective on helping patients with psychological trauma." Like Phoenix. At least... well, at least all this is good practice.

Phoenix nods. Aaron thinks they were right. Phoenix would make a great liaison, especially if they were a little more confident.

"Aand now I'm stuck with you," sighs Joseph theatrically.

Phoenix giggles. Actually giggles, and Aaron wasn't expecting that. "This food is amazing," they say between bites. "It's been a long time since I had chips and, um, beans or onion rings. I don't understand though. My team always complain about my cooking. If it's so bad, why don't they, um, order me to fetch food from here instead?"

"I don't know," lies Aaron sadly. In reality, he can make a pretty good guess. He's just not sure Phoenix is ready to accept it yet. "Go on. Eat up. I want you to try part of this cinnamon bun."

Aaron is the first to finish, and he carefully cuts up the genuinely massive sharing-size dessert.

Phoenix eats slowly, but their eyes pop out of their head as the scent wafts across the table.

"Wow."

"Mary must love you."

Aaron shrugs with one shoulder, feeling a bit awkward. "I saved her son. Physically. You remember after they closed the schools? Some people... didn't do too well. Even six years after the event, when I started, he wasn't doing well."

That's the understatement of the century. Joseph flinches minutely, dropping his fork.

"That's when the medical advocacy role was created. After the abolition. But a token apology and a new role in which there aren't enough employees does not reparations make. It certainly doesn't help enough." They sigh, then turns to Joseph, whose eyes have turned glassy, and taps him on the shoulder. "Hey. Breathe. You've got a cinnamon bun to eat, remember? No blood on your hands."

"There is a lot of blood on my hands," he breathes, but takes a bite of the bun anyway. "These really are delicious. Does Mary save them for you or something?"

Aaron smiles. "Yep."

Phoenix bites their lip, looking up for a second before locking their gaze on their bun like it's the most fascinating thing they've ever seen. "You– you said– well, um, you won't let me go back to living in the cupboard and, um, you won't let me pay you back, I'm sure I could but you won't let me and I still don't understand why, and you've done so much, and... and... and I... I, um, I... never mind. Sorry. Doesn't matter, it's stupid."

"Go on, spit it out," says Aaron gently.

"I– I– I, um, I– yousaidyoudonthaveenoughpeopleandindigowonttakemebackyetandiknowidonthaveanytraumaorexperienceanditsastupidideabutmaybeicouldhelp." They flush bright red after speaking all in a rush, and as Aaron tries to process the words he's heard, Phoenix says quietly, "I told you it was a useless idea. I'm sorry. You can punish me for it if you like."

Aaron shakes his head. He's understood the words now. Did Phoenix just make a suggestion? Not just a punishment one, and not pushed, one of their own accord.

But he needs to respond, or it might be the last suggestion Phoenix ever makes.

"It's not useless. Not in the slightest. I'd love to have you work in the medbay, even if it's only for a few months. And I'd never, never punish you for making a suggestion."

"Oh." Phoenix's eyes flicker upwards, and they must see the sincerity on Aaron's face because they smile. "Really?"

"Absolutely."

"I know it's a lot to ask but, um, will you not tell Indigo or Segun? Please? I don't, um, they might give me something else to do and, um, I'd be better helping you if you, um, think I'd be good at it, even though, um, I'm not sure, and I'm not supposed to– please don't tell them, please, please, sirs."

"I won't, I promise. Joseph?"

"Never."

Phoenix doesn't look much more relaxed, but they glance at Joseph with what appears to be a fraction less fear than before. They finish up their chips and take a bite of the bun, eyes going wide.

"Thank you, sirs."

"It's absolutely no problem. Really. You like the bun then?"

Phoenix nods enthusiastically, almost forgetting about their fear in their excitement. Aaron's heart aches. Over five years without even knowing they exist.

Their left cheek starts to turn the colour of the wall behind them in their enthusiasm. They haven't noticed, and when Joseph opens his mouth to potentially mention it, Aaron catches his eye and shakes their head. That would be a very, very bad idea.

He waits until Phoenix has finished before saying, "Do you want me to fetch you a leaflet on medical advocacy jobs once we've finished here? So that you know exactly what the job entails before you decide for certain whether or not to take it."

"I, um, I'm sure I do. But I'll, um, take a look at it if you, um, think it's best. Are you sure I, um, would be any good?"

"Hey. Stop putting yourself down. I love you, kid, but that has nothing to do with how good I think you'll be. I wouldn't have offered out of pity, would I?"

Phoenix shakes their head. "I'll, um, I'll take the trays up," they say thickly, gathering up the plates and clearly not about to take no for an answer. Joseph looks about to object but Aaron shakes his head.

"Let them gather themself," they murmur, once Phoenix is out of earshot, heading towards the furthest deposit point.

"I am going to murder that team of theirs."

"Just... do it cleanly? I don't want to have to heal them."

"Noted."

They watch as Phoenix deposits the trays, then just stands there for a minute. They raise a hand to their cheek quickly.

"Oh, kid," Aaron murmurs. Then they frown as one of the heroes who was glaring and intimidating the most earlier approaches Phoenix with intent. "I think we might need to intervene."

The other hero – Gorgeous Warrior, Aaron thinks his pseudonym is, and that's a bit much, even for someone of his ego, the name Kevin certainly not enough for him – gets into a conversation with Phoenix, and at first Aaron thinks hopes it might not be too bad, that he might be wrong.

Then Phoenix takes a stumbling step back, and Kevin takes one forward, pressing them against the trolley.

Fortunately, it has wheels, so they're not trapped for long. Unfortunately, all the trays are on the upper levels.

Aaron sees what's about to happen before it does, but he's too late to do anything about it as the trolley topples over with an almighty crash.

The cafeteria falls deathly silent. As Aaron approaches he can hear Phoenix's whispered pleas. White smoke rises around them, and Aaron is forcibly reminded of Morticia Addams, although this isn't relaxed smoke. It's their terrified friend, hiding behind their illusion powers because they can't do anything else.

Aaron doesn't know why their powers are so prevalent today of all days, not when they must've generally been more controlled with Abbie to avoid 'punishment' and permanent damage, but that doesn't really matter. What matters is that they're terrified and the man doing it is supporting Abbie, their abuser, with a smirk on his face.

Even what she's done publicly, accessing Phoenix's encrypted medical files without their permission, is bad enough, and he's smirking.

"Please. I'll do anything, please don't."

Aaron plants himself firmly behind Phoenix, Joseph on their other side. He's a bit unsure about interfering but... right now, Phoenix needs obvious allies, not to deal with this themself. Right?

"Hey. Back off."

Kevin sneers. "What? Can't handle me on your own? Powers too weak to do anything except hide, like a fucking coward?"

Phoenix flinches. "I– I– just leave me, um, leave me alone."

"Coward. You can't expect anyone to take you seriously with that stutter. Abbie's doing her best with you, despite all your issues, and you got her suspended. You should've been grateful for her to take you despite the damage to her reputation. Should've been grateful to all of us for taking in someone so weak and keeping you alive when we didn't need to."

Aaron feels a rush of anger and the lights in the cafeteria burst, sparks flying, the only illumination now except for the setting sun. Before he can do anything direct to Kevin, though, he becomes aware of Joseph moving beside him, shoving at Kevin.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare put Phoenix down like that. And you are way out of line with those comments. What makes you think they're okay?"

"What the hell?"

Kevin looks genuinely confused, like he doesn't understand why they'd care for Phoenix, and that just makes Aaron angrier. He pulls his arm back and lunges for Kevin's face. Their fist hits the area around his eye with a crack.

"Get the hell out of here," they growl. "Before we make that look like a bloody picnic."

Kevin turns away, walking maybe (hopefully) a little faster than normal. Aaron glares until he's out of sight, then turns to Phoenix, touching them gently on the shoulder. They jump a foot in the air.

"Want to help me clear that up?"

Phoenix nods, bending down with Aaron to clear up plates (Aaron stops them touching the sharp shards). Joseph doesn't help, "keeping watch" instead, and Aaron suspects that he, too, saw the terror in Phoenix's eyes when they looked at him.

"You're not a coward, Phoenix. And you're not weak. I, personally, think your powers are amazing."

"But, but, um, they're not useful. Not like yours. Sorry, I, um, I can't stop that. Stutter. Tried."

"You don't need to stop it. I like you. All of you. Hmm? Don't apologise for yourself. There's someone I need to introduce you to when we get a chance."

Phoenix continues gathering trays, not looking at Aaron. After a minute they whisper, "Abbie used to use him for, um, for medical procedures. Because I, um, couldn't go to medbay."

Aaron's jaw tightens. He knows exactly what Phoenix is hinting at, even if they can't say it. But the fog is slowly dropping, even if their camouflage is nowhere close to it, and he pulls them into a careful hug.

"Shall we get out of here, kid? All the people, and the lights and the noise... it's too much for you, isn't it? I should've seen that, I'm sorry."

"'s okay. But, please, if you, um, don't mind."

"Of course. You okay with Joseph coming?" Phoenix nods, and Aaron helps them to stand on wobbly legs. "We're going somewhere more private. Do you want to come with us?"

Joseph glances at Phoenix quickly before nodding. "Sure. Where are we heading?"

"My room. If you're okay with that, Phoenix?" Phoenix nods, clinging on to Aaron tightly. They're really not hiding their fear of Joseph but Aaron doesn't know what else to do. He can't deal with this alone.

Phoenix walks with them robotically, Aaron's arm the only reason they don't fall, and doesn't seem to even notice as Aaron steers them into their room, sitting them down on their bed.

"Abbie's going to kill me," they whisper. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't, um, I didn't mean to stand up to him, but I did and Abbie's going to, um, she'll be so angry when she finds out. Please don't tell her." They look up at Joseph, back to themself suddenly. "Please don't tell her, sir, please don't, um, don't tell anyone, except you can but please."

"I won't," says Joseph, handing them a mug of hot chocolate and wrapping their hands around it when they don't move, "I promise."

Phoenix sniffles. "I can't control my powers. I need to. I can't, um, I need to but I can't learn, please, help me."

"Phoenix..."

"Please!" they cry. "I can't... it looks, um, it looks terrible and it's useless and what's the point if I, um, I can't even control it?"

"I'm not putting the cuffs on you, and the only reason I'd ever even consider it would be if you were putting someone in imminent danger. Which you're not."

He is, though. His powers are getting seriously out of control when he's angry. And he needs to get them under control, by any means necessary.

Joseph squeezes their shoulder, sort-of threateningly. "I know what you're thinking. Don't you dare."

Phoenix buries their head in their hands. "I don't, um, want to be useless," they say, voice muffled and choked, "I want to be good."

"You are. Stop putting yourself down. I like all of you. All of you is amazing, because you are. If you like, we can start your training soon, as a medical advocate and with more advanced first aid, because I think you'll be fantastic at the former and you desperately need the latter." Phoenix nods. "Great. Just promise me one thing?"

"What? I mean, anything, sir."

"Stop promising you'll do anything for people. You have no idea what they'll ask."

[ardent-fox]

✨ Tag Game Master Post ✨

Hi, all! Catching up on these two games I was tagged in during the holidays 💖

First up, thank you to the lovely @lupeloto for creating and tagging me in this fun Tag Game! 🥰

📺 Favorite tv show? At the moment, Our Flag Means Death (shields self from tomatoes being thrown at her 😁)

🕴️ Favorite character? Oof, this is difficult. Gonna have to go with my precious baby boy, Stede

💋 Favorite relationship in the show? Blackbonnet (shocking, I know)

👯‍♂️ Fav sibling relationship in the show? No blood relations but the entire crew is chosen family, so… all of them?

🎨 Favorite art form? Music, with a heavy focus on lyrics/words

⚡️ A talent you wish you had? Being able to draw would be cool

☀️ What is one thing that can always make your day better? My toddler nephew saying the most hilarious things, he's barely 3 and already the funniest person I know

🎬 Favorite fictional character of all time? Atticus Finch (any works he appears in besides To Kill a Mockingbird do not count)

🌅 Dream place to travel to? Thailand or Ireland (either "land" would do, get it? 🧍‍♀️ ...I'll see myself out)

🎈 You’re planning a huge party, what’s the theme? The Masque of the Red Death, get fancy and spooky, bitches 🎭💀

🍕 Favorite pizza topping of all time? All kinds of cheese and extra mushrooms

🥂 You can pick ONE celebrity to have dinner with… Who? Andrew Garfield, {Marge Simpson voice} I just think he's neat

🎥 Favorite movie that you kinda know is bad but you still love? Rocky Horror Picture Show 👄

👖 How would you describe your style? The "I gained a substantial amount of weight in the past 5 years and haven't bought anything new since, so I now wear whatever I can fit into and lots of dresses and skirts cause pants are uncomfortable and shopping for them is a nightmare" style 😬

🖤 Finally, something making you smile this week? My mom's reaction to a present she really wanted, seeing her that touched was soul ascending ✨

----

Next, I got tagged by @deedala, @tanktopgallavich, @suzy-queued and @lupeloto to complete this round of Weekly Tag Wednesday, thank you my darlings! 💙

Name: Lyds

Location: Unknown location in Europe

Astrological Sign: Taurus squaaaad ♉

What's a TV show or movie you plan to re-watch this year? Hubby has never seen Giant, so I'll be rewatching it soon as well as some other classics like Some Like It Hot and Philadelphia Story, I'm sure I'll rewatch Frankie and Johnny for the umpteenth time as well. As far as shows go, I rewatch Our Flag Means Death at least once a month since it's my comfort show, and might do a Shameless rewatch since I've only seen the whole thing once (excluding all the Gallavich scenes)

What's a book or fic you will probably re-read this year? The entirety or The Menagerie by @crossmydna and Honeycomb by @metalheadmickey with artwork by @heymrspatel 💕

What is a song you will likely continue to play on repeat? I've been replaying One Of Your Girls by Troye Sivan for days and don't plan on stopping anytime soon, also still listening to Hozier's entire Unreal Unearth album whenever I'm chilling

What's a tasty treat you look forward to eating more of this year? Gonna steal Ri's answer here and say cinnamon buns, as well as my husband's homemade pizza rolls that I previously mentioned, as they're our favorite thing to eat while binge-watching

What's a time sink that you will continue to sink time into this year? Scrolling this beloved hellsite

Did you pick up any habits in 2023 that you plan to continue? Only unhealthy ones that I plan on ridding myself of in 2024 👋

What's your toxic trait? Inflexibility and freaking out when things don't turn out the way I've planned

What is a coping mechanism you will continue to indulge in this year? Staying in my burrow with my hyperfixations

Tell me something you like about how you look! My full, rosy lips against my smooth, pale skin

Give me at least three adjectives describing things you like about yourself. Honest, open-minded, creative 🌸

I'm out of the loop (which is about to change since I celebrated the last of the festivities today) and haven't been keeping up with the tags lately, but am still going to tag some peeps if you want to do either or both of these: @heymrspatel, @stocious, @too-schoolforcool, @xninetiestrendx, @krysmiss, @sleepyfacetoughguy, @michellemisfit, @whatwouldmickeydo, @vintagelacerosette, @metalheadmickey, @rereadanon, @francesrose3, @darlingian and anyone who sees this and wants to play! ✨

[dustylava]

Plump Y/n is doing the usual shopping in a regular store.

Some ramdom guy on the left, points his finger at Y/n and says to his girlfriend, with a figure like a Victoria's Secret model: "if you don't stop eating your fucking cinnamon buns, you'll be like her!"

The girl, first looks at her boyfriend with incomprehension, then looks at Y/n: "ugh, how disgusting... Okay, yes, you're right, need to stop with this. Let's go. What if fat is contagious..." Both laugh and leave.

This guy, having already moved away to a decent distance, loudly announces: "no normal man will have a boner for such squalor! Never!" Both, he and his girlfriend laugh out loud.

Y/n, who is already used to it: "oh, fuck, how original... Is there some kind of factory for stamping banal and identical insults?" Actually upset, but won't tell her husband.

Jesse, who installed all kinds of tracking and wiretapping devices in your jewelry, which he himself gave you, - well-well-well, everyone has different tastes. It happens, yes. Yes... - Already knows where this couple lives and what their dog's name is, - everything happens in life.

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Welcome to the 12 Days of Christmas countdown to Christmas Day. We've 8 days left!!

The Real Santa Stalker

Erik's child has beef with Santa Claus, so he has beef with Santa Claus.

Tags: Dadmonger, Erik x Charlie, The Kompound

N'Jada was chosen as the lead in the 1st Grade Christmas musical and Erik was the proud father helping his baby girl learn her solo, singing her through it a line at a time to help with her enunciation.

She was a stickler who liked to do things RIGHT, but sometimes.. like this evening.. her little kid brain didn't align with her overall goal.

"You better watch out! You better not cry! You better not pout, I'm telling you why!"

That was the easy part. She sang that part with her entire chest. The part she had the most trouble with was remembering the order of the verses and-

"Rudy-toot-toot and ruh-papumpum. Day head dolls like tootle'n too. Elegant po and cannycanes too, OH!"

Erik could tell she didn't know what the hell half those words were. She thought she was hittin' it, and he knew that he should've coached her a bit harder because she could take the criticism.. but those lil mistakes were too adorable to correct. He didn't have her bother with written lyrics. When she got older and looked back at the video, she'd probably be irritated, but in the meantime..

"Sing it again Jada?"

It never got old.

"Daddy, why doesn't Santa give homeless kids houses," she asked suddenly out of the blue. Erik's brow ticked as he considered what to say. He didn't bother asking where she heard it. She was a vey smart kid.

"Daddy, I hate Santa Claus," she pouted.

"Well.. Santa gives toys, baby, he doesn't buy houses."

"He could! He could give little kids houses and food instead of toys."

"Baby he runs a toy shop, he would need a real estate license and a food safety license to serve food. It's not that simple."

"But you said Santa is magic and can do anything!"

"He can!" Erik checked for his wife, Charlie, over his shoulder briefly. "He can.." She wasn't there and would be pissed if she heard what he was about to say. "I'll tell you the truth.. sweetheart," he kept his voice low as he was sitting on the floor, at her level. "You know how me and your mom told you.. Santa is real?"

N'Jada's eyes were large as saucers.

"We kinda lied.. only real he is.. is a real BITCH!" He covered her lips with his finger. "But you can't say that, or you'll be on the naughty list.. Okay?"

"I wanna beat his ass," N'Jada jumped, giving the pillow and cushion a sample of those hands." She'd been taking karate for a year. Erik grabbed her hands.

"Damn, Will Smith. What I tell you 'bout that cussin.."

"Mommy's not here," she looked back with a lowered voice.

"Okay.. If mommy hear it, I can't save you," his brows rose.

"Daddy, it's not fair. Santa's not supposed to be mean to little kids just because they don't have money or mommies and daddies."

"Santa is an asshole and I never liked him either. I'm on your side, and Santa deserves to be taught a lesson. I have an idea. No cookies and milk for him this year. That should teach him to be nicer."

"Yeah, and he should say he's sorry."

"You're absolutely right," he poked her belly. "You're so smart."

Charlie had no knowledge of Erik and N'Jada's conversation when she took her daughter with her to the mall in search of gifts for family and friends. N'Jada wanted to ride in the children's train, eat ice cream, share a cinnamon bun with her mom, and shop for toys. She also loved Claire's. Charlie loved how happy she was, dragging her by the hand to look at everything that caught her attention. Then suddenly N'Jada stopped. She stared straight ahead at Santa and his elves and the line of children waiting to talk to him.

"You wanna see Santa?"

Charlie walked N'Jada over and stood with her in line. She didn't seem as excited as last year, but Charlie didn't ask why. She merely kept an eye on her daughter until it was her turn to see Santa and sit beside him. Then she started taking pictures on her phone. N'Jada's curls were freshly defined and put in one high puff. She was dressed in the cutest red plaid jacket, white turtleneck, black skirt, white tights, and black boots. She even had on a sparkly lip gloss that Charlie bought her, so she'd stop playing in mommy's make-up. That was another story.

"Hohoho! And what's your name?" Santa hugged N'Jada and she looked up, torn.

"Santa, why don't you go to poor kids' houses?" she huffed. "NaeNae said she asked for a place to live and you didn't do it, why?"

Santa was wordless, unsure of what to say to this little kid, and Charlie couldn't hear the conversation to intervene.

"Oh, I'm sure NaeNae will.. get a.. place to stay.." He looked clueless about what else to do or say. "That's not for a little one like you to worry about."

"NaeNae is my friend. If you're mean to her, then I don't like you!"

Charlie watched in shock as N'Jada punched Santa in the face, the elves entervening as he kicked him in the knee. Charlie dragged N'Jada away immediately, only stopping once they were four stores away.

"Why would you do that!" Her grip on the small plaid coat was tight, and she was on N'Jada's level ready to shake her lil ass up. "Why?"

"Cuz Santa's a bitch," she whined. Charlie had to calm herself before she reacted. "Santa's supposed to care about all the little kids and he's mean to NaeNae!"

NaeNae was a little girl in N'Jada's class who N'Jada spoke about all the time. NaeNae this, NaeNae that.. Charlie didn't know the full story, but from what she understood, NaeNae and her mom’s living situation was rocky.

"NaeNae wrote a letter to Santa last year for a house for her mom, and Santa didn't do anything."

Charlie understood and nodded. "Sageypoo, Santa isn't in the business of houses.. he only makes toys."

"But you and daddy said he can do anything."

"Within reason.."

This wasn't going well, and Charlie could feel N'Jada's frustration. She didn't understand why Santa wouldn't just do it. A lot of Charlie's clients during therapy struggled with similar questions about God. Why wouldn't he just do it? It was a lot to try and tackle. Charlie called Erik for backup and luckily Erik wasn't physically far away. He was driving and doing shopping of his own and getting his hair cut. He met Charlie and N'Jada at the entrance of the Crate & Barrell.

"Tag me in," he high-fived Charlie, picking up his child and sitting her on his shoulders. "Keep doing what you doing I'm a take this lil gangsta for a walk."

He took N'Jada around the mall and sent Charlie on some errands alone outside of the mall while he kept the child.

"You remember I told you I was on your side," Erik asked as N'Jada hugged his head. "What do you say we send Santa a message about being unfair to kids?"

"Let's find him," she said deviously.

Together, they tracked Santa through the mega-mall and even to the parking decks.

"Get down real quick. I'm a show you how to start a small fire, but you always have to be aware of your exit before you do it and the most important rule.. as it is with everything? Don't get caught."

He pulled off his jacket, and surely there was a gascan tucked away and waiting. He had planned this entire thing for N'Jada to make her feel better unbeknownst to Charlie.

"Never stop fighting for your friends, that's how you make a difference. Sometimes you have to take desperate measures to get shit done. Try it, you shake it."

N'jada poured gas over the jacket, and then her daddy finished it, having her step back as she flipped the lit match.

Santa walked by and instantly freaked out yelling, "FIRE!! FIRE!!"

Erik ran over to him and held him letting N'Jada give him the business with what she learned in karate. When Erik released him, he fell trying to get away and N'Jada rejoiced feeling like she'd gotten the ultimate revenge and her daddy was right there to help her.

They'd avoided cameras. Santa only looked drunk on CCTV and Erik's jacket was easily disposable. He didn't even like that jacket. It was from one of his in-laws and wasn't his style. He'd been itching to trash it or burn it, and this was perfect.

He gave N'Jada a high-five, and together, they walked back into the mall. She had a skip in her step. That's what a daddy was for.. to help do the things mommy wouldn't allow. This would be their little secret and inside joke.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @nobodybaby93 @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @tgigoldie @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybee @playgurlxoxo

[asena-graywolf]

Contract a Serious Disease

Kuro had come home tired that evening. It was almost midnight. He was hungry and sleepless. You were already in bed. He was looking for a snack. He wouldn't be able to sleep if he went to bed hungry. He remembered the fish he had bought from the market a few days ago. The fish had been in the fridge for a few days. At one point your fridge freezer broke, but you soon had it fixed.

Kuro took the fish out of the freezer and sniffed it to check. It had a slightly sour smell, but he thought the sour smell would go away once it was cooked.

He fried the fish and poured soy sauce over it to cover the sour taste. Sour fish was the last thing he wanted to eat, but he was really hungry. Since he had no other alternative, he had to eat the sour fish.

All this happened about 4 months ago and you didn't realize that Kuro ate the fish. You thought you threw it away.

Four months after Kuro ate the sour fish, strange symptoms began to form in his body. He had frequent stomach cramps. Some nights the pain was so severe that he had to get up and go to the toilet to vomit. He was running out of energy quickly in training. He even fainted once.

His friends knew that Kuro was always well fed, and he never fainted during training from malnutrition. They suspected something strange

Kuro didn't tell you about it but you could notice that he's been more exhausted than usual lately.

Your usual energetic boyfriend was like a wilting flower. Just like Kenma, he got tired quickly during training and was often sick after an intense workout.

You could even say that Kenma is more resilient than he is now.

As his energy was very low, he ate too much, and strangely enough, even though he ate, he could not get enough. Kuro has been your boyfriend of years and you've never seen him this hot.

Oddly enough, he ate a lot and was not full, nor could he gain weight. Since you ate everything in the house as if you were exploiting it, you were now hiding food from him.

One day your friends were coming home and you made two trays of cinnamon rolls for them.

The next day you found that the cinnamon rolls were all sold out. No one else could do this job but Kuro, but this was even more strange than what they had encountered before. One person couldn't eat that many cinnamon rolls the size of two trays.

As soon as Kuro got home, you asked him to account

“Kuro! Excuse me?"

He came to you right away

"What happened honey?"

“You ate the cinnamon rolls?

"I ate. I'm sorry, they were so delicious, I couldn't stop myself," he said, bowing his head sadly.

“Kuro, this situation is not normal at all. You wouldn't eat that much. One person can’t eat that many buns alone. You have a situation. It won't be like this. We should go to the doctor. You've been extremely tired lately, your energy is dropping very quickly, at least let's have your blood counts checked"

Kuro immediately protested and took a nap.

“Don't be silly y/n. I am fine. We don't need to go to the hospital. If I listen, it will pass. I am training very hard right now. It's from him"

Even if Kuro took a nap, you were going to get over his doubts. After that evening, it became clear that you should definitely go to the doctor.

You were asleep and Kuro was reading in the dim light. He suddenly started shouting. You woke up with a jump. You almost lost your mind

"What's going on with Kuro?"

Kuro was pointing at the corner of the door.

“God! There! There! It will kill me! It will kill me!!"

You looked where Kuro was pointing.

"Kuro, there's nothing there, darling."

“No y/n. There's a strange man over there. He's coming to kill me! Coming! Coming!!"

“Kuro, okay calm down”

You were trying to calm your boyfriend who was crazy. You slapped him for the last time he'd come to his senses. He was stunned for a moment, but then he looked around and saw that it was nothing. You took his head in your arms and rested it on your chest. You stroked his hair and kissed him on the top of his head

"Ok. There, there baby. I am here"

You loved him in your arms until he relaxed.

After that day, your efforts to persuade Kuro to go to the doctor finally paid off. Kuro was convinced to go to the doctor

You told the doctor all your complaints. First he asked you to donate blood from your boyfriend. The results would be out at noon the next day. That's why you were going to visit the hospital again at noon tomorrow.

You went to the hospital again the next day at noon.

The doctor informed you of the result.

“Y/n-san, Kuro-kun has a high level of B12 deficiency in his blood. Also, you said your boyfriend was hallucinating, right?"

“Yes, doctor.”

"Ok. You also need to have a mri scan"

"Why?" ' Kuro asked curiously.

“I don't think your discomfort is just neurological. You have to have an MRI for a definitive diagnosis. Come back tomorrow for results”

You took a line from the hospital and had an order taken. You were nervous for the results. To comfort Kuro, you tried to support him

“Y/n-chan, what do you think I have?”

You put your arms around your boyfriend's neck

“Whatever happens, whatever the outcome, I know you can get through this, baby. I'm with you. You will be well”

You hugged each other tightly. Your support gave Kuro courage

You had a guess about Kuro's illness. But you were worried that if you did, you might get scared and panic. So if your suspicions were correct, it was best for the doctor to make this diagnosis.

Finally, the day has come when you will know the final result. The doctor called you first. You suspected why he didn't call Kuro as well, but your suspicion about Kuro's illness was probably correct.

“Y/n-san, the reason I called you here… Kuro-kun is probably going to be terrified when he hears this”

“What's wrong, doctor? What is my boyfriend's illness? Please tell me"

“Unfortunately… your boyfriend has a 10-meters tapeworm in his gut”

Your fears came true. Your suspicion of the disease was correct

"God! I had guessed. Damn it…did he eat the stinky fish we bought at the fish market a few days ago? Damn I should have stopped him"

“A kind of fish tapeworm in Kuro-kun's gut. He most likely contracted the disease from a fish that was not cooked well or produced in hygienic conditions. Tapeworms are found in the form of eggs on meat, we can’t see them with the bare eye. If you eat the fish without cooking it well, they will settle in your gut. They hatch from eggs in the intestine and then become adults. Tapeworms can grow up to 25 meters. Absorption of nutrients takes place in the small intestine. They eat all the vitamins in the body and the values ​​of the foods you eat and drink. That's why your boyfriend was eating more than usual and was so exhausted during training. That was the reason for the vitamin B12 deficiency.”

“It means that everything he eats and drinks feeds the tapeworm inside! God, it can't be!

"Definitely. Also, the gut is like our second brain. Intestinal parasite infection can also cause hallucinations. If the tapeworm ovulated and the eggs were thrown into your boyfriend's brain, there's a good chance he's hallucinating."

“Yeah, that's why he was hallucinating that night. What are we going to do, doctor?"

“Tapeworms can’t clear up with medication. If it was a parasite like pinworms, we could remedy it with medicine. We have to surgically remove it.”

“Is it today?”

"Yes. Waiting any longer will hurt your boyfriend. He has already suffered enough from living this long with this parasite inside him.”

"You are right. So how are we going to tell Kuro that?"

“He has to know. If he doesn't know what his illness is, he doesn't know what to do next. Summon Kuro-kun. I should talk to him too.

You summoned Kuro. You were quite worried about his reaction after learning about his illness. That's why you were on tenterhooks

The doctor told Kuro all that he told you. Kuro shouted in panic

"WHAT! Doctor please take that thing out of me! I don't believe! Does that thing live inside of me? Am I feeding a giant worm inside of me!! I can't be! God!”

“Did you eat that stinking fish?” you asked putting your hand on his shoulder

“Actually, I wasn't going to eat, but I was starving y/n. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to sleep. I had to eat. If I had known this would happen…”

“I was already suspicious of the fish in that market. The environment was not very hygienic.”

“We're going to operate on you today, Kuro-kun. You should consider yourself lucky to have symptoms. Sometimes it doesn't show any symptoms, and people live for years with a tapeworm that is several meters long in their intestines. So much so that the consequences can even be fatal.”

“This is a terrible thing.”

“If you are ready, we will take you into surgery. Say goodbye to your girlfriend for now"

Kuro turned to you and hugged you tight

“I should have listened to you y/n-chan. What a fool I am.”

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. From today you will be free from it. I'll be with you when you wake up. I'm always by your side" you said patting his back

You kissed his neck and held his hands to encourage him

"Be brave. You can handle this. I believe you"

Kuro went into surgery without any fear thanks to your support. After an hour-long surgery, he got rid of the 10-meter tapeworm in his intestine forever.

He had learned his lesson, too. From now on, he would never eat the fish before it was cooked thoroughly, and he would give more importance to hygiene than before.

[multi-muse-transect]

Adventure Time OC Muse.

Name: Samuel "Sam" Petrikov. Age: 1,000 (physically) 16 (biologically)

Appearance: Light blue skin with white hair and wears a blue Tsar-based military uniform.

Alignment: Good

Description: Samuel Petrikov hailed from a universe where everything is the same but Betty and Simon met early and married in the process. As a boy, Sam was fascinated with ancient artifacts like his father and often read the enchiridion when his dad wasn't around but it was mainly cause of the pictures. It was until his dad brought the crown and he put it on but Simon took it away for a split second. While the crown chose Simon as the wearer, it saw his son as a potential successor should Simon pass away. Simon had his meltdown and it caused Betty to take the boy away from him then gave him to family friends. As the years went by and the Mushroom War happened, Samuel began a transformation like his father and began to adopt some of his behavior as he aged while the powers also manifested. His entire family perished to Oozers and leaving him alive as his sanity felt like it was slipping away. That is until a strange girl named Marceline, found him. The two bonded quickly as she knew his dad and traveled together though his personality began to slowly become like a younger version of his father when he put on the crown. They later encountered the human survivors and helped them fight off the vampires but during a fit of panic, Sam used an ice blast that ricocheted and froze him with the Vampire King throwing him into the water where he sank. Samuel was recovered many years later when a sea monster tried to swallow him then spat him out into the beaches of Ooo. The ice around him began to thaw and he was left in a fugue state briefly and having barely any memories while starving at the same time. Sam attacked the Candy Kingdom later and tried to eat Cinnamon Bun but was stopped by Finn and Jake then was later defeated. The boy later met his father, the Ice King, who he recognized as his son immediately due to this appearance became his right hand as it resulted in dozens of engagements against Finn and Jake. But as the years went on, Samuel began to see flashes of his former life and later began to seek out Marceline who was overjoyed to see him again but was heartbroken when he couldn't remember her as she felt like she just lost two of her family members. Sam then saw the vampire bite mark on Marceline and remembered everything resulting in the two celebrating once again as Marceline hoped she can fix Simon. When he saw his father and Marceline's performance, he realized that he wants to prove to Ooo that his dad was a good man and decided to become a hero.

Personality: Samuel is described to be like a young version of his father but less insane than him. If anything, he takes more from Betty and is considered eccentric at the same time despite coming off as crazy like him. But underneath is a kindhearted boy who shares a lot in common with Finn and a person who is willing to do good yet wants to impress his dad. Realizing that his dad will always love him no matter what, Sam decided to become a hero of Ooo.

[nellycanwrite]

Summer au game night

Angelina ropes in the most innocent of them to cheat, floating over them while they play Scrabble. The guilt eats at Diego.

"OXYPHENBUTAZONE"

"Diego. Come on. Look at me."

CRUMBLES GENTLE THING

OHOHOHOHO I LOVE HOW YOU THINK. AND ANGI WOULD MOST DEFINITELY PEER PRESSURE OUR RESIDENT CINNAMON BUN TO CHEAT GAWD KAJSDHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA

Now enjoy this little blurb on how I think the game night would go HAHAHAHA

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Summer Fun Time: Game Night Edition!

It was a battle of life and death.

Javier knew it was a childish motive; to defeat his opponents to prove his worth as the smartest triplet—possibly the smartest teen—out of all these…babbling bumbling buffoons that would probably spend their time dancing to TikTok audios and making a fool out of themselves with Instagram dares and their little Twitter drama.

But it was a hard game to win, especially with Ignacio who was his partner in this game of scrabble. 

Why was he partnered with the stupidest out of all of them? Has God already forsaken him?

Javier casted a sideways glance to Ignacio; he was staring blankly at the board before him, notably the words ORANGE and FIRE in the middle of the board on a crossed way spell. He was proud of his achievements. It was his idea to put those words there anyway as opposed to the arrangement that Javier had strategically planned for them.

He missed all the double bonus tiles. That stupid little—

“You know you can just give up now Javi.” Angelina snickered and rested her arms on top of Javier’s fluffy hair. In normal circumstances, he would have waved Angi off like a pesky mosquito by his ear, but he was too fixated with his and Ignacio’s tiles to care—how in the world were they going to win with a three Y’s, two Z’s, and a jumbled up mess of O’s and E’s?

“Shut up Angi.” Javier grumbled. Auri and Diego snickered at Javier’s troubled face. Angelina harrumphed and smacked Javier’s head before floating over Diego and Auri’s side of the board—oh how lonely are their tiles; an abundance of vowels, an N, and a P.

Angelina was suddenly struck with an idea.

A dubious idea.

“Psst, Diego,” Angelina called out while she floated. Javier and Ignacio were arguing their choices, so there was no stopping the girl from roping Diego into his whims, “I know their letters, and I know how you can win.”

“Angi, no.” Diego gave her a pointed look. Auri snuggled his face deeper into Diego’s shoulder as he idly played with the tiles into an order that they would put into the board. A triple word score on the word ZONE alone in the bottom right part of the board. It only served to put a grin on Angelina’s face.

“Mi sol, come on, listen to what she’ll say,” Auri chuckled slowly, his gaze looking satisfied at their tile arrangements. He pulled Diego closer to him and closed his eyes—as if feigning sleep, “maybe she has some advice for us to win. If anything, Javier can turn this whole game around, so we’ll need all the help that we can get.”

A loud whack made them look up at the arguing brothers. They were still arguing during their turn, but now Javier was equipped with one of his mama’s cover magazines. It was rolled up to provide more lethal damage to the fiery force that was Ignacio. Auri cringed and shrugged, “Or maybe not.”

“But that’s cheating.” Diego sweats nervously. Angelina and Auri both sported a dark smile.

“We know.”

“All you have to do is put ZONE on the next turn and lay down OX on the other side of the board. You know where this is going, right?” Angelina conspired with Auri. The bespectacled teen grinned and nodded.

“Oh you sick little bird. I’m in.”

“I don’t think—”

“Come on Diego~” Angelina calls out in a sing-song voice. She kept her voice low despite the urge to scream in victory. That’ll teach Javier a lesson for telling her to shut up, “think about it; you and Auri not washing the dishes for tomorrow, right? Think about what’s in stake.”

“My dignity.”

“Come on, amor,” Auri gave Diego’s cheek a fleeting peck just as he turned to huff, “we’ll have more time together while Javi and Nacio go and wash the dishes.”

By that time, Javier and Ignacio had somehow reached a compromise and put the word HEN on the board (much to Javier’s dismay). It was the perfect position for their plan to be set into motion. Ignacio, as if noticing the air of mischief around his sister, narrowed his eyes and blew a little flame into her direction.

“You weren’t helping them, were you?” Angelina rolled her eyes and hovered on top of the board on her back.

“Pshh, no. Even if I did, their letters are hard to assemble.” Angelina gave Auri and Diego a knowing look before rolling over and resting her face on her arms while kicking her feet merrily—she really did treat the air as if it were her bed.

Javier rolled his eyes and grumbled as he reached out to the tile pouch three extra pieces, “Come on. It’s your turn.”

Diego hesitated. The word was right there. They had enough pieces to build the scrabble gold mine word; an almost impossible feat for anyone who had played the game before could ever achieve. Angelina flew behind him and rested her hands on his head before whispering like a devil on his shoulder;

“OXYPHENBUTAZONE. You know you wanna do it, Diego. Think about it.”

Diego blinked and sweated profusely. Auri acted as if he was musing over their tiles and leaned into Diego’s ear to whisper as well, “More time for us tomorrow, mi sol. No chores, just fun.”

“Diego, come on. Look at me. You know you wanna.”

“Amooor~”

“Angi, don’t help them.”

“Sorry~”

“Hurry up, you two. We don’t have the whole night.”

Finally, Diego made a decision. 

Diego and Auri won that round of scrabble that night, and Javier acted as if his whole identity as a person was staked and nailed to the cross.

---

Auri belongs to the amazing @daliceus! Our resident cinnamon boi belongs to the one and only @lunamadrigal, and the triplets are in shared custody of @cheesy-cryptid and I!