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cotton-candy-in-a-thong · 3 years

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Why the FUCK are anons so disrespectful to slasher writers?

You know what I just discovered? That someone sent a fucking death threat to @slasherrabbitmadness. For fucking what? For taking so much time to write incredibly long and detailed fanfictions about slashers, theoretical relationships and smut with the reader? For being honest about her writing preferences and saying that she only writes for female readers? For going beyond fluff material and exploring the darker aspects of the slashers the wrote about? Whatever the fucking reason that shithead anon thought was a reasonable idea to send this woman death threats is never going to be a good fucking reason.

I'm about to go on a fucking list on what the fuck is wrong with you specifically bitch ass anons who think they're fuckin' slick.

ENTITLEMENT TO OTHERS' WORKS:

First of all, these are writers who are writing for the fandom on their own accord. They're using their own skills, on their own time, and most importantly for their own pleasure. Everyone else's validation of their work comes SECOND. NOBODY is entitled to the time and skill from any fucking artist because they're human beings too. If a writer doesn't wanna write something, they don't fucking have to.

Oh now what are you anons gonna do? You gonna fucking cry? Get the fuck over it, and tuck your crocodile tears back into your ass crack. Not every writer has the time or interest for all of your requests and that's entirely fine because you simply cannot make someone do something they literally don't have to do anyway. That's life.

If you're sitting up here and harassing writers because they literally just didn't feel like doing your dinky ass request, move the fuck on and stop mentally reverting back to your kindergarten self. Your dumb, toilet clogged brain chooses to dehumanize writers from being people into the image of animals or robots who were built for your liking, and you need to fucking stop that if you wanna get on anyone's good side.

A writer listening to your request and DOING IT is a privilege in its own right, YOU ARE ENTITLED TO NOTHING. When writers write for you, you say thank you. When they don't, leave it at that and close your mouth.

These type of anons seem to wake up and expect the world to bend over backwards, create a buffet and kiss their cheesy anus when they should really be just grateful when any writer gives them time of the day and leave it the fuck at that.

BULLYING TOWARDS DARKER FICS:

I'm talking about fics that include the list of yandere, drug use, noncon, kidnap, and abuse themes. The issue with these themes is less that writers explore these concepts when writing about slashers, but more that anons and some blogs in general feel the need to bully writers who choose to explore these areas in their works. Random anons seem to bully writers who do noncon, abuse and/or yandere fics involving slashers because they're drunk on the fluffy side of the fandom while seemingly forgetting that these are SLASHERS.

I'm going to remind everyone in this fandom that slashers are NOT good people.

Michael got boners from murdering people in the novel, and even in the movies he's incredibly perverted.

Freddy Kruger consistently flirts with his victims. He literally kissed people against their will.

Jason Voorhees kidnapped a girl and became obsessed with her because she looked like his mom in the 2009 remake.

Billy Lenz invaded a sorority home, sexually harassed them, and is heavily implied to have sexually abused both his sister and the girl found dead in the park.

Bubba Sawyer held his chainsaw to a girl's pussy and let her live because he got horny. He was still ready to have her killed when Drayton said she had to be sacrificed for grandpa (the second movie).

Bo Sinclair straps people in his sex dungeon and is heavily implied to do "things" to them against their will.

Asa Emory, the Collector, was about to grope that one girl's tiddies in the first movie. Jesse Cromeans literally sexually abuses his victims for snuff films.

Brahms Heelshire was NOT going to let Greta leave without giving him a "real kiss" during the scene of her tucking him in bed.

And that's not even all of the perverted, and dark shit slashers do. All the writers who create darker stories really want to do is express how deeply disturbed many of the slashers canonically are in their works. They're bringing attention to the fact that probably the vast majority of slashers totally fucking would hold you hostage, at the very least. But as I mentioned before, many people seem to prefer the "softer" sides of the slashers. This isn't necessarily a bad thing because some people just prefer reading the more "average" stuff while some writers just don't like to write about darker things. That is A-okay.

But when people start harassing writers who write about darker themes just because "omg that is gross, how could you???" while turning around and dreaming about fucking and kissing Jason-kill count over 200-Voorhees, it just makes me wonder as to how people even got to that mindset.

Based on what I've seen, many people who hate darker fics about slashers to the point of bullying and wishing death to the writers has to do with many things.

First is the fact that lots of people in the slasher fandom actually either never paid close attention to or even WATCHED the movies to help themselves understand WHY some writers would write them in a "certain" way. Even if you never watched Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, The Boy, or whatever and you simply don't get what some people write about the slashers, your own confusion is absolutely no reason to harass people and I cannot fucking believe I have to explain this.

"But I'm a kid! You can't write that because I'll see it!!".

Get. The fuck. Out of here.

Below is a screenshot to prove my second point:

Another is many people, again, simply being full of shit. Some blogs and users have a strong holier-than-thou attitude about writers in the slasher fandom to the point where they feel the need to go in their targets' inboxes and insult them. Despite wanting fluffy content in their feed and easily having the ability to literally not read works with evil themes, these people feel SO empowered by their own preference that they ever so just "must" dictate what the fuck other people write and draw despite the source material consistently showing that we're dealing with fictional, murderous, and mentally unstable characters.

If other writers or users in the fandom aren't interpreting the slashers to how YOU think they should be interpreted, they apparently have to be burned at the stake....(sarcasm).

I'm going to go ahead and wrap this up by wishing the comfortability and safety of ANY writer who's been harassed by randos in their inbox

Just to name a few at the top of my head:

@slasherrabbitmadness

@ebonyslasher

@msgorillagripcoochie

@panteon-doll

@the-thot-clown

@supremethunda gets an honorable mention even though she's from the Marvel fandom. This is because she talked to me about the harassment towards writers in the Marvel fandom whenever they write fics with darker themes as well, and others can attest that the harassment there is even worse.

There are other people that have been harassed by some really rude anons before, but people sending one of my friends threats just hit the nerve for me to post this.

There needs to be more anons with humbleness, patience, appreciation towards the people they're requesting from because for fuck's sakes, they're human beings too. They have jobs, hobbies, friends, family and emotions. Is it SO hard to be fucking nice? It's not, so don't be stupid to these people and remember to use respect.

That being said, Happy Monday, and remember to stay horny for slashers.

#slashers #michael myers #jason voorhees #bo sinclair #freddy krueger #bubba sawyer #brahms heelshire #billy lenz #asa emory #jesse cromeans #slasher fandom #slashers x reader #writers #writing #fanfiction #harassment #bullying #stupid anon #respect

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savethegalaxythroughshenanigans · 2 years

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Jedi and Clone Troopers as John Mulany Lines

Anakin: I’m so horny and angry all the time and I have no outlet for it.

Obi Wan: I look back on being 17 and think, “Oh my god how did I not die?”

Ahsoka: I am very small. And I have no money. So you can imagine the stress I’m under.

Bariss: In terms of instant relief, cancelling plans is like heroine.

Plo Koon: I was once on the phone with Blockbuster Video, which is a very old-fashioned sentence.

Mace Windu: You have the moral backbone of a chocolate éclair. (Is something Mace Windu would absolutely say and you cannot tell me otherwise.)

Yoda: I don’t look older, I just look worse.

Aayla: And we were like, “We know but hey.”

Rex: I don’t like robots...thinking of things.

Jesse: I always thought quicksand was going to be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be.

Hardcase: Sometimes, people would say, “What do you think you’re doing?” But that just meant “Stop”. They didn’t actually wanna know my thought process.

5s: And I said “No”. Y’know, like a liar.

Echo: When I'm walking down the street I don't think anybody goes, 'Hey look at that man', they're just like 'Woah, that tall child looks terrible'.

Kix: For those of you who don't know what it is, blackout drinking is when your brain goes to sleep, but your body gets all 'Eye of the Tiger' and soldiers on.

Tup: Late at night, on the street, women will see me as a threat. That is funny, yeah! It's kind of flattering in its own way, but at the same time, it's weird because, like, I'm still afraid of being kidnapped.

Dogma: I was just shiny and dumb and easy to trick.

Appo: I WAS OVER ON THE BENCH

Cody: THAT’S LIFE!

Waxer: Ooh, ducklings!

Boil: Just because you’re accurate doesn’t mean you’re interesting.

Wolffe: I’ll keep all of my emotions right here. And then one day, I’ll die.

Bly: Now I get to say, 'my wife' which is very exciting. It has a lot of power to it. It's fun to say 'my wife'. I'm looking forward to saying it a lot. 'Get away from my wife!' 'No one talk to my wife!' 'I didn't kill my wife!'.

Gree: You can't always see both sides of the story. Eventually, you have to pick a side and stick with it. No more equivocating. You have to commit.

Ponds: My dad general is and was very funny and had a really dry sense of humor, which, as a kid shiny, seemed un-fun. But in retrospect, it's kind of hilarious.

Fox: Do all my friends hate me or do I just need to go to sleep?

Thorn: Hey, want me to kill that guy for you?

Stone: STREET SMARTS (He weaponized Jar Jar Binks’ klutziness. Stone was a genius.)

Thire: I like when things are crazy. Something good comes out of exhaustion.

Hound: Why do people shush animals? They go, “shhh, hey, shhh”. They haven’t spoken~ (He shushes Grizzer and if he denies it he’s lying.)

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harlowhockeystick · 2 years

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fluff 13 & hurt 4 w bruce wayne pls

"you're my person" & "they're not gonna hurt you again"

contains: emotional angst, cuss words, spoiler free, gn!reader, mentions of explosion

his blood ran cold at the sight: the bank which you worked at in complete shambles, all that was left of it was debris. a cloud of dust surrounded the area making it a little difficult to see clearly.

as batman held his mean mugged expression, trying not to think about the worst case scenario. that being you, lying in a pile of rubble, dead.

"there are a few survivors, but most of the people who were here are dead. it always amazes me, how the son of a bitch can get away without blowing himself up." the detective stood next to batman on the crime scene, hands in his pockets while he looked upon the absolute mess of a scene.

"where are the survivors?" batman asked, keeping his composure but praying you were one of them. he needed you to be one of them.

"oh, they were all taken to the hospital as soon as the ambulances arrived. but," the detective reached inside his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of notebook paper from his small journal, "here are some of the victims. those that we could identify, anyway."

batman scanned over the list. marvin long, jesse smith, louis jacinto, holly tang, john doe, john doe, jane doe, john doe. he didn't see your name, and he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. "thanks." batman handed the piece of paper back to the detective, and was about to walk away before someone else came up to him.

"we think this was the riddler, again." the second detective said, looking down onto the notes. batman scoffs, looking down on the ground. he picks up a piece of rubble that has a spray painted question mark on it.

"yeah, no shit." batman pushed the smaller man to the side and walked away from the scene, tossing the piece of concrete back onto the ground. he ignored everything reporters were yelling at him, throwing all sorts of questions to try and get a statement from gotham's protector.

batman got into his decked out mobile, immediately putting it in gear and racing towards the hospital. the only thing on his mind was you. he was hoping that you wouldn't be one of the unnamed victims that was scratched onto that detectives list.

he walked into the emergency room, scanning to see if he saw someone who knew what they were doing. he was approached by yet again another detective. this time, it was a familiar one. batman had recognized this one from other cases in gotham.

"the victims are upstairs, i'm assuming that's why you're here." batman followed the detectives lead to the elevator. "as a warning some of these victims are...in pretty bad shape. two of em' are able to talk, one of them...shit, they're pretty lucky. i'll let you talk to them first."

he walked into the room and saw you lying on the bed. mumbling something to the detective. batman locked the door before turning to face you. he sighed, thanking the heavens above that you were the lucky one. "you're alive." he stated.

"of course i am, can't get rid of me that easy." he chuckles, taking the mask off and pulling the chair over to sit next to you as you laid in the hospital bed, different iv's running in and out of your arms.

"what's on your mind, bruce?" your voice was raspy, eyelids heavy as you gazed over at bruce while he sat in the vinyl chair. there were a million thoughts running through his brain, how does he know which one to pick to voice?

he shrugged his shoulders, keeping eye contact with you. bruce is trying his hardest to keep his composure. just a few minutes ago he was wondering if you were dead, and now that you're alive he doesn't know what to say.

"do you want me to tell you about it?" he shakes his head, leaning forward he takes your hand in his. he delicately places a light kiss to your hand, green eyes looking up into yours. somehow, you looked calm. he couldn't understand how, after everything that just happened, how in the world you could ever be calm.

"no, no you don't have to talk about it." he shook his head and scooted closer to you. "just...i promise that they're never gonna hurt you again. i'm gonna rip his fucking head off, and then bring it to you on a silver platter."

you chuckle, rubbing your thumb over his as he still had a grip on your hand. "i mean it, y/n. you're my person," he said in a possessive manner, "nobody fucks with my person."

bruce gave you a final kiss on the forehead, and you snuck one onto his cheek. he slipped his mask back on, returning to batman from bruce. going out into the hallway he walked past the detective and headed towards the back stairwell, on his way to fulfill his words: ripping the riddlers fucking head off.

#j's writing #bruce wayne #the batman #battinson #battinson imagine #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #battinson x reader #batman imagine #dc imagine #dcu imagine

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

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here's me jumping into the bandwagon :D

(read on ao3)

It's just after sunset when Kara finally gives in. She veers off from her patrol down to a route she knows by heart.

The moment she lands, the first thing she notices is how the sliding doors are a fraction open. It’s a small thing, nothing to even be thrilled about, yet still, her drumming heart cannot be helped.

"Knock, knock," she says, stepping inside.

Her heart turning anxious when she takes in the sight in front of her. The room is a mess; books on the floor, drawers open, Lena’s frazzled appearance. She's standing over a suitcase thrown open in the middle of the bed, a mountain of clothes on top of it.

She was told that Lena was going on a trip, that it would probably take three weeks tops.

Packing for a trip doesn’t look like this, this looks a lot like... leaving.

Going on a trip, Kara remembers that’s what her family told her too.

You and Kal are going on a trip but you don’t have to worry, we’ll be with you the rest of the way, they told her.

A trip implies there would be a home to come back to. And Kara believed it. She believed it for a total of ten seconds before her planet exploded and a shard of her home knocked her off-course.

"Need some help?" Her voice doesn’t tremble. Kara considers that a miracle, really.

"I didn't know Supergirl helped poor hapless women pack suitcases,” Lena retorts, walking over to her and kissing her cheek in greeting. It doesn't go unnoticed by Kara how clingy Lena's been since she's been back.

"Well, I wouldn’t exactly consider you poor and hapless," Kara counters.

"I may have had a slight,” Lena pinches her thumb and forefinger together, “panic over which and what to pack earlier.”

Yeah, Kara can definitely see that.

"Good thing I’m here then?”

"It's always good whenever you're around,” Lena says in such a casual way and it’s like the past year didn’t happen. As if it has always been this good. And...is this even allowed? This much affection from Lena? All the sweet words, the gentle touches, and the constant close proximity? It shouldn’t be allowed, not if it will be taken from her almost immediately after.

Unfair, is what it is.

******

“Okay, so why don’t we just move this out here yeah?” Kara voices, leaning over and hugging the lump of clothes to her chest, dumps it out from the suitcase and onto Lena’s pillows.

Lena’s fabric conditioner filling Kara’s senses entirely. For a brief moment, she considers stealing one of Lena’s shirts then and there. Something to tide her through once Lena leaves.

“Great. You’re on folding duty then,” Lena declares, “I’ll just go sort my babies, quickly. I’ll be right back.”

(Her 'babies' being the thick books lining every inch of this place.)

Lena disappears through the door. The domesticity of it all pulling at Kara’s chest.

In another world, where life ran a little differently, Kara would be packing their suitcases for a trip to Argo, or maybe one of the planets she’s always wanted Lena to see, or maybe it’d be nothing that grand. Maybe, just a trip back to Midvale. Lena would read to her on the whole drive there, her hair whipping from the winds down coastal roads.

Maybe not even a trip. Maybe in this other world, she’s assigned on folding duty, while Lena tinkers around their house. Maybe, even a dog or a cat. Maybe, something small at first, just an aquarium of fishes.

She doesn’t notice how deep into the fantasy she’s gotten till Lena speaks up from the door.

"My, my, CatCo would pay a million dollars to see this."

"Uh-"

"Supergirl found in bed, folding Lena Luthor's undies."

Kara looks down at her hand. She’s holding a lacy purple panty, she spots the matching bra laying a few inches away. She drops it lightning quick, feels her face flush.

"Oh, Rao. Lena, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to- I wasn't- It was just there and I-"

"Relax, Kara. I was just teasing,” Lena reassures her, she’s got three books tucked in her arms, she lays them down on the bed, before picking up the underwear Kara’s dropped and folding it neatly.

The contrast of the dark fabric against Lena’s pale fingers makes Kara flush an even brighter red.

Kara tries hard to exclude Lena's lacy panties in her fantasy.

She fails.

******

They give up on packing entirely two hours later. An all out pillow fight breaks out somewhere between Kara fishing out her favorite hoodie from the pile--discovering t'was not in fact missing like she thought it was--and Lena denying that she stole it.

They’ve fallen right on top of Lena’s clothes. Laying opposite each other, Lena lying upside down, her feet propped up on the pillows, toes touching the headboard, whilst Kara’s legs dangle at the end of the bed. Their heads close together.

From this angle, she can see the defined slope of Lena’s nose; stares at the way her lashes curl every time she blinks.

“So, what do you think you’ll find there?” Kara breathes out into the silence.

“I don’t really know,” Lena whispers.

“Let me rephrase then; what do you want to find?”

“I- I don’t know either.”

She tries to crane her neck to take a better look at Lena. Her eyes are closed, and it takes every ounce of self-control for Kara not to lean over and just press a kiss to Lena’s lips. It would be so, so easy. She settles for shifting just a bit closer instead, their temples touching.

It’s good enough.

“That’s okay," Kara murmurs, "not knowing is part of the adventure, right?”

She tries not to think about how she isn’t really part of this adventure. It isn’t about her, really. Kara’s decided the next three days will be about Lena. Kara will have time for breaking down once Lena leaves. The three days pales in comparison to how much Lena’s sacrificed in getting her back.

“I guess so.” she hears Lena say.

On the ceiling, Kara sees two shadows dancing with each other, tries not to look too deep into it.

And then,

“I had Jess trace down a couple of documents for me,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s an orphanage that could help me, she thinks.”

Kara’s ears perk up at that, she imagines Lena as a small child crying for her mom and then being whisked away from everything she ever knew. Kara wishes she could hold that little girl’s hand. Why did nobody hold Lena’s hand through it all? Kara wonders if somebody did, would Lena even have met her? Would she have needed somebody like Kara in her life? She likes to believe that Lena would still have met her. A reality without Lena was too painful, Kara knows all too well.

“Is that where you’re going to visit first?”

“Yeah.”

A brief silence engulfs them.

“Hey, Kara,” Lena calls out. “Do you think-”

There’s a deep exhale and a sigh.

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think my mom would want me to find her again? Do you think she’s proud of me?”

The question was so full of uncertainty and insecurity and there's nothing that Kara wants more than to just wrap around Lena and tell her how goddamn amazing she is.

“Oh, Lena," Kara whispers, "your mom would be so happy if you found her. I’d even say she’s been waiting for you. And of course, she’s proud of you!” Kara sits up at this, can’t contain all her awe for Lena.

“You’re amazing! Have you met you? Your mom would be so proud of you. I just know it, Lena.”

Lena opens her eyes, smiles shyly at her, reaches up to cup Kara’s cheek. Even though the angle is awkward, Kara feels her entire being light up at the touch.

“Thank you. You always know just what to say.”

Kara's right hand comes up to keep Lena’s hand steady, before tilting slowly to press a kiss to her palm.

She registers the up-tick in her heartbeat before letting go and laying back down again.

Kara’s beginning to understand, now. Lena doesn’t want to wonder anymore, maybe if she knew where she came from, who she could’ve been, and what kind of life she could’ve led, existing wouldn’t be as hard as it is now. Maybe Lena wanted to know that a Luthor isn’t all that she is. Even though Kara has repeated again and again that she is so much more. Lena needs to figure that out for herself, Kara guesses.

Maybe, Lena finally needs a name other than what has been ingrained in her. Maybe Lena needs to name the parts of herself she never had before.

“Maybe you came from a family of thieves,” Kara murmurs, closing her eyes too.

“Kara.” she feels Lena shift, she opens one eye to see Lena propped on her elbows leaning over her. “Are you saying you think being a hoodie thief is genetic?”

“You never know, Lena you never know,” Kara manages to say, her brain a loop of, Lena’s eyes are so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, her hair smells so nice, please kiss me, please kiss-

Kara closes her eyes again to make the chanting stop.

“You do know I'm a scientist, right?”

“Mm. Doesn’t make you any less of a hoodie thief.”

That earns her a pillow on the face.

“Personally, I think you’re some lost princess though," Kara divulges.

Lena lets out a loud incredulous laugh at that.

“What?" Lena blurts out, "You think I’m a princess?”

There’s a cheesy pick-up line there somewhere that Kara chooses to ignore.

“Well, you have the whole Snow White look down to a T, after all. Pale skin, dark hair. The whole ensemble really.”

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Lena groans, “but, I think you might be right. God, I even have the whole evil stepmother-stepbrother dynamic down. Does that make you one of my dwarfs?”

“Dwarf? Really? Lena, really?”

She’s glad to learn that Lena had picked up a thing or two from their Disney marathons. That doesn’t mean Kara appreciates being called a dwarf though. She sits up and leans back on her elbows too; their faces inches from each other now. Lena’s eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You turn into Grumpy when someone eats your ice cream.”

Kara gasps, clutches her heart as if wounded and falls down dramatically. Lena just laughs at her, lies down again before asking, “Think I’ll find Prince Charming there, then?”

“You don’t need Prince Charming.”

I’m right here.

“True,” Lena agrees. Lena doesn’t need anybody, although would it really hurt if she says that she needed Kara the way Kara needs her?

“Ireland seems like the best place to run off into the sunset though," Lena wonders aloud.

“Is that what you wanna do?” Kara asks, “Just run off into the sunset?”

Because, because, if it is, I can do something even better. I can fly you off into the sunset. All you have to do is ask. Her heart is galloping in her chest and she’s grateful that out of the two of them, she’s the only one with super hearing.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lena answers and Kara lets out a none too subtle breath of relief.

“You don’t have to search for a home, you know,” Kara whispers. She just- She just needs Lena to know this, okay?

“I know,” Lena answers. “I still need to do this though.”

Once Lena Luthor makes up her mind there’s no changing it, it’s something Kara’s come to know through the years.

“You’ll come back soon though?”

“Maybe. Honestly, Kara? I don’t really know about ‘soon’. How close is ‘soon’ anyway? Would there even be a good reason for me to come back?”

How Kara held her all screams in the moment Lena said that, she doesn’t know.

******

There are balloons and cake and confetti but it doesn’t feel anything remotely close to a party.

It feels more something along the lines of, train wreck and heartbreak and building on fire. In short, disaster.

She vaguely registers Kelly asking her to hover and hang the banner. Why would she want to hang a banner screaming “We”ll Miss You!” in glittering blue? Kara grabs the ends of it and hangs it up anyway.

We’ll Miss You doesn't even begin to cover Kara’s feelings about Lena’s departure and oncoming absence.

But then again, this isn’t about her.

The door buzzes before Kara can spiral down her blackhole again.

Andrea comes in through the door with a bottle of champagne, which she hands off to Kara along with her coat. Kara fumbles after Andrea.

This isn’t CatCo! I’m not your employee! And champagne? Really? What is there to celebrate?

Lena arrives shortly after and streamers are let out. They make in-jokes and everyone’s laughing and Alex keeps telling Lena to bring home ‘some of the good stuff’ and Brainy keeps asking if he’s allowed to tinker with Lena’s projects while she's away, and Nia’s handing Lena an old film camera, “Document everything for me? Alright?" and Kara’s trying, she really, really is.

Even though she can’t understand how all of them are happy and smiling at the thought of Lena leaving them.

She doesn’t even notice what she’s doing till she’s bracing herself for take-off out in Lena’s balcony, when a hand lands on her wrist.

“Hey.” Lena anchors her back to the ground. It’s a mistake to turn and meet Lena’s eyes.

“Stay? Please?” Lena asks.

Unfair, Kara thinks again. It’s unfair that she gets to ask that.

******

Kara stays.

She stays till the lights are off, the blankets drawn and Lena’s snoring in her arms.

She’s eyeing the suitcase at the corner of the room.

I forgive you, she thinks, I forgive you for taking my heart in the suitcase you packed.

She didn’t even know it was trapped inside till Lena’s zipping everything up and Kara couldn’t breathe.

“Please, please, don’t go,” she pleads into the dark. .

Lena shifts, mumbles incoherently and burrows deeper into Kara.

******

The runway is shimmering after the early morning drizzle, and Lena Luthor looks like someone from a magazine, standing there in her velvet coat and aviators. There’s only the two of them, and there’s a smug pride in Kara about the fact that Lena didn’t want anybody here but her.

She’s leaving today. In a few hours, they’ll be on different continents. Kara wouldn’t be able to trace her heartbeat anymore. Lena made her promise not to chase the plane. She’s still pretty bummed about that.

“You know I’m gonna call you everyday, right?” Kara mutters in her ear, arms wrapped tight around Lena.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Kara Danvers.” Lena squeezes back, before pulling away.

“G-good.”

“Well, this is my ride,” Lena tells her, gestures to the jet behind her. “This is goodbye then.”

“For now.” Kara insists.

“For now.” Lena confirms, “Goodbye, for now.”

She turns to go but Kara can’t-

“Lena, wait.”

She tugs on Lena’s hand and she comes back to her willingly. Before Kara loses the nerve, she presses into Lena’s lips. She cups her face gently, feels the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, feels the moment Lena’s brain catches up to what’s happening.

It doesn’t taste like goodbye, Kara realizes. It tastes like a promise of something more.

“What was that for?” Lena breathes out, Kara can hear their hearts hammering in sync.

“Your reason to come back home.”

[special shoutout to @mssirey who gave great writing advice to this poor hapless writer（〃｀ 3′〃）i kith u on the forehead. ]

#if u see a typo no u dont #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #here have a super self-indulgent fic before the next disaster of an ep drops #sg spoilers

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the-aggro-crag-car · 2 years

Text

The girl sitting on the bench in the lobby looked incredibly, agonizingly familiar.

But Jesse just couldn't place from where.

It was honestly driving him insane, even more so that from what he could tell, she certainly hadn't noticed or recognized him. She was just sitting there, tapping away at the laptop open in front of her.

He was only supposed to be waiting for Lake. They had an appointment here, because the only therapist they could find that they connected with and knew about the train and wasn't weird about the whole metal thing worked out of this office building. He didn't know why this girl was here, but it was also a lot busier than usual. From what he could tell, an event must've rented out some of the empty offices, but for what he wasn't sure.

Glancing at his phone, Lake wouldn't be out for at least another fifteen minutes. His curiosity simply was not going to last that long.

"Excuse me, sorry," he said, having finally broken and walked over. The girl looked up at him, and they were around the same age. He could swear that they didn't go to school together. Ugh, where did he know that face from?

"Yeah?" she asked, voice also picking at his brain in a way that should be obvious.

"Hi, sorry to bother you, it's just- do I know you? You look so familiar," he said, figuring at this point he just needed to ask, even if it sounded weird. God, he hoped it didn't sound like a pick up line. To his relief, she didn't look bothered by the question, she didn't even look too surprised.

"Oh, I don't think so. You might've seen me on the news though? That would be my guess," she said, which wasn't the answer he expected. That might explain it though.

"You were on the news? That's probably it, sorry it was just driving me crazy. What were you on for?" Jesse asked, going for even more friendly now to make up for probably asking a question she got a lot.

"Ah, nothing like, impressive. I went missing almost two years ago? I was found though," she said, and Jesse immediately paused at that. He couldn't think of a missing person case to put her face to, but if she was missing...

"I think I heard about that," he lied, clenching his hand instinctively. "Were you on a train?" He continued, trying for casual and not quite getting there. Maybe... he hadn't spent much time with the Apex, but those were the only other passengers he met, so...

The look she suddenly gave him was almost answer enough, the suspicion there making him think that a train probably hadn't been mentioned in whatever news story she was on. Her eyes glanced down at his clenched hand, and he could see some connection being made there.

"Yeah. I was," she said simply. "Did you hear about that from the news, or..." she trailed off, but Jesse understood the unspoken question.

"No, more uh, personal experience," he said, the red haired girl nodding.

"Right," she said, and it was obvious that her whole posture had changed now. "Are you here for the convention?" she asked, Jesse shaking his head.

"Oh no, I'm just waiting for my partner. Their therapist works here," he explained, and there was still something frustrating about this girl. If she was in the Apex why was she off the train now? Should he get Lake and try to run before she saw them? He'd gotten a much better judge of character since getting off the train, and this girl didn't seem bad to him.

"Trying to make sure they don't follow in your footsteps? Good move," she said, but Jesse quickly shook his head.

"Oh no, they were on the train too. That was actually where we met," he said, figuring it wouldn't hurt to give that much. Plus, the look of surprise on the girl's face was pretty funny. If she was in the Apex, she clearly didn't recognize him.

"Really? That's... actually pretty cool," she said, a small smile on her face. "Well, I'm gonna be in town for the week, if you, or both of you, want me talk about the train sometime," she said, and Jesse still wasn't sure if he would follow through on that, he'd have to ask Lake first. Even still he smiled, holding out a hand to her.

"That could be nice. My name's Jesse, by the way. They're not here right now but my partner's name is Lake."

"Nice to meet another passenger, Jesse. I'm Tulip."

Oh.

Oh he was dumb.

"Uh, everything okay?" Tulip asked, and Jesse guessed his face probably looked pretty weird right now.

"I didn't know you had red hair," was what he blurted out, clearly only confusing her more. He felt the need to defend himself though. He was just so used to silver, but now that it was pointed out he could see the similarities clear as crystal.

"What?" Tulip asked, lost by his response. Before he could figure out how to explain himself an even more familiar voice, one he knew he could place in his sleep because he had before, spoke up.

"Okay, I'm good to go. Let's get out of here quick, this place is crawling with computer nerds today. It keeps making me think of- uh-"

Tulip had completely frozen, staring over at Lake in obvious disbelief. Lake looked stunned, eyes darting back and forth between him and their former prime. Jesse started laughing nervously, unsure what else to do as he started speaking.

"Hey Lake, it's uh, it's Tulip! Surprise..."

There was a beat of silence, like the whole world was holding its breath for just a moment. And then...

"You-"

They both started shouting at the same time, leaving Jesse stranded in the middle. This whole thing was... very unexpected, to say the least.

But at least he knew where he recognized Tulip from now.

#infinity train #jesse cosay #lake infinity train #tulip olsen #jesslake #i like thinking of different fun ways for them to meet tulip #almost all of them involve jesse not realizing this person #has the same face as his fucking soulmate #because its funny and relatable to me

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leossmoonn · 3 years

Text

Personal Pillow

masterlist

pairing - jess mariano x fem!reader

type - fluff

note / request - requested by @elovescm “ok so i’m thinking jess mariano x fem!reader in which reader calls jess & says she can’t sleep so jess climbs in through her window to cuddle and read her to sleep <3 and just to add a little something - jess definitely would be very touchy (not necessarily in a sexual way) like playing with your hair etc” . not really edited, enjoy!

summary - jess comforts you after a restless night

warnings / includes - very mild language (like on or two words), lots of loving touching (hair playing, back scratching, etc.), kissing, jess reading little experts from the color purple (literally one of the best books ever)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“c’mon, pick up, pick up,” you muttered as you laid by the phone, praying that your boyfriend was also having a sleepless night, or was still for other reasons.

“hello?” jess picked up after the fifth trill.

“oh, thank god,” you muttered. “y/n, what’s up? it’s one in the morning,” jess asked.

“i’m having a lot of trouble sleeping. every time i try to sleep i feel so uncomfortable. i have weird dreams and i just wanted to talk to you,” you explained.

“i’m sorry,” jess sighed groggily. “it’s fine. i don’t know why my brain and body won’t shut up. i know it’s fall break, but i’d still like to get a decent amount of sleep,” you huffed.

“let me see if i can help,” jess said. “please do,” you exhaled deeply.

you heard some rustling from his end before he talked again.

“your folks still in south carolina?” he asked. “yep, and won’t be back until tomorrow night,” you answered. “great,” jess said, a hint of a smile in his voice.

you didn’t think anything of it, though. it was best not to question him and his devious plans. you would always find out later, anyways.

“it’s really weird not having them here. i know i’m almost an adult, but it’s still weird to be alone here. like, this house is too big for just one person. it feels so cold and lonely and… ah, i’m creeping myself out.” your heart started to race and you shrunk back in your bed, finding comfort in your warm blankets.

“don’t think about that. think about… all of the cute decorations your mom is bringing back to you.”

“mm, yeah, i am excited for that. i love souvenirs,” you smiled. “i know you do. you better not break those, though. remember that one keychain i bought you when i went to michigan with my mom, and you somehow broke it by dropping it?” jess teased.

“ah, yes! but that wasn’t my fault. it was made poorly,” you giggled. “mhm, sure. you just don’t want to admit you’re clumsy,” jess stated.

“well, because i’m not!” you denied. “yeah, when you’re not clumsy, pigs will fly,” jess snorted.

“i thought you were here to make me feel better, not worse,” you pouted. “oh, i’m sorry, bubs. you know it’s all in good fun, though,” he said. you could hear his smirk.

“yeah, i know,” you smiled.

you frowned as you heard footsteps from outside. twigs were snapping, leaves crackling; it was like you were in your own stephen king book.

“jess,” you called out wearily. “what’s wrong?” jess asked. “i-i think someone is outside my window,” you whispered. “i’m going to hang up, and-and call the police.”

“no, y/n! it’s me!” jess exclaimed. you then heard a knock on your window, the same sound coming from his end of the line.

“what?” you jumped out of bed, running to your window, gasping to see jess down below, holding a few pebbles. he was in a wife-beater and blue and green plaid pajama pants. a smile lit up your face and you hung up the phone, hastily pushing the window open. “what are you doing here?” you whisper-shouted.

“well, you said you couldn’t sleep and that you wanted me to be here, so here i am,” he grinned.

you laughed, “i meant on the phone, silly.” “oh, so you’d rather me just go back home?” he tilted his head.

“no! i just… you are just full of surprises, mariano,” you sighed dreamily. “why, thank you. now, hold this ladder,” he said, putting the ladder against your wall.

“you brought a ladder?” you raised a brow. “yeah, how else was i supposed to get up through your window?” he smirked.

“you can just walk through the door, you know.”

“and that would ruin this romeo and juliet thing i got goin’ on.”

“i didn’t know you were such a romantic,” you teased. “you know you love it,” he winked.

you moved back so he could climb into your room. once he got in, you shut the window, then turning your attention to him.

“hello, beautiful,” he grinned at you. your body warmed under his gaze and you looked at him shyly, your eyelids lulling shut. your brain and body seemed to finally relax from just him being in your vicinity. it was magic how someone you loved could make you go from scared and lonely to warm and fuzzy.

“hey, handsome,” you grinned back.

his hand reached up to your face, cupping your cheek. his thumb ran across your cheekbone back-and-forth. you nuzzled into his touch, looking into his eyes with sparkling, dazed eyes. his other hand gripped your hip, caressing your skin through your over-sized tee. you watched his big, pretty brown eyes waver from your eyes to your lips. you both started to lean in, your noses rubbing together. your breathing stopped momentarily as his lips brushed against yours. so soft and gentle, you could faint.

his lips engulfed yours in a wet, tender kiss. you sighed contently, your hands crawling up his arms and up to his disheveled hair. your fingers ran through his raven locks, cradling his head closer to yours. his hand that was on your cheek went to the back of your head, running his fingers through your tangled hair.

he pulled away slowly after a few more moment, eyes fluttering open. “wanna go back to bed and cuddle?”

“yes, please,” you nodded eagerly.

he slipped his hand into yours as you led him to your bed. you both climbed in, you laying you head on his chest as soon as he got settled. you closed your eyes, bunching up his shirt in your hands.

“feel better?” he asked. “mhm,” you nodded.

“are you going back to sleep?” he asked. you hummed in thought, peering up at him. “maybe in a few minutes. i want to stay awake for as long as possible while you’re here.”

“you should go to sleep now, baby. i’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.”

“you better,” you pouted. “of course, dove.” he sat up, bringing his lips to your forehead.

you closed your eyes, butterflies fluttering in your chest. he laid back down on your pillow, bringing his arm up and sliding it behind his head.

“so, what exactly is making you uncomfortable when you try to sleep?” he asked. “i’m either too hot, too cold. my shirt, like, wraps around my body and suffocates me. oh, and the washing machine is going and it keeps waking me up. it’s creeping me out and stuff.”

“i’m sorry to hear that. well, you know, if the sock goblin jumps out of the washer and dryer and makes its way up to your room, i’ll protect you.”

you giggled, looking up at him. “why, thank you. my knight in shining armour.”

“you know me,” he remarked.

“did i wake you up?” you asked, worry suddenly clouding your mind. “kind of. i had just gotten finished with reading and was trying to go to sleep,” he explained.

“oh, i’m sorry.”

“no worries. i’ll sleep better here anyways.”

“mmm, always the charmer.” “i get it from my dad,” he snorted.

“you sure you didn’t get it from you mom’s side? you know, from luke and them?” you teased.

he grimaced, “don’t even start.” you giggled, “you love me.”

“that i do,” he confirmed.

“well, do you mind doing some more reading? help me go to sleep?” you asked.

“of course not,” he nodded. he turned his head to your nightstand, picking up the color purple. “i thought you had already read this?”

“it’s one of my favorites,” you yawned and shrugged. he chuckled, “mine, too.”

he opened to the page where you had placed your book mark. he held the book open with one hand, stroking your head with the other. he started to read from the top of the page, his voice changing pitches as he read the dialogue between characters.

his voice was music to your ears. it was low, raspy, but mellow. his eyes followed the words, rapidly going from one sentence to another. he spoke smoothly, barely any pauses of stuttering. it was amazing how fluid he was.

“here’s the thing, say shut. the thing i believe. god is inside you and inside everybody else. you come into the world with god. but only them that search for it inside find it. and sometimes it just manifest itself even if you not looking, or don’t know what you looking for. trouble do it for most folks, i think. sorrow, lord feeling like shit. it? i ast. yeah, it. god ain’t a he or a she, but a it.”

“shug is a genius,” you mumbled. “that she is,” jess agreed.

he kept on reading. this was your favourite letter that celie wrote in the book. there was so many lessons to learn from the color purple. so much truth in the words that celie wrote to nettie and god. you had always read the color purple once a year, around this time. not reading it would be like caffeine withdrawal. it was even better now since jess was reading to you.

his fingers twirled your hair around his fingers, massaging your scalp. you breathed in deeply, his masculine, sweet scent filling your nostrils. you breathed out, shoulders falling up and down dramatically. you closed your eyes, basking in his voice, his chest rising and falling, his fingers that were now gently scratching your back. the pads of his fingers crawled up your back, diving under your shirt. you shivered in pleasure at his warm touch, your muscles going limp.

“i believe god is everything, say shug. everything that is or ever was or ever will be. and when you can feel that, and be happy to feel that, you’ve found It.”

“this is making me cry,” you laughed softly. jess looked down at you, smiling fondly. his hand went back up to your head, running his fingers through your hair. “powerful stuff, huh?”

“it is to me,” you nodded. “well, it is to me, too,” jess said.

you laughed, “yeah, right. you’ve read this book like, once, and you didn’t even read it. you just skimmed.”

“well, i might have to take another look at it after tonight.”

“you can borrow my copy,” you offered. “just don’t write in it in, okay? you’re annotating drives me crazy.”

jess chuckled, “i’ll do my best.”

you sat up, your elbow holding you up. “if i see even a tiny dot of ink, you will never see your records again.”

jess grinned, admiring your barred teeth and furrowed brows. “yes, ma’am.”

you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. you laid your head back down on his chest, closing your eyes once again.

“you’re like, my personal pillow, you know? so comfortable and warm.” you snuggled deeper into his chest.

“well, i’m glad to be of service,” he rubbed your back.

you sighed contently as he massaged your shoulders, working out all the knots and kinks that had developed from midterms last week.

“thank you,” you said. “well, i’m your boyfriend. this is what i’m supposed to do, you know,” he shrugged,

“no,” you shook your head slowly. “you could’ve just stayed on the phone with me. talk to me about your book and how much you hate working at the diner. but no, you came here in the middle of the night, carrying a ladder. you are just the best.”

“i love you, y/n,” he spoke softly. “i would do anything. even if that means carrying a ladder for a mile.”

you smiled as you began to lull to sleep. you clutched his tank top, inhaling his scent one more time. jess peered down at you, watching you with loving eyes as you fell into a deep sleep. he smiled, his hand returning to your scalp. he entangled his fingers in your soft locks, massaging your scalp once more.

“goodnight, bubs. sweet dreams.”

————

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@arkofblake @myalupinblack @lukes-orange-beanie @gallysonegoodlung @iaminlovetomhollandmarvel

#leossmoonn’s 2k fanfics #jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano x reader fluff #jess mariano fluff #jess mariano imagine fluff #jess mariano fluff imagine #gilmore girls

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ja3hwa · 3 years

Text

The Manor | Park Seonghwa [1]

Word count: 1.1k

Genre: Thriller, Halloween special, Angst, fluffy? Suggestive [No Smut in this part :(]

Type: Hybrid!Seonghwa [Vampire/Wolf] x Human AFAB Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, Suggestive comments, Swearing. Let me know if I missed anything

Synopsis: After trying to prove that ghost tales are nothing but fiction you come across someone you never thought you'd meet.

| M.List | Next ->

[ Sorry for any spelling errors :( ]

The clouds that covered the night sky, bucketing down the rain has now long but past. The full crimson dusted moon now shinning her beautiful light on the dark streets below. Drunken laughter echoed the empty pathing, as a group of six young college students disturb the silence of the cold night.

“Ah, here it is! Aurora Manor.” One of your friends, well college friend anyways, speaks over the small chatter getting the groups attention.

“It is said that if you enter you will be cursed, and start seeing ghosts.” He tries to spoke the small crowd.

“I heard that Mark from chem, dared Johnny to stay the night and he almost died?!” Another spoke up, only following with a small chuckle from the back.

“You really think that true? Johnny probably got paid so much to lie. Isn’t Mark like super-rich” You scoff at your friend's stupid antics, not believing the fake tale of ghosts or ghouls that hid inside the rundown mansion.

“Not as rich as me. But if you think it’s all a lie how about you stay the night then. I’ll even pay you for it.” Jess, the girl you met in art design that also happens to be your friend’s, Liam, new girlfriend, spoke up with her arms crossed. You two had nothing against one another but she did tend to also try and one-up you whenever around Liam. I guess jealousy makes people do strange things.

“You want to give me money to spend a night in a ruined old mansion, that probably has so much shit and crap everywhere?!” You scoff not thinking any type of money could possibly get you to do that.

"20k and I'll slip in some extra cash if you get some photo proof of your stay. Text me in the morning and I'll send it to you." Her smug voice fuelled your pride to want to do it more, just to prove that she's being stupid. And 20k doesn't sound have bad. Since it's already 2:30 you would only have a couple more hours until morning. Nothing could go wrong. It's a win-win for you either way.

"Fine I'll do it, but you better send me half now!" You push past all the cheering drunks as you make your way through the small opening cut out from the rusted gating. The wind whistled around you are their cheers became mute. Looking back you see they have already started walking away, most likely heading back to the dorms.

"Assholes." You seriously begin to wonder why you even decide to hang out with them. Looking at the front door you see there isn't any locks or chains, which is odd given if this place was run-down so the city council would have tried to stop idiots like you from getting in.

You push past the large dark oak door. Entering the dark mansion, but what meets your eyes was nothing you would ever expect. It was fully furnished. A Beautiful dark green and black wallpaper, with golden pearl accents designed around the walls. The floor is dark slicked oak, similar to the door but milkier rather than dark chocolate.

"What the..." you whisper out looking around the entrance, a fireplace lit making the room warm, a chandelier bright above you, with a large staircase with deep green carpet laying on top.

'Someone has to be living here?! Why does it look like this but ruined on the outside? What was johnny talking about it being haunted?' So many questions running through your mind. You were going to continue with the questioning until a sweet scent hits your nose. The smell of cinnamon, roses petals, a hint of white chocolate. It was dusky, maybe some lavender? Your brain started to go fuzzy from the scent, wanting to find where it came from. Like a pull, directing where you need to go.

"Hello?" You call out, instantly regretting it.

"Are you stupid, that's how people die!" You smacked your forehead at your stupidity, having not retained knowledge of typical horror movie tropes. A young girl wanders into a mysterious house, she wanders around calling out to see if anyone is home, from that the killer finds her before she could find them. Bang boom dead. You weren't about to make that true.

Walking up the stairs you see three ways to go. Forward to a large door, similar to the front entrance. Or left and right, both were with deep hallways, doors along the wall and the unknown of what is behind each one.

The grand door is a dead giveaway for mystery, but the thought of "if I was in a horror movie where would the main character go?" and just like that you go in the opposite to that thought, going left down the hallway.

It is silent, with no sound except the creaking of some floorboards you tried so hard to not make a squeak. One door in the long hall was cracked opened, a small light illuminating the other side. The sweet scent you smelt before crept through your nose again. It was coming from behind the door. Your mind gives up on the stupid movie theory, pushing the door open slowly.

You pushed further into the large room, eyes unsure what to take in first. A couple of candles are placed on a small Victorian coffee table. A king bed, with a canopy hovering above it, draping it in maroon satin velvet. Everything in the room was different from the rest of the manor, having a crimson palate rather than the deep green monochrome scheme. There were other furnishings in the room, trying its hardest to make the large room look more full — a dresser, side tables, lounging chairs and even a grand bookcase next to a small roasting fireplace. It all looked so expensive despite the exterior of the home. All that was left to gaze upon was large double doors that you could only imagine lead to a balcony of some sort. There was another doorway, which you expected to be a closet. It was cracked open like someone had been in it at some point recently.

"Now how did you manage to get this far without my brothers smelling you." Your heart stops hearing a deep growl echo in the door. You back a bit, slowly trying to get to the door but instead of your back hitting the wooden framework, you bump into something, or should you say, someone. Tall and warm, he wraps his arms around your waist, leaning down to whisper in your ear;

"You smell intoxicating darling."

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wild-karrde · 2 years

Note

This game has been so fun! Can't wait for the 300 followers celebration for some more awesome ficlets. I have a feeling it's going to be very soon!

"Are you flirting with me?" + Kix xD

YESSSSS this was such a fun prompt to end on! lt's been an awesome celebration and am so happy you've enjoyed it as much as I have. Thank you for the ask! :)

Rating - T (canon-typical violence, some suggestive discussions)

“GET KIX! THE GENERAL IS HIT!”

You feel gloved fingers pressing against the wound in your side, trying to stem the flow of blood. Jesse has his helmet off, and you see fear in his eyes.

“S’alright, Jess,” you slur. “Can barely feel it.”

He looks over his shoulder, snapping out a few more demands before pulling your tunic up, wincing as he examines the wound.

“I kriffing told you not to go charging out there. But you’ve got a lightsaber and know everything,” he mutters.

Your brain is working hard to formulate a snarky response, but the ringing in your ears is distracting. The Separatist tank had been a little closer than you’d anticipated, and Jesse was probably right, but you certainly weren’t going to admit that right now.

You hear shuffling to your right, and turn your head to see Kix scrambling down the embankment you’re leaning against. He looks you up and down before squatting down and digging through his pack.

“You’ve sustained some internal damage, but the most pressing issue is the gaping hole in your side that’s spewing blood,” he says evenly. You feel his gloved fingers graze your neck, pulling the collar of your tunic down as he injects you with something. The pinch of the needle is unpleasant, but a whisper in comparison to the roar of the pain that’s radiating through your body. You feel yourself start to warm, your muscles relaxing, and your brain goes fuzzy, the pain becoming nonexistent as your head swims. Kix is ordering Jesse to help roll you onto your uninjured side, and you feel strong hands rotate you. You wince as your head lolls hard, banging against the ground.

“We need to get this tunic off so I can bandage the abdominal wound,” Kix says to Jesse, and the medic starts carefully cutting your top off.

“If you wanted to get me naked, Kix, all you had to do was ask,” you mumble, and you feel Kix’s hands freeze on your shoulder. Jesse snorts loudly.

“What kind of pain med was that?” he teases, and Kix shakes his head as he wraps the bandage around your stomach with nimble fingers.

“Shouldn’t have been anything too potent,” he mutters.

Jesse surveys you and the way your eyes are lazily rolling around between the two of them. “Oh, I think it’s pretty darn potent. The general suddenly has a sense of humor.”

Kix shakes his head in annoyance. “Here, help me get them up. I can get them back to the gunship myself.”

“What and miss all the fun?”

Even through your brain fog, you can tell Kix is about to snap, but their bickering is interrupted by Rex barking orders from across the way.

“JESSE! WE NEED TO MOVE.”

Jesse turns, slipping his helmet back on. “You sure you can manage?” The question is genuine, concern sneaking back into his modulated voice.

“Yeah. Get going. We’ll see you back at camp,” Kix responds, hoisting his bag over his other shoulder as he slings your arm across his back, holding most of your weight as you slowly start to trudge back the way you’d come.

“Let me know if you need to stop,” Kix says quietly as he helps you along. You roll your neck to look at him, smacking your face against his helmet.

“Ouch,” you mutter.

He sighs in annoyance. “Jesse was right, you really shouldn’t have rushed out there.”

You huff in response. “You know, you really need to work on your bedside manner, Kix.”

“So I’ve heard,” he grunts.

“I’d be willing to help you work on that bedside manner,” you mumble boldly, wiggling your eyebrows despite the fact that your entire body feels increasingly more gelatinous with every passing second.

He pauses, whipping his head around to look at you. “Are you flirting with me? Right now?”

You feign offense. “Wha? Me? Flirt? Right now? Noooooo no nonono definitely not.”

He sighs, proceeding onwards. “Didn’t realize I’d be babysitting a Jedi today.”

You opt to remain silent for the remainder of the trek, instead having a philosophical conversation with yourself in your mind about how weird the word “jizz” is and how there has to be a better name for that genre of music. You feel like you’re making good points in your internal debate as Kix eases you onto a pull-down bunk just inside the gunship, beginning to check your vitals once more. He takes his helmet off, setting it just under your bunk as he squats down to examine your side some more. You’re staring at him, and you know it, and he definitely knows it, but you still can’t bring yourself to stop.

“You know, if I was going to flirt with you, I’d be waaaaay smoother about it,” you say, struggling to keep your saliva from leaking out of the corner of your mouth.

He raises an eyebrow at that, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?” he asks.

“Yup. I’d tell you how great your eyes are and how I can easily get lost in them. Or I’d talk about how I really think it’s endearing how long you take to cut the lightning bolts into your hair, even if it’s wildly impractical.” You chuckle and so does he. “Or how I like how your hands feel on my back when you brace me whenever the gunships hit turbulence.”

His hands stop moving, but his eyes don't meet yours. “You notice that, huh?”

“Yeah. And the way you always make sure I’ve got enough water to drink when we go out to 79s. It’s sweet,” you slur. Kix is watching you intently now as you continue on, completely unaware and uncaring about how your words are falling as the painkiller continues to keep you off-kilter. “I like how you smile into your drink when you’re trying to stifle a laugh at Fives and Jesse’s antics. I like how your tongue pokes out a bit when you’re thinking really hard.” You sigh deeply, allowing your right hand to flop onto his vambrace. “I just like you, Kix.”

He’s staring at you slack-jawed for a few moments before he shakes his head, chuckling quietly.

“What?” you mumble. “What’s funny?”

He takes your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it before placing it on your chest. “You’re drugged out of your mind right now, so I’m going to chalk this entire exchange up to that. We’ll see if you remember it and feel the same when you come down from your high.” He straightens, satisfied that your bandage will hold for the ride back to camp.

You snag his hand quickly before he’s able to walk away. “And if I do?”

He smiles down at you, giving your hand a light squeeze. “Then maybe we should get dinner.”

You grin like an idiot, snuggling back onto the bunk. “Then you’ll get to see me really flirt.”

He huffs a laugh. “I look forward to it, General.”

Thank you for participating in my 200 Follower Celebration! :)

#karrde writes #200 follower celebration #follower celebration #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #clone medic kix #kix #kix x reader #jedi reader #kix x you #fluff #kix has good painkillers #clone trooper jesse

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pippytmi · 3 years

Note

Supercorp + Hogwarts AU + meet messy + "is that the best you can do?"

“Hey, do you guys want to see a muggle magic trick?”

Kara doesn’t have to look up to know Alex and Kelly are exchanging glances over Nia’s head. Nia is the best witch in the fifth year hands-down, but her grasp of muggle illusions leave a lot to be desired.

“Sure…” Kelly agrees, politely but unsurely, while Alex shakes her head.

“If this is that stupid coin trick again, Nia—” she starts, but Nia is already squeezing between them on the grass, unfolding a pack of muggle playing cards.

“It is not,” Nia says. “Prepare to be amazed! Yvette says I’m really good at this one.”

“Oh, joy,” Alex mutters under her breath, which turns into a pained yelp when Kelly elbows her in the ribs.

Kara finally raises her gaze from the newspaper she’s been half-reading, fully prepared to commit to Nia’s trick, but then she catches a glimpse of dark hair and a brisk pace. It’s Lena Luthor, notorious loner, actually sitting outside by the black lake with her books.

It’s odd—Lena never sits outside. People talk; Lena doesn’t have many friends (someone even started a rumor that Lillian Luthor pays Jess, another sixth year, to hang out with Lena). In fact, the only time anyone really sees Lena is in class, or in the Slytherin common room when Jess is also there. Kara sees her even less (only when Slytherin and Gryffindor share classrooms), but that doesn’t make the hopeless crush she’s fostered on her since they were eleven any less potent.

Kelly starts clapping suddenly, reluctantly dragging Kara’s eyes from Lena (who is reading a book; Kara is wondering just what kind of book it is). “Aw, Nia, that was good!” she says. “Do it again!”

Even Alex is curiously lifting up the cards one by one, as if trying to determine the trick herself. “Did you use actual magic for this?” she asks.

“I’m just that good,” Nia brags, though the way she tries to expertly shuffle the cards right back into their box suggests otherwise; half of them spill onto the grass. “Oh man!”

“I’ve got this,” Kara says, absentmindedly reaching for her wand. “Accio—”

“Kara, no!”

Oh, that’s right, Kara thinks belatedly. My wand is broken. It had been an unfortunate event on the Quidditch pitch involving an overzealous Hufflepuff seeker (Winn is still very apologetic about it, but it can’t be helped now). Unfortunately, Kara never seems to quite remember that magic is off-limits until it can be fixed.

And even more unfortunate is the fact that her mind and her words have begun to converge; she’s thinking about the book Lena is reading while glancing at the cards, and her mouth is forming silent words, and really it’s not a surprise at all when said book rockets out of Lena’s hands and aims right for Nia’s head.

No one dies, though, nor do they have to make the unpleasant trudge to the infirmary—Kelly is far quicker than any of Kara’s botched magic, and the book explodes into nothing when she mutters a firm, “Evanesco.”

“Kelly!” Kara forgets, for a second, about the whole Nia-about-to-break-her-face thing; her heart drops to the pit of her stomach at the thought that something of Lena Luthor’s has been reduced to figurative dust. What if that book was personal? What if it was special? What if it was—

“Excuse me,” says a quiet, sudden voice, and Kara just about falls over in the grass at the sight of Lena Luthor standing there. “I think you summoned my book.”

Kelly winces. “Oh, actually—”

“I destroyed it,” Kara blurts out, because really, this is her fault and Nia still has a face so the least Kara can do is take a fall for a friend. “I’m sorry. My wand is broken, and I was trying to summon some cards, but I was looking at you and thinking about your book and it just…I’m sorry. Again. I can pay for it?” She immediately begins digging into the pockets of her robes, but all she manages to scrounge up is a broken sugar quill and a drawing on a torn sheet of paper that depicts Professor Grant as a dragon.

For a moment, all Lena does is stare down at Kara in a peculiarly quizzical way. She doesn’t seem mad or anything, just perplexed. A second later she says, “You were thinking about ‘Voyages with Vampires’ strongly enough to summon it? I don’t really enjoy Gilderoy Lockhart books myself.”

“To be fair,” Kara’s quick to defend herself, “I couldn’t read the title from this far.”

“Right. You decided you wanted to snatch my book from me because it was mine.” And just like that, the curious expression on Lena’s face drops entirely, twists into something resigned and exhausted. “Is that the best you can do? Petty little child games?”

“What? No, I would never—”

“Because last week Eve Tessmacher hit me with a furnunculus curse that was far more clever than this,” Lena all but sneers. “It’s always the pig-headed Gryffindors that aim out of their league.”

“You wanna say that again?” Alex is jumping up, her wand brandished out, and Lena glances from her to Kara to Kelly to Nia, as if just realizing how potentially outnumbered she could be.

Except, well, that’s so not the issue. Kara hastens to stand between Alex’s wand and Lena’s body, nearly knocking her sister over in the process. “No! No, I didn’t do that as a prank, I—” She pauses, feels her cheeks go hot, and then rushes out, “Ijustthinkyou’rereallypretty!”

Alex lowers her wand; Kara can tell, because Alex uses it to jab her in the ribs. “Oh, bloody hell,” Alex grumbles, and she nudges Kelly to join her. “I think that’s our cue. I’d rather study for Potions than watch this.”

Kelly obligingly drags Nia along, who looks like she wants to protest, but eventually Nia caves in—though not without trying to wink conspiringly at Kara, which doesn’t work because Nia “winks” with both eyes.

“But—” Kara watches as her friends scatter, and then she is left with the heavy, accusatory gaze of Lena Luthor. She tries to smile, but imagines her attempt is more of a wince than anything. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”

Lena takes a step forward. She raises her chin in the air, no less guarded, but her eyes convey a tiny bit of that earlier curiosity all the same. “You’ve already had your fun, Kara Danvers,” she says. “But I will give you credit, no one has played the ‘I have a crush on you’ prank yet.”

Kara frowns. “Do people really play pranks on you so much?”

“I am the weird little sister of a boy who tried to blow up Hogwarts,” Lena all but deadpans. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re way more than Lex Luthor’s sister, and that’s just...really mean,” Kara says, words bursting out before she even pauses to rein them in. “I mean, you are so smart! Last year you saved a bunch of first years who wandered into the Forbidden Forest. A-and you never tried out for Quidditch, but sometimes you fly with Jess on the pitch and you’re so fast you could easily run circles around anyone on the Slytherin team. You’re the coolest person ever. Even when you were eleven, you—” Finally, her brain starts to catch up with her mouth, and Kara flushes hotter than she ever thought possible. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean for that to sound…stalker-y. I only know about the first year thing because Professor Grant’s son was new that year and I was supposed to be babysitting him. And then the flying, well, sometimes I go to the pitch with Winn whenever he wants to practice—”

“Kara. You can breathe any time you want,” Lena prompts, and Kara pauses to do exactly that.

“Sorry,” Kara adds, again, after she’s let her lungs rest a bit. Her whole body feels shivery from head to toe, like she is seconds away from fainting, and honestly? She just might. “Anyway. Um. I can replace that book if you want. Or I can give you the money and you can pick out a better one, since you said you weren’t a fan? Whatever you want.”

Lena is quiet for a beat. “What were you going to say before? About when I was eleven?”

Kara bites her lip so hard she knows she will inevitably have to ask Kelly to heal it later. “Oh, that,” she says evasively. “I meant, when you were eleven, and I walked face-first into the wrong wall trying to get to platform nine and three quarters, and you didn’t even laugh at me. You just...helped me up, and promised you would walk with me to the train until I found my family again.”

“I remember,” Lena says, and her voice is softening, as is her expression. “You somehow got lost between platforms seven and eight. Your sister was furious when she caught up with us.”

“Yeah.” And Kara finds herself smiling at that memory; this time it’s a real smile, and she couldn’t stop it if she tried. “That was really nice.” She wants to mention more—how even when Lillian Luthor scowled at Kara’s hand-me-downs, Lena complimented her right away on the shirt that had once been Alex’s—but all Kara does right now is step back. “I’ve bothered you enough, I think. Will you…let me know? About the book?”

“I don’t care about the book,” Lena says, and she swallows, loud enough that Kara can hear it. “Do you mean it?”

“That you’re...nice?”

“Yes.” Lena’s cheeks are a faint pink color, and Kara’s entire mouth goes dry.

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, and in that moment—with Lena blushing, and Kara’s chest tightening—they both know that she’s confessing to so much more than thinking Lena is nice. “So. Um.” She squares her shoulders, and prepares to be brave enough to live up to the Gryffindor name: “Can I buy you something that’s not a book? Sometime? Maybe on our next trip to Hogsmeade?”

“Like a date?” Lena asks, so impossibly soft, and Kara nods.

“Exactly like a date,” Kara says, and honestly, she should demand ten points to Gryffindor herself because her voice does not waver once.

And Lena Luthor smiles, just cautious enough to show how unsure she is, but still warm enough that Kara’s heart skips a beat. “Okay,” she says. “But on one condition: I’ll handle any magic until then.”

“Deal,” Kara agrees, and it’s official; breaking her wand might have been the best thing that has ever happened to her, ever.

#took some liberties w/the meet messy hope thats ok!!!#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #i went as vague as possible w/the hp setting :///#hope its not too glaringly obvious how little i know about hp #now to tackle the other 5 hp aus in my inbox....yall want to see me suffer so bad #(jk i love all the prompts in my inbox ur all too sweet)#🥺❤️

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thornedrose44 · 2 years

Text

Intimate Strangers

“I love you.”

It was this declaration, more than her impending death on a plane that she wasn’t supposed to be on, that truly shocked her.

(Lena fleetingly acknowledged how this revelation would probably horrify her therapist and provide more than enough material to fuel her weekly therapy sessions for a good year - though judging from the smoke billowing off the engine out the window it was unlikely that she would be spending anymore time unpacking the trauma of her childhood.)

It took about five seconds for Lena’s brain to reboot; blinking rapidly at the blonde woman sitting next to her in the aisle seat, the middle seat empty - Lena had been denied first class so had treated herself to an additional seat next to her own to ensure she wouldn’t have to socialise.

The blonde smiled warm and bright at her - it was a smile that tempered the fear and adrenaline pounding through her veins. It was a beautiful smile that on any other occasion would have turned Lena into a giddy, flushing gay mess that would have Sam, Jess and Andrea rolling their eyes and muttering a ‘useless lesbian’ under their breaths. It was a breathtaking grin that would have, for the blissful seconds that it was directed towards her, cast out all the dark shadows that had accumulated inside the youngest Luthor.

But it wasn’t just any other day.

Today, she was going to die.

It was a nice view to look at on her way out though, which is why Lena forced out a response, voice coming out high and strangled as the plane shimmied and vibrated, battered by the wind currents as the pilots attempted to glide the plane safely in its unplanned descent.

“Excuse me?”

“I love you.” The blonde repeated, blue eyes twinkling with sincerity.

Lena’s heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of those blue, blue, blue eyes, feeling for a flash of a second something different to dread.

“Did you hit your head?” Lena inquired, leaning forward to check for blown pupils or any other signs of concussion. There had been a particularly bad bout of turbulence when the engine had ‘exploded’, and Lena worried that the tossing and turning had led to her companion whacking their head too hard.

“No.” The blonde laughed, the sound stilted and strange, not just because of how it contrasted with the panicked din of distress that pervaded the cabin, but because it didn’t fit the blonde. It ended too quickly, wasn’t as full bellied as Lena would expect from someone with eyes that crinkled at the sides with such joy and smiled like it was her default setting. “I have a suggestion. A kind of crazy one.”

“Crazy ideas are the best kind of ideas.” Lena replied, quoting the brother she had once loved from her childhood. “Make your pitch.”

The blonde’s brow furrowed heavily, her lips pursing into a thin line - half due to concentrating on her next words and half due to the horrendous shudder that ran through the plane.

“We’re most likely going to die.” Lena’s companion declared.

“Not the best of opening lines,” Lena tsked even as her fingers curled around the edge of her seat’s armrests, nails digging in - falsely believing that holding onto something would ground her despite being thousands upon thousands of feet in the air. “I would suggest you stay away from sales.”

“You’re funny, I love that.” The blonde chuckled, short and sweet but far more genuine than her previous attempt at displaying humour. The blonde licked her lips, glancing only for a second towards the window where the grey smoke had turned a shadowy black. “We’re most likely going to die and I will be honest it’s not something I’ve really thought about.” The blonde winced suddenly, shaking her head in self-admonishment, “Actually, that’s a lie. I’ve thought about it a lot. Didn’t think it would happen this way. Air travel is the safest way to travel.”

Lena quirked an eyebrow at the blonde’s rambling monologue and forced honesty that was successful in distracting the youngest Luthor from her current situation to a certain degree. She didn’t forget that she was on a crashing plane or was probably minutes away from her own demise - it’s just that it all shifted into the background. It was merely the backdrop or setting to this nervous blonde with dazzling blue eyes and shy words.

“Anyway,” The blonde continued, dragging out the word to emphasise her return to the point, “when I do think about it, I had always hoped I would be old and that I would be…” Lena’s companion let out a shaky breath and whispered, “in the arms or at least with someone I loved. No one wants to die alone. And most want to die with someone they love. So… I was thinking… why not?”

“Why not- what?” Lena prompted, unable to connect the dots that had been thrown haphazardly out by her companion.

The blonde shrugged stiffly - she was sat upright, shoulders pressed into her seat as if to embed herself into it, the shrug was therefore filled with effort as it rebelled against the natural push of her muscles. “Love someone. We’re going to die, why not die with someone you love?”

Lena’s jaw dropped for the second time in less than a minute, if she had felt a smidge more comfortable prying her fingers away from the armrest she would have pointed an accusing finger at her own chest. “Me, you mean?” Lena questioned in complete disbelief.

Another bright smile that was veering dangerously towards charming. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

“You can’t just decide to love a stranger because you’re about to die.” Lena retorted with a weary shake of her head, “No one can love someone they’ve never met. Someone they don’t know.”

The blonde’s smile faded at that, blue eyes turning sharper than anyone would expect from a beautiful young woman that emanated an air of hope and naivete.

“I can love you.” The blonde said so seriously that Lena’s breath caught in her throat.

“You don’t know me.” Lena muttered, though it was half-hearted.

“So what? I love you.” The blonde proclaimed with her now signature sincerity. “I mean it. In this moment, right now, I love you. I love you with everything I have and will ever be. I will love you for the rest of my life.”

Lena’s gaze shifted away from those blue eyes that seemed to see her in a way no one else ever had, unable to bear how her soul felt exposed under the blonde’s eyes and how those declarations of love left her flushed and gave her a sense of security she could never have anticipated.

Lena could see glimpses of the people in the surrounding couple of aisles, snapshots of them, their relationships and their final moments.

In the row across from her was a family: middle-aged parents wrapping protective arms around their children, a boy and girl that didn’t understand what was happening other than they were seeing genuine fear on their Mum and Dad’s faces for the first time in their lives. In front of them was an elderly couple, holding hands and resting their heads against one another. Behind them was an older mother with her daughter, they were talking into a phone held between them - wanting to share their last minutes with whichever last piece of family they were missing.

“Now, isn’t that comforting to hear?” The blonde asked.

And Lena… Lena couldn’t deny that it was. It was comforting to be loved. To know someone loved her. That she wasn’t going to die with a random stranger but with someone who loved her.

It was a crazy suggestion but it was also the single greatest gift Lena had ever received.

Lena took a deep breath, eyes moving back to meet curious and (Lena could see it now) fearful blue. Gathering her courage, Lena released her white knuckle hold on her armrest and reached out for the blonde’s hand that met hers exactly halfway over the empty seat between them. Their fingers tangled together effortlessly, palms pressed against one another with ease despite how both of them trembled with terror.

Lena smiled at the blonde, stopping her honed emotional guards from surging up. Instead, she allowed herself to experience wave after wave of appreciation for the woman across from her, permitted it to rise and swell. She encouraged it to grow, nourished it with thoughts of affection and images of her companion’s smile. She prevented her usual boxing process from swinging into action, forcibly shutting down the factory and granting chaos freedom to reign supreme.

Lena allowed herself to fall in love.

Fully and wholly.

No boundaries or obstacles put in place. No need to earn or prove like Lena had demanded of so many others after being burnt too many times to count.

Lena fell in love with a perfect stranger on a crashing plane.

“I love you too…” Lena murmured, surprising even herself with how earnest she sounded, though her conviction wavered with the realisation she did not know the name of the love of her life. “Uh….”

“Kara. Kara Danvers.” The blonde supplied, seamlessly intuiting what Lena required.

“Lena. My name’s Lena Luthor.” Lena replied, squeezing Kara’s hand in her own and feeling the writer’s callus that marked the fingers she was intertwined with. “I love you, Kara Danvers. With everything I have and will ever be. I will love you for the rest of my life.” Lena repeated the sentiment truthfully and with her own soft timbre.

Kara beamed at her, immediately taking to stroking Lena’s knuckles with her curled thumb when the plane suddenly dropped for a disorienting number of seconds.

Screams and yelps suffused the air, prompting Lena to close her eyes and clench her jaw, breathing harshly through her nose.

The fear returned then, though its hold on her wasn’t as strong and overwhelming as it had been prior to having Kara’s hand in her own and declarations of love echoing in her ears. The plane halted its freefall but the terror that had spread through the passengers didn’t dissipate - everyone acutely aware of how fast the ground was rushing up to greet them and welcome them back with an unforgiving embrace.

“Tell me something about yourself, darling.” Lena pleaded, needing Kara's voice again.

“What do you want to know?” Kara asked in one rushed exhale that would have been unintelligible if Lena wasn’t tuned into her so intensely.

“We’re going to die so... Something you’ve never told anyone.” Lena requested through gritted teeth and sharp breaths to control her growing panic. She needed Kara to speak again, needed to be able to focus wholly on her again, to give the person she had promised to love her full attention again. “Something you’ve never shared as you thought people would judge you for it. Something that scares you about yourself. Tell me something with the full knowledge that I will still love you afterwards.”

For a long beat, Lena was left only with the sounds of the plane and its people. The lack of Kara’s response was far more frightening and climactic than Lena expected the plane’s inevitable collision with the Earth would be. Losing her one source of comfort was far more cruel than not having it to start with.

“I still haven’t forgiven my cousin for abandoning me after my parents died.” Kara’s whispered admission was filled with so much heartbreak and shame that Lena’s personal worries vanished in an instant. Lena blinked her eyes open as her head turned sharply to look at the woman she loved.

“I wanted my family, I wanted to be around someone who knew them and would help me remember them and he… wasn’t there.” Kara murmured, curling forward on herself, her hand going limp in Lena’s as if she wanted to pull it in and create a protective ball - Lena gripped her hand tighter in turn, lifting it up to place a tender, encouraging kiss to the back of it. Kara let out a shaky breath at Lena’s action, lifting her gaze from the floor to meet Lena’s affectionate green eyes. “I know he was young and had his own life and his own family that he wanted to start. But I never felt more unwanted or worthless than when he handed me over to a different family. I simply wasn’t worth the pain of keeping.”

Lena inhaled a shaky breath at that, her heart breaking in a thousand unfathomable ways at Kara’s confession even as every single piece of it yelled that it would happily be broken in a billion other ways for the mere chance to be cherished by the blonde next to her.

“Kara,” Lena said slowly, her tone firm and clear, lacking all the undertones of fear that had marked her previous words. “I love you and I would take all the pain in the world to keep you for a moment longer.”

Kara’s mouth opened and closed, blue eyes tearing up with relief and joy that made any verbalised gratitude completely unnecessary.

Lena placed another kiss - this one to convey understanding and acceptance - to Kara’s hand before returning their twined fingers back to the mid-space between them, restoring their equilibrium.

“Your turn.” Kara declared, her thumb returning to its soothing circular motion. “I promise I will love you just as much afterwards.”

Lena doubted that, every time she had bared her soul and its dark, sharpened edges they had merely served to sever her relationship with whomever had been exposed to it. Lena didn’t want that. Not this close to the end.

Lena intended to offer up something half-hearted, some vulnerability she had discussed with friends and her therapist, one that she understood on a logical level wasn’t damning or incriminating.

She opened her mouth ready to share her rehearsed story but open blue eyes killed it before a single syllable could be spoken. Kara smiled at her just as soft and magnificent as before, this time Lena knew it was for her, knew that smile would be hers at the end and no one else’s. It was empowering in a way that the billions in her bank account could never be but it was also a double-edged sword. The power gave her courage, made her strong which meant the walls she had already pulled down to ensure she could love a stranger were ground to fine dust, leaving her most vulnerable parts bare.

The dark edges of her soul were visible for all to see.

Therefore when Lena spoke it was not the rehearsed safety net story she had intended that came forth but a truth she had shared with no one. A truth she had never even consciously shared with herself.

“I hate my mother for killing herself.” Lena declared.

The second she made her confession, Lena wanted to slap her hand over her mouth and never speak again but the dam had been ripped apart and the torrent of water was already sweeping through.

“I hate her for leaving. I hate that she did it in front of me. I hate that she made me feel so powerless. I hate that she made me carry this guilt and trauma since I was four years old. I hate that she made me afraid of open water. But what I hate most is that she made me hate her,” The stream of words was slowing now which gave time for a choked sob to escape between clauses, “that I can never just think happy things about her because she did this thing that ripped me apart before I had a chance to form.”

Lena’s lip trembled and she blinked rapidly, desperately attempting to keep her tears from falling and her despair and self-loathing from consuming her.

“Lena,” Kara breathed, tugging gently at Lena’s hand that had, at some point, been placed in Kara’s lap and was now held by both her hands, two sets of thumbs working to ease the tension. “I was wrong, I don’t love you just as much.”

Lena’s breath faltered, a hollow vacuum punched into her chest and on the precipice of turning into a black hole that would destroy everything that Lena was when-

“I love you more.” Kara murmured before bending her head to press her own kiss to Lena’s pale hand - the adrenaline already pumping through Lena’s system kicking up a gear at the featherlight touch of Kara’s lips to her skin. Lena’s hand tingled and she was surprised, when Kara returned their hands to the seat between them, that there was no discernable mark where Kara’s lips had made contact.

“God, I love how cheesy you are.” Lena announced, only blushing slightly at her own honesty.

Kara’s entire expression brightened impossibly further at the compliment. “I love your green eyes.”

“I love your smile.” Lena returned.

“I love your honesty.” Kara shot back with a pleased twinkle in her blue eyes.

“I love your courage.” Lena muttered softly, so unbelievably grateful that Kara had spoken to her, gifted her this comfort in her final few minutes.

“I love you, Lena.”

“I love you, Kara.”

And then everything went black.

(Read the rest on AO3)

#supercorp #supercorp fic #Strangers to 'I love you' speedrun #There is absolutely zero chill in this #soft angst

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