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ohtobeleah · 5 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter One: [The Diagnosis]

Summary: The last thing you ever expected was to be diagnosed with breast cancer. To make matters worse? You’d been separated from the love of your life for just shy of a year. How do you tell the love of your life you might be dying? It’s simple really— You don’t.

Warnings: Mentions of Cancer Diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Separation. Marriage issues. Mentions of death.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author Note: I've put so much love, passion and time into this series. I'd love to hear all your theories and concepts as each chapter is released.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

December 31st

Jake Seresin tried his best to hide the wet tears that fell down his cheeks as he sat with his kids on the lounge of the home that he had tried his best to keep as tidy as he could. There was a lot of uncertainty, a lot of frustration, a lot of fear and unbelievable sadness that surrounded Jake and your three small children. The unknown was truly tragic, terrifying and treacherous, but Jake wasn’t about to let his kids see the way he so desperately wanted to cry. He didn't want his kids to know how truly broken he was.

“What did mum get you for Christmas daddy?” Little Lenny asked cautiously, knowing the emotions were still raw for them all. He was just six years old but Lennox Seresin knew his life had changed forever. That something had been ripped from his heart never to be returned.

Jake held the small present in the palm of his hand, the present he had yet to open. The present he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It felt like something he’d held before, the weight felt all too familiar. It haunted him the more he carried it around, held it in the palm of his hand and contemplated the inevitable.

“I dunno buddy, you reckon I should open it?” Jake asked as he kissed his son's head. “S’not Christmas anymore.” The Naval Aviator had recently shaved his head, it had been the closest to a number one he’d ever had. It was in solidarity, union. A decision he made in the blink of an eye but one he did not regent or ever would.

“We haven’t taken the tree down yet.” Lucy added her two cents into the conversation as she laid her head on her father’s thigh. “Mum would be upset if you didn’t open it dad.” Jake knew that much was true, you probably would be pretty bent out of shape if he never opened it.

“Alright, I better open it then huh?” Jake shook the small perfectly wrapped box he could hold in the palm of his hand. He heard what sounded like a rock rattle inside. His heart nearly exploded inside his chest.

Fuck….Jake knew what it was and he really didn’t want to open it.

But before we get to that we need to go back a little. So settle in, grab your tissues and emotional support water bottle and hold on for dear life. Because this Christmas isn’t your average festive Christmas fic: No—this one’s something much more heartbreaking.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

November: 2nd

“I need you to take the kids for Christmas—“ It was the first thing Jake heard come through the phone as he held it up to his ear. It had been a few days since he’d last heard from you, not that you owed him daily check ins or regular updates, you owed him nothing, after all the two of you had been separated for just shy of a year now. January had been the start of his new beginning, Lieutenants Jake Hangman, soon to be divorced, couldn’t hack it as a husband, Seresin. The title was pretty long winded and riddled with self pity, but Jake wouldn’t ever let himself forget how much he’d let you down as a husband. As a father, as best friend.

The two of you had been college lovers. The star crossed kind of lovers with Jake being the very definition of Mr Popularity and yourself being the well mannered and reserved library dweller. You’d only stumbled across each other's paths one day in the unlikely event that Jake needed to borrow an actual hard copy of a Douglas A Howard book on the Ottoman Empire.

He ran right into you—and to this day had never stopped loving you. His Honey.

“Are we not splitting it between my family and yours like we said?” Jake frowned as he stepped out of his truck in the car park on base. You could hear the familiar jingle of his car keys as he shut the door of that black F150 he loved so much behind himself.

Your contact remained unchanged, it was simply Honeybee. That term of endearment that illuminated his entire phone screen never boded very well in Jake's favour when it came to his meaningless conquests. Hard Deck Badge Bunnies were a dime a dozen, but they were never you. Never the woman he longed for the most. Never the woman Jake let down more than enough times to count on two hands.

They were never you, because you left him January seventh at approximately four thirty in the afternoon. Jake would never forget that moment, that unimaginable heartbreak of finally coming to the gut wrenching conclusion that you had a limit. Hearing your voice through the phone as he pulled into work made him remember that you were across the country with his three kids in tow. You weren’t his anymore, he’d loved and lost you and didn’t know how to fix what he’d broken.

“I thought we were gonna—“

There wasn’t an easy way to explain to your ex husband how you were sitting in the doctor's office as you spoke to him looking at your last mammogram results. Aggressive Breast Cancer, Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma. Merry fucking Christmas. So, you interrupted him with a quick explanation, one so out of character and born out of pure panic to keep your newfound diagnosis of stage three breast cancer that needed to be treated as soon as possible before it could progress.

“I’ve been invited on a friend's trip, we’re going—“ Jake pretends not to hear the slight pause you took in your explanation, he decided it was because you feel guilty for dumping the kids on him like this. He knows you're not a bad mum, that’s why the kids he loves so dearly and with all his heart spend more time with you in Rhode Island than they do with him in North Island. “To Banff, yeah they booked a few rooms in the Sunshine Village but it’s a no kids trip.”

“You deserve it.” Jake doesn’t want to argue, it’s what ruined your marriage to begin with. The constant arguing back and forth over everything under the sun. But what Jake knew now that he didn’t back then was that over ninety percent of the time those arguments started because you were just begging him to love you the way you deserved. He’d never put you first a day in your marriage even though you’d selflessly followed him across the country to whatever posting, away from your family and friends, birthed his children, twins with heads just as big as his. You gave him love and support and thought he’d do the same in return.

But the reciprocal love in the form of equality never came no matter how long you waited or gave Jake, the love of your life, your best friend, the father of your children, the benefit of the doubt. It was you who cooked and cleaned and took care of the kids. It was you who stayed home night after night wondering when Jake would be home. It was you who stayed up riddled with anxiety that his last mission would be just that. It was you who heard the rumours about your husband in every city or small town you moved to. That he was a lady killer, a smooth talking guy with a cock sure attitude. He was the prize at the end of any lucky ladies night.

Except for you. But you never questioned your husband’s loyalty, never once asked or believed what everyone told you. That’s just who Jake was—a charismatic man with a heart of gold that was often overlooked. He was the best of the best and he’d stop at nothing to get where he wanted to go, to the very top. If Jake Seresin had to move a mountain to achieve his dream of becoming Commander of the Pacific Fleet then he was going to move that mountain. It was one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with his very closested dorky self.

You just never expected him to drop that very mountain on top of you and bury you alive under the pressure of keeping three beautiful kids alive, working, making sure there was food on the table for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The endless hours of housework that went unnoticed or the constant stress of being the default parent while deployments passed and new assignments came around.

Love sometimes isn’t enough, and Jake, despite the endless love you had for the man who made you a mother and a wife, wasn’t enough. He didn’t love you the way you loved him. Endlessly and without hesitation. Jake had always been your number one priority along with your kids, but you weren’t even on his list.

Jake knew he messed up when you told him you were leaving, he begged you not to, begged you on his knees to stay, that’s he’d change for you, be a better man for you and the kids. That he would do better, be better, be the man you fell in love with. But it was too late.

He wished he’d listened to you all the times that you had begged him to, so now? He didn’t want to argue, not with the woman he loved so dearly and missed so badly.

“I’ll take the kids, no problem, just tell me when I need to be at the airport and I’ll meet you guys there.”

You’d expected a fight, some sort of push back or argument to come from the other end of the phone call as you sat in your doctor's office with eyes trained heavily on your mammogram. But it never came and that made you sure that your ex husband had well and truly fallen out of love with you the way you wished you could with him. At least he cared enough before to argue, now? It was just passive stupidity.

“Okay, will do.” You pressed your lips together in an effort to not blurt out that you had asked your doctor if you were going to die and she had told you that she couldn’t answer that. In your mind that was a yes, yes you were dying and you felt like you couldn’t tell the one man you’d ever loved that you were taking that one way ticket to the place he’d once told you he wished you’d go in one of your long winded arguments. Hell. “I’ll uh—I’ll get the kids organised and explain what’s going on and I’ll text you all the information, sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan, Honeybee.” Jake had yet to kick that old habit. He cringed as the terms of endearment left his mouth and stilled in his tracks. “All good on my end.” His attempt to stumble awkwardly through his mistaken term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed by you in the slightest bit. Your stomach filled with butterflies at the terms that had slipped past your ex husband's lips on the other end of the line.

You missed him, you missed what the two of you used to be before things got so complicated. You missed the gentle nature of Jake's charisma before he fell so deep into the persona he played up for his colleagues and country. The Hangman. Always leaving people hanging, including his wife.

Jake was just and always would be simply Jake Seresin to you. Your now ex husband but still and forever the love of your life.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon, bye Jake, have a good day.” You hung up before your tears could spill from your lower lash line and left out a heavy sigh. As you closed your eyes and imagined what it would be like to be held in this moment by the man who promised he’d be there for you in sickness and in health, you reminded yourself why you left. You weren’t good enough for him to love you the way you deserved. How could you expect him to love you now when he couldnt even fix a fucking faucet when you asked?

“Okay, so what’s the next step?” Your doctor just looked at you with sympathetic eyes that told you this wasn’t going to be easy. She took a deep breath and handed you a treatment plan that was in her opinion, the best case scenario for your specific type of cancer.

“You fight for your family, Mrs Seresin.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21@tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer

#was it over? // jake seresin #jake seresin #tw: cancer #tw: breast cancer #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x female!reader #top gun fan fiction #top gun fandom #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader

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imtryingbuck · 11 days

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Seventy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 3,104

Warnings: angst, heavy use of pet names. fluff. swearing. death (cancer)

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

In the fifteen years that has passed Bucky and Y/n became grandparents to a whopping eleven beautiful grandchildren. Each one of them being well and truly spoiled by their grandparents.

Georgia and Billy got married six months after they proposed to each other, two months later they found out they were having a baby. Natalia was born three weeks prematurely, though still tiny she was strong, always kicking her little legs out and had a set of lungs on her. Two years after Georgia gave birth to another baby girl naming her Scarlet after Billy’s favourite superhero character the Scarlet Witch.

Another two years go by and she gives birth to another baby girl named Aurora, or Rory as Y/n always calls her. Four years later Georgia rings her mom to say she’s pregnant again, the whole family getting a shock of a lifetime when they find out that she was pregnant with triplets. Two girls and a boy, Marya, Django and Rebecca, named after Wanda and Pietro’s parents and Bucky’s sister.

Jamie had three children with his now ex-wife, Nicole, though they divorced and she remarried they remained good friends and were amazing at co-parenting with each other. Ryder, Levi and Angel. Angel was born on Bucky’s birthday which he did not shut up about.

Stevie and his boyfriend Ryan had adopted a baby girl when she was a month old, she had the most brightest green eyes Y/n had ever seen. She was born with a cleft lip and her biological mother didn’t want her which was truly a shame as Quinn could melt anyone’s heart just by looking at them.

Sammy and his girlfriend Eva surprised everyone by announcing that she was pregnant, she had been told when she was younger that she was never going to be able to get pregnant which was something she had come to terms with, but she gave birth to a healthy baby boy who they named James, after Bucky and Eva’s dad.

Howard passed away in his sleep two years after Georgia got married. Y/n and Tony held his hands when he passed. He was buried with his one true love, Maria. With Grace on one side and on the other was George and Winnie.

Grace and Bunny’s Haven became successful, another two Havens in different locations had been build and were now being used by men and women. There were plans to build a fourth Haven but it had to be put on hold.

In a year they must have seen hundreds of faces and heard similar stories. No matter how many times she heard them it didn’t stop her heart from aching each time.

Bucky’s and Y/n’s marriage was just as strong as it had ever been, Steve mocked them once for being sickly sweet so Bucky grabbed Y/n by her hand and pulled her into him and kissed her, both putting on a little show for their friends. That was until Georgia was sick.

She was pregnant at the time.

That’s their defence anyway.

The love that they had for each other continued to grow as the years went on. He was still her Ducky and she was still his Bunny. Natalia once asked Y/n if Bunny was her real name and she had to explain that it was a nickname, then explained why her grandpa called her Bunny, the little girl smiled before running to tell Georgia that her grandmas real name wasn’t Bunny.

Two weeks before Y/n and Bucky celebrated their thirty ninth wedding anniversary Y/n started coughing up blood, Bucky rushed her straight to the hospital panic filling his veins the whole time he drove there.

After blood tests were done a doctor sat the couple down and told Y/n that she had cancer. It was terminal.

It took her back to when Maria had been told the same thing, and just like Maria she didn’t cry no she asked questions whilst Bucky held her hand tighter and tighter to the point where it was hurting her but she never once removed her hand away from his. She needed him. Needed him to help ground her.

Y/n begged Bucky not to tell anyone, at least not until after their anniversary which he hesitantly agreed.

They spent their anniversary at the cabin they had been renting for the past thirty nine years to celebrate the date they became one, through the whole week they were there Bucky cried, he couldn’t understand why it was her that had cancer, to him it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she out of all people had been diagnosed with cancer, it’s wasn’t fair after all her kindness and love she shared and gave to others that she was going to be dying a slow death.

He couldn’t understand how she remained so calm throughout her diagnosis and the week they were away.

“I’ve lived an amazing life Ducky, everything will be okay I promise” she told him as she held him in her arms, wiping his tears off his cheeks and kissing his forehead.

A week after finding out that she had terminal cancer she and Bucky sat their kids down, their hearts breaking at seeing and hearing the most important people to them crying, shaking their heads in denial, Y/n got up and grabbed a hold of her children squeezing them into her chest tight, telling them how much she loves each and every one of them. She couldn’t stress enough of how proud she was of them. Bucky joined in on the family hug, all six of them crumbling together on to the floor.

Telling the group plus Tony was difficult too, all of them in denial about what Y/n was telling them. Each of them couldn’t believe that the strongest one out of them all had been diagnosed with a vile disease such as cancer.

Even with getting chemotherapy to try and slow down the cancer she was becoming weaker not like it stopped her from doing her work at Grace and Bunny’s Haven. Bucky tried and failed to get her to slow down but she wouldn’t, couldn’t as she wanted to continue being there for those who came to her for help before she passed.

“Nanny sweetie” Y/n looked down to see Quinn staring up at her with those wide green eyes that she loved so much.

“You want a sweetie darling?”

“Yes pwease nanny”

“Who am I to say no to you huh? Go ahead and get one sweetheart”

“You spoil her too much you know mom” Stevie said as he came into the living room where she was.

“I know I do but look at them cheeks”

Stevie stood by the couch and stared down at his mom, his heart ached at seeing her looking weak, something he never thought he would ever see or say about his mom. To him she was the strongest person he had even known and possibly would ever know. It had been just over a year since her diagnosis and though she was getting chemotherapy it wasn’t doing much other than delay the inevitable.

Two months prior Y/n and Bucky celebrated their fortieth anniversary, their children planned and organised a party for them at their home. Family and friends were all there to celebrate the love and memories of their time together.

Y/n cried at the surprise and seeing all their loved ones all together, Bucky cried knowing it was the last anniversary they were going to celebrate.

“H-how are you feeling today mom?”

“I’m okay don’t worry about me pumpkin”

“Mom-“ he sighed softly he knew she was still putting up a front, still trying to keep up a positive outlook though all those around her could see her smile fading everyday. “How are you, really?”

“I-I’m scared of dying if I’m honest Stevie, b-but like I told your dad I’ve lived a great life so I’m okay with what’s happening”

Stevie sits next to his mom holding her hands as he started to struggle with keeping his tears at bay. The strongest person he knows had just told him that she was scared. He didn’t realise that he had tears falling from his eyes until Y/n reached out and wiped his cheeks.

“Oh don’t cry my dear boy, everything will be okay I just know it”

“B-but you’re going to die mom, your d-dying an-an-and I can’t do anything to s-stop it from happening” Stevie stuttered out, he was always the one out of the four siblings that wanted to help everyone and anyone, he always felt like he had failed somehow if he couldn’t help people.

“St-Stevie look at me- oh my sweet boy everything is going to be okay I promise. You can’t control this and neither can I but everything will be okay”

“B-but what do I do without you momma?”

“Live your life to the fullest, love until your heart and soul are content, make memories and for the love of god keep being yourself Stevie. And when things get tough just look up at the sky night or day and just know I’m looking down on you, even though I’m not going to be here physically doesn’t mean your getting away from me, alright?”

Stevie nods with tears running down his cheeks, hugging his mom tightly and promising her that he will do everything she told him too. They separate when Quinn comes stumbling over with chocolate all over her face, smiling widely not understanding the conversation between her dada and nanny.

A month after having that conversation with Stevie, Y/n took a turn for the worse. Bucky knew the end was near for his Bunny, when that realisation hit him he went to the toilet and puked up.

On Wednesday 20th August, Bucky stood from the doorway watching his wife, his one and true love, his Bunny sleeping in their bed, his coloured eyes went from her face to her chest to make sure it was still rising.

“Y-you watching me sleep Ducky?” Her soft voice whispered filling in the quiet room.

“Of course my sweet Bunny”

“Duck-“

“Not today baby please”

“I-I don’t think I have another d-day in me Duck”

“Pl-please Bun”

Y/n smiled weakly, slowly patting the bed for him to come over. Holding his hand she raised his hand to her lips where she placed a lingering kiss to his knuckles.

“I-I don’t want the kids being in the room when I go Ducky, please promise me that they won’t be here.”

“Why?”

“It’s not fair on them to see me go Ducky, so please promise me”

“I-I promise Bunny, I promise”

Hand in hand for about thirty minutes, Bucky slowly stood and stumbled downstairs to grab his phone. Ringing Georgia his voice shook as he told her that she needed to get everyone to the house so that they could say their goodbyes, leaning heavily against the counter his heart cracking when he could hear his oldest child breaking down on the other end of the phone, he could hear Billy’s voice cracking in the background as he tried to get their children ready.

Coming off the phone to Georgia he rang Jamie to tell him the same, he knew he was currently with the twins. He rang Tony, then Steve asking his longest friend if he could tell everyone else, he simply couldn’t have that conversation once again. Climbing the stairs and heading into their bedroom Bucky sighed a breath of relief when he noticed her chest still rising and falling, he let her know that everyone was on their way.

“Duck, have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Every day for the past forty three years” Bucky admits with a smile.

“Thank you for the best years of my life James, you’ve al-always made me happy you know? You’re my world, my light, my better half my love, I’ve lived a life full of happiness and I’ve known true love because of you, so thank you Ducky”

Bucky makes no attempt to wipe the heavy stream of tears away, he tries to find the words to tell her how much she means to him but before he could find them the bedroom door opens revealing his greatest achievements.

Their children.

Bucky sits back and lets his children and best friends say their goodbyes in their own ways, his heart feeling heavier and heavier the longer they are there. He sits there with his hand in hers watching his Bunny smile at each member of their very large family, he knows that she accepted her fate the moment the doctor told her the news, he knows even though she’s scared of death and of the unknown that comes with it, scared of leaving her loved ones behind and of the thought of never seeing any of them again.

Despite the ending of her story coming to an end so soon she still keeps a smile on her lips, trying to show her family that it’s okay, it’s okay that she’s going to be going to sleep soon and never waking back up.

After an hour of being surrounded by the people who meant the world to her she gives Bucky a look silently telling him that it was time. Choking back a sob he tells his children and best friends that they needed to leave, each of them confused until Y/n speaks up and tells them that she doesn’t want any of them being there, each of them trying to protest - fear and the truth of what was happening making them stay in place, until Bucky gave them all a single look.

The family they created stumbled out of the room, holding on to each other. Before shutting the door behind him Tony took one last long at his baby sister, his heart breaking at the sight in front of him.

Bucky climbing into the bed next to his only love clinging to her like a lifeline.

“I love you Bunny, I love you so much Y/n thank you for everything. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be yours. I-I love you, I love you.” Bucky whispers as he sees the eyes belonging to the only woman who he’s ever loved purely and deeply, the woman who he watched give life four times, the woman who gave his life meaning. The woman who he’s loved since he was an innocent little child who didn’t really know the meaning of love, starting to flutter closed.

“I’ll be with you soon my love” he again whispers, so terrified to speak any louder as she would hear the way his voice cracks, he needed to be strong for her. He couldn’t let her down.

Georgia walked into the room with slow timid steps. Falling to her knees with a loud thud she releases a gut wrenching sob which has her brothers, uncles and aunts flinching and bowing their heads.

“Wh-when do we get to give nanny her birthday presents?” Rory asks innocently, completely unaware of why everyone was crying.

Standing in front of so many people, many she knew, many she didn’t. Georgia though her heart ached as she stood at the podium next to her mommas coffin she smiled. Smiled at seeing that so many people had come to say goodbye and pay their respect to her beautiful mom, smiled at seeing them all dressed in bright clothes. Georgia told everyone that she didn’t want anyone wearing black.

Georgia smiled at seeing all the people who had gone to Y/n to seek help had arrived at the church. The air got caught in her throat when she saw the four women and the first man who were the first people to arrive at Y/n’s sanctuary were all sitting together.

“My mom was the greatest woman I had ever met, strong and beautiful. Her heart knew no bounds, she always saw the good in people. My mom was my best friend, the person so many people could turn to for help or a shoulder to cry on o-or just someone to hold them. My mom is and will always be my hero. Her laugh was infectious and so was her smile, my mom would make jokes about things that weren’t really funny but she would laugh and you just couldn’t help but laugh along. She truly was an inspiration to me and too many others. Her love for my dad was beyond words, she loved him so deeply and wholeheartedly, so purely. I am beyond proud to say that I am the daughter of Y/n Barnes”

She looks towards Billy who nods slowly as to encourage her to continue. She wipes the tears from her eyes.

“My dad was incredible, funny, loving and one of the kindest men I had ever met. My dad was the reason why my mom was able to create Grace and Bunny’s Haven, he supported her every step of the way, supported strangers and friends. His love like my mom’s knew no bounds-“ the feeling of her throat drying and closing has her coughing lightly.

“I’m sorry. The love my dad had for my mom was so strong that everyone who knew or just saw them together could see how much he loved her, could see that my mom was his whole world. I am beyond proud to say that I am the daughter of James Barnes”

Looking sadly at her father’s coffin lying right next to her moms she breathes deeply. “On behalf of my family I would like to say thank you to all those that have come today, thank you for donating money towards Grace and Bunny’s Haven, thank you for your kind words and stories of how our parents touched your lives. Tha-thank you”

Steve watches his niece as she steps down from the podium, her hands shaking as she moved towards Billy who stood up and took her hand in his. “I’m so proud of you baby” he whispered into her ear. He smiled at the memory of Bucky doing the same to Y/n when she spoke at Maria’s funeral.

He looks at the two coffins lying there, knowing that his two best friends were in them, knowing that one died of cancer and the other of a broken heart, made his eyes sting with unshed tears.

Y/n passed away in the arms of her Ducky.

Bucky passed away with his arms around his Bunny.

And side by side they were buried next to their parents.

A/N: I was listening to Elvis Presley Bridge Of Troubled Water and Always On My Mind writing their deaths…and when I say I was sobbing I mean I was s. o. b. b. i. n. g.

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1 @sibsteria @spencerreidisagorgman @sapphirebarnes @bruher @hawkinsavclub1983 @onlyonetifosi @parisadams @unabashedstarlightcrown @nash-dara @allofffmypeaches @loki-laufeyson68 @behindmygreyeyes @missvelvetsstuff @pigeonmama @lizslibrary @gloriouspurpose01 @gaya-is-weird-af @capsbestgirl77

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meidui · 26 days

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fics about tony's aging

rough enough for love by @silkspectred

The first time they had sex was right after their first kiss. Steve dropped to his knees and then Tony reciprocated after making Steve lie down on the bed. The second time it was Steve that initiated it, slow handjobs under the hot spray of the shower, and Tony looked surprised by it. Like it was weird that Steve wanted it. Wanted him.

No Better Version of Me by talesofsuspense

When Tony announces his retirement publicly, he’s not ashamed to admit he cries.

It Will Be This, Always by @pineapplebread

Steve has started to notice recently that Tony shies away from his reflection, and finds him cataloging and criticizing his scars and greying hair. Steve finds it unacceptable that Tony sees himself as anything but beautiful and perfect.

Sixty by @sibmakesart

Tony's sixtieth birthday is coming.

will you still want me (when i'm nothing new) by meidui

It's the night of their wedding rehearsal dinner and Tony doesn't love his aging. Steve does.

Mitigation of the Mildly Miserable by @deervsheadlights

Tony wakes up to the realization that not only is he getting old, but somewhere along the way, he has also put on a noteworthy amount of chub.

Iron Man has a pouch. Wow.

A Love's Work by PGHumfort

“You’re too patient with me.” Tony replied, quietly resigned.

There had been a difficult time in Tony’s 60s, after some tabloid had published a series of pictures, gathered over the course of a few months, and titled it ’15 times Tony Stark looked like his husband’s dad’. Tony had sunken into a feverish spiral, searching for a ‘cure’ for aging while simultaneously trying to convince Steve to divorce him, because he was only going to get older.

It had taken time and long nights of talking and lovemaking to bring his husband back into the moment with him. Somehow, Tony had forgotten that Steve meant the ‘until death do us part’ portion of their vows.

four footprints (side by side) by @ladymacbethsarmy

Tony laughs mirthlessly, “I always thought I’d die as Iron Man,” he says, and it’s nothing Steve doesn’t know because Tony never held back, never hesitated back then. His eyes always said huh, maybe next time. “I didn’t think I’d make it to my sixties. And now I’m sixty two and I have no idea what awaits me.”

“A very long vacation?” Steve offers weakly, and is surprised when Tony laughs.

Silver Fox by @arukou-arukou

Howard's motto was "Stark men are made of iron." Tony's is "Never let 'em see you bleed."

#once in a while something comes over me and this is all i want to read and then its a downward spiral where i think too hard about mortality #._.#stony #stevetony #fic rec #*

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ginnsbaker · 8 months

Text

Maybe You Were The Ocean

Summary: Wanda was... an open-ended chapter in your life.

Word count: 6.3k+ | Tags: Heavy Angst, Character Death, Bittersweet ending

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by @gingiesworld:

Y/N and Wanda have been together for a while and Pietro calls Y/N one night, needing a lift home from a friends party. On that night they get hit by another drunk driver and Pietro dies on impact. As time goes on and the other driver is arrested, y/n still blames themselves for Pietro's death. Even though Wanda continuously tries to tell them otherwise but they won't listen. They then yell at her "why don't you blame me? You should hate me for your brother dying." Before walking out. Can be either a happy or sad ending buddy. Whichever you decide

Author's note: I changed some minor details in the request, hope you don't mind Gingie. Thank you for this gut-wrenching monster, it allowed me to practice writing in past tense (so out of my comfort zone lol). Title is from "black flies" by ben howard, listen to that as well when you read ;)

Masterlist

Now

You haven't been to something like this in what seems like ages.

That something being a wedding.

And if you were to keep count, you'd realize you've been to more funerals than weddings in your lifetime so far.

Your best friend looks like a goddess in her white dress—and anyone with eyes can see that the groom is the luckiest man on earth.

You’re fixing your hair in front of the mirror when she approaches, wearing a smile that you’ve never seen on her, a smile you’d never be able to put on her lips yourself. It’s a smile reserved for him—that lucky bastard.

She gently taps on your shoulder. “You’re going to make me cry if you keep looking so stunning,” she teases, her voice light with laughter.

You chuckle, your eyes meeting hers in the mirror. “It's your day, and nothing can overshadow how beautiful you look.”

“Promise me something,” she says suddenly, her bright eyes locking onto yours.

“Anything,” you reply without hesitation.

“Promise me that you won’t stop looking for this kind of happiness. Promise me you'll find someone who puts that same smile on your face,” she whispers.

Your throat tightens, words caught somewhere between heartache and hope. “I promise.”

Then

You were eight years old when you moved to a new neighborhood.

At that age, it felt like the scariest thing that had ever happened to you. Your parents divorced, your mother got full custody, and once the judge made that call, she packed up everything familiar and moved you to a new state: New Jersey.

It was what she could manage back then. This place was nothing like the spacious suburbs you remembered, and your new apartment building seemed no bigger than your old living room back in California. The place had just one bedroom, and it was hard to tell where the dining area stopped and the kitchen started.

You resented her in the way a child might, not fully grasping responsibility or consequences. You were upset she took you away from your friends and the comfort of your old life. You didn’t see back then the bruises hidden beneath her shirt, the ones your father left. You only learned about them when you turned eighteen. By then, your resentment had faded long ago.

A week after moving into that aged building, you encountered the twins next door, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff. Initially, you met Pietro when his mother sent him over with some food to welcome you and your mom to the neighborhood. It wasn't until you and Pietro became inseparable friends, spending every possible moment together, that you met Wanda.

When you did meet her, you weren't fond of her. She seemed aloof and mostly kept to herself. Unlike her expressive brother, Wanda seldom voiced her thoughts, making conversations with her feel uninspiring.

You and Pietro often clashed with Wanda over the television. You both wanted to play video games while Wanda preferred her sitcoms. Pietro would let Wanda watch her shows briefly before forcefully switching channels just to annoy her. Eventually, Wanda would retreat to her room in tears, and Pietro would steel himself for a reprimand when their mother returned home.

You would give Wanda a piece of chocolate because you felt bad, but you never asked Pietro to stop, fearing he might stop being your best friend. In return, Wanda would lend you her pocketbooks you’d never quite finish.

You hadn't realized it back then, but that dynamic would continue well into your teen years. With Pietro stirring up trouble left and right, you being caught in the middle, and Wanda, from a distance, observing you with cautious interest—perhaps wishing it had been her who brought the welcoming food instead of her brother.

Now

The wedding isn’t going to start for another hour. There have been delays due to the weather.

With the archways and open corridors adorned with blooming flowers and drapes, the venue looks nothing short of magical, even with the looming clouds. From where you stand, you extend your arm, letting the light drizzle kiss your skin. Each droplet feels like nature's way of playing with the day's emotions—adding both melancholy and charm.

Someone nearby remarks, “You know it's considered good luck when it rains on one's wedding day.”

You merely smile politely in response.

“Are you a friend of the bride’s or the groom's?”

“The bride,” you reply.

“Oh, fantastic! Maybe you can convince her to finally see she’s way out of his league!”

You shake your head at the joke. It’s not even the first time you've heard it today.

Then

It wasn't until you were fifteen and Pietro, seventeen, that the troubles you found yourselves in became more serious.

It had also been a few months since Pietro introduced you to drugs other than weed. At first, it was just an occasional joint passed around at a party or behind the school building. But Pietro wanted to try riskier substances. You weren't as keen but didn't want to be left behind by your best friend.

One evening, after trying something a bit harder than usual, you and Pietro were wandering the streets, laughing way too loud. In his intoxicated state, Pietro suddenly swung at a parked car with his bat, smashing it. Almost immediately, patrol lights shone bright, and stern police voices could be heard from almost everywhere. Pietro got cornered, but sheer panic made you bolt. Ditching your best friend felt terrible, but the terrifying thought of jail—especially knowing the mess it'd be for your already stretched-thin mom—made you keep running.

Still shaken, you made your way to Pietro's apartment, knowing you had to be the one to tell his mother. Her reaction was a storm of emotions—anger, fear, desperation. She demanded you stay with Wanda while she went to confront the nightmare at the police station.

“I think I'll just head home,” you murmured to Wanda, not wanting to impose any further.

She glanced at you, her eyes searching. “Have you had dinner?”

You hesitated, then lied. “Yeah, I ate earlier.” The truth was your mom had been away for work for three days, and the fridge was almost bare.

The small home you came to know felt overwhelmingly spacious as you sat alone, burdened by the guilt of having left your best friend behind. But mere minutes after sinking into your worn-out couch, a knock came at your door. Opening it, you found Wanda, a bowl of steaming paprikash in her hands and a soft smile on her lips.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said.

Your face lit up in relief at the sight of the food, more grateful than you could express. Just as you were about to thank her, your stomach betrayed you with an embarrassingly loud growl. Wanda let out a genuine laugh, and for a brief moment, you felt like a burden had been lifted.

“Guess I was right,” she teased, handing you the bowl.

As you eagerly began eating, Wanda settled opposite you, her expression growing serious again. “What were you two even thinking tonight?” she asked softly.

Swallowing, you sighed, “I tried to stop him, Wanda. But I couldn't talk him out of it.”

Wanda looked down, her fingers playing with a loose thread on the couch. “I don't blame you,” she finally said, her voice gentle, “I never do. In fact, I sometimes wonder how much worse he might've been without you around.”

A moment of silence hung between the two of you before Wanda whispered, more to herself than to you, “I'm so worried about next year.”

Curiously, you looked up from your food, "What do you mean?"

“Pietro's turning eighteen. He was supposed to get a baseball scholarship, but with this run in with the police, that’s probably hanging in the balance now…” she trailed off.

Your heart sank. You had known Pietro had big dreams tied to that scholarship, dreams that now seemed to be teetering on the brink. "And what about you, Wanda? What's your plan?"

Wanda took a deep breath, and her face lit up slightly, “I got accepted into Columbia. It's amazing, really. But…” She sighed, looking down, “Even with the scholarship they offered, I can't afford it. Plus, with everything going on, I think I need to be here, help Mom out, you know?”

“That's tough,” you whispered, feeling a pang of sadness for the bright future she might be putting on hold.

She nodded, “I'm thinking of starting work and maybe attending community college for a bit. It's not Columbia, but it's something.”

“That's... that's just unfair,” you whispered, setting down your bowl, your appetite momentarily forgotten. “If there's anyone who deserves to be at Columbia, Wanda, it's you.”

Wanda looked up, her eyes filled with something you didn’t recognize.

“I wish things were different,” you continued. “I've always thought of you as one of the most intelligent people I know. And not just smart, but kind... genuinely kind.”

She took in your words, the distance between you two closing slightly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving yours.

Then, with a flash of resolve, she inched closer. “There's something I want to do,” she began, her voice a whisper. “Something I've wanted for a long time, but it never seemed right. I don't think there'll be another perfect moment, another chance. Not after tonight.”

Before you could process her words, she was leaning in, the space between you disappearing. Your eyelids dropped, and for a heartbeat, everything else melted away as her lips met yours.

For the longest time, nothing made sense to you. That was, until Wanda Maximoff kissed you.

Now

Your best friend's walk down the aisle feels like the longest part of the ceremony–at least to you. The sight is so magical that time seems to stand still. When you snap back to reality, the priest is asking if there's anyone in the crowd who wishes to object to the marriage.

Nobody breaks the silence which lasts a mere two seconds. It's a rarity these days for anyone to object. They only happen now in movies. Modern weddings are more intimate, almost closed-door affairs. The guest list is meticulously curated, ensuring anyone with a complex history with the bride or groom remains absent.

You watch the ceremony unfold, every word, every shared glance, making you feel more trapped by the promise you made earlier. You'd promised to chase that very kind of happiness, the kind that was unfolding right in front of you. Yet as you watch, there's this nagging feeling at the back of your mind, asking if you ever really will.

What they have feels like a world apart from where you're seated.

You try to be genuinely happy for your best friend, and on many levels, you are. But you–you’re the last person to believe you deserve even a fraction of such a miracle.

Then

The kiss, as Wanda had promised, never happened again.

At least not for the duration they remained neighbors. Soon after, she and Pietro moved to another town for their studies. As for you, you and your mother also moved shortly after their departure, to a nicer neighborhood that’s closer to Manhattan where you also transferred schools.

For five years, you didn't see either of them. No calls. Nothing on social media. But that didn't stop them from occasionally drifting into your thoughts. Especially that memory of your first kiss.

That was until one night, while dining alone in a midscale Soho restaurant, you looked up to find Wanda as your server.

She wore a simple black uniform that most servers donned, but she carried it with an elegance that made her stand out. For a moment, you thought she didn't recognize you, as she professionally presented the menu and described the evening's specials without missing a beat. But then, as she was turning to leave your table, she paused and looked directly into your eyes.

“It's been a long time,” she said, her voice becoming more familiar as she shed her professional facade.

You nodded, struggling to find the right words. “Yeah, it really has. I didn't expect to see you here.”

She smiled, a little sadly. “Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. I... well, I needed a job while I finish my degree.”

You both chatted briefly, catching up on lost time, but Wanda was called away to attend to other patrons. As she bustled about, you found it difficult to focus on your meal, your gaze repeatedly drawn to her fluid movements around the room. Every so often, your eyes would meet, and she'd offer a fleeting smile, a touch of color rising to her cheeks.

After a while, you signaled for the check. Wanda was quick to bring it over, her fingers brushing against yours as she handed it to you.

“How's Pietro?” you asked tentatively.

Wanda hesitated, her eyes betraying her composure. “He was released from prison about a month ago,” she began, taking a deep breath. “It was tough, but he's doing better now. Trying to change, you know? And he... he misses you.”

Baseball never happened for him. College too. You wished you hadn’t lost your connection together. Perhaps you could have made a difference.

“I'm sorry,” you murmured. “Life just... took over.”

Wanda nodded with understanding, but remained silent.

As you prepared to leave, Wanda slipped a note along with your bill. It read, “It was good to see you again. Maybe we shouldn't wait another five years?”

Beneath these words, Wanda had also written down her phone number.

You waited a total of three days to call Wanda.

Wanda was... an open-ended chapter in your life. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been with other women since she stole your first kiss, but she remained a persistent afterthought in every relationship of yours that ended.

It didn't help that you'd left a bookmark in her chapter, aware that revisiting it had the potential to alter the trajectory of everything.

The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, it's me,” you hesitated for a moment, wondering if she would recognize your voice after all these years, “From the restaurant, the other night?”

There was a brief pause, then her tone softened, “I hoped you'd call.”

You were grinning so hard that it didn’t occur to you that you hadn’t responded to her in a while when she gently teased, “Took you long enough.”

“Three days isn’t that long,” you defended with a slight chuckle.

“Well, in the grand scheme of things, no. But in the context of us? It felt like an eternity,” she admitted.

And it truly felt that way. Finding Wanda over the past several years hadn't been impossible or even especially hard. Yet, both of you had consciously let things drift. You had navigated through college, and Wanda, well, she'd been engaged in whatever endeavors she had pursued.

But that night, it felt right to call her. And you hadn’t realized you were waiting to find her again.

You and Wanda scheduled to meet some time during the week and the conversation should’ve ended there. But neither of you wanted to hang up, and Wanda quickly asked about your college experience and the new neighborhood you'd settled into after their departure. By the time you both ended the call, nearly two hours had passed, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

It was evident; the bookmark you'd placed hadn't lost its page and it was easy to ease once more into its pages.

Now

The sun has set when the newly-wedded couple finally arrives at the reception.

You're seated at a table filled with strangers, but your best friend made sure to place you next to a woman she's been raving about—one she's suggested more than once you should date.

Her name is Natasha and she’s gorgeous beyond words. She's so striking that you find yourself wondering if she's even your type. Typically, you've steered clear of people who seem universally more attractive than you, a defense mechanism to sidestep lingering insecurities from over the years.

But as she leans into your personal space, you can’t help but respond to every question and laugh at every joke she throws your way.

Maybe it’s safe to let yourself enjoy this, even just for tonight.

Then

It was scarcely two weeks since that encounter with Wanda at the restaurant, and there you were, in her bed.

It was cramped and the air conditioning kept failing many times during the day.

But you didn’t care.

You had known this woman for almost your entire life, and you'd waited just as long to be in her bed like this: with your arm growing numb under her weight, her head resting on your chest, and your nose buried in her hair.

She stirred slightly, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest. “Did you ever think...?” she began, voice hesitant.

“Think what?” you prompted, adjusting slightly so you could see her face.

“That we'd end up here, like this?” she whispered, her eyes searching yours.

You smiled, thinking back. “I don't know if I let myself think about it. But I hoped.”

She chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. “I had a feeling you'd say that.”

The sheets beneath you were thin and had seen better days, but it didn't matter. The world outside, with its faint hum of city life, seemed so far away. Yet, the world outside seemed irrelevant. All that mattered was the rhythm of her breathing syncing with yours and the warmth of her body next to you.

Every so often, she'd shift, mumbling half-formed sentences that would make you chuckle.

“Is the penguin wearing a bowtie?” she murmured in her half-asleep state.

You laughed softly. “What penguin?”

“The one in my dream,” she mumbled, snuggling closer to you. “He's quite the gentleman.”

“Sounds like a classy penguin,” you teased.

She smiled faintly, her eyes still closed. “He reminds me of you, in a way.”

“Oh? So, I'm a penguin now?” you quipped, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“In the best way,” she whispered, pulling you closer. “My dapper penguin.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Only you would dream of something like that.”

“And only you,” she murmured, lips against your chest, “Would be there in that dream with me.”

While Wanda seamlessly reintegrated into your life, with Pietro, however, things weren't as straightforward. His past, speckled with run-ins with the law and a battle against addiction, made you and Wanda wary of him, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You could tell he was on the mend though, especially when six months into your relationship with Wanda, Pietro was able to hold a job for that same duration. Yet, his living situation with Wanda was far from ideal. Their apartment was snug, to say the least. His room was barely big enough to fit his bed.

You wished you could help, but with college expenses looming over you, your hands were tied. The thought of asking Wanda to move in with you played on your mind constantly. It seemed like the ideal solution: she would have a more stable environment, and Pietro could fully occupy the apartment, giving him some semblance of independence.

“What do you think about moving in with me? I know it's soon, but…” you asked her one night in the quiet confines of your dorm room.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to live here with you,” Wanda said, a bit amused at your suggestion.

“I didn’t mean here,” you replied. “I meant finding an apartment for the two of us.”

“That’s just adding more expenses, Y/N. I can’t let you do that when you can stay here without any costs,” Wanda countered.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “It's not about the money, Wands. It's about... us. Having a place of our own. And it would also give Pietro the whole apartment.”

Wanda's eyes met yours, searching for a hidden meaning. “Are you saying that because of Pietro? You think he's a burden?”

You quickly shook your head. “No, no, it's not that. I just... I see how much you worry about him.”

Your fingers found hers, lacing together as you both sat on the edge of your bed. “I get it,” you began, exhaling softly, “But I thought about Pietro too. He’d have the apartment all to himself. More space, more independence.”

Wanda's eyebrows knit together in concern. “And what if he…” she hesitated, searching for the right words, “Relapses or needs me?”

You tightened your grip around her hand. “We wouldn't be too far, Wanda. And maybe giving him that space and trust will help him more than you think.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I know you're thinking of what's best for all of us, but Pietro's situation has always been so... fragile.”

Wanda looked at you, her eyes filled with emotion. “I'll think about it,” she whispered.

“Take your time,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Whatever you decide, I'm with you every step of the way.”

“Promise me,” Wanda said, her eyes hardening, like she’s on the verge of tears or something worse. “Promise you’ll be with me always.”

You leaned in, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Always.”

Now

“It’s not everyday you find the person you’ll be spending the rest of your life with.”

Short and sweet, but that's your whole speech, cliches and all.

“I never thought I'd see the day,” you start, nodding towards the newlyweds with a smirk. “But hey, miracles happen.” You raise your champagne glass. “To two people who finally figured it out. Cheers.”

Your best friend laughs, rolling her eyes affectionately at you. “Trust you to keep things real,” she murmurs, clinking her glass with yours.

And that’s when you see her, amongst the cheering crowds.

In the middle of all the people, she stands out. Always has. It doesn't matter where or when, you can always spot her. Your heart skips a beat, just like it always does. It's like everyone else fades a bit, and she's the only one in focus.

Wanda Maximoff.

Pristine in a scarlet trumpet gown, her hair pulled into a tight, strict bun. A few stray tendrils of hair have escaped the bun, framing her face in a way that gives her an almost ethereal quality.

As you take a moment to really look at her, you notice the fine details. The way the light catches the small diamond earrings she wears, making them shimmer just so. The delicate curve of her collarbone, revealed by the gown's off-the-shoulder design. And her eyes—always her captivating eyes–that hold an entire galaxy, scanning the room until they land on you.

The shock in her eyes mirrors yours, and for a moment, everything else blurs. Your legs wobble, threatening to give way beneath you. The room's atmosphere grows thick, or perhaps you're just struggling to catch your breath.

Beside you, the bride and your best friend, Maria, notices your sudden change in demeanor and follows your gaze to its source.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

You manage a shaky head shake in response, pushing through the crowd to escape the room. But you can hear Maria, not too far behind, calling after you.

Then

“So, Maria,” Wanda began once your friend had left and it was just the two of you in the cafe. You had been so keen for the two of them to meet. But with Maria spending a whole semester in Germany as an exchange student, their only prior meeting had been a brief video call that interrupted one of your dates with Wanda.

“How did you two get so close?”

“Did I never tell you about that?”

Wanda shook her head, taking a sip from her now lukewarm cappuccino.

“Freshman year. We were looking for this book and it only had one copy in the school library, and believe it or not, we reached for it at the same time,” you recounted with a wistful smile.

Wanda's face shifted ever so slightly, a change you didn't quite catch.

“We both really needed it badly, so we promised to take turns using it, and we ended up studying together for weeks.”

“That sounds like something out of a movie,” Wanda mused, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.

“It kind of felt like that,” you admitted, laughing softly. “From bickering about who would get the book on Mondays to sharing our notes and coffee breaks. Before we knew it, we were inseparable.”

Wanda hummed, her eyes flitting restlessly around you.

“What is it?”

Wanda shrugged. “Nothing.”

You frowned slightly, knowing her well enough to see past her facade. “Wands, come on,” you coaxed. “Talk to me.”

She looked away for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “It's just... it's hard sometimes, hearing about these memories you shared with someone else, when I wish I had been there with you.”

“Wanda,” you began gently, “There are moments in your past that I wasn't a part of. But what matters is now. Right here, with you.”

She sighed, her posture deflating a little. “I know. It's silly, isn't it? To be jealous of a close friend of yours.”

“If it makes you feel this way, then it's valid, no matter how silly you think it might be,” you assured her.

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. “Growing up, our worlds were confined to that same apartment building. The people, the routines, everything was predictable. And now... being out in the world, seeing you connect with others, it's just... intimidating. And, honestly, a little scary.”

You paused, smirking a bit. “You know,” you began, but Wanda cut in, “What?”

“It's just...Do you even know how happy you make me?” you said, a bit sheepishly.

She looked like she was about to say something, but you quickly added, “Seriously, Wands.”

Wanda blinked, clearly taken aback. “You have this strange way of turning things around,” she said with a soft chuckle, her face turning a shade pinker.

“Because I love you.”

Neither of you had said it up until now. And it’s quickly evident that it was the right thing to say, at the right moment.

She took a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with her cup. “You always jump in headfirst, don't you?” Then, looking up into your eyes, she added softly, “I love you too.”

You grinned, feeling a weight lifted. “Took you long enough.”

Now

The grand ballroom doors open with a soft whoosh, the muted melodies of a string quartet drifting into the cool night. You step out quickly, breathing in deep gulps of fresh air, your heart pounding against your ribcage. Memories of Wanda Maximoff, which you've tried hard to keep buried, surge to the forefront of your mind.

Maria, noticing your abrupt exit, quickly follows you out. “Hey,” she calls out softly, her heels clicking on the stone path as she reaches you. “Are you okay?”

“Why is she here?” you exclaim, the pitch of your voice inching towards a sharp octave.

Maria gently grabs your arm, offering solace. “I had no idea she'd be here. I promise. She must be someone’s plus one.”

You swallow hard, trying to steady your suddenly spinning surroundings.

“Y/N?”

“I'm okay, Maria,” you say, forcing a weak smile. “Sorry about this. It's your wedding, and you shouldn't be out here with me. Go back, enjoy your day.”

She looks conflicted, torn between staying by your side and going back to her new spouse and guests.

After a moment, Maria steps forward, enveloping you in a tight hug. “Promise me you'll be okay?”

You nod, hugging her back. “That’s too many promises in one day. But yeah, I’ll be okay.”

It’s just Wanda, you tell yourself.

Just the girl who could always bring out that special smile in you—the same one Maria had when she said, “I do.”

Then

The call came unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

You and Wanda had been dozing in her room for a few hours, following a particularly exhausting fight that concluded with even more exhausting—and mind-blowing—make-up sex.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” You instantly recognized Pietro’s voice. “Hey, listen, can you pick me up? I'm at a bar,” Pietro said, his voice tinged with guilt and slight slurring. “I... I swear I didn't do anything. I got promoted to store manager and I treated a few colleagues to celebrate. I'm a bit tipsy so I... I'm sorry to bother you.”

There was a pause, and you ran a hand through your hair, exchanging a glance with Wanda who now sat up with a worried look.

“Which bar?” you asked, trying to keep yourself calm.

“Mike’s Tavern,” he mumbled, sounding embarrassed.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your keys from the nightstand. “Alright, I'm on my way. Stay put.”

Wanda frowned, her gaze conflicted. “I want to come with you,” she said, her brows furrowing together in concern and sleepiness.

“You should stay,” you said, sliding into your jeans. “It's a bit of a drive to New Jersey. You've had a long day, and you need to rest. I'll handle this.”

She bit her lip, torn, but finally nodded. “Please be safe. Call me if anything happens, okay?”

“I will,” you said, leaning down to give her a brief kiss on the forehead before making your way out.

You didn't call Wanda on your way back from New Jersey, but not because nothing occurred.

Rather, something did happen, and you weren't conscious enough to make the call.

You and Pietro made it to the hospital.

Wanda was an emotional wreck, grappling with the challenge of dividing her attention between her brother in ICU and you being wheeled into a separate ward.

An hour later, she didn't need to decide any longer.

Pietro Maximoff's time of death was called just as you started regaining consciousness.

The days following Pietro's death were a blur. You'd wake up, immediately feeling the weight of the world pressing down, your every moment drenched in guilt in the form of alcohol and, sometimes, your own vomit.

Though you weren't close to Pietro anymore, he was slowly turning his life around. And while a drunk truck driver caused the accident, your own haste to get back to Wanda made you reckless.

That choice haunted you daily.

That choice made you believe that Wanda hated you in secret.

You began avoiding Wanda, her presence a haunting reminder of the brother she lost and, in a twisted way, the brother you felt responsible for losing. The relationship you cultivated turned into something that only existed as a label. Otherwise, it didn’t exist at all. It faded, just like the gash on your face that you acquired from the accident.

Nights blurred into days, and sometimes, it was hard to tell which was which. Friends would find you in bars or on the rooftops, looking worse for wear, lost in your thoughts. Yes, Wanda grieved, but she was also lost without you by her side. She yearned for your comfort, your grounding presence; instead, all she got was your voicemail.

The breaking point came on an evening when she didn’t hear from you for two weeks. On a hunch, she decided to visit your dorm room. The last thing she expected was to find Maria there. While the situation was innocent enough, to Wanda's overwhelmed and grieving heart, it felt like a betrayal. Maria, sensing the rising tension, made a hasty exit, leaving the two of you alone.

Wanda's eyes glittered with rage and sadness. “Is this it?” she demanded. “Is this how we handle grief? You shut me out and bring her in?”

You looked away, the walls you had put up to protect yourself now seeming like a prison. “It's not about Maria,” you murmured, your voice empty, almost lifeless.

Wanda's red-rimmed eyes searched yours, looking for a glimmer of the person she loved. “Then what is it? Why do you keep pushing me away?”

“Why don't you blame me?” you suddenly screamed, tears blurring your vision. “You should hate me for your brother dying!”

For a few moments, there was a deafening silence, interrupted only by your quiet sobs.

Wanda's hands cupped your face, forcing you to meet her eyes. “I've never blamed you. Not once.”

You remained quiet, refusing to let Wanda lift your chin from your chest.

Wanda continued, “Life is a series of 'what ifs' and 'maybes'. You can't control everything. And neither can I. We both lost him, Y/N. I don’t need more loss by losing you too.”

“Maybe you already have,” you whispered, finally looking into her eyes.

Wanda's voice cracked, “You can't be serious. What are you saying?”

You felt drained, worn out. “I don't know how to be us anymore, Wanda.”

She looked devastated. “So you're just walking away? Because we're hurting?”

You just wanted to be able to breathe again. You just wanted all of the pain to end, even if it meant letting her go.

Wanda's face crumpled, her voice rising. “So, that's it? You're just giving up?”

You could barely muster the strength to speak. "I just think... maybe it's easier this way."

“Easier for whom?” Wanda yelled, unable to hold everything back any longer. “I don't need easy, Y/N. I need you. But if you're so set on this, then be honest with me.”

You took a deep breath, your throat tight. “I think we need space, Wanda. A break.”

For a moment, it looked like Wanda might collapse. She took a step back, her gaze cold and hard. “You think a break will fix this? Fine. But don't expect me to be here waiting when you come around.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and left.

The last image of Wanda Maximoff etched into your mind as you closed her chapter.

Now

You half-expect her to seek you out after you left the reception. So, when the familiar scent of Wanda’s perfume wafts over, you keep your back turned, taking a long drag from your cigarette rather than acknowledging her arrival.

“Can I bum one?” she asks, her voice softer than the last time you heard it.

You hand her a cigarette without a word, watching her closely as she lights it. Her fingers, slender and pale, bring the cigarette to her lips, and she takes a long drag, exhaling with a sigh.

She looks so different, yet so achingly familiar.

Her hair is red—a detail you missed earlier. But now, standing this close to her, you can pick out everything that’s changed about her.

And you hate how good you are at doing just that.

For a few minutes, both of you stand in silence, letting the smoke swirl around in patterns before it gets carried away by the wind.

Wanda breaks the silence. “It's been a while.”

“Did you know it was Maria’s wedding?” you ask, finally gathering the courage to look at her.

She hesitates, exhaling a plume of smoke before admitting, “Yes, I did. But explaining to Steve our... complicated history and why I'd refuse to be his plus one seemed harder than just going with it.”

“Steve?”

She looks down, taking a moment before murmuring, “Steve’s my fiancé.”

Your eyes instinctively flit to her left hand, landing on the glimmering diamond ring. It's large and hard to miss, and you almost want to laugh that you hadn’t noticed before.

There’s a long pause between you both before you find your voice. “Congratulations, Wanda.” And to your own surprise, you genuinely mean it.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, an action you still find so endearing after all these years. But you’re not supposed to find anything about her endearing anymore. They’re not supposed to make your heart race. They’re not supposed to make you feel light-headed with desire.

It hits you painfully just how possible it is to stand mere inches from someone, yet feel oceans apart.

Wanda takes a deep breath, releasing it shakily.

“You know,” Wanda says, her voice soft, “I never really got to apologize for how things ended between us.” She shakes her head slowly, tears forming in her eyes. “I was angry, hurt... lost. And when you tried to come back, I was already seeing someone else. By that time–”

“–so much has happened and I’ve hurt you too much,” you finish for her, a pained smile on your lips. “I’m sorry too.”

Wanda's breath hitches, and for a moment, she's transported back to your dorm room. She's spent a long time wondering what might have happened if she had stayed. But that choice belongs to a different timeline, a version of her that might have been braver than she feels now.

You pause, glancing at your hands before meeting her eyes. “Are you happy, Wanda?” A part of you hopes she's found happiness, yet another selfish part wishes she hasn't—because if she hasn't, maybe there's still a space for you in her life.

Wanda meets your gaze, her eyes shining with a clarity you hadn't seen in years. “I am happy,” she confirms softly.

The unexpected rush of emotion tightens your throat, and your eyes mist over. But you fight it, forcing a big smile that wrinkles the corners of your eyes.

“That's great, Wanda,” you say. Your heart aches a bit, thinking how happiness can feel like a double-edged sword.

Reading your expression, she asks, “What about you? Are you happy?”

You promised Maria you won’t stop looking for the kind of happiness that brings people together.

So, now you hang onto the hope of that promise.

“Getting there,” you answer, the corners of your mouth lifting ever so slightly, “I will be.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #oneshots #steve rogers #wanda maximoff au #maria hill #bittersweet ending

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seraphtrevs · 1 year

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i know that this is extremely random, but what do you think the brba/bcs character's love languages would be? imo lalo's love language would be acts of service maybe? idk. i would love to hear your thoughts! you always have such great insights

I actually remember doing this during the Long Hiatus!

Kim's is definitely acts of service. She is angry at Jimmy for switching Chuck's documents...but she's also clearly moved by his gesture. She would have broken up with him otherwise, but it just brings them closer. When they are on a break following the fallout from the commercial, Jimmy calls every day to sing to her answering machine. She's not ready to talk to him yet, but it's important to her that he makes a tangible effort at apologizing and demonstrates his willingness to be patient in a way that makes her laugh. He paints her toenails. He gets the Kettlemans backs for her. He is always doing stuff to show her how much he cares

Jimmy's is definitely words of affirmation. He desperately wants his brother to tell him he's proud of him. He wants people to express amazement at his cleverness. Unfortunately, this is something Kim has a hard time with. She will acts-of-service him all day long, but putting things into words is very difficult for her. This is part of the reason why Jimmy is so less secure in their relationship than Kim is - he's always asking for her to reassure him ("this guy? really?") but she struggles with giving that to him. That's why the office becomes such a huge deal to Jimmy because to him, sharing the office is like her saying "I'm proud to be seen with Jimmy McGill, whom I love"

Chuck values quality time. His whole EHS is an elaborate way to get Jimmy to spend time with him. After the death of his parents and his divorce (and probably the death of Hamlin Sr too), he feels very abandoned. However, he can't ask Jimmy to spend time with him because that would be too vulnerable and humiliating. So his brain made up a way for him to get what he needs from Jimmy without having to say that he loves him - it's just because of the dang EHS, not that he really wants Jimmy there every day

Howard's is acts of service. You can tell because he's constantly trying to do things for other people - he agrees to take the blame for shutting Jimmy out of HHM. He offers Jimmy a job to make up for it later. He pays off Kim's debt. He makes Cheryl a peace latte. It's so important to him for people to accept these acts because he's showing his love and care, but he sadly gets rejected a lot because he misreads which acts of service would be welcome and which are not helpful. No one does acts of service for him. Poor Howie. :(

Nacho wants gifts. In the end, he rejected the ill-gotten gains from the cartel...but I think he never stopped being a material girl at heart. He loves jewelry and nice clothes and expensive cars. Tragically he has to go out and take it for himself, but I think he would react really well to being showered with gifts. Maybe if Lalo put a ring on it, things would have turned out differently.

Lalo values acts of service. Nacho wins him over when he parkours to rescue the drugs from the trap house - the drugs themselves weren't worth a lot, but Nacho's willingness to put himself in danger to impress Lalo works really well on him. Nacho burning down Gus's restaurant really sealed the deal.

Mike definitely needs quality time. Yes, he's working to get money to support Kaylee...but actually, he's getting the money to support Kaylee to make sure that Stacey will still want him around. He doesn't feel worthy of spending quality time with either of them unless he's being a provider, which is very sad because Stacey and Kaylee enjoy time with him no matter what, but he can't see that

Gus also prizes quality time. He visits David for the pleasure of listening to him talk, enjoying basking in the presence of someone who can take the pressure off of him and let him be swept away by the dulcet sounds of neurodivergent infodumping.

#i will do brba later!#jimmy mcgill #kim wexler #chuck mcgill #howard hamlin #nacho varga #lalo salamanca #mike ehrmantraut #gustavo fring #better call saul #asks

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rugtopper · 6 months

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HAUNTED BARBERSHOP

By rugtopper

The son becoming the father....it happens quite a lot.

Lawrence Ryan McKay, Jr. had dreaded this day for twelve years. He did not want to deal with anything that had to do with his father, especially his father’s estate. Larry, as his friends called him, had not seen or spoken to his father since the day he and his mother drove out of town after the divorce was final. In truth, Larry really didn’t know his father aside from what his mother had told him.

Walking around the Town Square waiting for the afternoon funeral gave Larry a lot of time to think. He really wasn’t concentrating on anything in particular when something caught his attention on the other side of the courthouse. Was that old Mr. Cecil standing in front of his barbershop smoking a pipe? Larry thought to himself. Old Mr. Cecil. Mr. Cecil Hobson. He was old even when Larry was a kid. But, wasn’t Mr. Cecil dead? Maybe this is his son. Who knows? Suddenly, Mr. Cecil looked up and waved at Larry. Next to dealing with his father’s death, seeing Mr. Cecil was not something Larry wanted to do.

“Why, Young Lawrence, it is good to see you. How are you?” Mr. Cecil asked in his cheerful voice.

Larry reluctantly walked over to the barbershop. “Doing as well as can be expected, thank you for asking. Aren’t you Mr. Cecil’s son?”

“Uh . . . yes. I started working with Dad right after you and your mother left town. Why don’t you come in for a bit? You look like you could do with a trim. No charge.”

“No thanks. I don’t qualify as one of your clients. You see I do have a full head of hair.” Larry was now standing on the sidewalk under the sign that read:

MR. CECIL’S BARBERSHOP

And hair replacement salon

“That’s all right, Lawrence. I do give regular haircuts. Come on, it will only take a few minutes.”

“Oh, all right. I do need a trim. Besides, it is still a couple of hours until the funeral begins.” Larry slowly walked down the steps to the below-street-level entrance.

The bell on the door jingled lightly as Larry walked through the door. The room was pristine, as if time had stood still. The black and white tiled floor looked just as Larry had remembered it. The two giant red leather chairs didn’t seem as big now to a grown-up Larry as they had when he was much younger. Still, they were over-powering and impressive. There was even a faint odor of aftershave in the air, which Larry really liked. However, the row of old leathery wig stands still lined the shelf behind both chairs. This distressed Larry when he was a kid. His mother always made an issue of how embarrassing it was to have a husband who wore a toupee. As Larry walked further into the room, he noticed the rogue gallery of Hollywood publicity photos still occupying the entire wall across from the chairs. For a moment he just stood there and stared, as he used to do, at the dapper men who wore toupees: Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Humphrey Bogart, Edward G. Robinson, David Niven, Leslie Howard, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Bobby Darin, Charles Boyer, Richardo Montalban, Jimmy Stewart, Lorne Greene . .

“Why don’t you have a seat, Lawrence?” Mr. Cecil suggested.

Larry broke out of his semi-trance long enough to back into the huge red-leather chair.

“Now, Lawrence. . ."

“Uh . . .I prefer ‘Larry’ if you don’t mind.” He said very haughtily.

“Oh, okay, sure, Larry. Whatever you say. Now, how about that trim.”

“Well, I might need a trim, but your ‘services’ are not for me. I am fortunate to have a full head of hair. It looks like you inherited your dad’s genes for hair loss and bad toupees.”

“Ah, I see. Well, let’s get started.” Mr. Cecil said this as he quickly threw a cape around Larry, grabbed the water bottle on the counter, and began misting Larry‘s hair.

“Hey, that is interesting. Is that scent ‘cotton candy’?” Larry asked.

“Yeah, the kids really love it. It makes the haircut easier. Just relax and enjoy it.” Mr. Cecil just kept lightly misting Larry’s hair until drops of the liquid began falling on the cape.

Larry just sat there enjoying the fragrance. He was very relaxed, not sleepy, just relaxed. As he continued to breathe in and out, he noticed a wonderful, tingling sensation all over his body. He looked at Mr. Cecil in the mirror. Why did he feel so relaxed and Mr. Cecil look so happy? As Larry kept looking at Mr. Cecil, he noticed that the mist wasn’t even going on his head anymore. Mr. Cecil just kept spraying it in the air. Without even realizing what was happening, the tingling sensation slowly turned into a numbing sensation.

Methodically and sadistically, Mr. Cecil put down the mister and slowly leaned into Larry‘s ear and said, “Now, Larry, or should I say ‘Lawrence,’ let’s get one thing quite clear. You will be receiving all of my services today. And, furthermore, you will enjoy them for the rest of your life.”

Larry’s eyes got as wide as saucers. That was the only thing that moved. Larry was totally immobilized. He could not even clear his throat to speak. Mr. Cecil began to comb Larry’s unruly mane of hair.

“Lawrence, your father was the kindest and dearest of men, and one of my best customers. He was so proud when you were born. It completely devastated him as a young father when he started losing his hair. You were about three at the time. That horrible woman, your mother, gave your father hell everyday of his life. It was a vicious cycle with her. Her constant barbs about his toupee only made him feel like less of a man, which made him unable to perform like a man.”

Larry’s eyes widened at this.

“Yes, Lawrence, that is why you were an only child. Well, him not being to perform only caused him more stress, which caused him to lose more hair. That just brought on more grief from your mother. To add insult to injury, your mother had to start having an affair with her boss at the bank. That nearly killed your father.”

During this short expose, Mr. Cecil had been trimming Larry’s shaggy mop into a respectable, boarding school haircut. “I think we’re ready to start the next phase of your makeover.” Mr. Cecil pulled out the electric clippers from the cabinet, turned it on, and plowed down the center of Larry’s pride and joy. Not one muscle flinched on Larry’s face or body, but his eyes knew the rest of the story.

“Your father loved you so much. Your mother poisoned you to him even before they divorced and the two of you moved away. Your father and I would sit here for hours trying to figure out how to get you away from that woman. Your father and I became very close. He was my best friend. He was more than a friend.”

With that said, Mr.Cecil turned Larry toward the mirror so he could look at the five-o’clock-shadow on the top of his head. “Oh, I am not going to leave it like this. Don’t you worry. You see your dad wanted you to be just like him. I intend on seeing that that happens. This little laser wand is the ticket to the new you.” Mr. Cecil deliberately started burning off each little hair on Larry’s head. “Do you remember the few times you would come here with your dad when you were a kid? Your mother hated it when you came here with him. It was perfectly fine for her to be a slut and screw around with every power-mad man in town, but your dad couldn’t have . . . Well, I guess she didn’t want anyone else to get any from your dad since she wasn’t. Stupid bitch. This is looking really good, if I do so myself. You’ll be ready for your first toupee in just a few minutes, Lawrence. In fact, I have your dad’s first toupee sitting right over there.”

Larry remembered that toupee. His dad was still wearing that toupee when Larry started first grade. He remembered his dad picking him up from school. He didn’t really understand why his dad’s hair looked the way it did and the other kid’s dad’s hair didn’t. His dad’s hair was dark brown, but his toupee was a lighter shade of brown. He remembered asking his mom about it. Boy did that cause all sorts of trouble. He remembered them fighting one time when he in the second grade. He walked into the living room just as his mom ripped off his dad’s toupee. He remembered how old and ashamed and embarrassed his dad looked. His mom just laughed at him and threw the toupee in his face.

“Oh, Lawrence you are going to look so handsome in your toupee just like your father did when he first wore one.” Mr. Cecil turned Larry toward the mirror. Although he was only 24, Larry saw a middle-aged man sitting quite still in the chair. For the first time he really saw just how much he looked like his father. No wonder his mother had thrown him out of the house on his 18th birthday. He looked just the same way his dad did on the day of that shocking fight. That was the first time Larry had ever seen his dad bald. His dad had tried so hard to hide it from him. Mr. Cecil took the toupee off the old leathery wig stand, applied some tape to the tape tabs, and placed the toupee on Larry’s silky-smooth scalp. For the first time since Mr. Cecil had started using the mister, Larry could feel something, but it wasn’t something he wanted to feel.

“Ah. I see you are feeling the side effects of the mist. You see you are going to be just like your dad.” Mr. Cecil slowly combed the toupee into place. It set apart from Larry’s hair in texture and color just like it had on his dad’s head. “You might as well dump that silly little girlfriend of yours. You’ll never be able to get it up for her or any other girl ever again. Oh, I see that excites you. Gee, I hope you wear boxer shorts like your dad did.” With that, Mr. Cecil removed the cape, freed Larry’s engorged member, and kneeling down proceeded to suck Larry so hard he nearly was yanked from the chair. Larry had never had a blowjob so powerful. When he was all through and not leaving one drop behind, Mr. Cecil zipped Larry’s pants. Larry just sat there staring at the image of his new look. He didn’t even see Mr. Cecil take a small bottle and mist him in the face with it. In seconds, the feeling began to return to his body. Mr. Cecil helped him up and walked him to the door.

As they walked out onto the stoop Mr. Cecil said, “Now, Lawrence, I know you are a bit confused about all of this. I understand. I did all of this because of your father. I know it is what he wanted. Don’t worry. You look great in a toupee, just like your dad did. I also know that you will always wear it. You see, what you had on top will never, ever come back. I saw the look on your face when you saw how bald you were in the mirror. That is just how your dad looked the day your mom embarrassed him by ripping it off in that fight. Yes, I know all about that. You see they were fighting about me. He told her he was going to leave her for me. You probably don’t remember that. But you see Lawrence I didn’t just do all of this for him. The day your mother took you away was a very sad day for your dad. He lost more than just you did on that day. She had let you come here to the barbershop to say goodbye to your dad. You never even bothered to come into the shop. You stood outside here on the stoop. Your dad and I walked outside to see you. I turned to go back inside to let the two of have a moment alone. Do you remember what happened next, Lawrence?”

Larry did. He always remembered it. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. He was standing on the top step nearest the sidewalk looking down at his dad and Mr. Cecil. Mr. Cecil turned to walk inside. Without thinking, Larry did exactly as his mother had done and grabbed at Mr. Cecil’s toupee. There in his frightened, twelve-year-old hands was Mr. Cecil’s pewter toupee. Mr. Cecil spun around to grab his toupee, tripped on the bottom step of the stoop, fell, and hit his head. That is all Larry remembers ever happening.

As if awakened from a trance, Larry realized where he was. He turned around to look back at the barbershop. What he saw was a burned-out hovel and a pile of garbage with what looked liked a sign on top. All he could make out was “MR. CECIL’S.”

Larry started walking toward the funeral home. What just happened? Was it all a dream? The autumn wind picked up. As if by instinct, he touched the top of his hair. Then, he knew. It was no dream. It was both a nightmare and a new reality.

THE END

#cheap toupee #voluntary bald fringe #toupee for men #hair replacement for men #male transformation

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floralcrematorium · 8 months

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you got me thinking about Henry marrying Nyo England and getting mad when she kept coming back after he beheaded her because she can't bear children.

*reawakens from my Tudor queens hyperfixation*

I AM HERE

Get ready for the longest nonsensical ramble nobody asked for. Does this make sense? I don’t know, let’s find out together.

My personal headcanon is that Nyo!England, or Alice, wasn’t married off to other royalty but instead powerful nobles. In the 1600s after the fall of the Tudor dynasty specifically.

She hated it for obvious reasons.

On top of that, I have a feeling that she’s somewhere on the ace spectrum and is demiromantic. If she were ever to fall in love it would be the slowest slow burn of all. I also don’t see her having a gender preference, but I digress. She’s always been a bit of a prude regarding nudity and “risqué topics.”

In regard to the Tudor period, I think this is abouts when a lot of personal changes happen for Alice because of the English Reformation, her life at court, and subsequent arranged marriage(s).

As far as her relationship with the king, I don’t think Henry VIII would’ve pursued Alice as a romantic partner, but the thought of Alice continuously popping back up after being “executed” is an interesting thought.

I see her being a well respected lady at court, in rank nearly equivalent to Anne of Cleves’ following her divorce (Anne of Cleves was the highest ranking English woman after the Queen Consort and Henry’s daughters, who had by this time been reinherited. If I’m wrong, then at least Mary was reinherited thanks to Jane Seymour). Imagine whatever Arthur’s rank would be at court, but the feminine equivalent for the early 1500s. Alice relished being at court, it gave her a feeling of power she hadn’t felt growing up. She had more freedom in her adolescence, but this was the first time she had political sway (she was part of the Queen’s household).

She would have had a rather positive relationship with Catherine of Aragon. I think they’re actually both very similar; Well educated for women of the time, smart, enduring, and headstrong. Alice also would have been Catholic, seeing as how England largely practiced Catholicism until Henry VIII formed the Church of England and mandated the practice of Protestantism.

I think the English Reformation shatters Alice on a variety of levels; Her relationship with religion becomes difficult, she is reminded yet again that women are not safe regardless of their social rank (albeit royal and noble women had it far better than the average person — Tudor England had the highest rates of educated women among the nobility in Europe), and finds herself endangered as well.

The Wars of the Roses had been a tumultuous time politically and I haven’t figured out Alice’s role before the 1490s other than the ye ol’ horse girl to court gossiper pipeline.

This is when a lot of things click for Alice. This is when she’s no longer the perfect “English Rose,” an ideal lady of the court. I think this is when she starts to become more cynical, especially as she’s probably near reached physical adulthood (I haven’t figured out how she ages yet smh). She honestly probably would have gotten executed at least once for having a similar attitude to the progression of England’s governing and religion that Catherine of Aragon and Mary did. Clearly seen in Anne Boleyn, Katherine Howard, and other high ranking women’s case, nobody was safe from the executioner’s block.

I don’t think she would have been unkind to Henry’s future queens (my personal bias), but there may have been some resentment. I have a soft spot for young Katherine Howard, though I feel like she would’ve been Alice’s least favorite.

Following the death of Henry, Alice would’ve fared alright during the reigns of his children. I have no clue what she was doing during Edward’s reign. She would’ve been fine during Mary’s reign considering her support for her mother. I also think she would’ve been fine during Elizabeth’s reign.

Admittedly my knowledge about English history and royal history fizzles out when the Stuart dynasty comes into play (1603 w/ death of Elizabeth I), but it’s around this time when Alice is used as a political pawn in marriage.

I could see her having formed some sort of deep connection with a human who is a constant presence in her life, or maybe another nation (you can take the person (me) out of Hetalia fandom, but you can’t take the FrUK out of the person). This is ripped away from her when England tests the waters with marrying Alice off for the first time. She’d had brief arranged engagements before, but they’d never gone through.

This one did and he was terrible.

He’s some made up man and all I know is that he’s terrible enough that Alice is willing to consider killing him to get out of the marriage and inherit his land.

Alice convinced her husband to have a nice countryside vacation, she studies some plants because she likes gardening, and one thing leads to another — he’s been poisoned and Alice is being tried for witchcraft in the 1660s/70s.

She gets put through ordeal by water.

She is very, very reluctant to return to court life, seeing as how the last time she was there she was treated like property. I’m unsure if she would retain her ex-husband’s estate after her second attempted execution.

She eventually does return to court because it’s a. her only choice and b. the allures of the potential for personal power and greed (enter the colonial period and imperialism).

Alice leaves the 17th century with newfound fears of arranged marriage (marriage at all tbh) and being fully submerged in water, a desire for some sort of control, and a discomfort living in rural areas despite her upbringing having been in small villages.

If she’s ever to marry again, it wouldn’t be until the late 20th century or beyond.

I also feel like her relationship with Arthur is. Difficult. They coexist but he will always be the main personification of England. They’ve had similar experiences, with both being immortals who age so slow that they don’t seem to age, but they can’t ever fully understand each other. In my head they’re related in some vague way, but have a strained sibling sort of relationship.

Admittedly I have a lot of research to do before I can feel comfortable with using my canon-divergent Nyo!England for anything. Most of my knowledge regarding English history comes from my AP European and World History classes in high school or my personal research into the royal family (Tudor and Victorian-Windsor period specific). My knowledge more so comes in the form of factoids about various English royals and not politics or culture, so I have a lot of blind spots. I’ve done my fair share of research into Tudor court life, but even then I’m not even sure if anything I’ve said above is valid.

Anywho, that’s the end of my ramble. Alice is a WIP because I have a lot of work to do regarding her role as a nation through each century. Hopefully when I’ve done the proper research I can do something with her, but my focus is on the Margaritaville AU right now. I’ll come back to her, though!!

#also alice would’ve given herself the middle name Katherine in honor of catherine of aragon #hetalia #hws #hws england #nyo!england #nyo england #nyotalia #alice kirkland #floralcrematorium ask box #long post #hetalia headcanons

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reve-nant · 10 months

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better call saul but with marvel writers

nacho fights lalo for the meth stone and loses, but when lalo touches it, the power is too great for him and he explodes, which also cripples hector. nacho hands the meth stone over to gus in exchange for his and his father's freedom, and they walk into the sunset together :)

howard is revealed to have been controlling chuck all along using the law stone to prevent jimmy from usurping him as head partner at HHM and fulfilling his destiny of becoming the most powerful lawyer ever. this means all the nasty stuff chuck said and did to jimmy wasn't really him :)

jimmy and kim nearly defeat howard in the battle for sandpiper, but howard unlocks the full power of the law stone, erasing kim's memory and banishing jimmy to the omaha realm in a single snap of his fingers. after faking chuck's death in a house fire, he transforms chuck into dark saul -- a secretly puppeteered illusion of jimmy's alter ego, this time used for evil. this means all the nasty stuff saul did in breaking bad wasn't really him :)

years later, the death of walter white and the resulting legal conflict unlocks kim's memories. in secret, kim travels to the omaha realm and rescues jimmy, and with the old UNM camera crew, they send a message to the universe asking for help to defeat howard just before being captured by his goons.

in the climactic final courtroom scene, all of jimmy's previous allies show up ("i'd like to call just a few more witnesses, your honor..."), including nacho, bill oakley, huell, francesca, kuby, ira, sobchak, pryce, rebecca, ernesto, wendy, viola, the nail salon workers, the skateboarders, the elderly clients, his criminal clients, the mall security guards, the internship girl who shoplifted (now a full-fledged lawyer), mr. acker, suzanne ericson, ed the disappearer, jeff the cab driver, jeff's friend buddy, and even marion.

all of jimmy's allies fight all of howard's lawyer goons in a spectacular final battle. kim leads all of the women in a girl power moment and is even joined by cheryl hamlin ("consider this my petition for divorce, howie." *punch*). howard is still too strong, but chuck at last breaks free of howard's control and sacrifices himself for jimmy, admitting with his dying breath that jimmy was always the better lawyer. finally understanding the sacredness of the law, jimmy fully transforms into saul goodman, defender of the innocent, and wrests control of the law stone from howard, destroying him forever. jimmy/saul and kim rebuild HHM into the bastion of justice it was meant to be, and live happily ever after avenging clients wronged by the legal system. :)

#better call saul #bcs #marvel #mcu

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incorrectsibunaquotes · 1 year

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The Interconnected Family Tree of Anubis

I was trying to keep my family tree headcanons on straight for fic purposes, so I devised my own family tree for all the complicated pre-canon HOA connections. Almost everything on here is headcanon, so take it with a grain of salt, but if you like it, feel free to use this!

First up we have the Frobisher-Smythe & Rush families! I added some lore surrounding RFS’ family, which is as follows (TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF SELF UNALIVING)

Eleanor Frobisher-Smythe (1841-1881) was a Paragon, but could not handle the burden, nor could she deal with the constant badgering from spirits and gods in her head. After the birth of her second son, Robert, she suffered with postpartum depression. She killed herself via morphine overdose a year after his birth.

Julian Frobisher-Smythe (1841-1908) was Eleanor's Osirian. He built the Anubis Estate (though it wasn’t called that yet) based on a vision he had that essentially insisted that it would be a crossroads of destiny. He could not save his wife and Chosen One from herself, and blamed himself for her death up until the day he died of TB in 1908

Robert Frobisher-Smythe (1880-) was a brilliant (and mental) man who was superbly skilled in chemistry/alchemy, riddles, metalworking, carpentry, masonry, archaeology, and history in general. He, after several successful trips to Egypt, suffered the from the curse placed upon all who disturbed the tomb on Howard Carter’s expedition in 1922, along with taking the fall for his friends on the expedition who dared to disturb the Staff of Osiris. He was cursed to sleep by Ammut for their folly, and pronounced dead to avoid suspicion, with only those he trusted for the ceremony aware of the truth.

Edward Frobisher-Smythe (1878-1918) was Robert’s older brother. He was not nearly as brilliant (or mental), but he was strong and good-hearted. He, like many brave men, fought in WWI and died in the Second Battle of the Somme in 1918.

(Louisa also had ancestors who were Chosen Ones, and while that does technically mean she and Robert are related, it’s incredibly distant since Amneris’ descendants are spread all over the globe.)

Sarah Frobisher-Smythe (1915-2010) was the Paragon, and her life was incredibly tragic and tumultuous, marked by being her family’s secret keeper for secrets she didn’t really know. She went into hiding in the 70s/80s after discovering the Society’s existence and what their ultimate goals were, and assumed the identity Emily Grant. She is buried with that name.

Rebecca Rush (1881-1950) was a brilliant woman, one of the first WOC to be educated in England, which is where she met both Robert and Louisa. She and Robert fell in love, got married, and a year after the birth of their son, Charles, in 1913, they got a divorce and she moved both herself and her son to America to set up with family there.

Charles Rush (1913-2012) grew up in America with very little contact with his father before he was put to sleep, but he knew his role well. He married a woman, Eloise, and had two children, Robert “Bobby” Rush and Nora Rush. Bobby suffered from severe depression and anxiety, but he was a good man. He married Josie Rush, and they had a daughter, Kara-Tatiana “KT” Rush. Josie died of melanoma in 2005, and Bobby lost his battle with depression that same year*. Nora moved back to England, and resides in London as a bit of a recluse museum curator.

KT Rush (1995-) is the great-granddaughter of Robert Frobisher-Smythe. She came to school at her grandfather’s behest to do what Charles had become too old to do. She was a member of Sibuna.

*Note that KT is raised by her aunt on her mother’s side, Becca Talbott

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Now we move to Louisa’s side of the family, which you might recognize as the Denby family. Yes, I’ve decided to connect Louisa with the Denby family as a way of incorporating that family more closely with the Frobisher’s. Hang on tight cuz it’s about to get complicated.

Cartwright & Elizabeth Denby gave birth to three children: Isabel, Thomas, and Louisa. They were strong willed people who were not afraid to push their children toward greatness.

Louisa Denby became Louisa Frobisher-Smythe (1883-1922) in 1913, after Robert and Rebecca divorce. Louisa is a brilliant mind, a woman who, like her husband, could make just about anything. As kind as she was, she was also greedy and complicit (often more than complicit) in her expedition party’s exploits. She gave birth to Sarah Frobisher-Smythe in 1915, and after several successful trips to Egypt, suffered the curse placed upon all who disturbed the tomb on Howard Carter’s expedition in 1922. She died in a horrific car accident the end of that same year.

Thomas Denby was a strong, no-nonsense man; he married an equally no-nonsense woman named Victoria. He was entrusted by his brother-in-law Robert to act as his Keeper, a roll he passed down to his only son Thomas Denby Jr, who then passed it down to his oldest and biological daughter, Harriet.

Harriet Denby (1977-) is a pragmatic woman, who made her living as a teacher, while also doing her best to live up to her family’s legacy as a Keeper. At least until she’s drugged and stuck in a mental facility by her adopted younger sister Caroline, who then assumes her identity and role.

Caroline Denby (1979-2012) was a deeply troubled young woman who was adopted by her neighbors, the Denby family, after her mother hanged herself. She had delusions of grandeur and didn’t care who she had to hurt, even if that meant her beloved older sister, to achieve that greatness. She was murdered and devoured by the goddess Ammut.

Isabel Denby became Isabel Zeno when she married Gustav Zeno, a French historian. She was a frivolous woman, and she had a bubbly, playful personality that was hard to dislike. She happily raised Sarah alongside her son Rufus after her sister died.

Gustav Zeno was a French historian from Paris, who married Isabel and had a son Rufus. He worked closely with Robert and Victor Rodenmaar Sr on the Elixir of Life recipe.

Rufus Zeno (1915-2011) was a bright, rambunctious, and strong young man, divinely tasked with being the Osirian to Sarah Frobisher-Smythe. He had ambitions far beyond being a mere protector, however, and the more Elixir he took, his resentment toward his cousin/adopted sister grew. He, Sarah, and Victor Jr founded the Amun Academic Boarding School in 1960, and soon after, he and Victor founded the Society, along with several others. In 1936, he had a daughter, Evelyn, who he and the woman he’d been seeing with decided to put up for adoption. Later in life, as he still appeared young, he had another child with Maggie Sweet, named Eric. He betrayed Sarah and the Society and eventually came to ruin when his hubris got him possessed by the Forgotten Ruler, Senkhara and sent to a fiery end.

Evelyn Meridian Martin (1936-) was put up for adoption almost immediately after her birth, and was taken in by a kindly American couple. She lived a happy life, unburdened by her origins, and eventually married a kindly man named William Martin, and had a son Peter Martin, who married a Spanish woman Marie. She raised her granddaughter after Peter and Marie died in a car wreck in 1999.

Nina Martin (1995-) is potentially the last Paragon to walk the earth, since she has fulfilled her purpose of restoring the Cup of Ankh. She is the former leader of Sibuna, and now lives her life back home in America.

Eric Sweet is the headmaster of Amun Academic Boarding School and a former member of the Society, as well as the Seeker. He attended school and lived at Anubis House in his teen years, but did not know that Rufus was his father until much later in life. He moved to America for a time after he met an American woman Catherine “Cathy” Miller, and had a son. When he discovered his son, Eddie, was the Osirian, he knew that if Victor or Rufus were to discover that, he would be exploited. So he divorced Cathy and returned to England.

Eddie Miller (1994-) is a rambunctious and loyal young man who also acted as the Osirian, until he sacrificed his powers to appease Ra’s wrath. After Nina stepped down, he acted as the leader of Sibuna.

#this was a lot #but really fun!#this family tree is a wreath lmfao #sorry to neddie shippers btw but since this is by no means canon fret not #i figured there had to be a way these people were more connected but I couldn’t really fit the Rodenmaars in as anything other than #friends of the family #i do think victor and sarah were courting tho before he betrayed her #anyway ya if you have any questions lmk #and if you like this #feel free to use it for fics/personal headcanon #house of anubis #sibuna #tess writes #this does is necessarily included in the canon of two is company #but it is canon to a pocket full of rye #whenever I finish chapter one of that lol #that’s why there are some unknowns or unembellished things #bc spoilers

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