my internally racist, whitewashed, alcoholic aunt who doesn’t visit us despite living a 20 minute drive away dropped in by surprise bc my grandparents invited her over to our house when they live in somewhere else and she’s already been scratched by my cat and made racist comments to our own country and made everything about her. all i’m trying to do is watch the football game in 30 mins but she’s blocking my view of the tv and speaking over everyone else
i got into an argument with her about how the world cup is in fact racist and corrupt and they don't want to see anyone win but the usual 3 teams and i fucking silenced her (i guess it helped that my dad was on my side but whatever)
my internally racist, whitewashed, alcoholic aunt who doesn’t visit us despite living a 20 minute drive away dropped in by surprise bc my grandparents invited her over to our house when they live in somewhere else and she’s already been scratched by my cat and made racist comments to our own country and made everything about her. all i’m trying to do is watch the football game in 30 mins but she’s blocking my view of the tv and speaking over everyone else
summary: your period is late and whilst you can do nothing but panic about the potential child growing inside you, sodapop gets you a doctor's appointment, ensuring nobody finds out until you get a solid answer.
wc: 1.3k+
One of Sodapop’s hands tightly clasps yours, the other one gripping the phone close to his ear. You’re standing in the middle of the road, his car parked behind both of you as you huddle together in the phone booth. Despite wanting to hear the conversation between your boyfriend and the person on the other end of the line, your wet sniffles are too loud for you to tune in, tears blurring your vision. You don’t know what you would’ve done without Sodapop, who somehow stayed calm and kept a clear mind as he mapped out your next steps, all whilst soothing your worries.
“Hey honey, that doesn’t mean anything is certain, okay?” He had murmured with his lips against your temple at the confession that your period had been weeks late, his arms holding you tight whilst you sobbed into his chest. He let you get the brunt of your tears out before suggesting to book a doctor’s appointment, and when you had harshly wiped your face dry, you nodded, letting Sodapop guide you to his car. You had been confused at first, fully expecting him to just pick up the phone from the living room, but Sodapop squeezed your hand, mumbling that it would be best to go to a phone booth, where Darry wouldn’t have access to the last call Sodapop had made.
You started crying again the second Sodapop began dialing the hospital’s number.
He doesn’t sound so confident when he offers the receptionist your full name followed by his, and you can almost hear the way she asks “How are you related to the patient, Mr. Curtis?” Sodapop ducks his head down, tugging you close to him as he says “She’s my girlfriend.” The receptionist asks a few more questions — if Sodapop will be attending the appointment, who to call to confirm the appointment, and which payment method will be used. She finally drops the purely professional tone towards the end of the call, offering Sodapop a soothing “Don’t worry Mr. Curtis, you and your girlfriend are in good hands. We’ll be sure to provide you both with the utmost care during your visit.”
The line cuts and Sodapop returns the phone to its place, turning to you with sympathy flooding his eyes. Opening his arms for you, he accepts the hug you fall into, still overthinking everything.
The appointment goes by quickly, but the following days in which you had to wait for the results were treacherously slow. You don’t think you’ve ever spent so much time with your boyfriend in your life before this, but are nonetheless grateful for his company, seeing as though you probably wouldn’t survive a day without him in such a situation. But despite this, you’re not with Sodapop when the hospital calls the Curtis household, because he so happens to be at work. However, another Curtis is home for the day.
Darry reaches a hand back to pick up the phone from where he’s sat on the couch, though despite his laid back demeanour thanks to his day off, he immediately straightens up at the sound of a woman saying into the phone “Hi this is Andrea speaking from Tulsa East Hospital, I’m looking for a Sodapop Curtis?”
“East Hospital?” Darry echoes loudly, and the woman repeats “Is this Sodapop Curtis?”
“I’m his older brother, why was he at the hospital?” Darry is already leaning forward to bring his shoes closer to him. He secures the phone between his ear and shoulder as he puts them on, jaw clenching when the lady replies “I’m not at liberty to say, could you pass along a message that we called?”
Darry hangs up the phone. It was his day off for for christ’s sake - why couldn’t one thing go right for him? He stands, finding his keys on the coffee table before leaving the house. Sodapop has some explaining to do, Darry thinks, reversing the car onto the street and pulling off into the direction to the gas station. When he gets there, Darry watches his younger brother work for a little while, seeing if there’s anything visibly wrong with him. Why would he sneak off to a hospital without telling him? He jumps out of the car, the door’s loud slam attracting Soda’s attention. At first, the younger brother seems happy about Darry’s presence, but at the look on Darry’s face, his wide grin immediately falls from his face.
“Why did I just get a call from the Hospital asking for you?”
Darry watched in real time as Sodapop’s eyes go wide, his hands coming up as he whispers “I need to make a call.” Darry yanks Sodapop towards him before he can even run off, and Sodapop immediately blurts out “Test results. For - pregnancy.” Sodapop’s face contorts into a judgmental cringe towards himself, and Darry immediately deflates. “Sodapop.” He breathes out, and the boy swallows thickly as he smoothes his hands down his front, mumbling “She’s late, and she was scared and so I took her to the hospital to get checked out. The results should be out.”
“What will you do if it’s positive?” Darry asks, carefully watching Sodapop’s features. He splutters, shrugging as his hands wildly gesture around. “We can’t - she doesn’t want a baby now! We’re young, and we can’t afford it, and we’re not even married yet and-“
“That’s the smart choice,” Darry soothes, “Getting rid of it.” Sodapop furrows his eyebrows at his older brother’a choice of words. Darry rubs both hands on his face, nodding his head towards his truck and muttering “Come on, you’re in no position to drive.”
Sodapop jumps into Darry’s truck, chewing at his bottom lip. He spends the entire drive to yours staring at his feet in refusal to speak to his brother, predicting how angry he must be. So the second the car comes to a stop, Sodapop is running to your front door. You open the door almost immediately, face softening at the sight of your boyfriend. “Results are ready.” He whispers, catching you as you fall into his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Darry’s here too.” He mumbles, and you jolt back from Sodapop’s touch, gaze flying past him to catch his brother’s gaze. Darry stands in front of his car, arms crossed over his chest. You take a couple of steps towards him, eyes filling with tears as you ask “Are you really disappointed?”
Darry sighs, uncrossing his arms with a shake of his head. “No, you’re just kids, I’m not disappointed.” Darry swallows thickly when a tear slips from your eyes, and he brings both hands up to your biceps before pulling you in for a hug.
“Come on, let’s get you those results.” He mumbles, patting your back. Sodapop guides you into the passenger seat, hopping into the back for the duration of the short drive. You let Sodapop do the talking for you once you get to the Hospital, leaning on the counter to speak to the receptionist. She opens a drawer and goes through some files before picking up a phone and dialling a few numbers.
“Doctor Humphrey is available now to explain your results if you want to head to his office.” The hallway feels like the runway of shame, and despite the fact that you could be a patient for any reason, you feel as though everyone can tell exactly why you’re here. Doctor Humphrey greets you with a wide smile, holding your file up and announcing “Good news!”
Darry stands by the door to the office, watching with crossed arms as Sodapop presses his back to your chest, hands clutching your biceps hopefully. “You can begin celebrating, you’re not pregnant.” You melt into Sodapop’s arms in relief, and he presses a kiss to your forehead, mumbling “Okay, ice cream on me.”
“There are a few reasons why you could be late but-“
“That’s alright Doctor Humphrey, as long as I’m not dying, we’re going out for ice cream.”
Doctor Humphrey pauses, then gestures a hand towards the door with a soft smile. “Alright, enjoy that ice cream.”
why must female led superhero movies be exceptional. why can't they just be good. like legit i'm sick of it. supergirl is fun and good i enjoyed it and that's all you fuckers are getting out of me. go see it.
thought i missed my ex in the 'lonely and horny' way but turns out it may unfortunately be the 'i'm still very much in love' way. not looking good for me
if ur my follower and u engage with my posts often rest assured ur username and icon combo is in my mind and I see it and go oh yeah I know that guy yay
pt.4 of when does it become cheating pt i pt ii pt iii
summary: when nancy's fancy birthday dinner that jonathan claimed was impossible to reserve is crashed by you and Steve's spontaneous date night, an argument between them breaks out. somehow, you and steve manage to crash that too.
wc: 1.3k+
“Ooh, when you said we should go out tonight I wasn’t expecting something so fancy.”
Nancy freezes at the sound of a familiar voice, fork stilling in her hand, but Jonathan only immobilises when Steve chuckles at your words, his sounds happy and secure. “Hey, all I had to do was make one phone call to get us a table. And - you know - why shouldn’t a normal night be a special one?”
Jonathan clenches his teeth so hard, he feels an immediate ache in his jaw. He had been on the waitlist of this restaurant for a month, there’s no way Steve made the reservation this morning. Jonathan glances up at Nancy, noticing her unhappy expression. He immediately knows what she’s thinking; why does her special birthday dinner have to be the equivalent of your spontaneous Wednesday night? More importantly though, why can’t Jonathan meet Steve’s standards, and why couldn’t Steve act like this when she was dating him?
Nancy and Jonathan’s eyes follow you and Steve, watching with resentment as the maitre d’ guides you and Steve to an empty table in the corner of the room with a gold nameplate with the word ‘reserved’ engraved into it. Of course, the table is next to the window so you and Steve can enjoy a nice view alongside your meal. As Steve pulls out your chair, Nancy glances over towards Jonathan. The waiter had pulled out her chair for her instead of her own boyfriend. She huffs, turning to look at her plate, poking at her food with her fork.
“Come on Nance,” Pleads Jonathan, “This is a nice place, can we just enjoy ourselves?” A loud laugh answers the question for him, and he watches as Nancy slowly lifts her head to stare at you again, jealousy pooling in her irises as you laugh along to something Steve says, reaching across the table to place a hand on his bicep. Clearly, Jonathan thinks, neither of them are going to have a good time as long as you and Steve are here. It doesn’t help either that the waiting staff are giving you so much attention, or that the two of you are so happy that you haven’t even noticed the sulking couple sat only a few tables from you.
Jonathan is convinced that if he turns around to look at you both one more time, you’re sure to catch him and laugh in his face, but he can’t help it when he can so easily see the way Nancy’s eyes flit over to you every few seconds. He calls her name once, but when Nancy turns her eyes to him, they’re full of anger. Jonathan doesn’t know what he did to deserve that glare, it’s not like he planned your and Steve’s arrival. He risks a glance back and immediately feels his heart sink. Why on earth do you look happier with Steve than you’ve ever looked with him? Your smile reaches the stars that live in your eyes but never shone around Jonathan, and the melody of your laugh plays only when Steve’s words act as your guitar.
Everything is obviously just great.
First, he and Nancy had to spend weeks convinced that you and Steve were prancing around together just days after the breakups you had been so angry at them for, only to find out a little too late that you had never dated in the first place. Until that very moment, of course. Then, they found out that the kids had been coming to you with trips they had always spoken about but never brought up to Jonathan or Nancy due to their constant rejections. Of course, being the token friend parents of all kids brought you all undeniably closer together, and now you’re their favourite, and also a happy couple.
A couple whose spontaneous date night is occurring at the same location of Nancy’s special birthday dinner that Jonathan kept insisting was near impossible to book.
“How can they just be so happy?” Nancy questions with an envious gesture. She can’t believe she had to ask her mom to go out with her boyfriend when you’ve probably been unofficially living with Steve for weeks now. She risks another glance at you, rolling her eyes when she catches sight of your foot grazing against Steve’s leg underneath the table. “We should just go.” She decides, wiping her mouth with her napkin before placing it on the table and standing up.
Her chair screeches loudly as she pushes it back, interrupting the romantic jazz playing in the restaurant. Of course, it catches the attention of a certain couple on the other side of the room, and Nancy nods her head at Jonathan for him to get up. “Let me pay the bill, you can go turn on the car for now.”
Curious eyes follow Nancy as she leaves the restaurant, and you smile to yourself as you bite into another mouthful of food. In front of you, Steve smirks at your expression, raising a single eyebrow up at you. “Don’t be cruel.” You tell him, and Steve chuckles as he chews on his tender steak.
“Imagine being so caught up in someone’s presence yet not noticing them waving at you from across the room.” Steve thinks aloud, glancing back at Jonathan and Nancy’s now empty table. He scoffs to himself in amusement, reaching forward again to grab your hand again. He lifts it up, pressing his lips to your knuckles despite the butteriness of his lips, and he smiles when you giggle quietly, tilting your head to the side. “So Hopper asked me to look after El tomorrow because she’s been in a mood lately, so I don’t think I’ll be able to see you after your shift.”
Steve frowns, a wrinkle forming across his forehead as he thinks it through. He may or may not have formed slight attachment issues to you over the past couple of months, but he doesn’t find it all problematic yet. “Or how about I come join you guys when I’m done? I can bring pizza, she’ll enjoy the extra company?” You wiggle your hand out of Steve’s so you can bring a hand up to his face, caressing his cheek softly. “Okay, that sounds good.” Steve grins, blowing you a sweet kiss, and the two of you silently return to your food.
When dinner is paid for, Steve guides you out of the restaurant with his hands on your waist, following close behind you. The two of you stand in the chilly weather as the valet fetches Steve’s car, and he makes the most of it by holding you closely, your back to his chest as the wind blows past you. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you giggle loudly, turning around to face him so he can press a kiss to your lips. Steve’s car arrives not long later, and you quickly hop in to the passenger’s seat, letting him drive off. Unluckily for you, the parking lot is giant and confusing, and you and Steve spend ten minutes trying to weave your way out of the parking. However, on the way out, the car’s headlights light up two people stood between two cars, almost completely hidden from sight. They’re clearly arguing, movements wild as they gesture at each other, their voices loud.
Steve slows down as he approaches them, rolling his window down despite your protests. He puts a hand on your thigh, patting you twice as a little signal to trust him. You shrug as he calls out “Sorry to bother, do you guys know how we can find the exit?” The man steps out from in front the woman, unobstructing both your views from Nancy as he turns around, revealing to you who he is. Both you and Steve go silent when you realise who you’re standing in front of, and Steve holds a hand up in apology before slowly retreating his hand into the car to begin rolling his window back up as he drives away.
Your boyfriend hears the sharp inhale you take to stop yourself from laughing, and he squeezes your thigh, repeating your own words back to you. “Don’t be cruel.”
I thought a Lebanese would be rooting for France not Paraguay
i don’t support countries that colonised mine
this world cup i am standing with all the nations that aren’t known for their strong football team, because i believe that most countries’s teams have been popularised not due to their talent and strength, but because of the influence of the west and their belief that european countries are superior
also, i grew up with french people because i was in a french-lebanese school, and that didn’t do anything to improve my stance on them
summary: there's something about a snobby slytherin princess that sirius black cannot resist. so when you get into an argument with rabastan lestrange and let it slip that sirius black would have a better chance at marrying you, the boy springs into action.
wc: 0.8k
cw: public argument, pureblood stuff
Behind the perfect poise and manners all of the sacred 28 had been taught lay a beast of impatience and sass, every pureblood child being pushed to their limits. The marauders hadn’t been expecting to watch a showdown between two pureblooded slytherins on their way to the great hall for lunch, the silence between them a tell-tale of how double potions had gone. But their boredom had been noticed by some higher power, and by some miracle, they ended up two mere meters from you as you strode away from the great hall, a very obviously panicked Lestrange following behind you.
He was calling after you, breaking into a run to catch up with your pace as he pleaded “Don't be so stubborn! Can we please just talk!?” All air was sucked out of the hallway as you came to an abrupt halt, right next to the three boys and Lily, spinning around to face Rabastan.
“You want to talk? Okay, talk!”
Rabastan spluttered, at a loss for words. You scoffed, “Or do you just want me to talk so you can figure out what you did wrong and apologise for it?” Sirius made an impressed sound, but Rabastan was so busy trying to climb out of the grave he dug himself that he didn’t even notice. But it was hopeless; he had crossed the line and had veered into the dangerous terrain of your honest opinions.
“Rabastan, I am not marrying you. Go cry to daddy about it. He’ll have another wife lined up for you by tomorrow night.”
If the marauders weren’t already frozen with shock, they would be now. They had matching expressions on their faces, jaws slack, eyes wide. Sirius, as much as he loved listening to pureblood drama, had no idea about your engagement. Or, your arrangement, should he say.
“But I don’t want another wife, I want you.” It was a desperate attempt, but Rabastan trusted his acting skills. Rabastan’s father would kill him if he knew his son’s behaviour drove the perfect suitor away. Luckily for you, you saw right through him.
You doubled over, a loud laugh escape you, eyes still filled with rage. “No, you don’t! Oh my god! I’d have chosen your brother if I knew how disgusting you were!” Rabastan stumbled back from the force of your words, as though you had struck him. His brother? He didn’t know you or your parents had been given options. He thought his parents had decided to guide you towards the better Lestrange brother — him. He didn’t know that his parents wanted you to marry either one of them.
Shit, he really messed up.
Rabastan stepped closer to you, eyes pleading. He didn’t care how much more he humiliated himself in front of his rivals, he just had to avoid humiliating himself in front of his father. “Just give me one chance, just one.” Your eyes followed the movement of his hand, reaching out to hold yours. Laughing uncomfortably, you reached down with your free hand to remove Rabastan’s hold from you.
“You already had one chance. What, did you think this engagement was actually secured?”
Tilting your head to the side, you held Rabastan’s eye contact, as though challenging him to say another word to you. When he said nothing, you nodded, adding as the final straw “Even Black stands a better chance at this point.”
Rabastan laughed coldly, his innocent front now forgotten as he said “Yeah, Regulus two years younger stands a better chance. Sure.” You smiled sweetly at Rabastan, shaking your head. “No, Rab. Not Regulus.”
You heard Rabastan’s breath hitch in an embarrassing gasp as you spun around on your heels and continued down the hall — but not without catching Sirius Black’s eye first. He was fixing his posture, rolling his shoulders back and clearing his throat. He felt his cheeks go hot at your comment, head turning to follow your disappearing figure.
“Shit, there’s just something I love about a snobby slytherin princess.” His friends’ heads shot towards him, Lily’s face shocked whereas Remus and James both held amused smirks. But just as he stepped aside to follow you down the hallway, two more women made their presences known.
Rabastan turned to face Narcissa and Pandora, throwing his head back as he said “I messed up so bad.” The two women didn’t spare him another glance as they strutted past him. “Yes, you did Lestrange.” Narcissa called out, quickly followed by Pandora’s comment of “And daddy won’t get you a new wife with that attitude!”
“Cissy, you think I can bag her?” Yelled Sirius to his cousin, who very briefly turned her attention to him, shrugging her shoulders. “You know she does quite like a rebel.”
And then, “Not a disrespectful scumbag, Rabastan.”
i fear this blog is going to be including less golden trio era content. i know a lot of people are here for the golden trio content, and this doesn't mean that the golden trio fics will stop coming, but there will likely be a significant change in how much i invlove myself with that era. i just feel that as i am getting older, i don't find myself attracted to any characters who i was only exposed to as school kids because in my head they're genuinely children now. it's the same as picturing myself liking someone in their senior year of school - it just feels wrong. since i'm in university now, i find it really difficult to imagine these characters as grown ups especially since we've been exposed to them as children too, and with my life genuinely changing so drastically in three months, i see myself writing more for characters i can actually visualise as adults. this is also partly due to the fact that i have been surrounded by so much drama and immaturity - i want to be able to focus on more mature and grown characters.
as for the characters i'll write for who aren't on the list below, i'm probably going to write for the weasley twins and their older brothers, for the grown marauders like the remus lupin/james potter fics i've written where they're professors or married couples. i'll potentially write for any of the other golden trio characters in au's where i can really explicitly picture them as adults. this probably includes draco and mattheo riddle since there are more adult themes i can picture writing with them
i do understand if this throws people off my blog because i'm not going to lie and say there will be just as much golden trio content coming out - there won't. but i would really appreciate it if you stayed around for the writing and for the vibes! i am trying to explore new fandoms to write for and am more than willing to take recommendations!
characters i want to write more for in 2026:
-clark kent
-steve harrington
-patrick zweig
-darry curtis
-sodapop curtis
-peter parker (esp tasm!)
-bucky barnes
-james potter
-remus lupin
-marlene mckinnon
i wanted to give a little update with this post from the end of 2025 because the most requests i'm getting are for golden trio characters. unfortunately (for the golden trio fans on here), i am writing less and less for the golden trio, and i do see that potentially coming to a full stop soon. i've posted a few harry fics here and there this year, but i genuinely don't see myself writing more for anyone in the golden trio in the future apart from maybe the older weasley siblings(?)
i think i've just finally moved on from that chapter and am welcoming growth in my journey as a writer, and honestly just want to push myself away from anything jk rowling related because i'm so disgusted with her and her actions. that being said, i've recently been writing a little more for the marauders and have been enjoying that i can make what i want of them without keeping in mind her creations. but as most of you have probably noticed, my writing has really delved into new fandoms, and i do still want to explore new fandoms to write for.
i know the communities for some of these fandoms like the outsiders, challengers and even brooklyn 99 are a lot smaller, and i don't even really want to necessarily commit to a single fandom, and i do love my little community on this side of the internet and cherish you all, but i still want my writing to be my writing without feeling pressured over which fandoms to write for. like i just sort of want to write for whoever i want whenever i want, and if it means i don't write for the same character twice within two months, then fine, i just want to have more freedom with my writing.
and full disclosure, part of the reason i haven't fully been writing what i want is because i've kind of built an unhealthy attachment to the numbers that come with writing fics. like i have a standard for myself in my head and i get disappointed if my fics get below a certain amount of notes, and i also don't want to lose followers from the golden trio days, but i am learning to let that go because i don't want to have an unhealthy relationship with my blog because i care more about how many likes a fic gets than if i'm actually writing what i want. it's almost as though i need to remind myself that i started this blog because i fucking love writing so much, and that i should continue to run it because i love writing and i should keep writing what i love, not what i think people want from me.
but yeah, this is my little halfway through 2026 message, i'll be more than happy if you stay along for the ride and explore new characters with me, and also if you just stay patient with me as life gets more real in my realm of student life/career ambitions. so yeah. thanks for reading if you did!
Kara knows how this looks. Clothes strewn from the hallway to the foot of her bed, Krypto snoring from the living room instead of his usual place in her bed, and, most damning of all, the girl beside her, sleeping peacefully on her stomach with an arm draped over Kara’s waist.
Kara gently extracts herself from the bed and trips across the floor, pulling on a random pair of jeans before stumbling into the hallway with Clark, closing the door behind her.
“It’s not what you think,” Kara says.
“And what do I think?” Clark whispers back, eyes wide.
“You tell me!” Kara defends. She can’t come up with something at all reasonable to say without exposing herself and subsequently, the lie she’s been telling Clark. A secret most of the time, dipping into dishonesty on some of the nights he asks to see her and she’s brushed off with a lame excuse.
Giving Krypto a bath. Cleaning the apartment. Wanting to turn in early.
“It looks like you got drunk and hooked up on a planet with a yellow sun! Fully powered, Kara!” Clark admonishes. And yes, okay. From his perspective this is all entirely reasonable and completely appropriate to be worried about. But Kara has just been pulled from her bed at eight in the morning after a very late night, and she can think of nothing else besides climbing back onto the mattress besides you.
“You and Lois—”
“Lois knows!”
“And—that’s—whatever!” Kara flings her arms up and sighs. “Look, Clark, I appreciate the concern. But really, it’s not necessary. Everything is fine.”
“Kara, I know you’re used to doing these things off-planet,” Clark tries. He sets his hands on her biceps, gripping softly. “But here on Earth…things are different. People talk. Superpowered beings are—”
“Kara?” The bedroom door creaks and you step out, wearing only Kara’s Blondie t-shirt. Just seeing you makes her blood pressure drop.
“Hi, baby,” she murmurs, pulling away from Clark and moving towards you. “You sleep okay?”
She cups your cheek in one hand, smiling softly as you lean into the touch.
“Mhm. You run so hot, the bed’s cold without you.”
“I’ll be right back, promise.” She leans down and kisses your forehead, letting her lips press longer than necessary. You hum happily.
“Don’t be too long. You can kick Clark out, right?”
Kara snorts and rests her chin against your head. “For you, yes. If you need incentive to be patient, I can offer a reward.”
“You’d give it to me no matter what,” you tease.
“Go wait,” Kara says, shooing you back into her room. “I’ll kick him out.”
When the door closes, she takes a moment to rest against it. Deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. It’s just Clark. She can do this. She’s fought literal monsters. This is nothing.
(But truthfully—monsters are the easy part. A direct, violent target that needs to be taken down. Heartfelt talks are harder, tangled, always a mess. There’s no defeating the enemy hurting you, there is only the hitching breaths in the silence and the burn of unwanted tears.)
Kara turns around, and is surprised to find Clark watching. He looks—odd. Off. Face softened with slow understanding.
“She knows,” he says softly. “Doesn’t she?”
Kara exhales noisily. “Yeah. She knows.”
“How much?”
“I…” Kara looks around uselessly. How does she even begin to describe it all? The gentle tugging of your love on her soul. Giggles and sloppy kisses on the way home from a bar she can barely get tipsy at. Your hands combing through her hair as she whispers about Krypton, lips brushing your chest.
I love you whispered for the first time by you, in Kryptonian, pressed against Kara’s ear.
“She knows everything,” Kara says.
“You love her?”
And he’s—Clark’s looking at her like he knows. Something in Kara’s chest twinges. Months, she’s been hiding this from him. It was ‘just friends’ in the beginning, Kara unstable and volatile and off-center. She didn’t know she could love like this. That she could have someone to come home to every day, to smile at her or hold her and tell her that everything would be okay.
She was so unsure that she’d be able to keep it. That something wouldn’t drive you away. Kara doesn’t have people. She has herself, Clark. And now: you. And you’ve shown that you’re staying. That you want to be here.
“More than anything,” Kara replies. Her eyes sting.
Clark leaves soon after, and Kara comes back into her bedroom, Krypto darting past her to throw himself onto the bed with you.
“Oh, hi,” you coo as Krypto throws himself wildly back and forth across the bed. “C’mere. You missed us, huh?”
Kara collapses onto the mattress beside you. “Hey, what about me?”
You laugh and reach out a hand to stroke Kara’s hair. “Are you feeling neglected?”
“Yes,” Kara moans. She rolls over on top of you, resting her head on your chest. “Give me attention.”
You lean down and kiss the top of her head. “Anything for you.”
notes i'm so in love with kara omg. i need everyone to get more supergirl pilled rn
summary: after witnessing an interesting exchange, sirius can't help but seek you out for a conversation.
wc: 1.7k+
cw: gender imbalance, pureblood lifestyle, suggestive ish, is this kind of angsty?
When Sirius Black interrupts your letter writing by the black lake, the first thing you feel is surprise that he hasn’t shown up earlier. You smile amusedly to yourself, turning your letter face down onto the grass next to you and capping your inc bottle so you can turn to face the awaiting boy. Of course, his expression is smug and he’s smirking to himself, but you meet his eyes with equal amusement. “Here to entertain me?” You ask, leaning back onto a single hand.
“Don’t all women love a man who can make them laugh?” He retorts as response, running a hand through his hair. He shows you his teeth when he smiles, posing perfectly for you as he awaits a response from you. “I’m not sure if you were listening to that conversation you eavesdropped on the other day-” Sirius raises his eyebrows but lets you proceed without mentioning the fact that you were in public in when the conversation occurred. “-but I want a man who isn’t entirely a scumbag, not one who can make me laugh.”
Sirius groans in mock disappointment, beginning to push himself off the grass with a huff of “I should go then.”
“Stay.” Sirius slumps back onto the grass the instant he hears your voice, but he would have done so either way, so he’s a little surprised you’ve said anything at all. His smile drops when you pick up your letter again, so he resorts to forcing your attention onto him. He snatches the parchment out of your hands, and all you do is sigh as he noses around, scanning through the letter to your parents. He’s a little taken aback when he reads some details about the Lestrange whose behaviour caused a missed opportunity with you. “I’m a little surprised, actually,” Sirius begins, putting the letter down “that you would turn a Lestrange down for the way he acts but would give me a chance.”
Sirius expects an instant rejection that he will obviously ignore. Little miss perfect will of course be disgusted to actually imagine herself with the disgraceful Black brother, and he will have to make her laugh, flirt a little and then serenade her. Instead, he’s met with the tilt of a head and a playful single shoulder shrug. “I don’t know. I could fix you, I think.”
“Fix me? What, make me the perfect pureblooded business man?” You grin, leaning forward and hooking a finger in the chain of Sirius’s necklace and pulling it out from underneath his uniform. You trace the engraved metal and the purple gem in its middle — the family heirloom that he hides underneath his clothes yet wears everyday. “Something like that.” You mumble, glancing up to meet his eyes. Sirius plucks the heirloom back, stuffing it beneath his shirt once more. “Or maybe I can convert you?” Sirius suggests, purposefully reaching out to stick up the end of your collar. He stares at you for a long moment, but you keep his gaze, refusing to be the first one to break eye-contact. Finally, with your eyes still on him, you bring both hands up to smooth down your collar, and Sirius mumbles “There it is. How about I turn your perfectly composed manners into something with a little more attitude? Ruin that pureblood pleasing mindset and make you a little rebellious?”
“You don’t think it’ll be rebellious enough to bring you home to my parents?” Sirius scoffs with a playful eye roll, but you hold your index finger up to silence him, continuing “Imagine the ruckus in the pureblooded community when someone of my status turns down a Lestrange for the disowned Black brother? Bring you back to the family for the wedding, pretend everything is perfect, then we both disappear off the face of the planet to supposedly fulfil our parents’ wishes?” Sirius is intrigued. Of course, he will never return back home to his parents unless to prove a point. Could you be the point he makes? But that’s not the first thing he thinks of. He immediately wonders why you’re so eager to disappear from your parents’ lives the second you get married, which will inevitably be within a few months of graduating.
Sirius takes a long look at you, taking in your face to try and read you. Despite how playful you have been with him the entire time, your expression is now unreadable. The pureblood life, especially as a woman, is torturous. Sitting around being perfect whilst your family decides your fate until it is handed to another man. Sirius can imagine you’re tired of it, being forced to meet man after man as a potential suitor, and when your parents have finally made a decision on a potential husband from the pool of suitors, the disappointment from Rabastan must have been your last straw.
“Done with them?” He asks, voice dropping into complete seriousness, sympathy pooling in his eyes. You nod softly, glancing down to the grass as you pull at stubborn green strands of nature. “So done with them.” You mutter, barely enunciating so Sirius can barely make out your words. He’s taken aback by that — muttering around pureblooded parents would have received you a silencing hex for an entire week so they wind up sure that the next time you speak, it’ll be done with poise and elegance.
“And you’re not joking?” Sirius asks, returning to the topic of conversation. You sigh, wiping your hands off from the dirt and grabbing your bag so you can settle it onto your lap. You place your letter and bottle of ink into your bag, and genuinely say “No, I don’t think so. But it’s alright. When they marry me off, it’ll be to a man who doesn’t care what I do as long as I make the right appearances.”
“And give him children.” Sirius adds, but he shuts his mouth at the immediate shake of your head. “Not happening, thank you.”
Even though Sirius wants to ask you dozens of more questions, he forces himself to change the topic of conversation and to lift your spirits. He resorts to flirting again. “Hey if it makes you feel better, the one thing you don’t have to change is your looks. The personality — scrap it! But you are one beautiful woman.” Sirius catches the way your cheeks shyly flex in a flattered smile, but you force yourself to raise your eyebrows in an unimpressed manner, clarifying “Scrap the entire personality? Damn it, I’ve spent years working on that one.”
“See, cursing is already an improvement. Just fix the rest of it, then we can get married.”
You put on an apologetic expression, and reach forward to place a hand over Sirius’s. “I’m sorry Black, I’ve spent years being chased by men without having to change a single thing about myself. That’s not changing now.” You have Sirius fooled with your acting, and it’s only when the amusement returns to your eyes that Sirius scoffs, licking his lips, a small smile existing on his lips against his will. “Fine. I suppose I’ll tear myself down and become a new man for you.”
You straighten up, your face morphing into an offended expression as you gasp lightly, snapping “I am asking of you nothing of the sort. You need to start believing you’re perfect just the way you are and the people who are perfect for you will suddenly appear in your life.”
Sirius is stunned into silence, and for a long, long moment, he doesn’t make a single sound. Then suddenly “Have you been lying to me about your identity?”
“Excuse me?”
Sirius shuffles closer to you on the grass, snatching your hand with the heirloom ring on your finger. He nudges it with his finger, asking “Is this real?” You splutter, unsure of Sirius’s intentions. “Yeah, it’s real.” You promise, and Sirius frowns. “How can such wise and loving words come from a pureblooded woman raised by some of the most evil people in the world?”
“Come on, I’m sure there’s worse people out there.”
“I would marry you, you know.” Sirius says with a finality, and you cackle loudly, throwing your head back with disbelief. “No I’m serious. We can get it annulled immediately after, but if what you want is to be married off so your family can’t control you anymore, let’s do it.”
You smile kindly, reaching up to rest a hand on Sirius’s arm. “You’re really sweet Sirius. And you’re going to wake up and wish you never said any of that, so I’m going to have to reject that offer.” Sirius frowns. “I don’t regret things often, you know.”
“We can’t get married, we’ve never even held hands.” Sirius scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. He gestures wildly with his hands before cupping your face and yanking it forward so he can slam his lips against yours. You gasp loudly, but before you can make a decision on how to react, Sirius has already pulled away, and it telling you “You’re just scared that you have an out now.” You huff stubbornly, unhappy with how he has called you out. “You’re right, and I feel a little silly now because you’re offering to do me the world's biggest favour, but I’m not brave enough to just walk away.”
Sirius pushes himself off the floor so he can stand, and he wipes his hands on his trousers before offering them to you. You sling your bag through your arm, then reach up for Sirius’s hands, letting him pull you off the floor. Now that he stands so close to you, you remember the way he had looked at you the other day, an amused smile as he stared at you. You weren’t surprised when Narcissa approached you an hour later to tell you about her cousin’s interest in you.
“You know, when I came to find you, I expected for us to argue a little then snog for majority of the afternoon.” You laugh quietly, bumping your shoulder with his, then mumble “We can still do that if you want to.” You begin walking in the direction to the castle, looking back when you don’t find Sirius next to you. You find him frozen in his step, staring at you with wide eyes. “We can?” He asks, and you shrug lightly with a teasing smile before continuing to walk away from him.
“Come one Black, let’s find ourselves a broom closet.”
