Necessary Fuel

My name is Necessary Fuel, a long time reader of fanfic trying to create some of her own. I'm more of a drawer than a writer, but I want to branch out into different hobbies. I hope you enjoy my page~

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Masterlist

Fair Warning

The Boys

Bubblegum and Sour Candy Series

My Angel

Supernatural

(In Progress)

Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated

High Priestess

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Believe in Magic

The van jolts harshly as the slime monster attacks using its arms to shoot glowing green goo. Everyone in the van screams, holding onto something so they don't injure themselves. The monster rocks the van back and forth, everyone slamming into each other. Seeming to have terrorized you enough, the monster shambles down the street. "Zoinks!" exclaimed Shaggy who was bent over the front seat, "Like, what was that!"

Regaining control the van, Fred revs the engine while giving a determined reply, "It looks like a mystery to me, and I think that’s just a little more important than school!" Fred exits the van, rushing to follow the creature with a skip in his step. The others take their time getting onto the street as bodies ache from the thrashing about. Meanwhile, poor Endora was so frightened she's got all of her limbs wrapped around Scooby's face and is shaking like a leaf. Scooby struggles to pull her off but Endora's limbs stretch comically like taffy, likely too scared to let go. Eventually, Scooby is able to get Endora off his face and cuddle her against his chest, "Daw, rit's okay. The ronster is gone now." He gives her head a lick to soothe her which makes Endora flatten her now soaked ears. You rub your head after hitting it against the van's interior wall. You're definitely getting a nasty bump in the morning. You turn to Velma with exasperation, eyebrows quirked upwards with your lips pulled into a frown, "Does this always happen here?" Velma, rubbing her backside, responds with sarcasm, "Welcome to Crystal Cove."

Soon, you've followed the gang to the maw of a cave; dripping stalactites, musty scent, the ominous howl of the wind - definitely creepy and something made just for the Mystery Gang. Fred's flashlight highlights barrels with radiation symbols on them and that same green goo the monster was covered in. You make sure to hold Endora close so she doesn't touch any of it. Who knows what it could do to her, or any of you for that matter. Velma, focused on the barrels, walks closer to examine their condition, "These are military. From the oxidation, probably 30, 40, years old." A few feet away, Daphne has made her own discovery, "Hey! Fred, I found something!" Fred brings the flashlight over to examine the magnifying glass pendent in her hand. Popping it open reveals the images of a boy and a girl, looking to be in their teens. A small, eerie tune plays as well. Fred compliments Daphne on her find and said girl swoons from the praise.

You decided to check the barrels with Velma, "Pretty sneaky with the radioactive barrels. Someone must've put them here ages ago hoping no one would find them. Well, at least till now." Before Velma can answer, Scooby's screams echo through the cavern. All of you rush to where he was as Scooby shivers in place whimpering with fear. "What is it, Scooby?" Fred asks, petting the dog on his back to comfort him. Shaggy pipes up with a stutter, "L-Like," He takes a gulp, "that!" And points upwards at the three figures encased in green goo looking like disheveled corpses. Later, after reporting your findings to the police, you're all at street level watching as the workers are carted off into ambulances. "All right, you see what happens when you kids stick your noses where they don't belong? People get cocooned!" Sheriff Stone, as he so eloquently introduced himself, scolds the group. Based on his tone of voice, you suspect this isn't the first time he's had to deal with them. He sounds quite tired of their antics. Shaggy, in a bid to defend themselves, speaks with the sheriff, "Like, man, we found them like that." to which Daphne quickly adds, "Sheriff, there was a monster-" "Quiet." Sheriff Stone interrupts rudely, making you frown, "From this point forward, this is a crime scene and future Tourist attraction. Stay out of it."

"Ehm," All eyes turn towards you at the back as you step forward, "If I'm not mistaken, shouldn't we questioned? We are the ones who found them after all. And shouldn't public safety be a more pressing manner than another tourist trap?" Sheriff Stone is silent, his eyes squinted down towards you as you're both locked in a staring contest or rather a battle of wills. Neither of you back down. He sighs, asks your name, then continues, "Look, I don't know how they do it back in the olden country," that really ticks you off but you bite back your tongue, "but here in Crystal Cove we are the most haunted town on Earth. And ya wanna know how we got that name? Because of all the monsters. Ya wanna know how we make money? The monsters! Now, if these meddeling kids keep taking out our monsters, then what are we?" You're stumped for a moment, "Uh-" "Just another boring town! Now if you'll excuse me, I, the Sheriff of Crystal Cove, have a job to do. You kids stay out of it." With that, the Sheriff turns and walks away. Velma rolls up one of her sleeves as she growls, "I got his "stay out of it" right here." but you quickly put a hand towards her, "It's alright, Velma, I don't need you to go all street justice for me. Besides, I've met plenty of blockheads like him and trust when I say the bigger they are the harder they fall." You'd like to give the sheriff a piece of your mind yourself, but now is not the time and you'd rather not get arrested. Fred look to the group with a hopeful smile, "Let me talk to him." and walks after the sheriff. Daphne swoons from Fred's assurance and turns to the group, fluttering her eyelashes like a typical girl in love, "Don't worry. Fred will make him understand." You blink at her with an awkward smile, "Um, I wasn't really worried."

Not a minute later, Fred is seen running towards the group with one of the cocooned bodies, "Okay," you correct yourself, "Now I am worried." Fred tosses the keys to Shaggy, "Shaggy, start the car!" and the gangly teenager wastes no time getting in the driver seat. You whip your head back and forth, "Wait, I thought you were going to talk to him!?" "He wasn't in a listening mood!" Fred responds hurriedly as Velma and Daphne open the van doors. Velma comments on this, "So you stole a body? Rockin'."

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Witches are Magical People

As the gang drive along to school, Velma pipes up from the backseat, "Hang on, Fred, stop up ahead. I wanted to pick someone up before school." The others are confused. Fred, at the wheel, shrugs "You got it, Velma." and stops the car in a parking spot. Velma opens the back doors and yells out your name as you walk up the sidewalk "Hey! Let us give you a ride!" You're surprised but grateful nonetheless as you jog over to the Mystery Machine. You hop into the back and seat yourself next to Velma, "Thakns very much, Vel." "No problem, I wanted you to meet my friends anyways." she puts an arm around your shoulder and gestures to the rest of the passengers, "Gang, meet my friend. She recently moved here from England and I've been assigned her school guide." "Over there is Fred," She points to the blonde haired-driver with the strong chin and he waves at you from the rearview mirror, "Hey, nice to meet you! Any friend of Velma's is a friend of ours." "Next to him is Daphne," you've seen her face a lot at school. She's in your Biology class, "Hi! It's so nice to have another girl in here." "This is Shaggy," Shaggy pauses mid-bite of his impossibly tall sandwich to smile and wave at you, "Like, nice to make your acquaintance, dude." "And last but not least, is Scooby!" said dog bounds over to you, sniffing curiously at your sweater before giving a slobbery lick to your cheek, "Rice to meet you." Giggling, you wipe the slobber from your cheek and introduce yourself, "Like Velma said, I'm from England. Bristol to be precise. I moved here with my parents because dad was called in as a specialist in his field. It's so very nice to meet you all." Suddenly, your bag begins to shuffle in your arms. While the gang is confused, you click your tongue with annoyance and open your bag. Your black cats head poking out immediately, "You! How many times do I have to tell you you can't come to school with me." At first the others are wary while you pull Endora from your bag. Cats and dogs do not mix, "Everyone, I'd like for you to meet my sneaky little void creature. Her names Endora." Endora meows as a greeting making Daphne gush, "Awwww she's so cute! Look at her big round eyes! And those soft little ears. Oooh I could just hug her and squeeze her forever." Shaggy makes a gesture to grab at Scooby's collar but you're quick to reassure him, "Oh no, you don't have to do that. Endora loves dogs. She has a way of wrapping them around her little paw." You hold Endora close to Scooby. At first the Dane warily sniffs at your cat, to which Endora responds by licking his nose and nuzzling his chin. Scooby giggles, "Dawwww," before taking Endora to cuddle with her on the floor of the van while she makes biscuits in his stomach. Seeing the cuteness makes you and the girls coo and take pictures on your phones, "See, I told you she has a way with dogs." "Like, I've never seen Scooby with a cat like that before. Might be, like, magic or something."

You shrug at Shaggy's comment, "Well, black cats are known to be familiar's to witches. So she might have some magic in her," you put your hand to your mouth to stifle a giggle, "the only magic she has, however, is to conjure up another stomach for food." Shaggy chuckles as well, "Like, a cat after my own heart." "Well," Fred starts, "I'm glad to have met you. Y'know, I don't mind picking you up for school." Fred's offer surprises you. He'd give a ride to a stranger he just met? "Um, that's very nice of you but I wouldn't want to intrude. You seem to have your own dynamic here and I wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone." Your hearts in the right place. You've only just met and they were already treating you like one of the gang. It wouldn't be right to just barge into their lives. Fred quickly claims, "It's not a problem at all! Like I said, any friend of Velma's is a friend of ours." This makes you smile. You were fine with just one friend from school and your cat to keep you company. To be very honest, you were missing your old life back home. Maybe hanging around the mystery gang won't be so bad? That was what you were thinking, until a manhole cover shot straight up in front of the van and green smoke fills the street. Before any of you can register what's happening, a deep, gargling growl fills your ears as a green slime monster rises from the opening. It looks at the van, making everyone freeze. What have you gotten yourself into?

Believe in Magic

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There's a Little Witch in All of Us

The smell of sausage cooking wafts into your room, waking you from your dream to a pleasant scent. Sunlight slips through the curtains illuminating the decor on your dresser. Bottles of strange liquids, melted candles on their sticks, and a tablecloth with moon shapes and stars rest on the dresser. You sit up in bed and stretch your arms out, yawning loudly as you're still getting used to the time difference here. You've only moved to Crystal Cove a week ago from England so it took a while to acclimate your sleep schedule. You rise from your bed, your black cat staring owlishly at you from her perch like a black void. You chuckle at her behavior and scratch under her chin, "Good morning, Endora. It's a big day today. My first day at Crystal Cove High." Moving about your room, you work on getting dressed, "It's a bit odd they don't wear uniforms but I shouldn't have much of a problem. That just means I get to wear my favorite clothes more often." You sit on the bed to lace up your black boots, tying them doubly before fixing your hair with your brush, "Honestly, I'm a bit nervous. They say this town is haunted. Hopefully, I don't run into any ghouls or creeps during my day." Endora lets out a meow from her perch, carefully hops off, before heading downstairs to look for food, "Oh right, can't move too slowly. Being late to school is worse than running into a ghost," You think about your statement for a moment, "Right?"

Downstairs, your mother is plating the sausages to your English breakfast accompanied by sunny side up eggs, beans, and toast. Your father is already at the dining table reading the newspaper and smoking his pipe. He flips through the pages making grunting noises now and again. You enter the kitchen with a smile, "Morning mum, morning dad." Your mother smiles at you, setting the plates on the placemats, "Morning, peanut!" followed by your father who lowers the paper to reply gruffly, "Mornin', pea." then pulls the paper back up to continue his reading. You sit at the table, noticing Endora sitting at a chair with her bowl of kibble on the table. Licking her lips, you see her paws picking kibble out of her bowl to drop onto her chair so she can eat it. It's a habit she picked up when she was a kitten. You don't know how it happened but at least she's eating. Focusing on your own breakfast, you dig into your sausages, slather your toast with beans, and slurp up your eggs. Your mother sets a glass of water next to your plate, "Slow down, peanut. It isn't a race." "But mum," you gulp down the food in your mouth, "I don't want to be late for the first day!" Understanding your concern, she tries to alleviate it with a giggle, "Yes, well, I think they'll forgive the new student for being fashionably late. Now eat slower, or you'll choke." "Mind your mother, pea." Your father adds, not looking up from his newspaper. You let out a sigh to hopefully calm your nerves, "Yes, dad."

Later, your father drives you to Crystal Cove High. You watch the students pass by the car from your window, all smiling, going about their normal days. The car stops in front of the school. You grab your bag and step out of the car, "Thanks, dad. I'll see you later!" Your father responds with a stoic nod before driving away. 'Okay', you think to yourself as you walk the pathway up to the school 'It's just a normal school. Doesn't look to be haunted. I should be alright here.' you stop for a moment to touch the pendant hanging from your neck - a symbol of a daisy wheel etched into silver and threaded through a black braided cord - a gift from your nan before you left your childhood home. She said it would protect you when you least expected it. Frankly, you thought she was going senile. Although, there seemed to be a sort of assurance in her words, like she knew something was going to happen. Shaking away your thoughts, you head into the main building. You were told in an email to meet your counselor in the main office. After receiving directions from other students, you make it there with 10 minutes before the school bell rings. You step inside, speak to the office staff, and head for the door with the words 'Katherine Hughs' written on the glass. Upon opening the door, you see an older woman behind the desk and a girl your age sitting opposite. Mrs. Hughs looked like a normal school worker with her business casual attire, pinned up hair, and glasses. The fellow student looked like a smart one with her orange sweater, large glasses, and short yet maintained hair. Mrs. Hughs is the first to greet you by your name, "Welcome to Crystal Cove High. I'm Mrs. Hughs, the one who's been sending you those emails and your counselor for the rest of your high school career. This is Velma Dinkley," said student gets up to shake your hand with a kind smile to go along with it. Velma continues on for Mrs. Hughs, "Nice to meet you. I'll be helping you around campus for a while. So if you have any questions, feel free to ask me. You smile at Velma, already getting a good feeling from her, "Nice to meet you, Velma. I'm excited to be here." Needless to say, you didn't know it then, but you'd be pulled into a world of monsters and mysteries that only fairy tales describe. Except, with a little touch of magic to make the story that much more exciting.

Witches are Magical People

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High Priestess

Being the new girl in town is hard enough; being the new girl in a town like Crystal Cove is certainly not ideal. Yet you find fast friends with the Mystery Gang. One might say you add a certain flair to the mysteries. Pairings: Mystery Gang x Reader (Platonic)

A Little Witch in All of Us Witches are Magical People Believe in Magic

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The Wings of Angels are Hope and Faith Pt. 3

Rage is not the only thing Homelander felt after meeting with Stan Edgar. No, it was merely a biproduct. What he felt was powerless; powerless to his position within the company and having to face the fact that he is not Vought's most important asset but a means to an end. His once confident demeanor was systematically broken down by the reality that he means nothing in the grand scheme of themes. He hates that feeling. Soon, Homelander is zipping through the air with a sneer on his face. The wind pushes his hair back and clouds part for him as he attempts to see Becca and his son. Yet, a small trill slows his flight. The barely audible beat of wings can be heard behind him as Sanator catches up to him. How did you know he was leaving? How did you know where he'd be? As you fly next to him, you turn to address Homelander, "You left the tower in a hurry. Are you troubled?" "I don't need your fucking holy wisdom right now, Sanator. I'm just going out to see someone." Your next line stalls him, "Your son, you mean?" He halts in the sky and you beat your wings to stay floating. If looks could kill, you'd have been rotisserie chicken. Instead, he feels a tightness in his neck while he growls his question, "How did you know?" You answer with your gentle voice, "Stan Edgar told me," You see his eyes glowing red at the mention of his name and you put your hands up, but your heart rate stays the same, "If you want to see them, go ahead. I will not stop you. I only came to check on you." Homelander's eyes remain red, locked onto your face, "Why do you care?" "Because you are someone I care about." The red in his eyes flickers before remaining strong, "If you're lying to me, I swear-" "Why would I lie? I have nothing to gain from dishonesty." You keep your distance but keep talking, "You are a hero, Homelander. The greatest of them all, but a hero is not without fault. Heroes make mistakes, bad calls, wrong turns, save only a few at a time. It is difficult, gut-wrenching even. But it does happen. It is only how you rise from the ash that people will see it." "Don't give me this hero bullshit! What do you know? What do you even see that's so worthy of calling me a hero!?" "I see someone flawed, but who tries earnestly to right the wrongs he's done. You can say I have too much faith in people. But shouldn't we all have some hope within us?" For the first time today, the rage within Homelander that was bubbling slowly ebbs. He doesn't want it to, even wills it to come back, but your gentle words and true care disarm him. Homelander blinks the red away from his eyes and looks up at the clouds that surround you both, "I-I don't even know what to do, anymore. No that's not true, I know what I WANT to do."

"You don't have to decide right now." Hesitantly, you reach to grab his gloved hand into yours, "Come back to the tower. Sit with me, and I will listen. Stay and find some peace." He tenses when you hold his hand. The only time someone has touched him so gently she wanted his cooperation, and he'd gladly give it to her. However, Madelyn is dead, and here you are urging him under your wings like a scared child. Homelander takes in a deep breath, trying to control the shakiness in his voice, "I-I don't want to be alone right now." Your lips pull into a gentle smile as you tug him closer, "You'll never be alone, Homelander." "I am here for you."

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The Wings of Angels are Hope and Faith Pt. 2

It had been hours since you last saw Homelander; either he had been keeping himself busy or in hiding. Nevertheless, you could sense his rage like a coming storm; loud, thunderous, and ground-shaking. It was hard to miss the swoosh of air where he landed on the Vought tower. You watched from your perch, waiting, observing as he paced the roof with anger clear on his face and words in his mind he so desperately wants to cry out. It made it easier to startle him when his eyes settled on you. Homelander visibly flinched but covered it up with a sigh, "Jesus fuc- how long have you been there?" he snaps again, like a hissing kitten. You respond gently, "Since before you got here," you carefully step down from your perch tucking your wings behind you, "Before my mission, I would perch on the highest point of Vought tower so I could have a vantage point of the city below. It helps to see who needs saving." "Cut the heroic bullshit!" First he had to deal with Ashley giving him a blind turd, then Stormfront shows up, now you're talking like some mystic wackjob. You tilt your head slightly, golden eyes blinking back at him, "It isn't bullshit if you believe it." Slowly, you walk closer to him and Homelander watches your every move, "You have a lot on your mind. Would it help to let you speak?" To that he lets out a scoff. How could you understand what he's going through? How could you possibly know what's wrong in his life? "Oh yeah, like I wanna spill my guts out to your bird brain." A weak insult but you don't point it out. Instead, you sit on the edge of the roof, your feet dangling over the sheer drop below, "You won't know unless you try. Besides, I have time." You wait for his answer. One beat. Then two. Until- "Why the fuck is it so difficult for people to see me?" Homelander paces behind you as he tries to find the words, "It's like, I'm the most powerful being on the planet. Me! But they wanna put me on the back burner like some second rate citizen. Who does that! I have ideas! I have aspirations for this company and the Seven. But no! I gotta listen to a couple of fucking worms in suits while they fuck me up my ass!" Homelander let's out a deep sigh as that is all he wants to say. He turns to see you looking at him now. For a moment, he hears your steady heartbeat; the same as before. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. You look at him with eyes of understanding. There's no pity, no judgement, and no fear. Just absorbing everything he's just said to you. "How do you feel?" A simple question that grounds him. He blinks a few times before looking at the ground, "I'm not gonna say I'm better, cause I'm not. I just," Another sigh followed by slicking his blonde hair back, "fuck I needed that." You smile and carefully rise up to your feet. Steadily walking closer you now stand in front of him. Homelander flicks his eyes down to you, gulping from your genuine smile, "I heal more than broken bones, Homelander. Come find me again when you need someone to talk to." You don't touch him, you needn't say more, because that was all that was necessary. You step to the side and towards the door to head into the tower. Once he hears the metal door close, once he hears your footsteps fading away, does he finally take in the breath that he was holding. His palms are sweaty and his knees feel weak. Either you're trying to kill him, or you're the only good thing to come out of this nightmare.

@needa-hyperfix (thank you for waiting)

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The Wings of Angels are Hope and Faith

You could hear the screams of Blindspot from your perch on Vought tower. The cries of pain, so guttural and bone chilling, it would shake a normal human to their core, make them freeze when danger is near. That's not what Superheroes do. They do not freeze, they do not panic, they rush head first into the danger regardless of their own wellbeing. Or so you been taught. Jumping from your perch atop Vought's highest point, you free fall down the glass building. The wind whistles past your ears, it pushes against your body as you descend nearer to the ground, and whips your hair behind you. With a breath, you spread your wings wide, the feathered appendages catching the wind and pushing you upwards like a parachute. The beat of your wings is silent like an owls as you soar above the street. Some of your feathers flutter from above to land safely on the ground. You perform a half loop around Vought tower as workers within point and smile at your appearance, the angel flying through the day, some even begin praying as if you are the messenger of God. You brace yourself as you shatter the glass of the training room, stunning Ashley and Homelander as they are mid-conversation. The light of the sun halos your entrance and you spread your wings wide, only your silhouette can be seen by the human and Homelander who look at you with a mix of awe and annoyance. You descend gracefully to Blindspot's writhing form on the ground, blood spilling from his ears, and his pained grunts echoing through the room. Wordlessly, you kneel beside the young hero, take his hands away from his head and shield them with your own gentle hands. Your touch seems to calm him but not by much. A blinding light forms around your hands as your powers manifest, a low humming emits around it. Slowly, Blindspot no longer feels pain, no longer is the world deafened to him, his hearing returns to him. You rise with the young hero, helping to steady him on his feet as he holds onto you for dear life, "Wh-what happened? I can hear again!" You nod knowingly, a stoic expression on your face, "I know, because I healed you. I heard your cries from above and I came to help." Blindspot lets out a gasp. He may not be able to see you, but the way you speak, the way you hold him, makes him feel so safe. You turn to Homelander and Ashley, regarding them with a nod before introducing yourself, "My name is Sanator." Ashley's eyes widen slightly in shock as she frantically looks up your files on her tablet, "S-Sanator? Holy- uh, you're back from your mission! Africa, right? Healing the sick and injured from that flood?" For a moment, she seems impressed, until she realizes who's she standing next to. Quick to placate Homelander, she works to save her own behind, "I-I-I had no idea she was coming back, sir-"

"Shut up." Homelander snaps.

He's had enough annoyances today, what with these walking freakshows standing in front of him. He doesn't need this right now, either of them. Not with Madelyn gone. No. She would've handled this better. She- "Who the hell are you?" He blurts out, pushing down his memories of Madelyn to address you. You bow your head slightly to him, your wings twitching behind you, "It is good to finally meet The Homelander-" "Homelander," He corrects with a tight smile, "Just Homelander." You nod again, accepting the correction, "My apologies, Homelander. I am Sanator. As Ashley has mentioned I've been away on missions, healing the sick and the wounded during natural disasters and conflicts. I've worked tirelessly over the years to heal what has been broken. However, Stan Edgar called for my return." The mention of Stan Edgar increases Homelander's irritation. Before he does anything else, he growls something to Ashley that makes her face contort with fear before looking at you and Blindspot again, "Get the fuck out of here." Curt, but as to be expected. Homelander exits the training room, leaving the three of you standing there. Of all the days for this to happen it had to be today. There was one thing that did stump Homelander, something about you he wanted to know more of: The steadiness of your heartbeat and that look in your eyes. You didn't fear him like Ashley; your heart didn't race with nerves. No, you stayed completely calm. Why? Who are you, Sanator?

Chapter Two

[niabra-deactivated20210424]

I really wish all children were protected all the time

[starlitsecrets]

Remember when joining fandom as a younger person meant lurking for a bit and figuring out the vibe and etiquette instead of coming in on day one and calling people weirdos for liking weirdo shit in the weirdo factory.

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My Angel

Heaven has sent one of their angels to watch over humanity. To guide the masses into the righteous arms of God so that their souls can be saved; or that's what Vought wants people to believe. Pairings: Yan!Homelander x Angel!Supe!Reader, The Seven x Reader (Coworkers, Deep the Creep), The Boys x Reader (Frenemies)

Chapter One: The Wings of Angels are Hope and Faith Chapter Two: The Wings of Angels are Hope and Faith Pt. 2 Chapter Three: The Wings of Angels are Hope and Faith Pt. 3

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Sugar Cookies

Stupid fucking Butcher! He's such a fucking prick! He can go fuck himself for all you care! You make your way through the stadium, furiously wiping away the tears from your cheeks. He promised he wouldn't leave you, he promised! Now he's gone, he says he'll come by later, but you don't even know when later is! The least he could've done is taken you with him! At least then you'd have a ride home!

You're so lost in your heartbreak, it doesn't register that you've stepped onto the red carpet, nor the fact that you're about to bump into someone. You can't stop the inevitable crash against a brick wall, or rather a torso. Stumbling back with a yelp, apologies fly out of your mouth before you can even identify who you bumped into. You gasp but cover your mouth quickly when blue eyes meet yours, cameras flash around you, and Homelander is looking at you with concern. "No need to apologize. Are you alright, ma'am?" THE Homelander is making sure you are okay. Are you dreaming? Is this happening? Have you died and gone to heaven? Oh my god, it's Homelander! "I-I'm so sorry, Homelander, sir. I-I wasn't looking where I was going! You see my boyfriend was supposed to give me a ride and now I can't find him. He left me alone and I-I'm just trying to figure out how to get home, a-and-" reminding yourself of the situation you've been left in brings you to tears again, and a whole crowd is watching this happen. You could be on the front pages tomorrow "Stupid Girl runs into Homelander. Is she clumsy? Is she an oaf? More at 11." or something like that. It just serves to make you feel worse.

A hand comes down gently on your upper arm, shaking you slowly to get your attention, "Aw come on now, ma'am. I'm sure your boyfriend isn't too far away." Looking up again, you see Homelander smiling down at you, "There she is." your heart jumps at those words. Butcher does that to you. He says that to you. Coming from Homelander, should it feel this good? Wrapping an arm around your torso, Homelander ignores Ashley as he guides you down the red carpet, "C'mon, lets go find this boyfriend of yours! Leaving a lovely lady like you behind? I bet it was all a mistake." you sniffle at that, his words making you feel comforted even as he continues smiling for the cameras. Later, after trying in vain to reach Butcher, only to get nothing, you return to Homelander who is standing in the middle of a crowd. Camera's turn instantly to you and you have to shield your eyes from the bright lights. As naturally as breathing, Homelander steps in, "Hey hey hey, give the lady some room." with an arm out to push them away and wrap around you at the same time. He pulls you close enough to smell the leather on his suit, "I'm guessing there's no luck on calling the boyfriend, hm?" you shake your head, "No. God I can't believe he'd do this!" You look up at Homelander again. He's been nothing but kind to you; going out of his way to help you with something so simple in his eyes. That's a real superhero. It makes your heart swell - why can't Butcher be your hero? Why do you have to save him? Thinking quickly, you reach into your purse and pull out a ziploc back of star spangled sugar cookies, "Um, I made these for your earlier. When I found out I was coming to this event I figured I'd have the opportunity to give these to you. I baked them fresh last night." Homelander holds the baggie in his hands, his eyes trailing over the decorated star cookies. You bite your lip with anticipation in hopes that this humble gift will satisfy him, "I wasn't sure what kind of cookie you liked. They're sugar cookies but you don't have to eat them." He looks at you again with a different look in his eyes. Your heart catches in your throat because he may be smiling at you, but that look says something darker, "Thank you, ma'am. I will thoroughly enjoy this back at the tower. You took your time to make these for me. I'll enjoy each little bit." That should make you happy, you should be overjoyed that the number one superhero is willing to try your baked goods. So why are you scared?

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Gummy Bears

It was all so sudden yet so needed. Butcher came home late last night and saw you on the couch. As usual, he apologized, he patted you on the leg, and he expected you to be fine with it. It was going to take a lot more than that to get you to forgive him, and you were ready to put up a fight if necessary to get your point across. That is, until he said he got tickets to Shockwave v A-Train race tomorrow, "Thought I'd take you out on a proper date this time. I've been a right arsehole lately and I'd be a damned fool to lose out on a girl like you." He leans down so he can lay behind you, waving the tickets in front of your face like bait. It was really that easy, "C'mon, sweetheart, I promise this time I ain't cuttin' out on you so quick." That was it, he had you. Some part of you still believed you could trust him. Some part of you held on to the hope he'd keep to his promise. So while you turned around to hug him, the pepper his neck with your sweet kisses, you're unaware of his real intentions on bringing you. The stadium is crowded with people. You're having trouble squeezing past everyone to find your seat if not for Butcher's aid. He had a firm hand wrapped around yours, keeping from falling and potentially losing you. The sun beat down on you, hot and irritating, yet you couldn't find it in you to be mad. You're sweaty, your clothes feel sticky, and the guy next to you smells like a pig, but you couldn't be any happier. You're practically vibrating in your seat out of excitement. You hug Butcher's arm, the crinkling of the gummy bear bag drowned out by your squealing, "Oh my god, Butcher! We're really here! On a date! Eeeeeee!" Butcher has to gently shush you as eyes look to your squealing, "Calm it down there, sweetheart. Save your energy for the race." You nodded diligently, stuffing a gummy bear past your lips and chewing on the sweet candy. How long has it been since Butcher took you on a date? Weeks? Months? It was too far to remember. You mainly stay at home with nothing special but the dinners you make him. Being here with Butcher, now, out in the open, has you on Cloud 9. Nothing can bring you down! You don't even notice the distracted look on Billy's face and the person he's talking to! Everything is going great! "Here comes the A-Train! All Aboard!" You scream as the train whistle goes off all around the stadium and you stand up with the audience to watch as A-train makes his way onto the track, "The train is ready to leave the station!" You grab Butcher's arm and shake him a bit due to your excitement, you've never seen an A-Class supe this close before, "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Billy! It's A-Train! It's A-Train!" Billy gently grabs your hand to get it off him, "Yeah, yeah, I can see'em sweetheart. Don't have to rattle me like a baby." You're too busy hollering to chastise him for his crude remark. This is so amazing! When A-Train raises his arms for the crowd, you join in on cheering for them. "I'm just a young gun, ready to shock the world." As A-Train's entrance track fades away, the announcers reports "Ladies and gentlemen, here comes Shockwave!" and you are cheering along with the crowd again. Although you've heard of Shockwave making his rounds in the hero industry, you have yet to see how he can prove himself against one of the Seven. As the race begins, all eyes are on the track. Sweat beads down from your forehead, down your cheek, and down your chin. You're gripping onto the seat in front of you as a hush falls over the crowd. Everyone has their eyes peeled open to watch the race of the century between the two fastest supes on the planet. You bite your lip as the countdown begins, the two speedsters taking their places on the track, and your eyes burning from the strain of keeping them open. Before you can even blink, the gun fires, the concrete barricades split in half from the force, and the speedsters have already crossed the finish line. All heads turn to the screen with A-train declared the winner as the camera shows him crossing the finish line.

You cheer along with the crowd, glad to have come, glad to have seen this momentous occasion with the one you loved. Turning to where Butcher is sitting your thoughts halt. Where's Butcher?

Chapter Eight: Sugar Cookies

[ex160-blog1]

Cookie Dough Ice Cream Pt. 2

As promised, Popclaw leaves the salon looking gorgeous. You did an amazing job pleasing the client and making her look exactly how she wanted, maybe even better than she hoped. She was grateful for your service; so grateful, in fact, that she left you a hefty tip. This interaction gave you a brief pause in your life; gave you the breathing room to forget why you were so upset before. It made you feel so good, that you decided to call Butcher during your break. Stepping into the breakroom, your hand wields your phone as you put in Butcher's number. The smile is back on your face as you can only hope your good day doesn't end. You hoped after last night, Butcher learned his lesson, that it's not right to leave you alone, to leave you wanting more. So as you put your phone near your ear, all you want is the sound of his voice. "We're sorry, but the number you are trying to contact is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone." Diiiiiing. You don't bother leaving a message, hanging up as soon as the automated voice ends, and your smile is gone. Fuck Butcher. Fuck him and his stupid job that's keeping him away from you. Fuck it! You sit on a chair, gripping your hair nearly ripping it out. The anger you feel makes you shake. What the hell is wrong with him? You've put up with so much, his drinking, his sarcasm, his outbursts, his brooding, all of it! And for what? To empty seats across the table, to excuses after excuses, to puppy eyes when he needs you to accept his apology and forget about it! Maybe he isn't the one for you. Maybe he isn't the man you could spend a life with. Maybe you can't change him. You punch back into work early, more frustrated than before and ready to hide under some covers to cry.

After your shift, you return home through the train station. Tired, feet aching, and your heart hurting. There is no rush to the grocery store tonight for last minute ingredients, no dash home to a fresh shower and perfume - no, none of that. Instead, you go to the shitty pizzeria near your apartment. It's the type of pizzeria with flickering lights, old tacky Italian decor, and the frozen pizzas you can see from the cash register in the back. The quality of the food is not important. All you want is something greasy and not good for you. With a freshly heated up box of pizza, you enter the shop next door. A simple grocery store that can be found on many suburban streets. Small, convenient, and dingy with broken ceiling lights and suspicious smells wafting from the bathroom. You head for the freezer area, frost building on the glass from negligence, and pull out a pint of cookie dough ice cream. Your guilty pleasure, the kind that puts pimples on your face but leaves such a wonderful feeling in your body that you can't stop eating it. As expected, you return to an empty apartment; nothing has been touched since you left for work this morning. You let out a long sigh, slamming the door shut behind you. The pink of the apartment seems duller in your eyes. That could be from your affected mood or it could be from the lights in the room. Who cares, you're just so tired. Cut to a few minutes later. You, sprawled on the couch watching trashy reality tv shows with a quilt on your lap while there's a half empty pizza box on the coffee table, and your tablespoon dipping into the ice cream to bring a large scoop into your mouth. Your mouth is cold from the ice cream you've been eating yet the sweetness of the chocolate and the decadence of the balls of cookie dough still make you moan with slight pleasure. It's a pleasure only ice cream can give you. It's a pleasure meant to replace the one you haven't been getting in days. It's meant to fill the ache in your heart. What were you thinking a year ago? You couldn't change him. You couldn't save him. Butcher is selfish, and arrogant, and terrible. You should break up with him and kick him to the curb! But do you want that? After all you've been through; late nights with someone listening to you about your day, someone there to enjoy your meals, someone to make your mind go blank when the world becomes too much. That's what Butcher became for you. A way to cope when things became heavier than you could lift by yourself. You wanted someone to share the burden with you. Maybe that's why your mind is telling you to leave, to never look back and find someone better. Yet, your heart is telling you to not give up, to work it out, to make it right so you both can be happy. That's tomorrow's problem. Right now, there's ice cream to eat, and someone just got cheated on on reality tv.

Chapter Seven: Gummy Bears

(@xx-per-veka-xx thank you for being the first to comment)

[ex160-blog1]

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream Pt.1

Your eyes were still red from last night. Your eyes were puffy, your nose was red from blowing into tissues, but it made a good conversation starter, because you can now rant about your selfish boyfriend. It's nice to let it all out like this. Friendly strangers make the best hype women in times of need, and you are in great need of giving Butcher a piece of your mind. Sure he's a bastard but it wouldn't kill him to show up for dinner! He didn't even come back all night; you were left alone in the apartment. You should do like one of your clients suggested and tie him up in the apartment. Lock his ass down! Enough about Butcher for a moment, because your next client just walked in, your favorite client: Popclaw. The B-Class supe walked in discreetly with her hoodie pulled up and large sunglasses covering most of her face. You're her preferred stylist as you treat her like a normal person that deserves genuine kindness. You couldn't care less about her past, and you've made it very clear that Popclaw can consider you a friend during her monthly trims. Popclaw saunters to your station with a smile as she takes off her sunglasses, "Heyyyy girl." you giggle and excitedly pat the seat for Popclaw, "Heyyy Queen! Ready for our session?" you turn the chair to have Popclaw face the mirror and gently tease her hair with your fingers, "We thinkin' of the usual trim today?" A sparkle in her eyes tells you that Popclaw has plans today, "Well, not exactly. See, I'm planning on going to a big event and I want something different." You gasp excitedly, hand over your heart, as you can only imagine what she wants done, "Oooohh! Tell me, girl! What're we thinking? What's the occasion? Spill everything." Popclaw pulls up her phone to show you an old picture of her hair during her modeling days, "I want the usual trim, but I wanna add some lowlights into my hair to create some depth, y'know? I wanna look good on tv." You study the image, her old hairstyle is still short but it has a gleam to it from the lowlights, "Okay, I see the vision. You are in good hands, queen." "I know." Popclaw reaffirms your statement with a wink. After washing Popclaw's hair, you're back at your chair trimming at her ends and finding any split ends, "Soooo, spill the tea. What's the occasion?" Popclaw can't help but blush at your question and it only serves to make you smile wider, "Well, my boyfriend and I are planning to go public with our relationship. We've been together for so many years and I finally convinced him to openly announce our status." This statement causes you to 'awwww' at the thought of Popclaw finally getting her wish. Although you may not know the identity of her boyfriend, you know for a fact it's another Supe. Resting your hands on her shoulders, you lean in and smile at her from the mirror, "Well, if that's what's going on, I'm gonna make you look extra gorgeous." this comment makes Popclaw smile gratefully with a hand on top of yours, "I trust you, girl."

Chapter Six: Cookie Dough Ice Cream Pt. 2

[ex160-blog1]

Sour Cherry Pie Pt. 2

Butcher left soon after finishing breakfast. He didn't make any promise to be on time for dinner, he didn't know when he'd be coming back that day. You wished him well, hoping he comes back safe, then he left you in the apartment alone. You had the whole day all to yourself. What do you do?

You put on the kettle to heat up. While that's going, the soft recliner calls your name and you slowly sink into the cloudlike cushions. A blanket is pulled over your lap, handmade by your parent before you moved to New York. Then, you flick the tv on and scroll through streaming services before landing on your current binge series: Game of Thrones. It hooked you when you watched the first few seasons and Khal Drogo was a hottie; as the story took hold, you became a full on fan. Now, the series started to decline after Season 6, but you were too in deep to quit now.

Looking back, you didn't think picking up a man from an alley next to your apartment building would lead to your current relationship. You should have called the police or ignored him entirely, but you weren't so cold as to leave a man laying there, let alone have some police officers treat him horribly. All you meant to do was to nurse him back to health, feed him a few meals, and send him on his way. That's what you're supposed to do; it was the sensible thing to do. It was probably the moment he smiled at you that you fell in love with Butcher. You've never pried into his past; he's never shared anything with you. On occassion, you would catch him watching some sort of video with a woman on it. The woman looked upset and Butcher looked sad just watching her? You did bring up who she was when you first saw it, but Butcher got this look on his face that told you to butt out. That was all you needed to drop the topic altogether.

Sometimes, you think Butcher is the best thing that's happened to you. So why does it feel like he's so far away? Like he's keeping you at an arms distance? Like you barely know anything about Billy Butcher? Your thoughts are interrupted by the screeching of the kettle. Maybe you were overthinking things, maybe you were just looking into too much. As you pour the hot water into your pink mug you think back to all the good Butcher has done for you; the happiness he's put into your life, the need for care, the affection he gives. But is that enough? It has to be. Right? You started dinner preparations promptly at noon. You were going all out tonight! Biscuits, steak, mashed potatoes, mixed veggies, all the good heart clogging stuff! Billy is a hardworking man lately, so this meal shows your appreciation for all he does. You even bought another six-pack from the convenience store to keep cool until he gets home. You're in the kitchen now, preparing the crust for your sweet cherry pie. Your apron has spots of flour and cherry juice on the white fabric, you have some flour on your cheek from wiping it, and your hands kneading the dough that will be the perfect crust for your perfect pie. All of your love is poured into every dish you make. Your heart is metaphorically served on each platter, because the only way to a mans heart is through their stomach. You take that as a personal challenge to feed Butcher delicious meals made by your own hands. You've laid out the crust, onto the pan, a perfect 12-inches in diameter and even thickness throughout. You're just about to pour in the filling when your phone rings. A tone you've set only for Butcher. Wiping your hands on a nearby towel, you pick up the phone and answer it eagerly with a smile, "Hi Billy! I'm just finishing up dessert, was there something you needed?" of course, she's made sure whatever he needed is most likely in the fridge. However, he's not going to call and ask for anything, he doesn't even ask how your day went, "Yeah, change of plans, sweetheart. The job's takin' a while and I'm not going to be back for a while." Thump, thump, thump. What was that you heard over the phone? "Butcher, is everything okay?" He hesitates as if he's distracted by something, "That is a problem." "Oh thank fuck he's alive!" That's not Butcher, "Billy, are you with someone? Where are you?" you hear a pained yelp before Butcher comes back on the phone, "Not to worry, sweetheart. Just car troubles, y'know how it is? Listen, you just stay home and keep the bed warm for when I get home, yeah?" "And when are you getting home, Billy?" there was no answer to that; just a long drawn out silence, "I'll get there when I get there." then the line goes dead. You stand there as your hand slowly puts your phone down on the counter, the homepage of you and Billy together dims as you turn off your phone. He did it again. He's leaving you alone, again. After what he did last night, he's doing it again? Again. Again. Again. Again! You slam the fridge door open and grab the bushel of lemons you were saving. You could've used these lemons for anything: lemonade, lemon meringue pie, lemon cheesecake, lemon pound cake, lemon bars, anything! Right now, you're using lemon after lemon to squeeze the juice out over the bowl of cherry filling; the filling you had spent painstaking amount of time to make being doused with your lemon wrath. Juices flow through fingers, poor lemons are squeezed dry of their extract and their dead fruity corpses tossed into the trash crying out as they wither away.

Another night alone, another night with broken expectations, of boundaries and needs not being met. The simple ask of coming home on time to enjoy a meal together has been stomped on. So as you sit at the dinner table, stuffing your mouth with food as tears stream down your cheeks and your sour cherry pie in the oven, you ask yourself: why? Why do it all? Why stay? Why let him be around you? Why let him break your heart? You swallow down the large chunk of steak. You haven't the faintest clue why. You just do it because you feel like you have to. Is that enough?

Chapter Five: Cookie Dough Ice Cream Pt. 1

[ex160-blog1]

Sour Cherry Pie Pt.1

The Following Day Your phone vibrates quietly on the nightstand and your hand comes down to grab it. It's six in the morning, you've only gotten an hour or two at most of sleep. Your eyes are heavy, your vision is blurry, and your body feels like a giant stone. So, you text the owner that you're sick and won't make it into work today. They can't tell you're lying. What're they gonna do, come to your house and take your temperature? Besides, it wouldn't hurt to miss a day. After sending off the message, you set your phone back down. An arm wraps around your waist while scraggly hairs rub against your neck. Billy sighs into your ear from behind, still asleep, but still seeking your warmth. It's good, it's great actually. It puts a smile on your face as you shut your eyes and fall back asleep. You wake up again when the passing sirens from the street below. The room is filled with bare lighting from the minimal sunlight you get, the AC is humming throughout the room, but the body next to you and the comforter surrounding you both make it hard to get out of bed. If time allowed, you'd sink into this warmth forever, like a never ending dream. Still, you quietly remove the muscley arm from around your waist and the warm comforter to rise from the bed. With a yawn, you slip on your pink cat slippers and pad your way to the bathroom. The routine is the same, even after waking up late: brush teeth, wash face, shower, dry hair and style, skincare routine, put on makeup, take hair out of rollers, pump yourself up for a good day, and put on a dress. Yes, so normal, so consistent, a perfect start to the day. By this point, Butcher is still asleep. He did come home a little hammered and you aren't keen to wake him up before breakfast is ready. Quietly making your way to the kitchen, you can't help but play back the memories of how you assumed the role of caregiver in his life. It was the first time you went to his apartment. You were horrified to find how he was living. A studio apartment with an air mattress on the floor, a singular plastic chair with plastic table, an empty dog kennel, and one hot pocket in the freezer. Were you appalled? Yes. Were you sad? Yes. Did you immediately insist Butcher move into your apartment even though your space was small and you had your own job but God forbid you let your boyfriend live like this while you were around? Absolutely. He wasn't entirely opposed to the idea, not after you gave him a beer and wouldn't stop crying about his living conditions. Besides, having a girl dote on him, make his food, do his laundry, and love him 24/7 didn't sound so bad in the short-term. Beats how he was living his life before; even if he is mooching off of you. Blinking back to the present, you look down at the breakfast you just prepared: perfect golden pancakes topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a strawberry, with orange juice and a bowl of cut up melons on the side. Perfectly healthy with your signature sweetness. That was all that was needed to coax Butcher into the kitchen. An arm around your waist startles you till his voice is at your right ear, "Easy, sweetheart. Just me, didn't mean ta frighten ya." his chuckle makes your stomach do flips and he can definitely see your ears turning red. Billy gives your waist a squeeze while he presses his nose against your hair, breathing you in like you're the most beautiful flower. The sigh, oh the sigh, that he lets out when your scent fills his head is, in his words, "Fuckin' diabolical. I don't know what smells better: you or the breakfast." That compliment makes you duck your head with a giggle, gently taking his arm away only to hold his hand, "Hey! Cut it out, you did plenty of schmoozing last night over the cream soda." his hand escapes yours to find your hips and turn you around. Now you're facing him, and he has that smirk on his face that tells you he might do more than just talk, "And who says I can't give my girl more compliments, aye? What, after the spread you put out this mornin' I'm supposed to not notice? Nah, never, sweetheart."

Billy leans down so his lips meet yours, and you let out a soft moan from the contact. All of your thoughts, all of your aches and pains, slip away into nothing as your eyes flutter close. You can feel your back against the kitchen counter while he presses his bare torso against you. His arms strongly hold you there so you don't melt away while he has you. One hand rises to tangle into your hair, gripping the locks at their base, while his other hand reaches to cup the swell of your ass. His grip are painful enough that it feels good; makes you feel his control. Butcher's lips move against yours, dry lips meeting gloss. You part once, then twice, then a third time, until he's kissing you so deep it's like he's trying to eat you alive. You gladly open your mouth for his tongue when it asks for entrance and the moan you let out when his appendage explores your mouth has him rocking his hips against yours. He leaves nothing untouched, dragging his tongue on your teeth, the walls, and your own tongue to make it dance with his. You can barely breathe, and that's a good thing. Pulling away, Billy has to hold you up before you lose your fitting while taking in a deep breath. Your mouth and chin are wet from drool while your hands grip onto his shoulders, digging the acrylics into his flesh; you look to him with hazy eyes and you register that his mouth is moving, "You still with me? Cmon, focus those pretty peepers on me." when you meet his eyes, he smirks again, "There you are, sweetheart. Much as I'd like to have you for breakfast, there's somethin I gotta do later. So I'll have to eat and run." his hand touches your face with his thumb teasing your kiss swollen bottom lip, "You ain't gonna miss me too much, aye?" you gently shake your head, not wanting to make him upset, and that keeps the smirk on his face, "Good girl."

Chapter Four: Sour Cherry Pie Pt. 2