#her support foundation was crumbling

[metalinjector95]

Honestly I had never met an fictional character who Deserved every right to have a more Valid Crashout than Jentry Freakin Chau!

Honestly I wished Jentry by near end of the season or in Season 2 would go Full Omni-man on some evil demon.

[zaczenemiji]

Where reader  beg Kenji to let her do her makeup on him and he all pout the entire time but he secretly likes it

Glam Before the Slam

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,435

Genre/Warning: Established Relationship, Fluff, Makeover

Author’s Note: This felt like Kenji’s GRWM and him looking bonita 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

MASTERLIST

You were so so excited for Kenji’s upcoming big interview tonight, and you, being the supportive girlfriend that you are, were more than willing to help in your own way.

Kenji stood in front of the mirror, combing his hair for what felt like the hundredth time. The Grand Slam Show was just a few hours away, and the nerves were starting to get to him.

“You look handsome,” you said, creeping up on him and hugging him from behind. You tiptoed so your chin could rest on his shoulder and stare at him in the mirror.

“I know what’s missing,” you told him, referring to the unending combing of his hair. He's been doing that for the past minutes, trying to get things to look right.

But if he asked you, you’d tell him he didn’t have to change anything because he already looked perfect. He was the most handsome guy in the world and nothing can change your mind.

“What is it?” He asked, his form relaxing and leaning back into your smaller figure.

You smiled as you circled his body, arms still wrapped around him until you were in front of him. You let go to lean on his your vanity table in his room, pulling one of the drawers out to show your makeup essentials.

Kenji crossed his arms, the corners of his mouth tugging into a familiar pout. "I don't do makeup, (y/n)."

"Please," you pleaded, stepping closer and giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "Just this once. For me?"

Kenji sighed, his resolve already crumbling. He could never say no to you when you looked at him like that. "Fine," he muttered, “but just this once."

Or so he thought.

You beamed, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. He settled down reluctantly, still pouting but clearly resigned to his fate.

“Aren’t we going to do this in front of the mirror?” He asked, looking up at you.

You shook your head. “No because I know that you’d just go against everything,” you said, chuckling and giving him a kiss on his forehead.

“First, before applying your makeup, we’ll need to moisturize,” from the vanity drawer within reach, you took out a small bottle and showed it to him. It’s important that he knows what’ll be applied to his face.

“Intense renewal serum,” he read. He looked up at you to see your eyes sparkling with excitement.

With the dropper, you put some on his forehead and under his eyes before spreading it on his face using your fingers.

“Next, we’ll create a base,” you said. “This would control the oil on your face.”

“Oil blocker ex,” he read. You scooped a small amount with your fingers and applied it to his face.

“Alright, the base is done,” you said, placing the primer on the table. “We’ll now put…” you paused, rummaging through the drawer. “Foundation!” You held it close to his face for him to read.

“Gel creamy foundation,” he said.

“Very good!” you chuckled. “You’re so good at reading.”

You pumped it twice on your hand, leaving two dots of foundation on it. Afterward, you gently ran a brush over it and then applied it to Kenji’s face.

He closed his eyes, his lips still set in a stubborn line. As the brush moved across his face, his pout gradually softened, and he began to relax.

After applying the foundation, you grab a sponge and pat it on his face; this process really makes a difference. “This would even your skin tone,” you told him.

You leaned back to check him. “Your skin looks really good!” you said, smiling at him. At that moment, he felt like he fell in love with you again. He does every time he sees you happy.

Next, you held the concealer in front of him, waiting for him to read it.

“Skin reflect fresh concealer,” he said.

“You’re going to look so good on camera,” you said, leaning close. You used the other side of the sponge to dab it and blend it on his face, covering any signs of tiredness.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, but you noticed the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“To finish up the base, we’ll use this,” you said, holding up yet again another product in front of him.

“Invisible essence loose powder translucent,” he read, chuckling afterward. “That’s a long one.”

Using a big brush, you applied the powder lightly to set everything in place. “There you go,” you said, holding him below his jaw.

“We’re done?” Kenji asked.

“No, but I’m gonna let you have a water break,” you answered. “Mina, please get him a glass of water.”

As the two of you waited for Mina, you went over the vanity to place back the items you’ve used and to take out the ones you’ll be using next.

This time, it was his turn to hug you from behind. He gave little tickling kisses on your neck. “Stop!” You said, laughing and squirming away from his embrace. “You’re gonna ruin your makeup!”

“Here is the wa— oh,” Mina said, pausing when she saw the two of you.

You finally escaped his arms, still laughing as you took a step back. You thanked Mina as Kenji took the glass, drank the water, and handed it back to Mina.

Kenji then returned to sit on the edge of the bed, letting you continue. “I’m going to contour the sides of your nose, your jawline, and your cheeks,” you said, walking towards him.

“Shading powder,” he read the product.

You used the included brush in the palette to apply the product to the areas you mentioned.

“Suck in your cheeks,” you told him as you were about to apply contour on his cheeks. Surprisingly, he did as told but you could see him trying hard to hold back a smile.

"Almost done," you said, reaching for an eyebrow pencil to define his brows slightly.

He opened one eye to peek at you, his expression softening. "This really necessary?" he asked, though his tone was more curious than annoyed.

"Absolutely," you replied with a grin, stepping back to admire your handiwork. "You look amazing."

You took his hand, “Don’t open your eyes yet,” and guided him back to the mirror. “Okay, you can look now.”

Kenji opened his eyes, looking at himself in the mirror. His expression shifted from skepticism to surprise. "I do look different," he admitted, turning his head to get a better look. "Better, I guess."

You smiled, feeling a warm rush of satisfaction. “You already looked the best even before the makeup,” you said. "You're going to knock 'The Grand Slam Show' out of the park."

Kenji chuckled, finally letting a genuine smile break through his pout. "Thanks, (y/n)."

He leaned down to press a quick kiss to your forehead, his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate it. Really.”

You stare up at him lovingly, knowing that he secretly loved every moment of being pampered by you.

When you guys arrived on the set, you made sure to apply a bit of lipstick on Kenji so he wouldn’t look pale.

“Thanks, (y/n),” leaning in for a kiss but you held your hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Micro kiss only,” you said as you gently pressed your lips on his so as to not ruin his lipstick.

Bonus Scene: The Grand Slam Show

"So, Kenji, you've been having an incredible season so far," the host said, leaning forward with a grin. "But I have to say, you're looking particularly sharp today. What's your secret?"

Kenji chuckled, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he glanced at you in the audience.

"Well, I have to give credit where it's due," he said, a playful smile forming on his lips. "My girlfriend actually did my makeup for me today."

The host raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? That's fantastic! Tell us more."

Kenji's smile widened, and he looked directly into the camera, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, she insisted on it. Said I needed to look my best for the cameras. And honestly, I think she did a great job."

The host laughed, clapping his hands together.” Well, she certainly did. You look amazing. Shoutout to Kenji's girlfriend for the excellent work!"

Kenji nodded, his expression softening. “Thanks, babe," he said sincerely. “Couldn't have done it without you."

The audience let out a collective "aww" and applauded, and Kenji couldn't help but grin, feeling a warmth in his chest.

From that day on, in every interview, you became his personal makeup artist.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@sweetangle8 @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart

[anki-of-beleriand]

A heart Made of Glass ch. 13

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

Oh, I am back and this chapter is a wrap-up for the confrontation between Reader and Wanda. They had been given a moment of solitude before going back to their own reality, can they really get past through everyting that happened to them in the past?

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 13

Can we change the past?

You never imagined this ordeal would end in the way it did.

The universe you left behind came crumbling down under the weight of its own shaky foundations, it became a cold unfitting world that disappear the moment you and the others touched the land of another Universe.

Everything was kind of blurry from the on.

You knew Wanda was taken away, and soon after you were also being carried to a room in which you lost consciousness after your body finally gave up. Your mind didn’t have the time to think about what had happened or what would happen after you were completely recover. You let things happened, and in that time you gave yourself to a blissful mindfulness in which you knew, sooner or later, you would need to face everything you had been running from.

It soon became evident that time was running out, with people coming in and out of your room checking over your physical and mental well-being before asking uneasy questions. Sometimes you would evade those questions, and some others you would give vague answers that would tell the others you were no fool.

You stretched out grasping thin air in your fist, tilting your head you started making a small sequence of Tai Chi you had learnt from Yelena. After more than a week of being in the hospital, you were finally able to feel your body as yours again. Your muscles flexed, and the shadows under your feet stirred with the silent command of your thoughts. You smiled glancing at your reflection through the window, everything was working just fine and you knew you were ready to go back home.

The door behind you cracked, and the knob turned to the left revealing the single figure of Doctor Jean Grey. The woman was beautiful, and her smile was infectious always putting your mind at ease.

“Hello, Y/N, how are you this morning?”

“Doc, I’m doing better now, thank you.” You spined around slowly, the shadows wavering around until they covered your feet, your smile grew cocking your head to follow the lead of your left arm then your right one.

“I certainly felt much better now.”

“I can see that.” The woman smile stepping closer to your bed while placing a single file on the breakfast table.

“Tell me you cam here with good news.”

Jean offered a single smile while taking a seat, she sat waiting for you to settle down on the bed. The room soon filled with silence that was only broken by the busy morning routine right outside your room. You had learnt your room was in one of the busiest wings in the hospital back in the Tower. Wanda had not been that lucky, though.

“Well, I do come with news, if they are good or not depend entirely on you.” Jean could see the change in you, even through the easy smile you wore the young doctor could see you were being overly cautious.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

Doctor Jean Gray sauntered inside the room with a light blush on her cheeks. Her eyes twinkling merrily glancing at the chart in her hands before settling then on you.

For some reason, the reaction of the woman made you squirm uncomfortably. You had been in this universe for two days now, but it wasn't until now that you were forced to go inside the examination room and get yourself a quick check-up. It was quite evident that in this world mutants and superpowered individuals were treated differently, and the rules governing each one of them were set to get control on the population. 

“You seemed rather chirp today, Doc, good news for you or me?”

Jean chuckled, placing the chart on the bed before putting a chair close to the bed.

“It's my anniversary, and I received quite the news today.” She stated tilting her head, you smiled back at her.

“Congratulations, then.” 

Jean nodded, putting a strand of hair out of her face, “thank you.”

“So that would be for you, what about me?” You finally asked leaning forward, your eyes drifting to the chart in your bed.

“Everything seems to be okay.”

“But…?” You arched a brow when Jean leaned back on the chair offering a serious facade.

“You had been quite silent in the last couple of days, keeping yourself out of everyone's way and most importantly,” here Jean stopped as if measuring her words, “your avoidance of your particular predicament has raised some concerns on our end.”

Silence followed such a declaration, you dared to lock eyes with the woman sitting in front of you well-aware of her ability to read beyond your initial thoughts. Jean didn't move nor did she give any indication of breaking into small talk, I stead she seemed to sit there and wait patiently for you to speak.

“I’m not sure I want to have this conversation.” You sighed, lifting a hand to the back of your head, scratching the nape of your neck. “But I guess it is inevitable.”

“It is.” Jean softened her features, grabbing the file she left on your bed, she opened it in a single page while presenting the form to you.

“How…how is she?” Your voice was above a whisper, but it was loud enough for Jean to hear it.

The woman leaned back letting you read the file while she started talking. 

“She is doing better now, trying to recover her magical core had been quite the challenge but our own team of witches and healers had come together to help around.” 

There was nothing much you could do but nod, your eyes drifted to the file with your thoughts trying to focus on a single issue at a time. Ever since the five of you got to that universe everything had been but a blur; your Wanda was taken straight to the hospital and she had been looked after Tony's team back in the Avengers Tower. 

“That's good.”

“I just want to do one last check-up before clearing you up, America has been waiting for you and the twins are very excited as well.” Jean chuckled, standing up making her way to the closest drawer and putting some surgical gloves out. “They seemed to think that having a pair of moms at their disposal would give them some kind of advantage in their mischief.”

You tried to hide your expression from the other woman, but it was inevitable. Jean offered a sympathetic smile while getting to work. 

“They are just children…” you mumbled feeling your body warm up, your muscles twitching just as Jean started testing your reflex. “I don't think they understand that much.”

“Mm, you would be surprised how much Billy and Tommy understand about the situation.” Jean leaned back, lifting her left hand and letting it hover right on top of your forehead. “They are pretty smart, and sensitive.”

You pressed your lips together not wanting to go into a discussion. Not that you could raise any arguments against that statement, you had noticed just how sensitive they were and how smart they were. They had come that first time into your room calling you mom without a care in the world, telling you about their day while also making you aware of how they had sneaked in to see you and Wanda.

Your counterpart had been amused by your reaction, while her Wanda had been just a tad bit concerned about the confusion the whole situation could create in the children. 

“If I were to be honest, you look more confused than them.”

“You told me you don't read minds unless you have permission.” You replied furrowing your brows, Jean had the sense of looking embarrassed but never lost her smile when looking back at you.

“You kind of scream that thought at me, sometimes it is inevitable.”

Jean then leaned back, grabbing your file and writing some notes down. 

“I think you're ready to go.” Jean cocked her head when the first thing you did was jump down the bed and go to the closest chair holding your clothes. “But Wanda…”

You winced, grabbing your clothes tightly before turning around, this time around Jean was looking serious, her eyes gleaming lightly.

“What about Wanda?”

The silence grew around the both of you, your body was already tensing the muscles you would need to run. Jean opened her mouth only to close it again as if she didn't know what to say or how to say it. 

“I think you should visit her, it can make a difference in her recovery.”

At the end of the day, this last visit from Jean Grey was just that, another attempt from these people to go to Wanda and make sure she was okay. For you to stop running and face her taking ownership of what would happen next.

It was complicated.

And you were unsure as to how to proceed or what was expected of you.

“Look, I just…”

“MOM!!!!”

Not sooner had you heard such a scream, you found yourself being tackled by a pair of bouncing kids. Your heart skipped a beat with your arms lifted at your shoulders height while the kids had their faces up to look at you with toothy grins. They were quite adorable, and in reality a part of you seemed to just instantly loved them, noticing the likeness they had to Wanda and yourself.

“Okay, guys let’s back up a little, remember what we talked to you about?” 

The room was suddenly very crowded, your counterpart came right in followed by America and Pietro. It became quite apparent that everyone was waiting for Jean to finish her last check-up on you before getting into the room and see how you were doing. You placed your hands on the twin’s heads ruffling their hair playfully while offering a tentative smile. 

“That’s okay, I’m getting used to the enthusiastic greeting.”

“And them calling you mom?” Pietro inquired, quaking his brow while placing his hands in his pockets.

You couldn’t help the little wince, recoiling from the comment with your body turning to the chair and grabbing your clothes once more. Billy and Tommy glanced at one another, with Billy opening his eyes really big while making a gesture with his head. 

“Anyway, I’m just glad to know your good to go, because I was thinking we can go right ahead and get a look around and perhaps…” America started babbling making her way to your bed.

You nodded absentmindedly, your attention drifting for a moment to your counterpart and Jean that had decided to step out of the room to have a small conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on, and what they were discussing with your thoughts going over and over to the woman that was still unconscious somewhere inside the building. 

Everything was strange in this universe. 

A part of you knew that sooner or later the conversation of Wanda and you going back to your respective reality would come; but it was quite evident everyone was waiting for the right moment to intervene and perhaps get something done. 

“Well, I think you better change so we can get out of here,” Pietro broke your line of thoughts, his eyes gleaming mischievously with his lips curling into a familiar expression. “Billy and Tommy prepare something for you, and I bet you are dying to eat something that isn’t hospital food.”

“You are completely right on that one, I’m going to change and then…you guys can show me a good time.”

You offered a tentative smile, your heart dropping for a moment when the twins cheered babbling non-stop to America and Pietro. For a brief moment you wondered…

…was this what you were missing back home?

_______________

You had been welcomed inside the household of your counterpart. 

This time around, the guest room had been prepared and you could enjoy the joys of a soft bed and a nice view of the backyard while trying to get some sleep. The day had been quite unexpected, with the twins and America being active participants in different forms of conversations and different sets of games and rambles that you were not prepared to share with these people.

You had tried to get away from it, but Billy and Tommy were very adamant on having you close and including you in every single moment of their afternoon. You didn’t fight too hard to not be there, though. After a while you realised Wanda would not be joining the family outing and actually your counterpart ended up being just a good source of geek material that differed from the one you had in your own world. 

Not for a single moment did anyone mention the white elephant in the room.

And for that you were quite grateful.

But now, in the middle of the night with the stars twinkling above your head and everyone sleeping in the house you couldn't help but think about it. Time was running out, sooner or later you would need to go back and face the consequences of what happened back in Norway and in that other universe. 

Sooner or later you would need to face Wanda once more.

“It is pretty late for you to be thinking so loud.” 

You kept your attention on the stars, the room was completely dark which was one of the reasons as to why you knew she had come home already. The young woman took a few steps forward until she was standing beside you, her face turned to the sky with her arms hugging her tightly.

“I just couldn’t go back to sleep.” You shrugged leaning against the wall, your head tilted to the side. “It was quite an exciting day, I think I’m still in a sugar rush.”

Wanda chuckled, lowering her head, her eyes gleaming lightly, turning her attention to you.

“So I heard. The twins really took you everywhere and made sure you taste everything back in the restaurant, didn’t they?”

Your face fell when the memories of that day came back, the twins had never left your side while telling you stories about their adventures. Not for a single moment did they think or even entertained the idea of them not being part of your life in your other world. For them it had been natural to make sure that you and Wanda did not forget about them. That was one of the reasons why it had been a shock for them to find out you and they didn’t know about that restaurant.

“You should tell our other selves about this place, mom! I know they will love it!”

“Yeah, we love it, and you love bringing us here!”

It still burnt that this life was not yours, but there was nothing you could do. 

Wanda could read your thoughts; she could sense your pain and it was something she couldn’t take. Not with you. Wanda dropped her arms, stepping closer to you. Her hand felt warm on your face, brushing away your hair and mapping out the form of your jaw. It was so unexpected you couldn’t help but freeze in place the tension evident in the contraction of your muscles, your left foot stepping back and stopping waiting for the other foot to join. It didn’t happen, though, you stood there waiting for something else to happen. 

“They are good kids.” Your voice trembled at the very end of that sentence, but your eyes never waver in their hold of those green irises.

“They are. They are very much your children as much as they are mine.” Wanda offered a timid smile that soon vanished, whatever hold she had on you broke and the young woman turned around as if ready to leave. 

The tension in your body didn’t leave, and your mind was poking at you uncomfortably pressing over for you to speak. To say something, to ask the question you were dying to ask but didn’t dare to do so. It looked as if nothing else was going to be said that day, as if nothing else was going to happen and you were trying to get a hold of your beating heart when Wanda stopped by the door turning to the side and locking her eyes with yours.

“You will need to face her sooner or later, Y/N.” Wanda let her words sink in, her eyes softening lightly when she could sense the conflict inside of you. 

“Do I have to?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda lifted her shoulder stepping back. 

“I think you know the answer to that question,” she stated letting out a tired yawn, “what you really need to ask yourself, though is what would happen if that confrontation doesn’t come the way you expect it to be? What if it becomes everything you thought impossible with her? Are you ready to face that conversation? Are you ready to make a decision for you and her?”

You hated the fact this Wanda was so insightful and you hated even more that she was right. That was the real reason as to why you couldn’t sleep, as to why you were trying to bury your emotions and your memories, while also running away from what you were experimenting with. Of the changes that had come knocking on your door all those months ago.

“Have a good night, Y/N, rest and follow your instincts on this one because they…” Wanda left the sentence in the air, and it was you the one to finish it.

“They had never failed me.”

There was a flash of a smile and then Wanda left, closing the door behind her. 

___________________

But trying to follow your instincts was easier said than done.

A part of you knew the meeting was inevitable, after all, the both of you needed to go back to your respective Universe and this would never happen if you two kept on avoiding one another. But then, there was another part, the one you had been carrying with you for far too long, that was afraid of a confrontation that might broke your heart all over again.  

You played with time for as long as you could, taking advantage of Tony’s curiosity and Loki’s infinite questions. You became very helpful of Wong and Hank’s questions, and you couldn’t help but give in the twin’s whims every night before going to bed. Nevertheless, you had the days count on that universe, and it wasn’t as if you really wished to stay. You missed home, and you missed your friends and family; but the final step to get everything ready to go back was something you had never felt ready to do.

On the fifth morning you woke up on a guest room, you knew you couldn't run anymore. America had finished her breakfast and Y/N was reading the paper, no one did or said anything for a moment until you sat at the table with the coffee warming up the mug in your hands.

“Wanda is fully recovered.” Your counterpart stated, never leaving her eyes from the page she was reading, “she is confused, a little weak but ready to talk and go back home.”

“Talk?” You asked a little harsher than you were meant to.

Y/N lifted a single brow, her lips pursing tightly.

“With you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a kick on your leg made you stop. America was glaring at you, her head shaking slightly opening her eyes and glancing meaningfully at your counterpart.

“I know, I just…”

Y/N sighed, closing the paper and placing it slowly on the counter. Her eyes pierced you with a gaze filled with emotion, you shifted on the chair trying to look away but unable to do so.

“Whether you want it or not, you will need to have this confrontation. Whatever you are afraid of facing…I think you should get your shit together and face it right away. You are running out of time, and excuses.”

Your counterpart finished her tirade with a slap to the table, shaking her head as she stood up and left the kitchen. You cocked your head until you found America glancing at you.

“I guess there is no running from this, is it?”

America shrugged, biting her lower lip, “I guess not.”

You lowered your eyes to the counter before lifting them to ensure America was paying attention to you.

“Once this is over, are you staying or are you coming back with us?” The question caught her off of guard, America was looking shocked and her mouth tried to form a specific thought but was unable to respond right away.

You chuckled standing up, your hand on her shoulder.

“You would be more than welcome back home, but I know you missed this place greatly.” You squeezed her shoulder before walking away, a single wall of dark shadows spreading before you. “Think about it, America, I'll be back in a few hours and we will talk about me and Wanda going back home.”

“I will think about it.” America mumbled offering a half smile. “Good luck.”

You winked at her trying to show more confidence than you actually felt before crossing over the shadows and disappearing into them. The trip was short, with the shadows embracing you with a cold hold leading through the space until you stepped inside a dimly lit hall.

The place was completely silent, though you could make out the sound of chatter in the distance. You lowered your gaze to the floor, our ears twitching lightly ignoring the rest of the sounds and focusing on your heartbeat.

The last couple of months have been a complete rollercoaster for you. You never imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that Wanda would show at your doorstep with a young woman asking for help. For a very long time, you had put in the back of your mind the confrontation with Wanda. A part of you knew it would come, eventually. But you never intended to be the one to take the first step for the meeting to happen.

When you got to see Wanda face to face, and actually talk to her, your world came crumbling down around you. The barriers you had built around your heart and mind ended up not being as strong and resilient as thought them to be. Your heart still missed a beat at the sound of her laughter, and your hardened façade went away as soon as you saw the suffering and the heartbreak in those green eyes.

Wanda would always be one of your greatest weaknesses. 

And you hated yourself for that.

It was as if your own suffering didn't matter, as long as Wanda was fine and didn't have to feel what you felt. Yet you refused to believe her words or even offer forgiveness for the wrong doings in the past. All of this came crashing down in a single meeting, all the doubts and pain came back, but also the yearning and the confusion you were threatening to overwhelm you and leave you without a way out. 

You took a deep breath, your hand running through your hair helping your uneasiness. You closed for a brief moment, and your mind went blank emptying any thoughts that might come in and make you falter in your actions. The last couple of days, and actually the last couple of months, you had thought about this moment; you had given yourself and her a chance to step aside and let the past in the past and for the both of you ready to face the present without thinking too much about the future.

The room was in complete darkness, the lights were out and the curtains were still closed. You could hear the monitor in the corner, the bed occupied the left side of the room leaving a big sofa and a couple of chairs on the right. Hanging from the wall you could see the TV that was huge enough to almost cover the wall, the only thing that prevented this from happening was the side door leading to the bathroom. Tony was really into luxury, you closed the door behind you a little unsure on how to proceed.

The tension around the room only increased when you felt a pair of eyes on you. It didn't take too long for you to know who it was, you stepped forward making your way to the curtains. 

“Would you mind if I open them up? I prefer the natural light of the day instead of the artificial ones.” You turned lightly, finally locking your eyes with those of Wanda.

Your Wanda.

“That's fine.” She replied, her voice was but a whisper but you could get the strong laced tone that Scarlet used whenever she talked to you.

The room changed under the light of the day, while there was not much sun the sky was cloudless and the position of the tower as well as the floor you two were currently in allowed for the perfect setting for natural light. You glanced around a city that was familiar yet strange, the weight of that stare didn't leave you, not even when you finally turned around to lock eyes with her.

“You look fine.” Wanda lowered her chin, her fingers twitching on top of the bed wanting to do or say something else but unsure where her relationship with you stood at the moment.

“I wasn't that badly injured, but I think I did need the rest.” You took a step forward, then another until you were actually standing beside Wanda.

Wanda hesitated for a moment before moving to the left, she chewed on her lower lip before patting the spot on the bed.

“You can sit here, if … if you want, there is also a chair and…” whatever else Wanda was going to say was cut off by you taking her initial offer of sitting on the bed.

Wanda felt her heart do somersaults, her body tingling at your closeness and the little voice she had come to recognize as Scarlet’s whispering to her telling her to close the distance, to grab your hand, to not let you go. But she held back knowing that her position was precarious at best and whatever you had come to discuss with her needed to be addressed first. 

“How are you?” You fixed your position on the bed, well aware that the only thing you needed was to lower your arm and your hand would be touching Wanda's one. 

“I'm better now, a little sore and getting use to…” here Wanda trailed off with her brows creasing a little, “to be complete, I guess. It's difficult, but I think I am ready.”

Her words held a decisive tone, but her eyes were flashing the doubts running inside her mind. You realised right there and then that nothing much had changed in the last couple of years, there were things you could still read about her. 

“Ready for what?” You asked quietly, Wanda sighed shrugging.

“Going back.” She replied simply. “Getting out of your way, out of your life…I did promise you after all of this was over I wouldn't bother you any more…”

Her words stung your heart, spreading an electrifying pain all through your body until it hit your brain. You didn't understand why, exactly. That had been the deal, to help her out and then get her out of your life. Then, if you knew what was going to happen, how it would end, why were you having these doubts? Why did it hurt?

Wanda was in her own thoughts, a part of her she had tried to suppress, the one she tried to deny stirred in anger. Wanda wanted to speak out, to tell you she didn't want to go and that she certainly didn't want to pretend nothing had happened in the last couple of months. That seeing you had been one of her greatest joys in life, but it had also brought pain and sadness, that being in this universe seeing the twins and facing what could have been…

Without really noticing, tears started falling rolling down her cheeks while her heart shrank with the weight of her emotions. Wanda refused to give in, her fists closing tightly and her tears breaking her composure and without really wanting to she finally broke in front of you.

You observed the full process, the way her face changed and the tears pilling up her eyes. Wanda was trying to bottle up whatever she was feeling, whatever she was thinking. It was so easy to ignore everything the other woman was experiencing; it was easy to hold onto your shared past. 

But this was Wanda.

And you couldn't ignore her. That was the reason why you had to disappear after the breakup.

With a tentative touch, you let your hand fall on top of hers. Your thumb drew circles before leaning in and wrapping her in a hug. Wanda held onto you, her sobs filling the room while her hands tried to grasp your clothes. You didn't say anything, but for some reason you could feel it.

The apology you never allowed her to share with you. The broken heart she had been wearing ever since that day. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

Wanda cried and once she started she couldn't stop. Fixing your position on the bed you made sure she was comfortably resting her weight on your left side, putting comforting arms around her while soothing her body with sweet caresses you had dared to make in anyone but her.

Whatever conversation you were meant to have with her, whatever it was you had come to talk to her about soon crumbled under the pressure of her tears and your own feelings for her. 

And just like that, you knew you couldn't let her go.

Not without a real conversation.

And not without a fight.

______________________

Wanda was not completely sure when she fell asleep, but right now she was completely aware of being awake resting on top of you with the warmth and comfort of your presence soothing her soul.

Her body tensed right away, though soon she relaxed into the embrace having noticed your even breathing and the relaxed posture of your body. You had fallen asleep as well and, at some point the both of you had ended up sharing the small hospital bed without anyone coming over to interrupt that moment.

Wanda nuzzled her face against your neck, she wished this was something she would share with you every day. How she had missed waking up in your arms, to see your smile in the mornings and your hyperactive body demand for the morning routine. Everything was so messed up, and she didn't know when she allowed her world to crumble into nothingness.

Her heart trembled with emotion, and her thoughts formed an idea Wanda knew was not completely hers but a figment of Scarlet. 

You have to fight back! You need to get her back! You need to tell her everything we discovered! Everything we know!

Her voice was demanding, yet it held a hint of desperation that Wanda was familiar with. It was the same voice she had woken up to back in the battlefield after the snap, the same one she had heard countless of times whenever she thought about you or a way to recover her life. Everything had been so complicated, yet it could had been so easy to recover her life to actually try to make a change and reconcile with everyone.

There were no more tears in her eyes, and the sadness and sorrow she had lived with all her life was a burden she was tired to carry with her. With some reluctance, Wanda let go of you stirring in the bed while trying to be careful in her movements, she missed your closeness and the warm that your body had provided but it was time for her to stand up.

You need to fight for her, you cannot lose her. Not again.

The voice echoed inside her head, and Wanda knew this time around she couldn’t allow her fears to stop her from at least getting a chance to be your friend. With that thought in mind, Wanda stood on weakened feet gathering her strength before walking towards the closes wardrobe and grabbing some clothes. She gave you one last glance before making her way to the bathroom, she would need to get ready for what would come next.

It was the cold what wake you up.

The cold and the fact you missed the weight of someone resting on your left side, you sighed blinking owlishly while patting the side of the bed where you were pretty sure your companion had been resting. In those glorious moments between being awake and asleep, you were trying to grasp the reality of the woman you had been holding. Your memory groggily moving through the smell of her shampoo, and the softness of her skin and then…

You remembered.

Wanda had been crying, you had held her, you had fallen asleep…

You stood up so fast that you fell of the bed hitting your head against the night table, while hitting your ass on the ground.

“Ugh, fuck…”

“Are you…are you alright? What…did you fall off the bed?”

You wished you could hide, but instead of that you lifted your face to see Wanda standing by the bed trying to hold back her laughter just as her eyes gleamed with worry. You could sense the blush forming on your cheeks, while your whole body seemed to protest under the pain of the hits you got when falling.

“I…yes, I just…woke up too fast and…I fell off the bed.”

That was all that Wanda needed to start laughing, she couldn’t help herself. She had seen you woke up and then lose all control while getting your feet entangled on the sheets and falling on your ass. It had been funny, and the fact that you now looked all embarrassed and were pouting made for the scene not only something funny but quite adorable.

You huffed trying to stand up, rolling your eyes while the other woman held against the bed trying to control her laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, little witch…” the nickname slipped your lips without giving it a second thought. That made the laughter died and once more the room was filled with a tension neither one of you were ready to maintain.

“I’m sorry it’s just…your face, and the way you fell, so full of grace…”

“I bet.” You rolled your eyes trying to check your head and body before settling your eyes on Wanda.

The young woman had put on some jeans and a white blouse, while her hair was still wet after the bath. You furrowed your brows looking away while catching the time on the clock on the wall. It was almost midday, which would explain why you were so hungry all of a sudden.

“I guess you really are feeling better.”

Wanda bounced lightly checking her hands and body, she wouldn’t say she felt better but she certainly was tired of being in bed while letting everyone come in and out to check her over. This world had a peculiar way to treat people with powers and having so many people with magical abilities come in and check her magical core had been extenuating and rather uncomfortable. The only time she had felt at ease had been with her counterpart, and that had been a whole different situation.

“I just need to get out of here.” Wanda finally revealed offering a half smile, “I heard from one of the nurses they have a nice restaurant right across the street, it has sandwiches and pizza…perhaps…”

You blinked a couple of times at the suggestion, your hand went right away to your pocket and your wallet. You hope the money you carried with you had some sort of value on this place, with a shrugged you nodded your agreement.

“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, then.”

Wanda couldn’t hide her smile at the acceptance, she turned around and grabbing a jacket dragged you out of the room making her way directly to the elevator at the end of the hall. None of them noticed the camera watching their every move or the shadowy figure hidden in a close-by room. Your counterpart smirked shaking her head, she owed her wife a nice dinner. Wanda had always been right. Always.

In the security room, Wanda Maximoff allowed a tiny smile on her face, she lifted her stare to Tony and Loki, both of them shook their heads still slightly confused about the interaction.

“Now, what?” Tony finally asked staring at Wanda then at Loki.

“Now, we wait.” Loki replied waving away his hand. “For now, I think they are right, I’m starving and you ought to feed us, Stark.”

“Why is it always my responsibility?”

“You’re the one with money.” Loki replied ignoring the indignant huff coming from the older man, and the amused chuckled from Wanda.

_________________________

The restaurant was almost empty.

There were a few empty tables in the back, the one you chose was perfect for a nice conversation by hiding you two away from imprudent ears. The place was cosy, with decorations of blue and green creating a magical atmosphere with the dim lights around the establishment and the sweet aroma of spices that made you remembered home. You sat down facing Wanda who was looking troubled at the moment.

The waitress dedicated you a timid smile while putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Welcome to the Sandwich Emporium, what can I get you today?” Her question was directed at you, and her eyes never even bothered to look away as you grabbed the menu she was offering.

“I’m not sure, what do you recommend?” You glanced at the menu then back at Wanda, the redhead was glaring at the menu pursing her lips lightly while you merely frowned.

“Well, that depends on what are you looking for,” her tone of voice didn’t leave anything to the imagination, and you couldn’t help but raise a single eyebrow at that. The young woman opened her eyes wide blushing profusely. “I mean…I…”

“She is having La Tricolore and I’m having La Tartuffo.” Wanda point two pictures on the menu, before handing it over to the waitress, her eyes gleaming strangely while you just blinked slightly confused. “And I’m having some water, and she is having a cappuccino.”

“Very well, I’ll be right back.” The young woman left rather quickly, her ears burning red after having come across the redhead.

You had your eyebrows raised glancing over at Wanda who was trying rally hard to ignore you. After a moment she finally let out a heavy sigh, her head turned away from you.

“La Tricolore has beef, cheese, some hazelnuts, and that pistachio cream you…” here Wanda trailed off opening her eyes when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, I…”

“I like it, sounds delicious.” You placed your hands on the table not really bothered by what had happened but rather confused. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“I never forget.” Wanda brushed her hair away lifting her face to finally lock her eyes with yours. “I always…remember, Y/N.”

“I remembered too, Wanda. I remembered everything.” You stated but whatever anger you had held it had given way to bitterness and sadness.

Wanda winced tapping on the table before wiggling her hands together.

“I…I never got to…” She tilted her head, and you could see the tears hidden behind those green eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It didn’t even cover what had happened, all the pain she had caused on that day. But those words made your soul tremble, you scoffed shaking your head leaning back on the seat.

“It is too late, don’t you think?” You could see your words hurt her, and everything you had lived up to that point came rushing in piling up inside your mind until you just put everything away and left what was important.

Wanda nodded defeated, “I know, I just…I never got to say it to you.”

But it wasn’t about asking for forgiveness, and you knew that. And Wanda was also well aware of the fact. The question was not about forgiveness, the question was if you could move forward after everything that had happened.

“I never got to say it, I messed up. I was so afraid, I just…I didn’t know what to do, how to react, how to…deal with everything.”

Wanda spoke with a clear desperation tinge in her words, you could see the crumbling behind her eyes, how her soul would tremble while trying to tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear ten years ago.

“Vision was convenient.” Wanda said, this time around she grabbed the seat tightly her body completely tensed making her neck hurt as she forced herself to keep her head up and look at you. “I was so afraid, so lost and…and It’s not an excuse! I deserve your hatred! I deserved your anger! I just…”

“You could have told me, you know?” You finally said when it was obvious Wanda couldn’t continue talking. “I was there for you, and I could have helped. I thought you trusted me but instead of telling me whatever was happening you…”

This was not the conversation the both of you were supposed to have, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be this way. You weren’t supposed to understand, but to stand your ground and tell Wanda how much of a bitch she had been. But the last couple of days had taught you something about yourself, about Wanda and what could have been. And if Wanda was confused you weren’t fairing any better.

“I know you don’t get it, and that’s okay because you grew with Natasha and then you have Fury and Maria and Yelena…” Wanda waved her hand weakly, her tears rolling down while her eyes revealed the deep sadness she had always carried with herself.

“I lost everything, and I didn’t know how to deal…and you were strong, and brave, you were not afraid of anything and I was only me.” Wanda broke into a sob, with a crooked smile that showed you just how broken she was. How lost she was still feeling.

“I…after it happened I never…” Wanda started but couldn’t finish, you perked up at her words because this was something you hadn’t bothered to find out.

“What happened after I left? Were you happy? Did he make you happy?” You didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but your words carry with them poison that you had been holding for far too long.

“I didn’t stay with him, Y/N. I tried to look for you, to reach out for you but…but I couldn’t and I didn’t stay with Vision, I didn’t feel anything I just… I messed up! Okay? That’s what I did, and I didn’t know how to make it better and I’ve been trying to be good to make it better all these years…”

You wouldn't know about that.

Just as she was trying to do some good, you were trying to forget. It was one of the reasons why you kept yourself out of everyone's business and dealt with the superhero work alone. When Tony and Steve got into that quarrel and you saw what happened back in Lagos you knew you had made the right decision. Then, everything became more complicated and you just busy yourself with other problems, always trying to keep the team away while trying to get glimpses of news about Wanda. You knew it had been hard for her, and you also knew she was never alone.

Vision.

That had always been the main issue, wasn't it?

“I was on the run with the others, but I just wanted to disappear. Vision…he was helping me with getting a new identity.” Wanda leaned back tilting her head to the wall to hide the tears rolling down her cheek.

It was an answer to an unasked question. The conversation died for a moment, the waitress eyed Wanda before offering a smile to you placing the different orders on the table.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, if there is anything I can do, I'm Anne.” The waitress offered one last smile walking backwards and then leaving you two alone.

The food smelled delicious; you grabbed your sandwich allowing Wanda the moment of privacy. The silence grew heavier just as you distracted yourself glancing around the place while taking another bite from your lunch.  

“I was just trying to live my life, and then when Thanos happened…” Wanda huffed turning to her food, she was no longer hungry if anything she wanted to disappear. 

Everything seemed so pointless, the look in your eyes would never leave, and she would go back to a world in which she was despised by the only woman she had ever been in love with.

“This is really delicious; you should try it.” You interrupted her, offering a full smile while grabbing another bite.

Wanda blinked confused; she kept her eyes on you then back on her food. For a brief moment, she hesitated, she was no longer hungry and if she were to be honest she felt tired. You took a sip from your cappuccino, placing your hand on the table, dangerously close to hers.

“I know you are hungry, Wanda. And I also know…I didn't want to know, but I get it.” You passed your hand on your hair pressing your back on the seat. “I'm tired of this, I just…”

“I can't take it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You crunched up your nose, Wanda lowered her eyes grabbing her food.

“As if I am nothing to you, as if you…you hate me and…”

She trailed off putting the food in her mouth and silencing her words. You frowned, pursing your lips while playing those words inside your head. 

“I don't hate you.” You softened your features, your eyes glistening under the weight of memories. “I could never hate you.”

Silence followed your statement, the shivering discomfort of what your words could mean infused the atmosphere with questions Wanda didn't dare to ask. You lowered your gaze and focused completely on the sandwich that was still on the plate, and for a good half hour that was all you and Wanda did. 

When there was nothing else coming in between the unfinished conversation, Wanda put her hands on the table her eyes down casted. This was actually the very first time the both of you came face to face without anyone or anything coming in between. It was a confrontation you never thought would happen about something you had always imagined. It always came with different scenarios, but the outcome had always been the same. With you finally finding peace and never looking back, and with Wanda filled with regret for what she had lost.

This conversation though was completely different. You lifted your face finding those green eyes staring back at you with longing and a deep sadness that had become characteristic of Wanda. 

“How did you end up in Westview?” The question rolled out of your lips with a hint of bitterness you could not hide.

Wanda winced playing the napkin on the table, you waited until the woman started talking again.

“I found the box you hid in your room back at the Avenger's compound.” She stated simply, her lips breaking into a grimace. “I never…after you left I never went back there until after the battle with Thanos and Steve’s funeral.”

Your eyes opened lightly in realisation; you remembered the box in which you had hidden the future you hoped to share with Wanda. The ring, the map, and the picture…everything made sense now; now you understood why Wanda had chosen that place and how everything had fit at one point or another. The only thing that was out of place had been Vision, your expression hardened and Wanda could tell you were thinking about Westview the life she had created there.

“I never thought of him, you know? I went there because I wanted to…” Wanda snorted lifting her face to the ceiling, her voice trembling under the weight of the memories. “I wanted to understand, and in a way, I wanted to find a way to go back to you. Not as…I mean, I wanted to at least be…be your friend.”

You shifted on the chair hearing as Wanda finally tell you her part of the story, how she had been completely alone after coming back from the Blip. Steve’s funeral showed her just how alone she was, and how lost she really felt; she didn’t have a work or a home or even family and friends. She spent her time driving around until she decided to ask for help and went to the only person she could think of: Tony.

In all this time you could see the story behind her eyes, you could read the suffering and the deep sadness in the gestures and the words that carried with them the flashbacks of those days in which you were ignorant of Wanda’s fate.

“I went there to punish myself.” Wanda broke into a bitter smile, “I guess I did a good job.”

“Wanda…” You started but the words tangled in your throat, the other woman waited expectantly but after a moment her face fell.

“You don’t have to…”

“You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.” You frowned lowering your gaze to the empty dishes on the table, you were fully aware of her eyes on you. “All this time, isolating yourself while unable to reach out to anyone…then, finding yourself in Westview with this Agatha…”

Wanda swallowed down her tears, she was trembling with a flame of hope flickering inside her heart. Wanda knew she had created the world around Westview, she knew that her isolation and her grief had broken out into an explosion of her magic to create a reality she could deal with. But she also knew her magic had been tampered with, and her illusion had been corrupted.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” She whispered with her hands grabbing the chair tightly, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

You nodded standing up while making your way to where she was sitting, you offered your hand though your face never changed. For a brief moment, Wanda hesitated, she glanced at your hand and then with a trembling hand accepted it.

“They do look like us, you know?” You stated flatly, your hand warm against hers.

Wanda furrowed her brows, her tears rolling down her cheeks but her eyes gleaming in confusion.

“Why?”

“Billy and Tommy.” You stated simply. “They do look like us.”

_______________________________________

That night you sat right outside the house.

Music and conversation could be heard in the backyard, with the lights of the kitchen projecting shadows on the grass. The sky above hour head was still showered with white dots that resulted familiar yet so different to what you were used to; the air was cold but nothing you couldn’t take in a night like that one.

You took a deep breath filling your lungs with cold air, inside your mind thoughts came crashing down into a myriad of possibilities and plans yet to be executed. The conversation with Wanda had gone unexpectedly well, yet you knew a lot of things needed to be done and said before things would be okay.

“Aren’t you a little cold out here?” America crunched up her nose trying to balance the two glasses she was carrying with her.

You turned to her, chuckling before stretching a little to help her out.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a part of this great celebration?”

America shrugged offering a tiny smile, “the twins are distracted with Wanda, both of them, and the rest is just chattering around.”

“So you decided to come to me?” You shook your head taking a sip from the beverage the young woman had brought with her. “You’re crazy.”

“Not as crazy as you are.” America wrapped her hands around the glass eyeing you out of the corner of her eyes. “How are you?”

“I guess I’m okay, how about you?” You pointed with your head to the house behind you, “this is what you missed, isn’t it? Now that you are back, well…”

America nodded turning her body to yours, “I feel happy, but I also feel lost. I know that I found them again, and I have so many possibilities right now, I just…”

 “Don’t know what to do?” You asked, America shrugged lowering her eyes.

“I’m finally starting to understand my powers and to get some control over them, if I keep working on them I would be able to travel without getting lost.” America let out a sigh dropping her shoulders, “those are a lot of possibilities and right now I think I need stability and keep learning.”

“Wise words, you have grown some, kiddo.” You bumped against her shoulder; the young woman blushed lightly offering a timid smile. “It may take time, but I’m pretty sure you will learn to control them.”

None of you mentioned the possibility of America finding her way back home, while it was an option it didn’t mean that America would find it once she had some control on her abilities. But for now, the young woman was happy to learn more about her powers and herself, her heart and soul finally finding a place she could call home.

“You don’t mind me coming back with you and Wanda?” America finally asked biting her lower lip while taking the last sip of her drink to her lips.

“No, I think it’s going to be fun.” You replied glancing at the young woman, “but I have to tell you right now, the training is going to be brutal.”

“I didn’t expect anything else.”

You chuckled nodding, “good.”

America straightened up tilting her head to glance at you then back at the house. You knew what the question was she wanted to ask, but you didn’t rush it.

“Are you and Wanda going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” The honesty with which you answered that surprised even you, you turned to America with a serious face. “I’m not sure what would happen, America, but I guess I’m willing to find out.”

“That’s good, right?”

You shrugged, and the young woman went back to rest her head on your shoulder still highly confused by your answer. The sound of laughter, music and conversation filling out the sudden silence that embrace the both of you, your thoughts coming back to Wanda and the day you had spent with her.

Only time would tell what would happen next, and you were waiting anxiously what would happen next.

_______________________________

Billy and Tommy were talking non-stop, they were excited showing Wanda the latest project they had been working on back at school. The young woman could hardly hold her tears while letting her children talk to her about school and their lives as if she had always been there.

At first, it had hurt.

Wanda knew they were not hers, and yet she couldn’t help but love them and see them with the same eyes she had seen the twins back in her universe. A part of her never thought she would see Billy and Tommy again, the moment the illusion had fallen around her and she discovered what she had done to Westview she knew there wouldn’t be a way for her to recover her children.

Yet here they were.

 In another world, in another universe looking the same as she had imagined them once.

This time around everything was as it was supposed to be, with you by her side raising two children being a happy family.  A part of Wanda felt envy for everything her counterpart had and she couldn’t have.

“Are you sure you can’t have a family of your own?”

Wanda huffed turning to the source of the voice, her counterpart stood right beside her with softened eyes staring at the twins that were getting ready for bed. Wanda dropped her arms to her sides, her eyes glancing back into the room then back to the woman standing beside her.

“I’m pretty sure, she…” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself furrowing her brows, “she doesn’t love me anymore. I am nothing more than…and ally, and even that would be to stretch out our relationship.”

The other Wanda pursed her lips, she stepped closer never letting go of those green eyes she was so familiar with.

“You don’t believe that.” Wanda stated holding back a smile when the other woman stepped back scowling.

“I have to believe it, I can’t…” Wanda sighed lifting her chin to the ceiling holding back her weakness, she didn’t want the twins to see her cry. “I have to believe it or I will break my heart once more and I can’t lose control of my magic, I…last time it didn’t go well.”

The room filled with laughter, Billy ran to the bed jumping up and down with Tommy trying to follow up before falling down on his face. Wanda couldn’t help but gasp ready to help out but stopping when a gentle hand wrapped tenderly on her forearm. It was strange to see herself staring at her looking the same yet being so different than she was.

The twins were back in the game, falling on bed while discussing some subject Wanda couldn’t hear pretty well. The fall was soon forgotten and both of them were ready to go to sleep.

“Go on, you can put them to be and I will wait for you here.”

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered to her counterpart entering the room and going to Billy first.

The woman offered a shaky smile, her trembling hand brushing away his dark hair while her lips curved into a smile. Billy smiled back blinking slowly.

“Are you okay, mom?”

Wanda nodded leaning in placing a single kiss on his forehead, “more than okay, Billy. Have a good night, baby.”

“Good night, mommy.”

Then, Wanda went to Tommy who was looking at her differently, he wrapped his arms around her hugging her tightly and this time around she couldn’t help but cry.

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Tommy, now go to sleep.” Once more she placed a kiss on Tommy’s forehead and with that she stepped back walking towards the door. “Sleep well, guys.”

“Night, mom!”

The door close behind her, and Wanda stood there allowing herself the goodbye she had longed to have with the twins. She tried to give the right closure to her emotions knowing full well she would go back a world in which she would be all alone. No twins, no Y/N, only her.

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered locking her eyes with those of her counterpart, the other woman nodded curtly.

“I knew it was important for you.” The woman hesitated for a moment before continuing, “but you shouldn’t lose any hope, Wanda. You and Y/N…”

“Don’t, please.” Wanda said softly. “Don’t give me hope, don’t tell me it is possible because…god, I’ve been breaking my heart over and over again and I just…I can’t take it anymore.”

“Then don’t let it go, don’t let it go without a fight.”

Wanda lifted her face to see her counterpart dead serious, the woman came closer wrapping her hands on her forearms making sure Wanda could not look away.

“You love her, and I am pretty sure she loves you as well, whatever happened in the past it shall stay there.” Wanda then softened letting go of her grip. “Don’t give up just yet, you may be surprised.”

Wanda wanted to talk, she wanted to believe but at the moment she was just tired and overwhelmed by everything that had happened, everything she had lived up to that point. She was overwhelmed by the fact that you were so close to her yet so far away, that she would go back to a world in which the twins were not there and she would be, once more, alone.

________________________________________

It was a sunny day.

America went over the contents of her backpack, her body was tingling all over while a void filled with butterflies settled in her lower abdomen. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath, her hands trembling while she secured the zipper on the backpack.

“You look nervous, you know you don’t have to go, right?” Y/N came into the room glancing around before settling her eyes on America, the young woman turned around offering a tiny smile.

“I know.” She replied shrugging, her hands played with the band on her wrist she tried to look everywhere but at Y/N but at the end of the day she couldn’t help it, she lifted her face and let the tears fall down.

“I’m sorry.” America whispered waiting for a recrimination on her part, for Y/N to finally tell her how bad she had messed up the first time she had fallen on their Universe.

But it never came, nor from her or Wanda, or anyone for that matter. America surrendered to the warm embrace of Y/N’s arms, she let the tears and sobs she had been holding to scape and finally liberated her mind of the guiltiness she had been feeling all this time.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” Y/N whispered soothingly her hand drawing circles with a half-smile showing on her face.

“I just…I shouldn’t have run the way I did, I should have fight or something.” America replied, leaning back, she was furrowing her brows while lifting her hands. “I could have stayed and helped around.”

“It wasn’t optional, though. You had to keep going to survive, that’s rule number one in this line of work, America.” Y/N put her hands on her pockets, her hair falling to the side with an easy smile adorning her lips. “You did what you have to at that point and no one should ever blame you for that. If it hadn’t been that way well, I wouldn’t be here telling the story.”

America doubted very much that it would have happened in such a way, but she would never really know it for certain. Ever since she started travelling through universes consciously she had learnt to deal with the different realities, trying to adapt to them and survive them. She never thought she would settle in a single universe, much less that she would get attach to the people in it.

The sound of conversation broke the sudden silence in the room, the twins laughing with Pietro and Wanda yelling for everyone to go to the backyard was the signal America had been waiting for. She stepped closer to give Y/N one last hug.

“Thank you for everything you did for me, Y/N. I couldn’t say this the last time due to the circumstances…”

“Us running for our lives?” Y/N chimed in chuckling, America snorted rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, that, I mean you guys received me in your home and gave me a chance to a family, I just..I will always carry that with me.”

Y/N softened while giving the teen another hug, “anytime kid, you are welcome in our household whenever you decided to come back.”

“I know, I just think I am needed it elsewhere.”

“I think so to.” Y/N stepped back glancing to the open door. “Watch over them, make sure that they are okay.”

“I will.” America smiled grabbing her backpack ready to go.

It was almost midday by the time America and Y/n came out of the house.

The backyard was full with Tony and Loki working around the logistics and the twins just running around between the two Wanda’s and everyone else. You stood by the garden, the conversation that Loki was having with Tony, Wong, Hank and America had lost all meaning as you entertained yourself with the last sight of the world that could have been. Your body was completely tensed, your eyes drifting around until they fell on the form of Wanda, your Wanda.

“Are you ready?” Y/N asked, you turned to her shaking your head.

“Were you?”

“No, I was never ready whenever she was around.” Y/N replied shrugging, “but once we had made our mind there was nothing that could stop us.”

You snorted nodding, “that’s right.”

“Are you going to fight?” Y/N stepped closer, her eyes going from you to Wanda then back again.

“I am going to make things right, I’m not sure if they will end up the same way it did here.” You replied placing your hands inside your pockets. “I guess only time will tell.”

Y/N nodded stretching her right hand to you, an easy smile forming on her lips.

“I hope everything goes well for you and Wanda, Y/N, just remember what’s really important.” Y/N said grabbing your hand with a friendly squeezed. “Please, be happy.”

“Protect them and be for them whenever they need you.” You replied squeezing back.

“I will.”

“Well, I guess we can try the portal once more, are you guys ready? Did you say your good-byes?” Tony clapped before rubbing his hands, everyone went to get in position until the cries of two boys reached them over.

Tommy and Billy came running with Wanda following them close behind, Billy went directly to Wanda wrapping his arms around her while Tommy went to you.

“I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled looking up at you.

You chuckled ruffling his hair playfully, “I doubt it, pal. You have your mom’s here, but I am gonna miss you.”

“Say hi to your Tommy for me, please? Tell him he has the best mom in the whole universe!”

Those words pierced deeply inside your heart, but the innocence and the smile in Tommy’s face made you held back any reaction that wasn’t one of agreement.

“I will, Tommy, be good.”

At the other side of the yard Wanda and Billy were having a similar conversation, Wanda hugged him tightly before trying to let go. Billy called to her, looking around before wrapping his arms around Wanda’s neck, his lips close to her ear.

“Everything is gonna be okay, mommy, don’t worry, mom will come around.” Billy offered a toothy grin to Wanda who was too shocked to talk. “say hi to your billy for me, love you mom!”

Wanda watched as Billy joined his brother right beside their mother, Wanda locked eyes with her counterpart who offered a half smile and a vision Wanda Maximoff would not talk about until several years later. For now, she was just filled with doubts, and hopes, and uncertainties and soon Wanda was drowned by the voices surrounding her.

“Okay, this shouldn’t be that difficult, everyone remembers their roles?” Loki asked once more standing to the side while pointing at America who rolled her eyes.

“I do, I remember.”

“Good, because if you fail the three of you are going to be traveling around without a proper destination and probably die a horrible dead.”

“That’s so comforting, Loki.” You replied rolling your eyes. 2Stop scaring America and do your job.”

Loki rolled his eyes flickering his hands while putting the golden book out of thin air, he sat down crossing his legs while looking to an invisible spot in front of him.

“Very well, your timeline is not that hard to find, it is the only one with a latent anomaly.”

“How can you tell is ours and not a random one?”

Loki glared at you before going back to his work, “I can sense it, and this one lack something, it is missing something, I guess that would be both of you.”

Soon everyone was taking positions, Wanda stood beside you shifting from one foot to the other, her hands wiggling nervously while she tried to keep her eyes right ahead of herself. You could sense her uneasiness, her hands twitching biting her lower lip. America came forward, she was showing off a frown filled with confusion that Tony helped erased with a whispered explanation.

You eyed Wanda out of the corner of your eyes, the woman was completely tensed still bouncing trying to hold onto something but unable to find herself at ease. You doubted it for a moment before you grabbed her hand in yours.

Her hand was warm and soft, at first she was completely tensed and rigid but as soon as she sensed it was you her hand started to relax and give in the feeling.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You whispered; Wanda offered a smile nodding.

“I know.” Wanda knew that as long as you kept holding her hand everything would be okay, she didn’t dare to say anything else but in a bold move she spread her fingers and soon her hand was intertwined with yours.

You jerked around but Wanda was completely focused on America, after a moment of hesitation you straightened up frowning lightly though your hand clasped tenderly Wanda’s hand.

“Okay, it was nice meeting you all, now let’s begin.” Loki closed his eyes and soon the golden light of his magic started gleaming powerfully forming a tight circle that surrounded you and Wanda alongside America.

America could feel the power, she was sensing it through her muscles and her fingertips while her mind became a mask of pure blankness trying to form an idea. She remembered the lesson, to follow the magic around her while also joining her energy with that of Wanda and Y/N, her power running through her arm in electric jolts and then igniting her eyes until she was finally ready to make it explode.

Pulling her arm back, closing her fist America stretched her arm hitting the space in between her and the backyard creating an explosion in the form of a Star. The portal opened until it was as big as America, you peeked in watching the white plains of Norway, or at least that was what you thought.

With a last glance to your counterpart and Wanda, you squeezed the hand you were holding tenderly.

“Ready?” It was all you could say before the young woman nodded and with a single step she dragged you right through the portal.

The world you three had left behind was waiting for you.

And you were not sure what would happen next, the only thing you knew for certain was that you didn’t want to let go of the hand holding yours.

The portal closed behind the three of you leaving everyone behind with many questions and little to no answers.

Billy and Tommy hugged Wanda still glancing the place where the portal had been moments ago. The woman glanced at her children knowing there was something bothering greatly.

“Mommy, do you think they will love us?” Tommy asked lifting his face to Wanda, Wanda furrowed her brows tilting her head.

“What do you mean, baby?”

Billy scrunched up his nose, “You think they will love Billy and Tommy the way you love us?”

Wanda softened at the question; she knelt in front of her boys not really knowing how to explain that in their world they both didn’t even exist.

“Billy, I’m pretty sure that they would be very lucky to have children like the both of you, and they would absolutely love you very much.” This answer seemed to satisfy the boys, and just when Wanda thought the topic was over Tommy talked again.

“They are gonna love us very much, mommy.” Tommy smiled snugging closer to Wanda. “Just like they love one another very much, that’s how you and mommy made us, right?”

Wanda didn’t answer, but a part of her certainly hope that Tommy was not wrong. She had always hoped that her love for you would survive in every universe, Wanda lifted her face to see Y/N looking at her with tenderness and love, and Wanda knew right there and then that her counterpart would be okay.

You never stopped looking at her like that, you just learnt how to hide it pretty well.

You were still pretty much in love with your Wanda.

And now that you were gone with her, only time would tell if love was still possible.

Wanda sighed wishing you would let go of your resentment and doubts and give yourself and her counterpart a chance.

With a last glance to the space where you and the others had been standing, Wanda turned around hopeful that the past would stay in the past.

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

Next Chapter: You are finally back to your universe, everything seems surreal as you and the others are taken to interrogation rooms before resuming your normal lives. Carol doesn't want to leave your side, and Wanda knows she needs to step aside even though that's the last thing she wants to do.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly (M6 Drabbles): To be loved is to be ...

Valued. Julian knows it's a bit callous of him to claim that nobody has ever valued him, when even the people he's hurt the most deeply still can't keep themselves from wanting to save him. But you're the first person who's somehow gotten that message past his poor self-esteem. Without any excuses to shelve your love onto - you're my family, you have to feel that way, I was your friend, you'd feel guilty if you didn't, you saved me once, so you're obliged to do it again - the only explanation he can accept from you is the one you give him.

So when you hold him and keep holding him when he's convinced he doesn't have anything worthwhile to offer you except himself, he has to believe he's valued. By you. And god, what a thought that is.

Known. After years of being your home, Asra knows you like the back of their hand. But for the past three years - and for most of their life, if they're being honest - their greatest safety was their capacity to be unknowable. Unreadable. Mysterious and unpredictable. Nobody was ever allowed into his heart as more than a guest, and until he unconditionally handed half of it over to you as yours, nobody ever had a claim to it. But now you've come fully into your own, and you're part of their life on equal footing, and secrets are foolish now.

You know everything about him - how he likes his tea, the minute shifts in your bond with his every fleeting emotion, the way his "impossible" brain thinks - and it's okay because it's you. You're home.

Uplifted. Nadia is a born and nurtured leader. As the youngest in a family of them, she watched and learned from a leadership style that focused on building things up - and then she married someone who tore her down instead, along with an entire city's populace. Waking up to a city in ruins and a council of sabotage and not a single memory of any nearby friends did not help the parts of her that could use some building up. How was she supposed to lay solid foundations when she felt like she was crumbling? Until you, that is.

You see her weaknesses and immaturities and inexperience and your response is to support her. You comfort her when she's discouraged and encourage her when she's fearful. You build her up.

Protected. As loathe as he is to admit it, Muriel's done more than his fair share of protecting those he cares about. From his time in the Coliseum, to his escape from the Coliseum, to his watchful nurture in the woods, many of his biggest changes happened to protect another life. He never got his hopes up for someone who'd see him, all 6'10, grouchy, seemingly indestructible roughness of him, and want to protect him. People like him don't get to have things like softness, and warmth, and hearty meals that make you sleepy-safe.

You don't agree. You see the fearful, anxiety-ridden child in his eyes when a crowd gets too big or a stranger gets too loud, and you take care of it. You protect him. You show him what "safe" feels like.

Seen. Counting every time she's been overlooked for someone else's sake is the fastest way to send Portia spiraling into uncharacteristic depression. The worst part is that she always ended up going along with it, overlooking herself in the process. Her brother needed a stable sister. The grandmas needed an extra pair of hands. Her brother needed a stable sister, again. The Palace needed someone to keep watch over the Countess. The Countess needed a handmaiden. So, you ... what kind of invisible do you need her to be, for you?

Except that you wanted her to be loud. You wanted her to be visible. You wanted her to talk about herself, for once. You're the first main character she's on equal footing with, and you see each other.

Changed. Lucio is not used to changing. He was raised to see it as a sign of weakness - one moment of compromising your own goals, one moment of failing to commit, and you're as good as dead. So he as a teenager, filled with feelings of betrayal and abandonment, decided exactly who he wanted to be and stuck to the bit. Too many deals, several battlefields, a lethal plague, a Coliseum, countless crimes, and a few decades later, Lucio found as good as dead anyways. Until you happened. With a new goal to commit to.

Somehow changing for you (as vulnerable as it is) doesn't feel weak. Every moment that he struggles out of another habit, he finds you in a new space full of gentle pleasures his teenaged self never imagined.

[someweirdoreblogger]

Eternal Sugar Cookie feels, to me, an emotionally deprived type; a Beast straved of total control, one to so slowly and yet much further isolate you all sugar-worn with tender love-pink guise. Her ardor is a monsterous obsession wrapped in pretty bows and diamonds.

Eternal Sugar Cookie is a very silent, subtle influence at first;

That sinking anchor of annoyed resentment in the dark pit of your stomach?

That crawling absence, the shallow emptiness that swallows you whole, in a single moment, after every effort to get right back up again despite whats at stake?

That deafening ignorance disgused as content, indifferent consideration of any action or consequence?

That's her presence, a raising boiling hot deviance. A festering stubborn pressure made apparent inside the private inner bowels of your heart. Already, she attaches with no intention of harmony. Like a virus, she rots away your best mental defenses, growing like a tumor. Eating away at the most delicate parts of you.

Eternal Sugar Cookie was baked knowing what she most wanted, what precisely she craves in eager proportions. The Beast of Sloth won't allow balance or peace until you dismantle into pieces in her grasp. Tangled up in her deranged thorns, nice and tight with no hope of escape; Your new home, in her graceless nest of corrupted nimbus, nefarious vapors whispering false assurance and security.

You'd be surprised at just how fast she can steal the very oxygen in your lungs, all in a blink, as naturally fleeting as a droplet in a lake; Someone who can effortlessly order the natural cycle of air with a twitch of a picky to simply cease, that can touch the souls of other weaker wills without so much as moving an inch themselves.

She carelessly strips the tranquility, meaning, any definition from your most basic tasks, no choice in the matter, you won't know until it's too late to mourn those you distance yourself from. No one is safe. To grief where that familiar spark had gone; that you don't have the energy to entertain toward what you once knew and dearly loved, such precious time could be spent amongst better company.

Time is of the essence, especially for Cookiekind. You will pull the switch any second now. It won't be long before the flightless bird of her betrothed walks upon the line of separation between earth and sky, accepting the palm that covets their attention and volition.

Eternal Sugar Cookie is an overconfident sort, aloof and arrogant in her powess. She is quite certain of the outcome. Her kingdom is the right choice. She knows you best after all.

Your companionships and relationship to the outside world, as well as the inside, are nothing more than simple fleeting leaves, vulnerable against the harsh strife and fairness of nature. Prey in the eyes of beasts.

Physical mortal foundations aren't of use to her, of no effort, nor bother. So, logically, you shall lose it.

You, the source of Eternal Sugar Cookie's attention, must sacrifice yourself to her ambition; open yourself up in her kingdom, and indulge in sweetest indolence. Let her devour your pride. Eternal Sugar Cookie's bed is your heart, your soul, her precious possession. There stands no wall she can't phase through, no lock she can't break, no void she can't breach, pirvacy is non-existent. Closed rooms are a no-go.

You are hoarded, not allowed to stray from her gaze. While Eternal Sugar Cookie can help it, there is no fair fight.

Your pitiful pillars of support will eventually crumble. The walls shall stress; an agonizing tension and strain. They suffer great, horrific collision once your friendly little fledglings start putting their noses where they don't belong.

Eternal Sugar Cookie listens to no plea. She rips you apart from it in each matter, regardless of importance. Clean, cut, and dry.

In every physical and mental capacity, she will break the ties stubbornly binding your morality and petty mortal obligation, and the irony shall be lost to her.

From your society, childhood home, family. To Eternal Sugar Cookie, this is child's play. Her tumor will gentle put a haze over your eyes to effectively minimize your lively priorities and responsibilities til they inevitably shrivel like weeds and die into spiritual as well as emotional insignificance. Extended to your own youth and soul.

Severity; to let go of that burdensome weight, to feel light enough to let go of all else that binds you to your feeble Cookie existence, to just continue to be and sleep comfortably til the Sun, at last, dies and reaps everything with it. To fall so deep, dream so soundly that nothing matters to you anymore but to shut yourself off completely and utterly in the dark paradise of her promising embrace.

Asleep forever, in a fragile moment that stretches into dreamy nothingness, lids glued shut. Locked in the sealed halo of her interlocking fingers, fluttering like butterfly wings over delicate lashes, consistently prying curious divots in your crust. She sings you hymns, hushed; muttering, muttering, and still muttering.

No direction. Aimlessly drifting in silken-kissed fine laced illusion of possessive freedom, a white lie forged in a sleep like dead peace; frozen still as stone under the crude gaze of time, the threat of great cataclysmic collapse. Hopelessly trapped, locked, and no key. Inside your own deluded vortex of sloth and sinking fear, safely far away from the frantic worrying eyes and reaching hands of fellow Cookie friends and family, willing to run themselves to completely crumbs for a goal, they shouldn't even bother covetting.

What's the point?

Why should you care? It's all for not.

She has you right where she desires you. Right where it all feels as it should be. Eternal Sugar Cookie fogged your mind more than you will ever comprehend, and Eternal Sugar Cookie can ensure your compliance in any daring state. She will ensure personally, insisting you have always been this way, you merely needed to finally notice. That it's easier to simply embrace it, nothing more or less.

Poor you, trying so hard for absolutely nothing.

Why rush home when your beloved Kingdom won't even miss you anyway?

They won't even notice you've vanished. The night is tranquil. It seems to blend you in reckless abandon, leaving no room for space in her endless ether of blissful cloud and swirling fog; lost between the sweet rolls of twisting trees, risklessly coated by the primordial solitude of lazy mist, her hands will fly to hold you, to finally have you. This world has no use for you.

Nor do you yourself have attachments to the world itself, despite the screaming echo crawling and squirm like gummy worms at the back of your head.

Who cares about such careless opinions?

Clenching and still yet clenching, she broods like a proud mantis; caresses and touches you in off-handed strokes.

By the time you ascended above the mountains towards the Heavens with her, you have successfully shut out all your connections and motivations to the land below. The immortal mark potent from The Beast of Sloth is remarkable and undeniable, a divine certainty Eternal Sugar Cookie is obsessively determined to imprint for all eternity on your crust.

Here, in your own secluded area in her personal harmony of Sky what else could you ever want, what useless ambition could you ever hope for?Stuck in a blind dream where she regins supreme, so the insignificant distractions of the material Cookie world can never take you away from her.

Below, your dear kindred can never hope to see you ever again.

And if all comes up to Eternal Sugar Cookie's accursed fruition-

-you won't desire to return.

Because where in the world could you possibly want to bother going?

[p-h-a-n-t-a]

I tend to fixate on evan as a character at times because his whole shtick is that hes mysterious and has issues tm, but also because i have also been the haunted (literally spoke to ghosts as a child) ass white kid (white) suffering from food insecurity (yall ever have a mustard sandwich, its bread heels with mustard on them. Thats how i learned to like mustard.) So i relate to him quite a bit.

But, i cant help but be deeply curious about the other misfits and their lives, struggles, and their mysteries.

I frequently work with kids like Jammer (ive been christened with a nickname by middleschoolers. Its Shawty DooBop. Im glad its that and not "that mean ass librarian") and I wonder what his life is like on a day to day basis. Did he pick his sister up from her after school program? How long has he been writing? A lot of kids I know, no matter how much they like the sports they play, were originally put into them by parents hoping they could be something great, but what would he want to be if he wanted to be something different? Did he ever read the maximum ride series? Does he actually like dragon ball Z or is it more of a cultural osmosis thing?

K is deeply relatable to me on a number of levels (nonbinary tumblrina) but also deeply alien. Do they talk to their family at all? Do they feel remorse for cyber bullying people over steven universe? Do they get mad at themself when they have to remember people cant just be tropes, they also have to be people? Even themself? When will they go to therapy????

Sam black, britain, butler my beloved. Fellow child of divorce, how much did that influence your comunication? How long has being an influencer been her focus? Does she actually want to inluence, or does she just want friends? She struggled in school, did anyone ever try to help? Would it have been better or worse to be on an iep plan? Does she still talk to her family much now that shes famous, is it out of love, or out of that family wanting her support and her energy? How has T2 stayed a teacup pig? Those usually grow into potbelly pigs of some sort. Does she feel like her magic has actually hampered her ability to connect with others because she is so easily liked? What were the sailor moon forums like, what happened after your pink pal stopped liking pink?

Also to the magic mommy of all time, what was Bombini's life like? A 600+ year old wizard who seems to have lost everything dear to him and is upholding the memory of people long lost built on foundations that were crumbling from the start. Dudes middle name is kyle. He seems like a paralell to our sad ass white boy, if they had decided to uphold the nature of magic and the old ways, would evan have become like him? A shuffling, sad, impossibly old steward? Also whats happening on tadershacourt. Whos the shadow man with Khan.

God i have so many questions, im deeply glad misfits and magic got a season 2 but i do think it has just given me more to be insane about. I managed this with only 4 eps and a holiday special, im gonna explode. Truely the tumblr coded series of all time.

[chilahh16]

" This is where I leave you."

People say that the hardest thing in love is seeing the love of your life happy with another. They're not so wrong. However, they also failed to tell others that leaving the very person that has became your world, the very air you breath, and the reason for sunshine in the morning is painstakingly arduous and painful.

If only she was given a heads-up, she would have held on tightly as the foundation of their love crumble as every season pass.

Y/n L/n did not know when everything started to change. When the colors so vivid started to dim and the love as red as his dream car faded. She can still remember the very first time she held his hand, the first hugs, kiss, and the first of everything. She and Charles loved each other as if the love they have is the only right thing there is. Maybe it is at one point. Because looking back, she came to realize that she had become a liability to him.

As Charles Leclerc continue to soar in the world of racing, Y/n felt that she has been holding him down - stopping him from reaching his true potential. They are two worlds completely differing each other. As he stands and bask in the spotlight, she found peace in the shadows. They walk in fame and peace, separately, and that's when the support she had been giving was not enough, no more. That even when their love clings on to the hope that this can be overcome just like the other times it did, it seemed that their love has its limit. From the whispers of people to the unending hungry stares of women wanting a piece of him, as though he is a prize in a game, caused cracks in their hardened relationship that stood proudly with time.

Y/n loved him too much that she stood by him. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, and to the most painful of times. She was beside him when Jules passed; she became his rock and comfort. Even that was not enough for the world is cruel. It did not give their love time to blossom beautifully, it withered and died unwittingly.

Now, 6 years later, everything has changed so as everyone. But it seemed he did not. Looking as the blazing red car seamlessly turn and sped off to the finish line, proved her theory. His dream still stand firm and she was grateful she was there to witness as he stands victorious in his home race. Maybe everything did not change, because if it is, then it wouldn't hurt this much. The memories of the past still fresh in her mind - his tear stained face, the broken sobs and the tight arms that envelop her, haunted her for years and it was at this moment that she felt its full force. A wave of nausea hit her as she stands looking up at her past love. She could no longer stop the tears as she sobbed and held her chest as he proudly give honor to Jules and Herve above.

'He did it Jules, Herve. He conquered Monaco and they love him back.'

Hence, she turned her back one last time. Just like she did all those years ago. How she broke his heart and left him to pick up the pieces. But leaving him today hurts so much more as she made peace with the truth. This will be the end of their story. Every step away from him tore her further as finally she lets go of the past, of him.

"How can you be so selfish?"

Y/n stood stuck as the ever familiar voice laced with a thick accent reverberated in her ears. It couldn't be right?

"How dare you come here and leave again." It was no question as his voice is laced with venom.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." was the only thing that came to y/n's lips as her hands found comfort in them. She cannot face him. Could not. Would not.

"Did you really think it was that easy. Do you take me as a fool to just forgive you?" Charles growled as he view the figure of the woman he had loved in the past.

"Look at me and tell me why you did it." he yelled as he felt his heart constrict.

Charles Leclerc thought that he was over the past. That he had buried everything to the deepest parts of his memories. That he had already forgotten the shape of her face, her infectious smile, and everything good about her. How selfish can she be coming today and showing her face to him like nothing happened? How dare she cry as he triumph? How dare his heart skip a beat upon seeing her.

The man that he became is someone he does not even recognize. The podiums, the wins, the praises, everything felt like a buzz in his ears. He could not feel himself again. Upon picking up the pieces of him that was left after her ruthless goodbye, he has learned to close his heart. Every relationship after her was for a naught when every peaceful nights, her face is the one he sees as was every waking dawn. He tried to move on, to forget everything about her but it was hard. So hard that no matter the pain she gave, his heart still beats for her only.

And seeing her today, just proved it. He did not care about the win at all, he knows that he made his father and godfather proud. It was because of them that he was able to race but, it was she that became his driving force to continue. And when she left, the world stopped.

"Look at me." he pressed as he held his anger. Afraid that he would lash out in front of millions.

But he did not care. He wanted to know what happened. Why she left as if he was no more than a stranger. He give no mind to the eyes that follow his and her every move. To all the rumors and backlash be damned. He needed this after all this years.

Slowly but surely, he found his forest colored orbs trained to the eyes that held warmth from before. He was now met with the face of the person he had laid his heart to.

" Charlie, I'm so sorry..."

" Don't!... don't call me that. You have no right."

" Brother, not here. Please." Arthur begged as he held his older brother. Reminding him that all of Monaco has their eyes trained on them, that the camera has panned to their stature when Charles ran down the podium after the anthem was over. The festive circuit has quieten, nervously awaiting the scene to unfold. People of the world are waiting as the race was aired live.

" No. I need to know, 'Tur." Charles, ever stubborn, state as he stepped closer to Y/n, causing the woman to panic further.

" Arthur's right. Not here, please." Y/n stuttered as she felt every eyes on her frame. Mocking and judging her.

" What do you know about what's right. You left remember. You left me to die. You're. selfish."

" Stop. Please..."

" No! Not until you tell me why you did it."

"Just stop. Please stop."

" Then tell me!"

" I was scared!" Y/n yelled as the tears streamed unending. She has finally done it. If this is the last time, then let it be done with.

" After Jules' death, I came to realize that it could happen to you anytime. No matter how careful you are, there is no guarantee that you would come out unscathed. Every time you drive that car, I pray to God, to every force that is listening to protect you because I cant!"

" When Jules was on his deathbed, no one but me and your family saw how you seem to die with him. Yes, I vowed to be with you always. But if being with you meant that every second of every season you race meant death is upon you, how can I have the strength to be strong and be able to stay."

Charles was left dumbfounded. He did not know. Why didn't you tell him. He would have understood. He was ready to give up everything for her, even the sport he loves.

"I can't have you give up racing because of me. I don't want you to resent me in the long run. If breaking both our hearts mean you'll be able to race and win, then it was worth it." Y/n finished as she hung her head low.

She has finally said it. All those years of torment, of heartache, of everyday wanting to go back and apologize was not for nothing. Both of them can finally move on as the truth was laid bare for everyone to see.

" How..." Charles started, not knowing what to say. The anger that made home to his heart was easily melted by knowing the truth. If only he had known, he would have never stopped looking for her, never stopped trying to win her again.

What was the point of this 'what if's' now that she has clearly moved on. But he is not Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc for nothing. No matter what, he'll try and try up until he triumph. Hence, he steeled himself, ready for what was to come next.

"Why are you worrying of the things that has yet to happen?" he started moving much closer to the woman he has always love.

" Please, don't do that. Just because of what happened before does not mean that it will happen now."

" You can never guarantee that. I cannot have y-"

" Y/n, look at me." Charles softly cradled her face, wiping the unending tears and soothing the chaos that is her mind.

" The things that has yet to happen does not dictate for us to lose hope. To be broken and sad. Why can't we worry about it when it happens? We'll worry about it when it comes. We'll cry when we're there. "

" No, Charles. Listen to me. You will never understand this even when you know everything. It will never change anything. And I have no right to love you." All broken and judged, she laid it for him.

However, Charles pursued. He will never let her go again. Never. Even if she tried every way possible for her to hurt him, he'll stay. Now more than ever.

" Why do you need the right to love me? I will say this once and for all, it's okay. So love me like you did before...or so much more." he reiterated as his forehead kissed hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth that emanated from her.

" You do not have to worry about what happened before happening again. I will stay by your side until you beg me not to. I have loved you before, right now and always. So please stay." he pleaded for the world to see.

But he did not care. He only cared for her, for Y/n. Because after all this time, he never forgot. His heart has always yearned for her just like how it beats for her alone. And it burst with love for the woman before him as he gaze onto her eyes. He saw everything there. Everything that she cannot put into words. And who was he to not seal it, again. Hence, he kissed the life out of her. The years of longing, hatred and guilt poured into that one kiss as the world cheered for them.

The flashes of cameras and the deafening cheer echoed in the street of his home as his love is back. He made thanks to the God he had never believed and the string that has yet to snap. Indeed it was true, ' the string may bend and tangle, but it will never break.' That the years apart was no punishment but, a way for them to grow - to see things clearly, to look back and learn that what happened was worth it. Yes, it did break them but, it also taught them that a relationship is partnership, that it really does take two to tango.

But then again, they were but humans, the two of them. Faulty but faithful. Hence, they'll hold tightly this time - never letting go, and remembering the start. Because Pascale was right, we only regret the chances we didn't take.

[frvnkcastles]

I was wondering if you could write a fic where reader has abandonment issues and she's scared that frank will one day just get bored of her and leave?

love your work 💙

’TIL THE EARTH STARTS TO CRUMBLE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’re wired to always assume everyone will leave you. Frank is determined to change that.

Warnings: Abandonment issues, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.4k

Author’s note: Thank you so much for the support anon! This was easy to write because this is something I also struggle with MAJORLY. I feel you, you’re not alone <3 It really sucks but the right people will stay and reassure you always!!

You didn’t want to be too clingy, you really didn’t. But when you’ve found someone like Frank, you’ve gotta cherish every moment with that person and make sure they won’t leave you, right? That was what you told yourself, anyway, not that you’d actually reveal what was going on inside your head to him directly. To you, it just seemed like opening up about your issues would only give him more reason to walk out on you, it would only push him away, and that was the last thing you wanted.

You had been this way for as long as you could remember. Desperate to be liked and loved, terribly scared of being left alone or rejected. It was all the same with people you dated and people you befriended, the constant checking that everything was alright and you were still doing good. You had learned the hard way it was too much for some people when your ex had done exactly what you had tried to stop him from doing — abandoning you.

So, you tried to tone it down. You tried to reason with yourself. Frank wasn’t going anywhere. He loved you and cared about you, and if anything, he had baggage, too. You appreciated him regardless, and you knew the feeling was mutual. It was just difficult to convey that message to your brain, the damn thing endlessly feeding you lies and doubt about the foundation of your relationship.

It was just a matter of time. It had to be. Just like everyone else, he’d leave you.

You managed to suffer in silence and cry about your fears in private for a while, but in a sick twist of fate, Frank began pulling away. He thoroughly explained to you his latest mission, told you everything he was going to have to do and how he wanted to keep you safe from his enemies. But it was in one ear and out the other. You smiled and nodded, promised you understood, but it didn’t take you long to start freaking out. This was how it started, the drifting apart, the building distance between you until he’d have to cut his losses and cut you off.

He left at night, which meant that most days you got to enjoy his company, only for your time together to be shadowed by the impending anxiety. And the nights you spent alone, your pillow wet with tears as you wondered when he’d stop returning home. When you woke up in his arms in the morning, you felt comforted and reassured and you swore to yourself you wouldn’t repeat the cycle that night, only to end up breaking your own promise.

A week passed with you slowly stopping eating and sleeping, an unhealthy habit that you were able to hide with Frank being gone. But he wasn’t stupid, and eventually, he picked up on it.

”Make sure you eat somethin’ tonight, aight? That sandwich I made ya was still in the fridge”, Frank commented while packing his bag for the night, shuffling around your apartment whereas you were seated on the couch, watching him bounce from one room to the next.

”I’ll try”, you spoke faintly, a yawn interrupting you, and stopping in his tracks, Frank looked over to you and frowned with his whole face.

”You didn’t sleep much last night, either”, he pointed out, hoping that his observation would be enough for you to open up, but you only gave him a half-hearted shrug in response.

”It’s fine”, you whispered, dropping your stare from Frank’s piercing eyes to your hands as you picked on your nails. You felt like you could throw up any second now, and the walls were closing down on you, inviting panic and terror into your soul. This was your least favorite part of the day and it didn’t seem to get any easier with time, but asking Frank to stay seemed so selfish and obsessive.

Figuring that it wouldn’t do any good to push, Frank nodded and finished packing his duffel bag. Once he was finished, he walked over to you for your nightly kiss on the top of your head, his routine of saying good night and goodbye to you.

But tonight, you just couldn’t help but act on your instincs. As he leaned down to kiss you, you closed your eyes and wrapped a fist around the front of his shirt to hold him close and not let him pull away. When he tried, he was stopped by your vice-like grip, and confused, he looked down at you only to find sheer fear twisted on your face.

”Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” he asked with concern, crouching down in front of you, his head tilted so he could catch your eyes. ”Talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here”, he reassured you while lifting his hand to caress your cheek, his thumb catching the stray tear that rolled down from the corner of your eye.

”I don’t want you to go. I’m so scared you won’t come back. I know, I know it’s just a matter of time before you get sick of me or bored of me and leave for good. I’m not good enough for you, I’m not interesting enough, I’m not pretty enough—”, you babbled, all the emotions you had been bottling up inside finally bursting out of you.

”Baby, baby, where’s all this comin’ from? I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Hey, look at me”, he was genuinely surprised, but his voice was firm as he took a hold of your jaw and lifted it so that your eyes could meet. Shakily, you opened your eyes, embarrassed to face him but there was not even a hint of judgment or annoyance in the brown depth of his gaze. ”You’re wrong, sweetheart. You’re more than good for me, you’re far more than my miserable ass deserves. And whaddya mean you ain’t interesting? You keep me on my toes all the time. Don’t even get me started on the pretty part, you know I fuckin’ adore you, head to toe”, he raved on, passion behind every word, and you so badly wanted to believe him.

Sniffling, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. ”I thought that admitting I was scared you’d leave me would just push you away. Or worse, you’d stay with me out of pity”, you admitted quietly, averting your gaze in shame, but Frank was having none of it, and quickly turned your head back to him.

”Oh, sweetheart”, he sighed, pulling you into his embrace, tightly folding his strong arms around you. ”I’m stayin’ with you because I love you. You’re everythin’ to me and I couldn’t do this without you. I’m not tryna belittle your feelings and fears, but I promise, it ain’t gonna come true. I’m stickin’ with you for as long as you’ll have me, I swear on my life, sweet girl”, he vowed while holding you against his chest.

”Do you mean that?” you asked with a wavering voice, ”everyone always leaves me.” Your words broke Frank’s heart, and he wished he could have made you see yourself through his eyes, wished you could have read his mind so that you’d know exactly how he felt about you. He considered himself the luckiest bastard in the world for being able to share a space with you, to kiss you and hold you, and he wasn’t going to walk away from that no matter what.

”Not me. You’ll see. I’m here to stay”, he insisted, pulling back just so he could cradle your head in his large hands and shower your face with quick but sweet kisses, from your forehead to the corner of your eye and from your nose to your jawline.

”Good, ’cause I really love you and it would break me”, you chuckled sadly, unable to fight a smile as Frank peppered your skin with kisses.

”I’m real sorry people haven’t ’preciated you before. But I’mma make sure that head of yours quiets down for a second, yeah? I ain’t gonna let you down”, he confirmed with dedication, and as he gave you a solemn look that was far from joking, you gave in and nodded.

You wanted to believe him, but you both knew it was easier said than done. But Frank wasn’t going to give up — he was going to show you again and again that he was serious about you, that he really was in love with you, and maybe, some day, you would accept that as the simple truth.

[a-blog-for-kat]

DRDT CAST ALPHABETICAL ASSOCIATION NUMBERS AND THEIR MEANINGS

IE; Ace (1), Arei (2), Arturo (3), ect.

DRDT SPOILERS AND KAT RAMBLING ABOUT NUMBERS BELOW!! BEWARE!!

1 - Ace is the first name alphabetically in the DRDT cast first name wise because "Ace" means number one, or to be the best at something. Ace is also the first “normal” person on the cast list website, as Teruko is first (protagonist) Xander is second (Support) Charles is third (Antagonist) but Ace is fourth without being extremely tied into the story at this point. It also can signify confidence, something Ace shows in chapter one a little but eventually it got overtaken by just anger and fear.

Edit: He was also the 4th person to die!!!

2 - Arei is number two in the cast, she's the ch2 victim, second person to have her sobbing session before dying (Xander didn’t cry a shocker), or maybe she'll always be second place compared to her sisters, which she has two of? If my memory serves me right (Future Kat here, it does), she’s also the second shortest of the cast after Eden, according to the new biometrics.

3 - In more religious settings, the number three can represent perfection and completeness, which for Arturo is ironic since he doesn’t even have a complete design shown, as we haven’t seen the whole him, only most of him physically (in the sense of we don’t know what his whole face looks like, only the upper part.) Three also represents problem solvers and people who are optimistic in nature and can also be childish. Not like Arturo, but maybe Felicity as she’s three to four years younger than Arturo?

4 - Funnily the first thing that popped up was “earth, wind, water, and fire” so CHARLES IS AN ELEMENT BENDER /j. On a serious note the number four can signify stability and strong foundations. Knowing a little bit into Charles’ backstory (his family spoiled him, he was quite sheltered, he doesn’t remember anything about his brother) he probably had a “stable” homelife until Elliot died, ruining that stability and basically crumbling his foundations, even leading him to gain hemophobia (the fear of blood) and necrophobia (the fear of dead bodies/corpses).

4 cont. - Another meaning to the number four is hard work, which Charles is constantly shown doing. He doesn’t half-ass anything, hell he works as hard as he can to reach his goals. He is the reason the students haven’t absolutely gotten their asses killed yet this trial since he called out Teruko’s wrong.

4 cont part 2. The number four is also a bad omen in East Asia, commonly associated with death. Now, Charles might be Latino, but someone else he's heavily associated with, Whit, is Chinese. Even in the LGI MV, Whit has tetraphobia as a word assigned to him, which is the fear of the number four, possibly hinting to either Charles' or Whits death in the near future.

5 - The number five can symbolize freedom, curiosity, and change. Let's start in order with these three examples, David doesn’t have freedom over his branding and basically his entire public persona. It’s been crafted by his manager to show to the world, the only reason he even was able to escape it was because his secret of being a “manipulator” got revealed and he just had to drop it. There's no point in keeping it up, after all. Curiosity is a bit tricky, but it could mean that he’s curious as to why people do the things they do? Why don't all of them don’t even try to understand Xander’s true intentions with why he stabbed Teruko. Change, well, his entire ideology is “people can’t change.” He believes you’re born either a good person or bad person, and that’s how you’ll stay. If you “changed” you were always a good or bad person to begin with.

5 cont. - One more thing, David’s association with stars, which have 5 points. But all stars burn out eventually, so maybe this symbolizes how David was so burnt out from keeping his public persona that it “died” and the real him is out.

6 - The number six can represent trustworthiness, lovingness, and sympathy. Eden is very trusting, that's actually her entire theme, being very trusting towards others and trying to show Teruko that trust is good. Eden is a very loving person in general, she loves others quite a lot and her secret revolves around kissing a girl, most likely with feelings involved in that. And sympathy. She's a sympathetic person in general. She's basically the glue that holds the cast together.

7 - The number seven usually signifies luck in many modern cultures. It can also signify indecisiveness, which is shown when Hu defends Nico in the class trial but is extremely condescending towards Arturo, even though they have extremely similar situations. (I am not defending either Arturo or Nico, they were both in the wrong for their situations.) It can also be associated with moodiness, which is very much shown in the last two episodes with Hu snapping multiple times.

8 - The number eight can signify being straight-talking and blunt, which we see in J quite a lot. If he doesn’t like something, he’ll state it. When Arturo’s being a creep towards him, he’s justifiably mad and has said multiple times that he wants to be left alone. When he tried to use the remote on MonoTV in episode 4 of Chapter One, he stated that, at the very least, he wanted it to die. He’s also pretty confident, I mean, look at the remote scene. He’s very clearly confident in what he can do.

9 - The number nine can signify humanitarianism and compassion, both things Levi can lack. He’s, at the end of episode 12, revealed to be a remorseless murderer who holds no guilt for his past actions. He is also shown to not know how to feel emotions like grief in situations and even consults Eden about it.

10 - The number ten can mean someone who’s ready to take a new phase in life, this could mean Min was ready to die for Teruko to take a new phase in her life, aka becoming much more untrusting and throwing her into that negative arc. It can also signify order and law, something Min might’ve studied. Also the number ten is a Pythagorean symbol, perfection. Something Min aims to become. Perfect.

11 - The number eleven can symbolize spiritual journeys which….. Unless Nico is going to have some form of spiritual journey, I don’t think this could pertain to them. But it could also be just a journey revolving around their character, becoming someone who’s not afraid to speak their word.

12 - The number twelve is associated with the heavens but can also be cosmic order and perfection, something you strive for as an artist. Being perfect. Which is also a good representative of Rose’s memory, it’s perfect, she won’t forget a detail. But that’s also her downfall, if she sees something awful it won’t leave her memory.

13 - (Has spoken about 13 in the past. Read here.)

14 - The number fourteen can signify new beginnings, a fresh start, and harmony. The last one being ironic as she usually only brings chaos and destruction. New beginnings could mean her using her talent as a new beginning or new outlet instead of hurting herself (if that really is her secret) and a fresh start could mean her starting anew in this killing game? Or even her getting a character arc in the future, though I doubt it.

15 - The number fifteen tends to be associated very sensitive and caring individuals who prioritize the well-being of others over their own. Which can be applied to Whit in a sense, he puts others feelings over others in situations, like trying to make Teruko smile by sacrificing Charles’ dignity. He’s also just a very caring person in general, as it’s shown how he comforted Charles in Chapter One (Sibling Core) or Eden in Chapter Two. Another thing could be how all luxury is in life, Whit seemed to live a relatively normal life before his mother passed, but still tries to make the best of life and make it a luxury.

16 - The number sixteen is a number associated with karma, what goes around comes around. Xander, stabbing Teruko, has done a bad thing, therefore paying with his life. It could also signify pushing others to their life purposes, Xander, after stabbing Teruko, pushed her to her “purpose” of being a cold protagonist. It can also mean a smart mind but Xander isn’t that smart to be honest-

TYSM FOR LISTENING TO MY RAMBLING <3

[merwgue]

Let’s talk about the impossible feat of loving Nesta while simultaneously shipping Nessian. Yes, it’s possible to admire Nesta’s fierce, complex, and deeply troubled character, but it becomes a mental gymnastics routine when people insist on pairing her with Cassian, the very character who consistently undermines her healing and mental health.

There’s a fundamental issue here: Nesta is on a self-destructive spiral for the majority of her arc in A Court of Silver Flames, and Cassian, the supposed "love interest," isn’t helping—he’s actually worsening the situation. Cassian doesn’t just harm Nesta emotionally; he’s also not great for himself, which turns this into the classic case of two people who are absolutely not ready for a relationship but are shoved into one for the sake of drama, attraction, or—let’s face it—trauma-bonding. So let’s get into why loving Nesta means rejecting the idea of Nessian, because at its core, this relationship is toxic.

Cassian's Actions: Love or Harm?

In what world is it okay for a man to force a woman into an intervention-style imprisonment because she’s hurting? That’s not love; that’s coercion. The moment Rhysand, Feyre, and Cassian decide to lock Nesta up in the House of Wind without any real professional help is the moment you realize how warped their perception of "helping" is. Cassian actively participates in this isolation, and no matter how it’s spun, that’s not caring for someone’s well-being—that’s control. Realistically speaking, throwing someone with severe PTSD, depression, and a ton of guilt into a glorified prison doesn’t scream "let’s heal together"; it screams "I don’t want to deal with your pain, so I’ll just shove you into a corner."

The thing with Cassian is that he keeps asserting dominance over Nesta under the guise of tough love, which, at best, is misguided and, at worst, is abusive. There’s emotional manipulation here that people often overlook. He’s constantly undermining her boundaries, trying to force her into situations she’s clearly not ready for. This isn’t about "challenging her to be better"—this is about someone refusing to accept where she is in her emotional journey and trying to rush her into healing on his timeline.

Relationships Aren't a Band-Aid for Self-Destruction

You can’t ship someone who is in the throes of their own personal turmoil into a romantic relationship and expect everything to work out. It’s not the 90s where "love heals all wounds" was a plausible relationship arc. Let’s get real: both Cassian and Nesta are deeply flawed, emotionally scarred people who are not in a position to bring out the best in each other. Cassian has his own guilt, his own trauma, and his own unresolved issues, which means that he is self-destructing in his own way too. How is a relationship built on two crumbling foundations supposed to thrive?

There’s this common trope that "relationships make people better." And sure, sometimes that’s true. The right partnership can encourage personal growth, offer support, and provide a stable ground for emotional healing. But here’s the kicker: that only works if both parties are in a place to actively support one another. Cassian and Nesta are both drowning in their own emotional baggage, and what happens when two people are drowning? They pull each other down.

It’s Not the Right Time—Or Maybe It’s Just Not Right

Let’s entertain the idea for a moment that Cassian and Nesta could be meant to be. Maybe, in another universe, under different circumstances, their dynamic could work. But in this current context, it's not just that it's not the right time—it's that Cassian is fundamentally bad for Nesta's mental health. Relationships take effort, mutual respect, and understanding. What Cassian offers is a kind of pseudo-support that's wrapped up in his own unresolved issues. He’s often dismissive of Nesta’s pain, or worse, he actively exacerbates it by belittling her coping mechanisms (however flawed they may be).

Cassian pushes her physically and emotionally when she’s clearly not in a place to handle it. This isn’t the "right person, wrong time" situation—it’s the "this relationship is unhealthy for both people" situation. To claim they’re good for each other is to completely disregard the damage they do to one another.

Cassian's Behavior: Emotional Manipulation or Love?

Cassian fans often try to justify his actions by claiming he’s trying to help Nesta get out of her destructive cycle, but let’s be real here: a lot of what he does is emotional manipulation. Cassian constantly tries to mold Nesta into the person he thinks she should be, without giving her the space to figure out who she actually is. Yes, Nesta is angry, grieving, and hurting, but instead of letting her process that pain on her own terms, Cassian’s solution is to insert himself into her healing journey as if he’s the one with the answer to all her problems.

The power dynamics here are wildly skewed. Nesta is at her most vulnerable, and Cassian—who should recognize that and proceed with caution—does the exact opposite. He forces her into situations she’s not ready for, whether it’s physical training or emotionally confronting things she hasn’t yet processed. This kind of forced "healing" is toxic. It's not love; it's domination.

Abuse Isn’t Just Physical—It’s Mental and Emotional Too

It’s easy to point out physical abuse and say "that’s wrong," but what people fail to recognize is that emotional and mental abuse are just as damaging. Cassian’s emotional manipulation—his constant pushing, his refusal to respect Nesta’s boundaries, his belief that he knows what’s best for her—are all forms of emotional abuse. He might not physically hurt her, but the way he chips away at her mental and emotional health is just as harmful.

Nesta deserves a partner who supports her healing in a way that’s compassionate and understanding—not someone who forces her into situations she’s not ready for because he thinks it’s the best course of action. Cassian, for all his good intentions, isn’t that partner. At least, not now, and maybe not ever.

Conclusion: You Can’t Love Nesta and Ship Nessian

Here’s the bottom line: you can’t claim to love Nesta while simultaneously shipping her with a man who actively harms her, emotionally manipulates her, and refuses to respect her boundaries. If you love Nesta, you want her to heal, to thrive, to grow—on her own terms. Cassian, in his current state, doesn’t support that growth. In fact, he stunts it. So no, you can’t love Nesta and ship Nessian at the same time. To do so is to fundamentally misunderstand what it means to love someone like Nesta: fiercely, without conditions, and with a respect for her autonomy.

Cassian might be good for someone else, or maybe even for Nesta in a different life. But in this one? He’s not the hero of her story—he’s the obstacle.

[nkn0va]

Ok, so do think that you can do relationship hcs for Cynthia, Lusamine, Diantha from Pokemon?

The fact that a Pokemon request of all things took so damn long is baffling but whatever. Minimalistic post since I don't have banners for Pokemon and I don't feel like going through Tumblr gifs to find a decent one for everyone.

God this took way too long. Writer's block struck at the worst possible time.

Cynthia

-Cynthia's occupation as champion keeps her quite busy. Neither of you particularly enjoy this but that's just how the cookie crumbles as they say.

-Despite that, she's surprisingly good at separating work from her personal life. When the League's finding itself in a slow season and new trainers aren't running amok around Sinnoh she'll always manage to find time for you.

-She's extremely supportive of whatever you do and will be there all the way. Wanna be a trainer too? Congratulations, you have a world class mentor. Wanna be an archeologist, she will nerd out about ancient mythology with you all you want and join you on your excavations. Anything you wanna do, Pokemon-related or not, has her full support.

-Between her mythological studies on the side with her work and training as champion, there are moments she overworks herself. You'll need to play the role of caretaker and bring her back down to Earth.

-Of course despite this, it doesn't stop her from doing the same for you when necessary. Gently pushing you to go to sleep, preparing a fresh cup of your favorite warm drink, or knocking you out with a bat hugging you from behind to relax you.

-Her Pokemon quickly form an attachment to you, they see her family as theirs, too. Seeing her terrifying, nightmare inducing Garchomp acting like a big puppy will never get old.

-If you have a team of their own, they get quite protective, especially the unevolved, inexperienced ones. At least until you end up catching up to them, which they eventually will under their tutelage.

Lusamine

-Realistically, you really only get close enough to be in a relationship if you start as an employee at the Aether Foundation. Your hard-working attitude and sincere kindness towards the Pokemon they take care of quickly grabs her attention. Something about you just stood out even among the similar employees working under her.

-The relationship instantly is declared to be a secret, she still needs to keep a professional appearance at work. In private though is a different story.

-Once you do manage to win Lusamine's heart, she's extremely attached and clingy. Considering how her last relationship ended, she will not let you go. And you can bet that you're not touching anything involving Ultra Wormholes with a 40 foot pole.

-Very physically clingy all around despite what your first impressions of her might have been. It's a pleasant surprise when she finally drops the professional facade around you and craves gentle intimacy.

-It's only natural that Lillie and Gladion quickly become a big part of your life considering how big of a part they are in Lusamine's. Being there for them is a requirement in your relationship.

-It takes a while for them to warm up to you, but they do eventually. Lillie's much more open about it, happy to have a second parent in her life again. Gladion does try to keep up the edgy persona, but he does become fond of you, albeit shown very subtly.

-It's a very surprisingly domestic relationship after the whole Ultra Space incident. A very happy family picture with Lillie and Gladion around.

Diantha.

-Much like the last two ladies, very busy. Being a champion and a movie star means she's not exactly swimming in free time. Whenever you two do get to go out together, disguises are needed thanks to her fame.

-Dating Diantha means your fashion sense sees a noticeable improvement. Mostly to have effective disguises so you can go out in public without being hounded by paparazzi. It's actually quite pleasant when it works.

-You learn to spot her out in public regardless of what she's wearing as she beckons you over to a nice cafe or restaurant she wants to try with you. Kalos is known for it's exquisite fine dining, whatever gets her approval is bound to be the good stuff.

-The public is inevitably soon going to find out you're dating THE Diantha. You're gonna become a bit of a celebrity yourself whether you like it or not. If you're pursuing anything to do for a living, you're at the very least gonna get eyes on it, fortunately. You two immediately become Kalos' power couple.

-If you have a Pokemon capable of Mega Evolution, Diantha will be your number one fan and mentor in helping you achieve that power. She's about the best you could ask for in this regard, her ace is a Psychic type that she Mega Evolves, after all.

-Despite all the glamor and lights, she does crave something of a domestic life. She very much appreciates a more traditional partner there for the long run who wants the same thing. To her, buying a house and settling down is her ultimate goal, and showing you want the same makes you two pretty much set for life.

[separatist-apologist]

How do you keep boundaries and find balance around your fandom experience?

I feel so bad saying this bc everyone is so nice but I feel pressure to keep up with and promote mutuals’ work and its starting to burn me out from being able to write

I hear this all the time and maybe this is the depression talking but oh man I want to respond to this.

People write SO. FAST. Can you imagine if I got angry every time one of my mutuals didn't reblog/comment/read one of my fics? I'd have no mutuals, no friends, nothing at all. Like at some point you have to trust your mutuals are actually your friends and they're not going to get upset if you don't hype every project they do.

And if they DO get upset, well...thats a reciprocal relationship built on a foundation of weeds and if it can crumble so easily, were you ever actually friends/mutuals at all? I know this is common in fandom spaces and I talk to people all the time who are like, so-and-so doesn't interact with me anymore since I didn't review/read/WHATEVER their last fic and I'm always like. Couldn't be me.

There are a million fics I'd like to read and a million more I'm 10+ chapters behind on. It's just not possible. And I think about like...me and @ablogofsapphicpanic who has only read the fics I've written FOR her. We talk every single day about everything and nothing at all. Or me and @the-lonelybarricade who spent so much time beta-ing for each other that if you went through our work during that time period, you'd probably find SO much overlap in our phrasing/structuring/whatever else. It was never a conscious decision to stop, just kind of a mutual recognition we were busy with our own things but were supporting the other (loudly!) from the sidelines.

My POINT is that this is your hobby! And of course engagement is important- we should hype up our mutuals whenever possible, and read their excellent work because we like what they do. And I think its okay to free yourself from the pressure of trying to do ALL of it, all of the time.

[corydora-writes]

Sunshine After a Storm

Summary: Dean has been away on a hunt for over a month. Despite putting on a strong front for Dean, you've been grappling with persistent grief stemming from the emotionally demanding nature of your work as a nurse and the suffocating anxiety that Dean might not return to you alive. When Dean notices, he wholeheartedly dedicates himself to reassuring you that being vulnerable is perfectly acceptable and tenderly encourages you to lean on him for support and share the emotional burden.

“My sweet, beautiful, sensitive girl,” Dean whispered, the words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, soothing the storm inside you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size F Reader; Dean & Reader are engaged. No physical description of the reader, but I envision fat women when I write. 

Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, anxiety.

Word Count: 3,807

A/N: Yeah, so if it wasn't obvious, I'm rewatching Supernatural! Admittedly, this piece is self-indulgent, much like most of my writing. I wrote it over the weekend to help me cope with the emotional demands of my new job (I'm not in the healthcare field). I share these writings, hoping they solace others as we envision our comfort characters providing what our hearts and souls yearn for. 

Each day blurred into the next, filled with the routines of caring for residents who looked to you for comfort and support, yet you often felt like an island in the sea of their struggles. At the senior assisted living facility, you were the steady hand, the kind smile, and the soft voice that reassured them through their fears and anxieties. But even the strongest of foundations can begin to crumble under the weight of fatigue and isolation. The numbness from years of caring for others was starting to give way to a torrent of feeling—everything you had kept at bay for so long was threatening to overwhelm you.

The fluorescent lights of the nursing station buzzed around you like a swarm of relentless bees, each patient's story echoing in your mind. You recalled Ms. Loveday, who had once played the piano beautifully, now silent in her final days. Or Mr. Jenkins, whose laughter had filled the room, now a faint memory cloaked in the sterile antiseptic scent. A soft beep echoed from the telemetry monitor, snapping you back to reality. You forced yourself to focus on the task — reviewing charts, administering medication, and comforting the residents you adored.

After your shift ended, you sat in the break room zoning out, staring blankly into your untouched coffee, the steam curling up and dissipating into the air like the souls you had held onto, if only for a little while. You couldn't shake the feeling that your days were also numbered, that someday, you would hold Dean’s hand for the last time and never quite recover from it.

"What are you doing after this shift?" Your colleague asked cheerfully, snapping you back to reality. 

"Just... going home, I suppose," you replied, your smile a facade that failed to reach your eyes. Returning to your own life, free from the weight of others' suffering, seemed like a distant dream. 

"Take care of yourself, okay? You know you can't help everyone. You're not a superhero." 

You nodded, but the words stung. You wanted to be the invincible partner that Dean deserved, someone who didn't crumble under the weight of sorrow. Yet here you were, feeling fragile and frayed like the worn-out scrubs you wore, each thread a reminder of your emotional turmoil.

The old rigid door creaked as you entered the bunker, filled with the comforting remnants of Dean’s presence: his jackets tossed over chairs, half-opened magazines stacked on the table, and the faint smell of gun oil lingering in the air. Despite the chaos of the Winchester’s hunting life, there was a warm stability in the bunker, one you clung to now more than ever.

After a quick shower, you washed away the remnants of your long shift—the scent of antiseptics and the occasional, overwhelming smell of anxiety vanishing down the drain.

Just as you settled onto the soft mattress, you reached for your phone, and your heart gushed at the thought of Dean. You flipped through the gallery, each photo a whisper of your shared moments. His bright and infectious smile glowed up at you from the screen, reminding you of carefree days spent together—adventurous getaways, lazy Sunday mornings, and spontaneous late-night drives. You held onto the phone tightly, feeling the phantom warmth of his presence.

Beside you, Dean's flannel shirt rested on the bed. You buried your face in the fabric, inhaling deeply, as his scent—woodsy and familiar—wrapped around you like a warm embrace. It was comforting, a piece of him that bridged the miles between, yet it heightened the pang of longing deep within you.

Just as you felt your eyelids grow heavy, your phone buzzed in your hand. The vibration startled you, causing your heart to race. You glanced at the screen, and your breath caught in your throat. The name that lit up the display sent a flood of warmth through your chest: "Dean."

It was surreal. Could he feel your longing, hear your silent prayers for connection? You answered with a quick swipe, the screen illuminating your face. You panicked momentarily and hoped he wouldn't sense something was wrong. 

You uttered a breathless, "Hello?" 

"Hey, babe," Dean's voice greeted you, full of warmth and a hint of fatigue.

"Hey," you replied, your voice wavering slightly. "How's the hunt?" 

“Same ol’, same ol’. Just another day in the family business.” He chuckled. "How's the old folks' home? Still wrangling all the cranky grandpas?"

You took a deep breath. You were torn. You wanted to share your burdens, but how could you do that without dragging him down?

 "It has been busy. You know how it is."

"Something's off. Tell me what's wrong," Dean asked as he picked up on the subtle unease in your tone.

The genuine concern in his voice made your heart swell, yet it hurt to think of burdening him with your struggles. You hesitated, grappling with the urge to be strong. You and Dean had always been each other's anchors, but now you worried you might tip the boat over.

"I'm fine, babe. I'm just sleep-deprived. Been taking extra shifts to keep busy, is all," you finally said, forcing an upbeat tone you didn't quite feel. "Just know I miss you."

"I miss you too, baby. We're going to get ready to wrap up this hunt. Can't wait to get back home. We'll do something fun, I promise." 

"Sounds good," you replied, but the words felt hollow. "Be careful, okay?"

"I will. I always do. I love you, sweetheart." 

You heard a faint sound of chatter, and then Jack's voice chimed in, "Hey, I love you too!"

Your smile widened as you responded, "Love you both, too!"

After you hung up, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the fatigue that weighed heavily on you.

--------

Communication between you and Dean had always been a source of strength, but the waning enthusiasm in your voice concerned him and gnawed at him. 

He sat on the edge of the motel bed and couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Dean frowned. He knew how to read you like a book. ‘Busy’ was your way of saying you were overwhelmed; he could sense the weight behind those words. He didn’t think it was just the usual stress of your job—it was deeper, darker like a cloud hovering over you. 

Sam observed his restless brother, noticing how Dean's fingers tapped anxiously on the leg. 

"Go to her, Dean," Sam advised softly, his eyes reflecting understanding. "We'll take care of everything here."

Dean hesitated, glancing at Sam, who was perched comfortably at the table, absorbed in his research. 

"You sure about this?" Dean questioned.

"We've got this covered," Sam affirmed, projecting confidence. 

Cas, Jack, and Eileen joined in with subtle nods, their collective solidarity a silent promise of support.

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

As you finished your shift at the senior home, tending to one of the residents, Mrs. Flores, you noticed the rustle of a delivery person approaching the nurses' station. The familiar scent of flowers wafted through the air, and your heart raced excitedly. It was that time again—Dean's way of sending his love your way, telling you that he would be home in exactly two weeks. 

The delivery person handed you a beautifully arranged bouquet of vibrant sunflowers and tulips, their golden petals radiating warmth. You carefully took the flowers, your breath hitching slightly at the sight. Then, with anticipation, you spotted the small card nestled among the stems. 

"Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted you to know I'll be on my way home soon. Can't wait to wrap my arms around you and show you how much I love you. You’re a beacon of light in my life, and I hope these brightened your day as much as you brightened mine. I'm so damn proud of you. See you soon. - Dean.

You couldn't help but smile widely, your heart fluttering at the words. Mrs. Flores, who had been observing you closely, chuckled softly. 

"That man has a way of making your heart sing, doesn't he?" Mrs. Flores said wistfully, her gaze distant. 

“You have no idea," you replied softly, pondering how lucky you felt to have Dean in your life, even with the chaos that often surrounded you both.

You took a moment to breathe in their sweet fragrance. Dean always seemed to know just what you needed— love, woven through the chaos of your lives, was a constant source of strength. 

You turned your attention back to Mrs. Flores, who was already gathering her knitting supplies.

 "So, what do you think?" you asked, a playful glimmer in your eye. "Can I pull off shamefully gushing about my fiancé while we finish these clinics?"

Mrs. Flores grinned knowingly. "Oh, honey, you go right ahead. A little love story in a room full of memories is exactly what we need!" 

Mr. Thompson had wheeled himself to get a close look at the flowers. "Well, don't you look like you've been kissed by the sun, dear! Who's the lucky guy?" He asked.

You turned, your smile even wider. “That would be my fiancé, Dean. He’s away for work right now, but this is his way of letting me know he's thinking of me."

"That's a lovely gesture! You keep that glow; it makes my day brighter just seeing you happy," Mr. Thompson replied, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

Your work device vibrated with a message from the doctor: "Ms. Loveday requests your presence for one final meeting." 

As you strolled through the serene corridors of the hospice, reminiscences of previous encounters with Ms. Loveday inundated your thoughts. The soothing, rhythmic melody of the piano keys resounded in your mind—the way Ms. Loveday's smile would gently emerge, her eyes glimmering with memories as she recounted tales of her youth and the magnificent concerts she once graced with her presence.

There she was, lying peacefully in bed, surrounded by the soft glow of the sunset filtering through the window. The room held a stillness that contrasted sharply with the anxious flutter in your heart. 

You approached her, noting her labored breaths and the slightest tremors of her body. You took her hand in hers, squeezing gently, wishing her comfort.

Ms. Loveday's face softened with warmth, her eyes twinkling with affection as she summoned all her strength to speak in a gentle, trembling voice, "What a good man. Those flowers are lovely, dear. They remind me of sunshine after a storm." 

You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes. The reality of her impending goodbye was suffocating.

"Dear," Ms. Loveday said softly, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying the warmth of a thousand shared moments. "Life is a melody, and like any good piece of music, it has its crescendos and diminuendos. Remember to embrace the highs and get through the lows together."

"Ms. Loveday, I—"

"Let me finish," the elderly woman interrupted with a gentle smile, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "you have a good heart. Don't let it harden with the burdens of this world. Promise me you'll live fully. Dance if you must, laugh often, and never let doubt overshadow your love."

You couldn't help but smile through your sorrow. "I promise," you finally replied, your voice trembling. "I'll hold on to your words and cherish every moment."

"Good," Ms. Loveday said, her voice growing fainter. She closed her eyes, a peaceful smile still resting on her lips."Thank you for being my audience, y/n. I think my final encore is about to begin."

Ms. Loveday's trembling grasp finally loosened, and as her hand fell away, the once-vigorous monitor that had been beeping with life fell into an eerie silence. Your emotional dam collapsed as you finally opened the floodgates, your tears flowing freely. In that poignant moment of grief, you found yourself consumed by a deep yearning for Dean, wishing for his unwavering strength to envelop you, to remind you that you were a team—each other's support, no matter the distance or the danger he faced. 

-------

Dean's heart pounded with concern as he stepped out of your workplace. He had traveled a long way, eagerly looking forward to surprising you, only to be met with your absence. He couldn't shake the feeling that something didn't add up. The receptionist's words lingered in his mind: "She'll be off for the next few days." 

This conflicted with the excuse you gave him just a few hours ago about picking up extra shifts and being unable to communicate as much. His sense of unease grew as he pondered the inconsistencies in your story. Leaning against the sleek Impala, he felt the cool metal against his back as he fought to calm his racing thoughts, determined not to succumb to the impulse to jump to the worst possible conclusion.

His foot pressed hard on the accelerator as he sped towards the bunker, a surge of relief washing over him when he glimpsed your car parked outside. With anticipation and trepidation, he stepped inside the bunker, enveloped in an eerie silence, save for the buzzing of the lights. 

Dean made his way to your bedroom and heard the shower's distant sound. Knowing you were home brought him instant relief. 

Dean waited anxiously for you as you lingered in the shower. Usually, he'd enthusiastically join you, but this time, he wanted to approach you differently. 

Fidgeting nervously, he tapped his fingers on his lap. Finally, he heard the water cease, and after a few moments, your silhouette casted a soft glow in the room. You emerged from the shower, oblivious to Dean's presence as he sat back on a chair. You were adorned in a delicate silk chemise, the delicate fabric gracefully draping over her figure. Seeing you caused Dean's heart to swell with emotion. 

“Sleeping early now, are we?" Dean remarked, causing you to stop in your tracks, completely bewildered by his unexpected presence. 

"Dean," you uttered, "I-- I thought you'd be here in two weeks."

Dean's relaxed demeanor tightened as he replied, "Yeah, well, that was before I found out my soon-to-be wife was going through hell alone." His attempt at lightness couldn't mask the underlying concern. "Come on, sweetheart, I know you well." 

You averted your gaze, not wanting Dean to see your swollen eyes from hours of crying.

"I'm fine," you said with a forced smile. "Where's everyone?" you asked, shifting the focus. 

 "Okay, so we're going to have a conversation through questions. I’ll indulge you." Dean settled back and observed you, still standing in the alcove, your expression hidden.

 "They're wrapping up the case, so it's just you and me in this bunker. Why did you say you were working extra shifts when you were taking days off?"

You winced at the question, your heart racing as you searched for the most sensible lie. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you—intense and unwavering.

 "I'm just... very sleep-deprived, and I intended to sleep a lot these next few days." There was a moment of silence. "That must have been a long drive... Did you stop by some place to get yourself anything to eat?" 

Dean knew that was a lie, but he wouldn't press it. 

“No, I wanted to get here as fast as possible," he said before pausing and continuing, "Look, I get it. Sometimes, we all need a break. But why the cover-up?" His voice was steady, but an undertone of worry was simmering beneath the surface.

You bit your lip, the weight of his gaze making your chest tighten.

"It was wrong of me, Dean. I’m sorry,” you said, hoping that was enough for him to avoid attempting to discover your weakness. “I’ll be back. I'm going to fix you dinner."

But Dean's worry only intensified, brewing a storm within him. He had faced countless monsters and supernatural foes, yet here he was, feeling powerless against the unseen burdens that tormented you.

He stood up, his instincts kicking in. His concern was knife-edged, a gut feeling that something was really wrong. He grasped your wrist with swift decisiveness, his voice taking on a steely resolve. 

“We're not finished," he stated firmly, his grip gentle yet insistent.

You averted your gaze, a fleeting vulnerability flashing in your eyes as your carefully constructed defenses were seconds from crumbling. 

He reached for your hands, holding them firmly in his own. 

“Look at me, baby” he urged gently. 

"I didn't want to worry you," you confessed, your voice soft and tinged with regret, but you still avoided his gaze. 

“Worry me?” Dean let out a short laugh. “you’re doing it right now, babe. Look, you’re my world. I’d rather know you're struggling than think everything’s fine when it’s not.”

More silence.

"Sweetheart," Dean uttered gently, "I know this is hard for you to talk about, but you need to talk to me." His thumb brushed just below your chin to lift your gaze toward his. Your eyes were red, and your face was blotchy as you inhaled shakily. Dean's heart shattered at the sight.

That was the final push. The facade pulverized. Tears spilled down your cheeks, and he reached for you, pulling you into his arms as more tears flowed. He tucked your head under his chin, wrapping his arms around you tightly as if he could shield you from any lingering pain and grounding you in the comfort of his presence. 

“I just feel so helpless sometimes,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like every loss weighs down on me. And then I come home, and it’s like I can’t escape those moments. They follow me, haunting me… and I see you, and all I can think about is losing you too.”

Dean’s heart ached at your words. He wished he could take away your pain and fight off those ghosts that plagued your mind. 

“You’re not going to lose me, y/n. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he vowed, his voice steady and firm. 

You took a deep breath, the weight of your confession lifting slightly.  “It just hurts so much,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “And I didn’t want to bring that darkness into our life together.”

Dean's voice carried a tinge of sadness as he spoke, "This has been weighing on you for months, and you've been keeping it to yourself..."

His grip on you tightened as if he could absorb your pain through the closeness. He knew that being a nurse wasn’t just a job for you; it was an emotional battlefield that often took its toll on your heart and soul.

Dean let go to look into your eyes, a deep intensity and vulnerability reflected back at him. The weight of your pain was palpable, a burden you carried alone, and his heart ached for you. 

“We’re in this together, alright? Your pain, your joy—it’s all part of us now. And I’d take all the broken pieces if it meant keeping you whole," he murmured, his voice filled with compassion and unwavering devotion. “Let me be there for you. I’d take every scar, every sleepless night, just to keep a part of you with me. Because every moment we have together—every laugh, every fight, every kiss—it's worth everything to me.”

Your breath hitched and your heart raced as you locked eyes with him, desperately seeking any flicker of doubt in his unwavering gaze. Instead, you found an intensity of devotion that seemed to pierce into the depths of your soul.

Dean felt a natural, instinctive love for you, as effortless as drawing breath, as vital as his ongoing battle against the surrounding darkness.

“Dean, you can’t just—”

“I can,” he interrupted softly, his grip on your hands tightening. “I want to. You’ve been through so much, and I can’t stand to see you suffer alone. I’ll shoulder whatever you need me to. I want to be part of your healing, just like you’ve been a part of my redemption,” he confessed with profound sincerity.

Tears spilled down your cheeks, and for a moment, you felt the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. 

“But what if it breaks you?" you whispered, vulnerability spilling from your lips.

"Then I’ll mend myself," he replied with a fierce intensity. "I promise you, I’d rather be broken alongside you than whole without you."

He pressed a kiss on your forehead, warmth flooding between you two. 

“I’ve dealt with a lot of things in my life—hell, monsters, heartbreak, loss. But I’d fight a hundred more battles if it meant I could protect you from feeling even one more ounce of pain."

As Dean pulled you into his arms, you felt a sense of safety that promised you two would face whatever came next, hand in hand, pain and all. 

Dean’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your back as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck. You inhaled deeply, filling your lungs with his scent of leather, musk, and faint traces of campfire smoke that clung to him. Your warm exhale caressed his skin, and he could feel the subtle curve of your smile against him. He thought you were so beautiful, fitting in his arms perfectly and his heart so completely. 

“My sweet, beautiful, sensitive girl,” Dean whispered, the words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, soothing the storm inside you.

Dean held you tighter, pressing soft kisses into your hair, breathing in the comforting scent of your shampoo—the smell of home. 

Then Dean let go momentarily to look at you.

"Don't hide from me again, baby." He implored with firm conviction in his voice.

"I promise," you vowed sincerely.

The worry etched on your face disappeared as you made eye contact, and despite the exhaustion in his bones, Dean couldn't help but smile.

“God, I missed you,” he said earnestly. 

Dean delicately swept a stray strand of hair behind your ear, sending a shiver down your spine at the sensation of his touch.

Then, without another moment's hesitation, Dean wrapped you in his arms again, pulling you close as your lips met in a tender, yearning kiss. It was sweet and soft, a culmination of longing that had built up over the past month. You melted into him, feeling the familiar warmth of his embrace—how he held you as if you were his entire world. The kiss deepened, filled with an abundance of emotions—relief, love, and a touch of the bittersweet ache of all the days spent apart. 

Dean grinned as you pulled apart. "Now, why don't I order us some takeout? We can binge-watch something terrible together. I'm pretty sure you've missed my awful taste in TV."

You let out a chuckle and nodded. “I’d like that.”

[jacaeryssworld]

skyfall → SYNOPSIS

word count: ~800+

taglist: @nyxbranwenn @deltamoon666

images are not mine! all credits go to creators/owners!

series masterlist | main masterlist

Alysanne Targaryen, second of her name, was the last living child born to King Viserys Targaryen and his first Wife, Aemma Arryn.  She had been born shortly after her Father ascended the Iron Throne after the death of his Grandfather, Jaehaerys Targaryen.  Throughout Alysanne's early life, she kept true to her namesake and behaved much like The Good Queen, treating everyone she passed by with a kindness that rivaled her Great–Grandmothers. But as she grew older and experienced the losses of her loved ones that resulted from the selfishness of her own house, she began to grow bitter and bloodthirsty for all that she has lost.  Her title of The Good Queen Come Again had shifted to Visenya Reborn.  And this is how it all unfolded.

———

Alysanne was only a girl of one and ten when she began to understand that she lived in a man's world. The young girl had known nothing of her place in the world nor did she truly comprehend her duties as the daughter to the King before then. The moment she realized that she would have to follow in the footsteps of all of her ancestors before had hit her full force when her eldest sister, Rhaenyra, was arranged to marry their cousin, Laenor Velaryon. From that moment forth, she realized the kind of value she held to the men around her and to her people, it all becoming more evident the minute Otto Hightower had moved on from mingling with Rhaenyra's life to hers. She was just a chess piece to play with and move around in this intricate game that many were hellbent on winning. Alysanne had no escape and nowhere to run, having no choice but to accept the cards Otto and her Father forced upon her from the moment she was deemed of age.

———

Upon reaching the age of seven and ten, Alysanne Targaryen was to be deemed of age to marry, much like her older sister before her. Even before her King Father announced that she was eligible for the taking, many suitors had sent their proposals to him regarding his young Alysanne. She truly was a beauty in the eyes of the people, something she must've inherited from her late Mother. But after many balls and parties that were thrown in her name and in the sake of her securing a good Husband for herself, she never agreed to a proposal. Her Father and Step–Grandsire began to grow impatient with the teen, resulting to arranging her own marriage after many failed attempts at doing so. It had been announced to all of the Seven Kingdoms that Lady Alysanne Targaryen was to be married to young Lord Cregan Stark once King Viserys made a decision on the suitable match for his daughter. Alysanne was determined to not succumb to the unsatisfactory life many of her ancestors before her had. But try as hard as she might, Cregan Stark was hard not to succumb to. The couple could give it their best to put on a facade and try with all the power they had within them to not let their forced alliance bring about any new feelings, but the heart always wins.

———

After hearing of the challenge to her nephews claim to the throne of Driftmark, Alysanne Targaryen had made her way to King's Landing in support of her sisters second born. She had arrived on dragonback, her loyal mount, Vermithor, thankful to be back in a warm place again. She had been happy to be back home after many moons of being away, basking in the warmth of the Red Keep and her family's open arms. But that happiness soon turned into fear as she began to witness her family tear themselves apart, greed and selfishness beginning to seep through the cracks of the unstable bearings holding them together. The foundation of House Targaryen began to shake once more, slowly but surely crumbling to the ground. And Alysanne would be the only one left to tell the tale.

[cosmic-walkers]

"isn't it funny how alicent's sons are misogynistic but rhaenyra's aren't"

I think we've been over this before but we will do it again. Alicent was forced to have her children, while she was a child. These children were not born out of love, or passion, they were born simply for Viserys to fulfill his need for a son and to push for the Targayrean dynasty. Alicent was an unwilling vessel for that. She did not have the loving environment to cultivate a healthy relationship with her sons because she was always under the thumb of misogynistic, sexist, abusive men (Otto, Viserys and Larys). Up until this moment, Alicent has not even existed for herself. She doesn't understand what it means to exist out of the gaze of misogyny, nor what it means to put herself and her desires above men. So yes, her sons are misogynistic toward her, Aegon dismisses her or tries to, as does Otto, it is a pattern and just now Alicent is learning to defend herself.

LIKE please understand Alicent herself, until now, has only existed as a vessel to push what men want. Even making Aegon king is in her mind, what Viserys wanted. Her sons are misogynistic toward her because up until recently, she's been taught that was her purpose.

Rhaenyra grew up in an environment where her father, despite her being a girl, still made her his heir and at that very moment went back on hundreds of years of tradition. He valued Rhaenyra as more than a vessel or a tool to push the Targaryen dynasty, he did not see her the same way he did Aemma and Alicent - he viewed her as someone who deserved agency and power. Therefore the men in Rhaenyra's reflected that when interacting with her (most of them).

If the king of all people valued Rhaenyra and made her his heir despite being a woman, then she would grow up to believe that women existed outside of the whims and desires of men. She grew up in an environment where her worth as a woman was elevated and she was genuinely seen as a person. She did not have the same life as most women around her and of her generation. She had far more freedom and grace than Alicent. And again the men in her life who lived in proximity to that reinforced that; Laenor, Corlys, Viserys. She was also blessed to be in the company of women who grew up privileged enough to believe that women did not exist only for men's consumption - i.e, Rhaenys and you can even consider Laena.

THAT SAID, of course, when she has that support her relationship with her sons will be different. Her sons don't see her as an obstacle or as someone to ignore because she had the ability and the foundation to correct, or rather, never instill that form of teaching.

I actually loved seeing the contrast of motherhood. We have all been saying Alicent was forced to have Aemond and Aegon, and we can see that as the show goes on, she starts to detest them - barely seeing him as sons IMO. And well, that makes sense. The things she hated and that confined her she begins to see in her own sons. i think it's realistic.

Wherein we have Rhaenyra, who has a very pure, and loving relationship with her sons, Jace specifically. Jace enters, calls her 'Your Grace', and respects her as a queen first and mother second. Then he crumbles into her arms and they cry together. He doesn't just see her as an equal, and i'd venture to say he doesn't. He sees her as above him, as his queen, she has to break the barriers to be seen as a mother. And it isn't a failure in her relationship or raising him, it is the opposite actually. It shows that he respects her, and that he understands her place as rightful queen, and his place as her heir.

REGARDLESS, I'd love to have discussions on Alicent and Rhaenyra without either being shamed or torn apart for things they couldn't control. There is so much comparing and contrasting to be done that would be fun if not done through the scope of misogyny and stan wars.

[and-then-there-were-n0ne]

Lately there has been some discussion and advice on Substack on romantic relationships, containing quotes like the following:

“Women marry hoping their husbands will change; men marry hoping their wives won’t change. And they’re both usually disappointed.”

Different varieties of that quote have appeared at different places during the 20th century. It is a popular saying for a reason: There is something in it.

Producer females, consumer males

I have an (equally anecdotal and unscientific) theory why things are this way: Because for women, romantic relationships are work, aimed at achieving things, while for men, romantic relationships are leisure, aimed at relaxing and having a good time.

That is the number one difference between male and female relationship styles, I think. The usual differences that are well-established by science appear much smaller: Women value commitment higher than men, men like casual relationships more and so on. All this is well-known. But the difference between the sexes in these areas are not that big and pervasive. The male and female averages differ, but there is also a large gender overlap: There are plenty of very devoted men and rather casual-minded women on the market.

Instead I think that the biggest, most consistent difference between male and female relationship styles lies in the amount of intellectual investment in relationship matters. All over the scale from the most casual-minded to the most devoted, women expect relationships to be a kind of work. Exciting, rewarding and even sometimes mind-blowing work. But still, fundamentally, work. Women expect to direct great intellectual effort to their relationships, regardless of what kind of relationships they prefer. [...]

In contrast to that, men all over the casual-devoted scale tend to see their relationships as a reward for work well done. A sexual or romantic relationship is what comes after work. That doesn't mean that men aren't prepared to work to maintain and support their relationships. They just don't expect the relationship in itself to be work. 

The average male approaches potential female romantic partners a bit like consumers of a ready-made product. When a typical man meets the woman of his life, he reacts like someone who opens a package from Amazon. 

The most sought-after husbands react with astonishment when opening the package. They think they have gotten an invaluable product that is worth protecting and maintaining at almost any cost. 

The less sought-after husbands scrutinize their product and assess whether they are likely to get something better or not. They conclude the product needs to be good enough at the moment, but keeps an eye open for other opportunities.

Another less-sought-after kind of husband blandly accepts their product as a fact of life. So this is what they get, they conclude. They don't actively search for anything else, but they also don't invest more than necessary in what is just a mundane part of reality. If someone better, or someone at all, comes up and offers herself, they happily accept. Then their assessment that this-is-it is proven wrong, and the foundation for marriage crumbles. 

Women at work

The same scale of devotion and callousness exists on the female side. The difference is that the typical woman doesn't see a husband as a consumer product. Rather, she sees him as a fundamental building block in her Project Build a Relationship. The most important project in life. 

The most devoted type of wife will adapt her project to the building block she finds. He might be so inspiring and impressive that he gives her entirely new ideas for Project Build a Relationship. However, not even the most devoted wives get completely stricken with awe. Because essentially, they are at work. That requires a measure of clarity of thought. Those few women who actually get completely enchanted by their male partners will lose more or less all their agency in the process. They will be caught up in a grand project where someone else controls the steering wheel. 

Less devoted types of wives will be on the look-out for their ideal building blocks. If one who seemed promising enough is not keeping up to expectations, they will discard him and search for a new one. Not uncommonly, they will scout the market for a new and better partner through having an affair.

What they will mostly not do, is acting as haplessly as men. They can be just as callous, insensitive and disloyal to their partner. But they will not be as clueless. Whether they are of the devoted and loyal kind or the more opportunistic kind, they will take their relationships seriously. They will not just slip into relationships and affairs. When they enter a relationship, it is with the intention of building a relationship. When they enter an affair, it is mostly with the intention of trying out an alternative partner without immediately giving up the first one.

Essentially, building relationships is the great project of human females. They sometimes make mistakes and think they can build a relationship with a man who is hopelessly badly suited for the purpose, or leave a man who seems as promising as any to an outside observer. But in general, they are using all their IQ points when they build relationships. They do not always succeed, but they are trying very hard. 

Even the most loyal and devoted husbands are not really as women tend to be. They are prepared to invest enormous amounts of work in the object of their passion. But they would prefer that she came with a manual. However much they are prepared to sacrifice for their priceless partner, they see her as an object of devotion rather than as a project. They happily accept a very high price. But they mostly don't get the idea that they are supposed to spend great intellectual effort on figuring out how to pay that price.

Only circumstantial proof

The basis of my assertions above are 

A large number of anecdotes acquired throughout life

A few pieces of circumstantial proof from science that point in the same direction

The presence of a couple of writers who have made more or less the same observations as me

My personal anecdotes are, well, personal anecdotes and in themselves too petty to mention here. The scientific clues are, more or less:

* Women talk and read more about relationships than men.

* Men fall in love more easily than women.

* American men are happier with their partners when cohabitating than when married, while American women are less happy in cohabiting relationships than in marriage.

* Women initiate divorce much more often than men. 

* Stable romantic relationships between homosexual men tend to be fewer per capita than lesbian and heterosexual relationships. Without women working on and maintaining relationships, it seems like the number of stable relationships decreases.

I'm not completely certain that all the above assertions are the product of conclusive or even good science. But at least they were obtained using some kind of scientific method. [...]

Where does all that female IQ go? 

If writers like Matthew Fray are right that men underperform in relationships compared to their general intelligence, that leads to another question: Do women underperform in areas other than relationships, since they put so much of their time and energy and intellectual resources into relationships?

It is a relevant question, because women clearly seem to be underperforming in intellectual pursuits. A hundred years ago that could be explained by gender oppression and discrimination. But that is not the case today. [...]

We always have the explanation that there are fewer women with very high IQs. Males and females have about the same average IQ, but the male curve has fatter tails: There are more low-IQ males and more very high-IQ males.

The problem with that explanation is that in most intellectual areas, IQ above a certain level is a poor predictor of performance, as I wrote more about here. The greater frequency of high IQs should benefit males in physics and mathematics. But males also outperform females in areas where there is little measurable female disadvantage. Whatever area we are looking at, except maybe the most feminine like fashion design, there are more males than females at the top. 

The reason could be that those less measurable abilities that make people interesting intellectuals are distributed just like IQ, with fatter tails on the male side. But it could also be that females have another distribution of interests than males. If a male philosopher turns his brain off when he enters a new relationship, maybe that leaves him the freedom to engage more with philosophy. Relaxing at home can probably save men some effort they can use in intellectual endeavors. And conversely, intense fretting over relationships probably takes female intellectual attention away from the world of science and philosophy.

Traces of oppression 

If my perception that men spend comparatively little intellectual effort on relationships is right, there are two possible explanations:

Environmental influences

Hardwired, biological causes

If there lies something in the biological explanation, I think that is yet another sign that history hasn't been very gender equal. Human males evolved to invest in their partner and children - and to invest quite a lot. But that investment tends to be of the objective kind. Men typically want to invest in what they find valuable.

That points to a history of relative unfreedom for females. If females had any important means of hurting the prospects of husbands who didn't please them, I think males would have evolved better abilities to care about female subjective feelings. The current division of relational labor simply suggests that during history, men were more important to women than women were to men. If the cost of a non-functioning relationship was higher for the female party than for the male party, it would be a safe bet for males to shift over the burden of making relationships work to females. That is just game theory. [...]

If there is any biological background to the leisurely male approach to relationships, it is a sign that entertaining relationships wasn't the main job for men. Negotiating, trading, plotting and fighting with other men probably was the real job. Actually being with the woman was the easy part. Time to relax and reap the fruits of hard work and good fortune.

The lost manual

As long as men dominated women, ignoring the finer nuances of female subjective feelings was a rather safe strategy. When male superiority over females gradually dissolved, men still weren't required to become relationship connoisseurs. Instead they were given a manual for how a decent husband was supposed to behave. It consisted of points like:

*Be faithful.

*Work hard to support your family.

*Invest the bulk of your money in your family.

*Show your partner appreciation through obtaining as valuable gifts as you can sensibly afford. 

*If a woman obviously puts a lot of effort into looking sexy, don't pursue her for a long-term relationship. Slutshame her instead.

As long as such a manual existed, there was a way for men to invest labor and resources in their relationship without much intellectual effort. They could just follow the manual and please partners and potential partners sufficiently. When the manual was taken away in the name of individualism and liberalism, people had to figure out for themselves how to invest. This arrangement hit disproportionately against those who didn't have the habit and propensity to figure relationship stuff out. 

The ubiquity of male sexlessness and loneliness made numerous men enter that traditionally female realm of relationship theory. But mostly only very superficially. Discussions within the incel sphere are predominantly about how to catch the interest of a willing desirable woman and little about how to build a relationship with that desirable woman.9 Even the most desperate men take the same road as their much more successful ancestors and leave relationship matters to women. (There are indeed a few male writers, like Jakob Falkovich, who are using their intellectual gifts to reason about relationship dynamics and who have people from the incel sphere in their audience. But so far it hasn't led to a mass movement.)

The main difference compared to before is that women's right not to be interested is now very much of a concern and cause of aggrievement. She doesn't need him more than he needs her. But while she spends a lot of time and effort figuring out whether it is worth it and in what way, he can only haplessly observe whether she wants to stay with him or not. In a world of gender equality, male disinterest in relationship dynamics has become a liability.

It seems like most men don’t want to spend any substantial portion of their intellectual capacity on relationship theory. The real question is: Can they get away with it? Or has the evolution of relationship theorists finally started also on the male side?