Watchmen (Super Sentai) Five Kink Meme
Rules of the meme:
1. Anonymously(or not, because we seem to have stopped following this rule) post a pairing and prompt you would like to see written. Since this is a kink meme, there is supposted to be a kink involved, but normal well-written prompts should work just as well.
2. Anonymous will respond to your post and write it for you! Art and such ( Read more... )
So small. That was the first thing to cross Florence's mind. She couldn't help it. The girl was so small, fragile looking, and the heartbreaking scowl on her sweet, homely face. The shock of red curls, not orange-blonde like so many, but true, vibrant red, was enough to send most people running for a cross. But not Florence.
Kneeling in front of the girl, she let her pink-painted lips slide into her easy-going smile, the practiced smile she used with cantakerous old men, and rowdy patients. It didn't seem to have much of an affect on the girl, but the blonde woman could see something intelligent in those deep-sea-blue eyes.
"Hello, Wanda. My name is Florence... This is Ursula, my partner. My friend, Lill, has told me so much about you..." She gave the woman sitting behind the desk a nod. She'd been the headmistress at Lillian Charleton for nearly her entire life, after having graduating from the home. She'd even been named after the foundeer, after she'd been found as a child too young to speak.
Lillian smiled, nodding, "Yes, Wanda-dear. Florence is a nurse at the Hospital. I..." She paused, a bit unsure of the other woman. The darker woman. Black hair, black coat. She wore black heels, too, spiked so high they had to be painful. With thirty some odd children, Lillian had to wear flats, or she ended up with swollen ankles.
Florence watched as intelligent eyes flitted up to Ursula, a small sound that could have been 'Hrn...' shifting up the young girl's throat. Barely ten, and she had such a distrust in her eyes. Turning her own brown eyes to her lover, she plead with Ursula silently to help.
"So... I hear you like boxing, kiddo?" Ursula offered, a slinky smile on her face. That same slinky smile she got when she slid on a black suit, tied a red sash around her waist, and was gone all night. It wasn't one that Florence enjoyed...
Another small sound, a "Hmmn." from the girl, and a curt, short nod. An answering nod from the bob-haired woman.
"Alright then. I'll give you lessons. Sound good? I'm a good boxer myself." She smiled, "Had to do something when bored... I guess you're the same?" It was a purr, and Florence paused, seeing a bit of splotchy color rise to freckled cheeks.
Lillian smiled, "Well then! We can start with that, I assume. Best to get to know one another first. Absolutely." She nodded, sure that she was finally finding a good home for lovely little Wanda Kovacs, who occasionally scared the fourty-odd year old woman.
~end part one.
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With Ursula's bouts of boredom lasting a lot longer than one would think, it was only natural, at least to Florence, that the girls bonded a lot faster than normal.
Within the week, Wanda was over after school, in their small two bedroom red-brick house, bought with one of Ursula's many trust funds. Sitting at the table, and if Florence herself was home, the blonde woman would place some small snack, maybe a Little Debby's or a hostess, and a glass of milk, before the girl's homework. The girl drank greedily, and the snacks were always devoured with a soft, urgent sort of reverence. It made Florence's heart ache.
A month in, and it was decided that they would have a trial live-in. Wanda would move into the spare room in their little brick house. The girl seemed almost fraught with worry, promising that she wouldn't make noise, or break anything. She even offered to do all the sewing, though she ammended, saying she wasn't very good at it.
Florence had smiled then, and commented, "Well, neither is Ursula, dear, but I'll be happy to teach you the ropes." She had always wanted a daughter to teach her needlepoint to...
It wasn't long before the young girl wasn't so young anymore. Her eleventh birthday was a celebration. Ursula unveiled her present, a set of gymnast's equipment in the backyard, and a blue mat to be hidden in the shed, for 'practice bouts', she said. Florence's own gift paled, in comparison, but for some reason, the red-headed child wore it from then on. Just a small hair barrette, decorated with a barely-there green flower. Nothing fancy, or amazingly bejewled. But Wanda loved it.
It was that particular jewel, actually, that brought Wanda the luck, of meeting her very, very bestest friend. School was a chore for the girl. She hated the textbooks, except for history. History was interesting. The old presidents, the wars... She wished she'd been old enough to serve as a nurse on the front lines, like Florence...
Only in her most secret dreams, did she let herself really think, that she wished she could have been a soldier on those lines.
So, it was walking down the hall, when she felt someone tall brush against her hair, causing her beloved present to fall.
The tall, large someone bend down, picking up the hairpin, and smiled a sweet smile, glasses over soft brown eyes.
"Is this yours, sweetiepie?"
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Blue eyes met brown, and Wanda couldn't help but think something important was happening, and she should probably take notes. The brunette in front of her was chubby, but Wanda couldn't muster up the same 'Work out, dammit!' feelings she felt towards other women who were the same.
This girl looked GOOD chubby. STRONG chubby. It made Wanda wonder how hard she could hit. Ah... Now the other girl was looking at her strangely.
"Are you okay? I didn't bump you too hard, did I?" Brown-eyed girl smiled nervously, worried. She saw that expression on Florence's face, whenever she and Ursula trained until early hours in the morning, and then she got up just like normal to study and eat before going to school. After a week of that, she'd banned Wanda from the back yard until she got twelve hours of sleep in one day.
It had made her feel lazy. But good.
She nodded to the other girl, to get that worried look off her face. "Fine." And then remembering her manners, ("Always remember your manners, kiddo, they'll fool someone every time. And fooling gets you what you want...") she cleared her throat, and added a croaked, "Thanks."
The smile she got in return was so bright it almost blinded her. "Good! I'm Danielle, by the way. Dani, for short. What's your name?"
A distressed 'Eenk' made it out of Wanda's lips before she could think, and her quick blue eyes cast around for an escape, but that smile kept her pinned to the barely-matching-linoleum-floor. She swallowed back more discouraging sounds, and answered, softly, "Wanda Kovacs."
Another smile, and Wanda could feel her heart starting a countdown to explode. Why was this girl still TALKING to her?! Didn't she know she was Weirdo Wanda?
"Nice to meet you, Wanda! I really like that hairpin, where'd you get it?"
Oh god... the questions... they'd never stop...
((XD I couldn't find a good place to end this part... XD TQA Entreshi... Captcha, you're weird. XD))
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Please to update this soon! I fell in love with it <3
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Mama'll buy you a Nightingale
The questions never really DID stop... Danielle was full of them, as Wanda would soon learn. But somehow, the ginger girl couldn't really see that as being a problem. Yes, she was inquisitive... but it worked for her. She was a bookworm. She was also completely unaware of how beautiful she was...
Those thoughts only started about the time Wanda hit puberty though. Of course, she was relatively sure she was going insane the first time she realised that when her friend bent over, YES she was watching her butt. Yes, it was a very nice butt.
Of course, she went to Ursula first. Florence wouldn't tell her anything, she'd just blush and stammer and say 'Awwww, how cute! First crush!' Which was entirely unhelpful.
So, Wanda cornered her 'mother', and licked her lips, ready to explain. Ursula of course had a very clear answer.
"You like her. Ask her out. We'll all go to dinner."
Of course, she should have expected such a straightforward answer. Ursula was rarely unsure, and she always had an answer for everything.
Wanda, of course, did NOT ask Wanda out, because if she knew one thing from those Vogue magazines and Cosmopolitan, lesbianism was NOT, unfortunately, accepted world wide. And Yes, Danielle was from a nice jewish family, much like Ursula's, but as Ursula's life showed, the family wasn't always happy about... choices like that.
Wanda would not make her friend choose. And she'd been willing to uphold that to the end.
Until of course, she woke up one night, hearing the sounds of stifled, muffled violence. It was so unwelcome in her new home, that she stood, her nightgown modest around her, as she crept down the hallway.
Her mothers' door was open, just a bit. Florence never left the door open. She hated the idea that Wanda might see something, and end up even more traumatised than she already was. Inside, the light was on, and she could see...
Figures. Several figures, all in white cloaks, and strange pointed hats. She could see Ursula's face, eyes wide open and gasping, staring at Wanda, as if her soul would escape. One moment it was possible to think that Ursula was only panicking, the next...
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Six full grown men, if she could tell by the shoe count. None of them unarmed, all distracted by chanting. But if they could get into the house this silently, they obviously knew about her. No time to get her things then.
She padded silently back to her room, and realised that she might possibly going into shock. Opening her bedroom window, she shimmied down the drainpipe, nightgown tearing, careful not to make much noise, and ran, barefooted, afcross the cold december grass.
Over one fence, into Mr. Johennessy's back yard. Another fence, and into Mr. And Mrs. Sandre's. Five, six more fences, and she was on a street. It was early in the morning, or maybe late at night, she wasn't sure, because the streetwalkers were still out. They were all painted, and she wasn't, so it was obvious to them that she wasn't one of their kind, and had no money.
It took her until eight AM to find the nearest police station. She reported the crime, along with the men's shoe sizes, and snippets of each person's voice, and yes, if they found them, she would very much testify against them. It was all 'Oh, poor dear's and 'you poor thing, orphaned twice...'.
Wanda only knew one phone number beside her own. With shaking fingers, she dialled, and was surprised to hear a gruff man's voice answer the phone.
"E-excuse me sir. Th-this is Wanda Zandt... C-Could I speak with Danielle?" Of course it was ridiculous o'clock in the morning, and the man wasn't happy, but she could hear him rousing his daughter from bed.
After a short, sharp explanation, she was immediately filled with warmth at Danielle's soft voice cooing over her, and the words she'd wanted to hear all night flowed on the other line.
"Don't you worry, Wanda! I'll be RIGHT there, okay! DADDY! GET THE CAR, my friend's in TROUBLE!"
Everything in the world fell into place then.
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