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#and here they are wishing I was never born
Text
My Missing Piece
616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?
Word Count: 10.4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.
A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)
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Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.
I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.
The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.
I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.
As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.
I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.
After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.
I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.
But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.
With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.
The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,
"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.
"Awww but Mama!" They whined.
"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.
I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.
My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.
I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.
"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.
Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?
Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.
But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.
I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.
"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.
"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.
With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.
As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.
After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.
The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.
"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.
The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.
"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,
"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.
"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.
"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.
"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."
"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,
"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,
"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.
As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.
For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.
But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."
I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.
"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."
She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."
I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.
With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.
"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."
I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."
She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."
A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."
The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.
"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.
"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.
"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.
"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.
"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.
"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.
"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.
"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.
"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.
"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.
"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.
"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.
Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.
I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."
Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.
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The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.
I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.
I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.
She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.
And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.
But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.
My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.
"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.
"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.
I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.
"What?" I ask.
"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,
"You did what!?" I screech.
"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.
"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.
"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."
She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."
With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.
As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.
And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.
With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.
When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.
"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.
"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.
"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.
"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.
"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.
As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.
Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."
She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."
I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.
"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.
The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.
Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.
Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.
And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.
In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.
User
"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.
The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.
Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.
With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.
With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.
For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.
"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.
"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.
"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.
"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.
The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.
"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.
With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.
"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.
As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.
I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.
With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.
And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.
The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.
The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.
"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.
"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."
Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.
"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.
In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.
A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.
Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.
"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.
Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.
In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.
========
In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.
With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.
As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.
"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.
Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.
"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."
==============
As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.
Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.
==============
As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.
Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.
As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.
Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.
Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.
As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.
And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.
As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."
My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.
"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.
The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.
As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.
"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.
The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.
As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.
With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.
As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.
Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.
In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.
As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.
I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.
With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.
As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.
A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.
With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.
As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.
In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.
As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.
===========
Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.
"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.
"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.
"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.
As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.
In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.
With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.
As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.
"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."
In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.
With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.
Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.
"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.
"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."
As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.
"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.
As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.
In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.
Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,
"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,
"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”
In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
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Regarding @littlegreenfag
Tldr: Adina, known by the Tumblr urls littlegreenfag and prksoda, has spent the past several years lying about many facets of their life. The list of lies includes, but is not limited to, being half manouche Romani, being Jewish, and being descended from Holocaust survivors.
I never wanted to have to do this. I’ve spent months trying my best to encourage Adina to come clean themself. My methods were not ideal. I should not have used anonymous messages. I used to be friends with them, I should've talked to them openly as their friend. I also should’ve attempted to be less aggressive at times, even though I think it is incredibly reasonable to have felt the way I felt when I was sending some of those messages. I understand and regret both of these things. Unfortunately, since Adina has deactivated @littlegreenfag, I cannot provide links or screenshots to every ask of mine that they responded to, only those I saved at the time. I will do this later, upon request. This post is already going to be enough of a monster without them.
Though the last day has been a complete nightmare, I am satisfied with one thing: Adina came clean about everything, even if not publicly. My worry was always with the though of having to reveal their personal information, as many of the things they’ve lied about would require me to, functionally, dox them. Though it's technically all public, I would much rather that no one who doesn't already have access to this information gain it.
So, why am I writing this post? For those of you who were on Adina’s blog last night, you may have seen this post. I was also able to save a capture of their blog on the Internet Archive. Here is a screenshot that I took around when the post was first published. Apologies for the formatting.
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To summarize, Adina begins to by admitting to a small lie, that they were born in Chicago, before admitting that they had been lying about their race. Though it was not present at the time of the blog's deletion, I would like to note that Adina had the phrase "jewish and half-romani" in their blog's bio for a very long time. This phrase was quietly removed after I sent the first anon message telling them that I was aware of their lies, on March 16th 2024. This can be seen on the Wayback Machine, by looking at the capture taken on March 5th, 2024, in comparison to the capture taken on March 24th, 2024.
That is what you may have seen. However, it is not the only major lie Adina has told. After suggesting Adina should turn off anons, I sent them another ask with my blog name visible, telling them that I could tell everyone about the other lies for them, if they wished to log off and be done with it. They messaged me privately, and this is the resulting conversation.
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I apologize for the block of images, but I figured it was necessary to include the entire conversation. Here, Adina openly admits to not being Jewish. Adina has spent months receiving social benefits for claiming to be Jewish, and they've even used this claim to support arguments. Truth be told, Adina has one Jewish great-grandfather. How Adina expected me to believe they would know about this without knowing his surname, I will never know. However, I should emphasize that Adina is not Jewish by the standards of any main movement of Judaism. Orthodox and Conservative look for an unbroken line of Jewish women, while Reform asks that you be raised Jewish by a Jewish parent. Adina is descended from a Jewish man who converted to Catholicism and raised his children Catholic.
Regarding the Holocaust claim, I understand hat Adina did not directly address this. I will say that I find it suspicious that they deactivated as soon as I mentioned it, but they technically never confirmed it was a lie. However, with the information that:
The ancestors they mention as being survivors or victims quite literally do not exist and
Their Jewish ancestor was born in the United States well before WWII
I believe it is quite safe to say this was also a lie. My screenshots of their claims come mostly from their Reddit account, which is now deleted.
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It is absolutely ghoulish to me to create fake relatives so that you can pretend they were tortured and killed during the Holocaust. All to receive sympathy.
Though there are many, many other lies Adina has peddled, such as being a child of divorce and having a dead biological mother, I don't think any of them matter much in the grand scheme of things when these are the other lies that have been told.
It is also worth noting that this is a pattern of behavior from Adina. As some of you who followed them may know, back in 2019, a blog was created with the intent of calling them out for lies. Frankly, this blog, @prksodalies , is what put me on to Adina's trail in the first place. Though I believe that several of the things Adina was accused of on this blog are downright cruel to accuse someone of without evidence, the fact that there were so many smaller obvious lies made me very uneasy. What specifically made me curious was the post, here, where Adina claims that they are half Lebanese. Obviously, this did not make a ton of sense with the half Roma and half Ashkenazi Jewish Adina we all knew. As it turns out, this was one of the very few shreds of truth from Adina. They're a quarter Lebanese on their father's side, and other than that and a Jewish great-grandfather, are of mostly Polish and German descent.
This being a pattern of behavior, alongside the way Adina behaved in messages with me, tells me that this will likely unfortunately not be the last time this person creates a Tumblr blog with a fabricated life story. I feel immense guilt at the thought that they may continue to swindle and hurt people, and that I will never know or be able to help again.
To everyone who was friends with this person and has been hurt by their actions, I am truly, truly sorry. This has been an absolutely miserable experience for me and I can't imagine it's much different for any of you. If you have questions, I'll be available for a least a few hours. I do not want to share any of their personal information, but I will share what I need to (privately) if some of you need or want more information.
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Labor HC (ft. Poly!Mates Bat Boys)
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Warnings: intense labor, my bsf just had her first baby and told me all the horrific things 🫠, personally i never want children, thank the cauldron for healing magic, longish? compared to my other hc, i guess labor horror? the idea of giving birth scares the ever loving shit out of me
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By the end of your pregnancy your stomach was the size of two side by side watermelons
Madja grew increasingly worried that you would not survive the labor at how big the babe inside of you had grown
you worried your child would tear itself out of your womb
indefinite bed rest for you
which you honestly didn't mind since it was getting difficult for you to move your body without getting tired
bat boys worry. you aren't illyrian. if the baby belonged to cassian or azriel, your body would not be able to allow for wings to grow. (paternity/gendering of the baby was not possible. all the results came back as inconclusive)
as it gets more cramped inside of you, every one of the baby's movements is felt by you.
Rhys neglects much of his work and favors spending every waking hour by your side.
Cassian and Azriel grow extremely considered when they hear commotion arising in the Hewn City. Az has heard that many in the Court of Nightmares wish for your demise in labor. They take each threat to your life seriously and spend their time ensuring the security and safety of you and your unborn child.
they can't protect you from the pain of labor though
Rhys and Az were asleep with you in the bed, Cassian preferring to stand guard outside your door.
You're pulled out of sleep rather abruptly, well aware of the unconscious tensing of your muscles as a stabbing pressure digs into your abdominal area. a tightening and squeeze so vicious that you try and sit up immediately but your big belly prevents you from doing so.
stomach churning fear rises in you. it was time.
you shake your mates awake as another squeezing pain that burned across your lower back and pelvis.
they've drilled for this. no really your bat boys have played out the scenario an annoying amount of times. Az leaps from the bed to alert Cassian, Rhys helping you sit up
Azriel leaves to fetch Madja since he's the fastest
the Wraiths prep everything you may need and wait in the room with you, Rhysand and Cassian until Azriel returns with the healer.
that's when things really start
you were already screaming when Madja arrived. Nuala and Cerridwen had prepped you for the labor if Madja were too late.
Azriel had your left hand, brows furrowed and wishing he can transfer the pain you were going through into his body. Even if this pain meant the birth of a child, he hated hearing your screams or the tears welling in your eyes as you push with all your might
Rhysand, who had been hold your right hand transfers it to Cassian's care as he moves to be by Madja side to watch the actual birth. His eyes keep darting from your lower half to your face.
you never knew bringing another life into the world was so painful. you yourself didn't know either of your parents. no one to warn you of what you would face in childbirth
your bat boys were there though, that was all that mattered.
time drags with each heave you give
then he was born. . .
Dagen. even with his wings tucked in tight, pushing him out damn near tore you from your v to your a. like that whole entire region was on fire
"O-Oh. . ." Madja gasped, clearly startled as she held your baby in her arms, having been about to pass him to Rhysand. Almost in fear she looks at Rhysand. "I. . .I think there is another babe coming. . ."
Two babies???
you didn't believe her. until you felt another intense wave of pain start up again. dagen nearly tore you in half. you couldn't imagine pushing out another baby that potentially had wings.
"no, please no" you sob, every part of you aching.
Cassian looks scared. "You can do this." his hand was numb but he didn 't care.
"We're here." Azriel nods and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.
Rhysand was still standing a little dumbstruck with a fresh newborn in his arms.Thankfully one of the wraith sisters nudges him, her arms ready to take the baby so he can go back to focusing on the next one.
Rian arrived quickly, smaller than dagen thanks to the lack of wings
there was five minutes of peace where Rhysand and Cerridwen showed you your boys. beautiful boys that you and your mates created
until you felt another stabbing sensation.
you screamed at rhysand, azriel and cassian. damning them to a suffering in the afterlife for putting you through this.
to you this was bullshit.
it should be impossible!! then again, so was having three destined mates
Mor had called it a miracle. you now thought of it as a curse. you never knew having three mates meant giving birth to three babies at the same time
the third baby however would prove to be the most difficult. thanks to the previous two, you were beyond exhausted and begging for someone to just rip it from you. there was no way you could push it out by yourself.
Madja made the tough call of performing a cesarean section
the wraiths took away rian and dagen as the surgery took place
they'd been in wars, seen carnage, but there your bat boys were with white faces that expressed utter horror
the last baby to be delivered was a little girl with wings. your Baila.
exhausted, you pass out soon after Madja pulls her from you.
everyone is pushed out of the room except for madja herself as she sews you back up and stops the bleeding that could possibly kill you if not treated properly.
it feels like a dream to you when you wake up.
except every part of you is still suffering from a dull pain
your bat boys introduce you to your three pretty babies
i hc that dagen is azriel's, rian is rhysand's and baila is cassian's cuz i've always thought of him as a girl dad and nothing can change that lol
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Text
Second Chance Sorcerer Chapter 2
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Summary: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader
A/N: Chapter 2 is here! So we come to the world of the living where reader is grieving Nanami's death. Reader-centric chapter, but Nanami is brought up heavily. Originally made with my OC, to read that version, check out my AO3 account, but it's in Y/n format here.
Banner by the lovely @actuallysaiyan
Search/follow along using #secondchancesorcerer
Chapter 1 | Nanami masterlist
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There’s an incessant knocking at the door and it takes all of your energy to not scream at whoever it is to go away. You felt like someone had hit you with a sledgehammer, your sleep disturbed and restless. Why was everyone so determined to give you company when all you wanted to do was be left alone?
No one understood the hollow feeling in your chest, how you woke up every night screaming, remembering Mahito’s disgusting grin of triumph as he had murdered Nanami in cold blood. How you had begged Nanami to let you take him out of Shibuya station along with Maki, the burns on his body looking so raw and painful. He had fixed you with the same look he would give you when you was hesitating to take a shot at him during hand-to-hand combat training sessions. That stern expression of disapproval, despite his own pain and exhaustion.
“Take Maki-san and leave. I’ll be fine Y/n-san. I can’t leave. Not yet.” And you had been helpless to argue against him. you never could. There was a hypnotic quality to the way Nanami instructed you, said with a finality that you could never disobey. The man had a death wish, you knew that, and you had foolishly believed securing him with a protective charm would drive away the shadow of demise that seemed to hover over him all the time. You should have knocked him unconscious and dragged his ass out with Maki. Shoko was on site. She could have healed him, and he would be here, grieving their other losses instead of…
Your heart constricted painfully, remembering how you had held onto Yuji as hard as you could, your ears bleeding from his hysterical screaming as he swore his revenge on Mahito. Nanami’s loss hung heavily in the air. Although most of the Jujutsu community was more invested in Gojo being sealed, it was Nanami’s death that affected you the most. Nanami your mentor, your dour, unwilling mission partner, your whole heart…now gone. Like he had never existed, no trace of him left. 
“Y/n-san?” The knocking continues and with a snarl, you roll off the bed, your hair a dreadful mess, not caring that you’re still in pajamas, and yank open the door only to see Ino and Yuji standing there, Yuji carrying a takeout container. Your ire washes away only to be replaced by a dull ache as you see them. “Oh. it’s you two.” You slink back to the bed and disappear under the covers.
“We haven’t seen you for two days now Y/n-san.��� Ino shuts the door as Yuji sets the takeout container on the table. “You can’t just lock yourself away. We’re a team. Team Nanami, remember?” Ino gives you a wan smile which you don’t have the energy to return. Yuji settles down on a chair and says nothing.
Your heart aches for the boy, so young, a teenager, looking so weary and serious, shouldering the weight of a much older man. “I haven’t been in a mood to see anyone. Everything that happened at Shibuya…I can’t.”
Your voice trembles, threatening to spill out all the unspent grief you’re carrying. You hadn't explicitly told anyone about your feelings for Nanami, believing it was pointless. You were his apprentice after all, a title almost similar to being his student, and it was a boundary you hadn’t been willing to cross. Nanami had helped craft your abilities after all, abilities you had been terrified of using, abilities that had plagued your entire life, that you wished you hadn’t been born with; until he had shown you how to use them for a higher purpose. 
It was an astonishing experience, developing a cursed technique, needing much hands-on instruction. Literally. Nanami would constantly adjust your hands, your stance, and your combat positions, tutting at you impatiently. You had felt like you were in a ballet academy under the care of a rigorous instructor, the type that would raise their student’s arms and chin and adjust their posture using the end of a cane.
He had started you off the same way that Gojo had done for Yuji, by channeling cursed energy into one of Principal Yaga’s creepy cursed dolls. The doll had given you a black eye that day, but you secretly blamed Nanami for that; you had been watching movies as instructed, the doll in your lap when he had come down to check on you. His deep gravelly voice cutting through the room unexpectedly had caused you to yelp, grip loosening on the doll, which had wasted no time in delivering a blow to your eye. 
It was humiliating, feeling like you had failed him on this simple task but he made you nervous. He always gave off an aura of needing perfection and his short, clipped way of giving instruction made you feel inadequate. Everything had been a blur of confusion as you leaned against the sofa, covering your eye and moaning in pain, hearing rapid shuffling footsteps, before Nanami had caught hold of the doll and shoved it into a containment box.
“Let me see.” With your good eye, you saw him leaning over you to check your face. You knew you were blushing but hoped it came off as embarrassment for being punched by the doll rather than the fact that your mentor - your unbelievably attractive mentor- was peering into your face at such close proximity. 
You had slowly removed your hand, the area around the eye swollen and tender. Nanami’s expression was strange, almost like he was trying not to laugh as he delicately laid his fingers at the edges of the starting bruise. “I did warn you not to lose concentration,” he said in an even tone, although it betrayed a wisp of amusement. “Go see Ieiri-San. I’m afraid you’ll be sporting a bruise for a while, but her reverse curse technique will take away the pain so at least you won’t feel it.” 
Your good eye had glared at him reproachfully. “I was doing fine until you startled me. I didn’t even hear you come in. We should put a bell around your neck.”
You thought you saw the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, almost like he was biting back the urge to smile. “Are you under the impression that curses wear bells around their necks, Y/n-San? Because if this is all it takes to startle you…you wouldn’t last a minute on a solo mission.”
His words had brought you back to the reality of the situation, the fuzzy feeling of being near him vanishing in an instant. Always teaching survival tactics, always telling you to run, always putting himself in the line of fire. It had driven you insane, how little self-preservation he had for himself. 
“Isn’t there anything that you would like to live for?” you had asked him one morning as you ate breakfast together before catching the train home, having finished a mission the previous night. He fixed you with a scrutinizing stare, whiskey-colored eyes narrowing as though puzzled by your question. 
“Like what?”
His response left you stumped. Did the man have no aspirations, no dreams, or wishes he wanted to be fulfilled? 
“Like what?” You had parroted back to him, an incredulous look on your face. “There are so many wonderful things about life! Don’t you have a survival bucket list?”
His lip was definitely curling now. Nanami never smiled completely, but the corners of his eyes would crinkle when something amused him, and you could see the lines deepening as he regarded your question, but his tone felt like an adult indulging a child. It was maddeningly patronizing, considering he was just three years older than you, yet he assumed himself to be too mature and aged for such whimsical questions. 
“A survival bucket list?” he practically scoffed. 
“Yes,” you said trying not to lose your patience with him, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know, a list of things you’d like to do if you ever had the time.”
“Do you have one?”
“Of course I have one! Most of us have one! Something to keep us going when all we see is death and destruction on a daily basis.”
The thought seemed to intrigue him but you couldn’t shake off the feeling like you were being snubbed. Which was why you were taken aback when he asked, “What’s on your survival bucket list?”
“Oh ah…” you tried to gather your thoughts as you spoke, not expecting that he would ask you. “Take a tour of Europe. Go on an African safari. Take scuba diving lessons. Try different pastries and sweets from all over the world.” You lists some of your top activities, then frown as Nanami in a rare moment, flashes you a grin, his teeth showing for a brief second before his face returns to its usual stoic state. 
“What?” You had asked almost impatiently. “Is my bucket list funny in some way?”
The blond man shakes his head no before speaking. “It’s not funny at all Y/n-san. I think it’s nice that you have these personal goals.” He says calmly, his voice carrying an unfamiliar lilt you had never heard before. 
Your irritation died down when you realized he hadn’t answered you yet. “Do you have one or not?” 
He looked thoughtfully at you before replying. “I used to. But it’s not as great as wanting to learn how to scuba dive or trying all the sweets in the world.” His tone changed into something wistful and nostalgic and it played with your heartstrings as you waited for him to continue. “My survival bucket list, if I can call it that, has only one goal. And that is to live long enough to retire.”
Your breath had caught and you waited for him to say more, hoping he wouldn’t shut off. Nanami rarely ever spoke more than what was necessary, but you longed to see more of this side of him, the parts of him that had nothing to do with sorcery. 
“Retirement isn’t something a lot of sorcerers get to experience. Most of them die young, and the ones that do survive have so many disabilities that doing anything later in life becomes impossible. If life is favorable to me, and I have all my limbs and mental health by that age, I would love to retire and spend the rest of my days in peace.”
“What does peace look like to you?” you had asked him in a hushed voice, feeling ecstatic about finding out these little details about him. 
“A beach, in a country with a low cost of living. Perhaps I’ll live right on the sand, a book in hand, and just take in all the sunshine.” His eyes had taken on a faraway quality, the whiskey color becoming more honeyed, little flecks of gold visible in his irises as though whatever he was thinking of had lit a candle inside him, illuminating his whole being. You could only stare, unable to comprehend how beautiful, how vulnerably human, he looked in that fleeting moment before it vanished behind an impenetrable curtain of indifference. “But that future is a very slim possibility. I don’t like building castles of air.”
The warmth that had settled in your chest dissipated, and you were left with the man you had grown used to; contained, jaded, pessimistic. 
“But what if it does happen?” you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. 
He let out a sound that could have been interpreted as a disbelieving chuckle. “Then I’d better think about using something more solid than air to build my castle.”
“Y/n-san?”
You’re jolted back to reality as Yuji hands you a tissue. You hadn’t even been aware that you were crying, tears rolling down your cheeks, eyes puffy and red.
“I’m sorry guys.” You dabbed at the tears. “Got lost in thought.”
“We all miss him, Y/n-san,” Yuji says comfortingly, but his voice trembles. “He was more than a teacher to all of us.” 
“And we’re still a team despite him being gone,” Ino says assertively and presses the takeout container into your hands. “Eat. You need to.”
you open it to reveal a breakfast sandwich, and although you don’t have much of an appetite, the thoughtfulness of the boys is so sweet that you don’t feel like setting it aside for later. Taking a bite, you try to distract yourself from your own feelings.
“So they weren’t able to recover Gojo from the prison realm?” you ask, trying to get off the topic of their deceased mentor. 
Ino shakes his head no, and you are relieved to see that most of his wounds from his fight with Ogami have healed, almost imperceptible to the eyes of a non-sorcerer, although there was a scar running down the left side of his face now.
“They’re doing a recovery throughout Shibuya station, but it’s mostly to pull items belonging to the people who died. You know, to return to their families.” Ino sighs and rests against the wall of your room. “They haven’t found Nanami-san’s blade yet.”
This bit of information is unexpected, and you look at him, then at Yuji who is also listening intently. 
“I mean…it probably got lost underneath all the rubble, right? It’ll turn up eventually.” You swallow, hoping the weapon wasn’t lost to the destruction of Shibuya Station. 
“I hope so. I’d imagine Nanami-san would want me to have it.” Ino sits down on the edge of your bed. Yuji however, gives him a look of disapproval. 
“Why do you get Nanamin’s weapon? I was his student too.”
“Yeah, but I trained under him the longest. By that right, it should come to me.”
“What if he has family? Wouldn’t it go them?” Yuji countered, trying to think of a reasonable argument for why Ino couldn’t simply lay claim to the blade.
“He didn’t have any family,” you say quietly, not really invested in the conversation. Ino and Yuji continued to debate, their conversation becoming indistinct buzzing to you as you finished your sandwich. 
“He was your teacher too Y/n-san,” Ino interjects suddenly, with a touch of surprise. “Why aren’t you more interested in who his blade goes to?”
“Because I knew how much he hated using it.”
Your words carry an intensity that makes them both quiet down instantly. As powerful and wonderful as his blade was, you knew your mentor’s distaste for using it. To him, it was a means to an end, no different than using a rifle or an axe. He used it for the sake of exorcising curses, but the blade itself carried no personal meaning to him. 
“Nanamin hated his blade?” Yuji asks in a small voice. The disappointment in his eyes had you quickly backpedaling.
“Not the blade itself. I think more so, what it represented for him. A life as a sorcerer. Of facing death every day, knowing this was his duty and he couldn’t escape it.”
Silence follows your words and you wish you hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t meant to put a damper on the boys’ spirits but you couldn't keep quiet either. They were young, in awe of their late teacher who must’ve seemed like a much older man, dispensing wisdom. But knowing how small your age gap was, and how much he hated this line of work, you found yourself compelled to make sure they knew what you knew; that Nanami Kento was a hard-working man, but he never found any joy in using his now legendary weapon at all. 
And unknown to them, You had already scavenged Shibuya Station after the emergency evacuation orders were put through. You hadn’t expected to find much, but somehow, through a stroke of luck, had found his tie, the obnoxiously yellow, polka-dotted tie, peeking through the broken cement and glass, stained with blood. His blood. 
You had yanked it out quickly and stuffed it into your pocket, a little secret you had been carrying around the last few days. It now lay under your pillow; you worried people would judge you for keeping it, for not washing it but somehow, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. At night, you’d run the tie through your fingers, feeling the material slip smoothly through, the faint scent of his cologne still on it. You knew you would never be able to wash it until the last vestiges of that scent faded away. It was the only thing that brought you comfort, that and remembering the day you found out the history of the odd color and print of the tie.
The 4 four of you had been out at the amusement park, Ino and Yuji energetically running around from one ride to the next while you and Nanami had waited in line to grab food for everyone. As you sat waiting for the boys to come back, you had gathered courage and asked him a question that had been in the back of your mind since you became his apprentice.
“Nanami-san?”
“Hmm?” He had turned his focus towards you and you hoped he wouldn’t see the rising color in your cheeks. 
“Why do you wear that tie? It just doesn’t match the rest of your outfit.” You held you breath hoping the question wasn’t too personal. But the tie somehow paradoxically brought his outfit together and also threw it out of style. 
His expression had changed almost imperceptibly. If you hadn’t spent as much time as you did with him, you might not have noticed it. He rested his elbows on the picnic table, as though conflicted to admit what was going through his mind. Then with a sigh, he said, “It’s to remember an old friend.”
“An old friend?”
“A late friend, to be precise.”
Your heart tightened in your chest. A late friend? He had lost someone close to him? 
“It’s a funny story.” Nanami paused as though considering if he should tell you more, then continued. “My favorite show growing up as a child was The Flintstones.” 
You stared at him, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you which you suppressed immediately. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to say something like that.”
“Well, it was.” Nanami’s lips had twitched. “And my friend knew this. As a joke, he got me a tie that matched Fred Flintstone’s outfit.” Another pause, another sigh, as though the next part was difficult for him to say. “I never wore it until after his death. Now I always do, in remembrance.”
“I’m so sorry,” you had said in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to bring up such a sad memory for you.”
Nanami shook his head and looked away towards the Ferris wheel, where the boys had disappeared off to. “It was a while ago. I try not to dwell on it for too long.”
“Thank you for telling me,” you’d murmured. His face had softened as he looked at you, the rest of the world blurring from your vision until all that remained in focus was him, the sharp eyes, the high cheekbones, the straight nose, and the chiseled jawline. Barely 30, yet looking like even a few years of sleep wouldn’t wash away the exhaustion that emanated from his bones. 
“Even if Nanami-san disliked his weapon, it’s still useful to have.” Ino and Yuji were back to debating about the blade. 
You were about to reiterate that you wouldn’t fight them over the blade when suddenly a pale sea foam green light began to glow from underneath your pillow. Both the boys stop bickering, awestruck at the sight. With a trembling hand, you move the pillow, revealing the tie, and making Ino and Yuji draw closer in curiosity. The polka dots on the blood-stained tie were glowing, emanating a warm aura accompanied by a curious scent of lingering coffee.
“What…” You watch with fascination, then look up at Yuji and Ino, who are watching the scene unfold, wide-eyed and filled with wonderment.
“Is that Nanamin’s tie?” Yuji gets closer to the bed, unable to take his eyes away.
“Yeah…I’ve been holding onto it.”
“Is it cursed? Did Nanami-san leave some residual cursed energy when he…?” Ino eyes the tie warily but also speaks in a hushed tone of disbelief. 
You shake your head, the aura not feeling sinister to you. Rather, it felt familiar, like you had experienced it before, in those brief moments when Nanami’s eyes would crinkle from amusement…
You gasp and scramble off the bed as the dots begin to lift off the tie, a vignette of sea foam green surrounding each one. They float ethereally in the air, then, one by one start floating out of your room. 
“Wait!” Not caring that you’re in pajamas or that you’d been in bed for nearly two days, you chase after the dots, bolting out of the room barefoot, Ino and Yuji hot on your heels. People stared at you as you ran. You knew the group must look quite eccentric, the two boys fully clothed and decent looking, while you looked ratty and deranged, hair flying everywhere as you tracked the dots barefoot, not wanting to lose sight of them. 
Finally, the dots make their way into the large courtyard where Nanami would brief you about upcoming missions. They slow down and the trio halts, panting and out of breath. The light surrounding the polka dots brightens before they start arranging themselves into a fixed pattern, you, Ino, and Yuji watching perplexedly.
“Fred Flintstone”
“What?” Yuji looks bewildered. “Who’s that?”
“Isn’t that a cartoon character?” Ino asks, his generation just shy of the classic cartoons millennials had grown up on. 
You cover your mouth, trying not to jump to conclusions. “The Flintstones…”
Could it be? Was he…? You let out a strangled laugh of disbelief but yet, what else could it be?
“It’s Nanami-san!” you whisper, and as you do, the energy signature from the polka dots seems to envelop you, and you feel every small little detail you have ever memorized about him; the little marks that formed on the bridge of his nose when he took his glasses off after a mission, how he enjoyed a fresh pot of coffee in the morning, that little sigh of satisfaction he’d make after completing his daily crossword puzzle. 
Yuji and Ino look at you incredulously, but you have never been more sure of anything in your life. You look at them in the face, tears in your eyes, not from grief, but at how achingly comforting it was to be bathed in the glow of those polka dots. 
“Nanami-san is alive!” 
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avensthetic · 2 days
Text
𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀 (jungkook of bts)
take my hands now, you are the cause of my euphoria
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𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙚𝙪𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖
━━ ╸born as an avgin, plenty wishes for my eyes to close, never to open again.  hated for something i can’t control, even more so now when i too, am in the clutches of the interastral peace corporation. yet you… when you told me without hesitation that my eyes were pretty — no jewels could compare, i thought i had totally lost it. the heart that i thought i abandoned years ago began racing, and i feared you’d hear it pounding, yearning for you. how can you love all that i am?
love, aventurine
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he remembered the first time, under the garish lights of his hotel room in penacony. the hatred he'd grown accustomed to, the whispers and stares aimed at his avgin birth… those were bearable. so when he gave you a clear view of his eyes, aventurine thought he was ready to be scorned once again. he'd expected another flinch, another recoil. instead, you focused on every detail of face as if he were art, tilting your head with a soft gasp.
"your eyes...don’t cover them, they're so pretty," you breathed out, in awe. "they're like jewels." then you shake your head before correcting yourself, “no, no jewel could ever compare to them.”
aventurine's smile had frozen. years of practiced indifference crumbled against that one simple statement. he'd been braced for pity, for revulsion—not this warm, honest admiration. his heart, the damn traitor, thundered against his ribs as if trying to break free.
he swore he breathed out a sigh of relief. how can you not hate it? is this how euphoria feels like? 
yet, he knows, he always did. only in dreams does aventurine dare to feel freely, because here, in a cruel reality, his past will always be in his shadow.
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
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class1akids · 2 days
Text
Some thoughts about Ch 419 - character agency and origin
I'm way behind, but wanted to add my 2c on the debate relating to the AFO "twist" and what it means for Tenko to have AFO at the core of his existence. It made me think once again of the Shouto-Shigaraki parallels .
I didn't take it quite as bad as some of the fandom, because:
we kind of already knew AFO was behind it, we just didn't know the full extent
unlike a lot of people, I didn't think that Tenko being saved by vestige magic hugs, sidestepping Tomura's adult personality and going hand in hand with child!Izuku to fight the big bad would have been a good conclusion.
I also don't think that Tenko not having any agency is necessarily a bad thing. You see, my favourite character, Shouto is a lot like Tenko. His birth, his quirk, the loss of his family, every trauma that shaped him as a child leads back to Endeavor. He's born to be his weapon to use as he wishes.
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His lack of agency doesn't make him a boring character. In fact, I find it fascinating how the story shows us Shouto clawing back his agency, identity inch by painful inch, until he's able to stand firm and say - so I can AFFIRM the reason for being born. So let's look at saving Shouto, because I do think it's kind of a blueprint not only for saving Tenko/Tomura, but to Tenko/Tomura rising to save others.
And if we remember Shouto's journey - yes, it starts with a moment of a hero reaching out to him, reconnecting him to his child self who was told that he can choose who he wants to be, he can be a hero.
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Notice though how being reconnected to his child self, is not an insta-save. Baby!Shouto doesn't just take over UA!Shoto and erase his personality or past mistakes. Shouto himself has to do the work. He has to face his own shitty choices, like giving the cold shoulder to Inasa or not seeing his mom for a decade and try to reconcile who he is NOW after the abuse, grooming and being driven by negative feelings. Taking ownerships of his mistakes (even if the source is Endeavor) is one of the ways to emancipation.
But it's also not a straight path. Shouto experiences being faced with his childhood dream as a nerf (just like Tomura did now lose to AFO) because of the trauma and doubts he carries. He momentarily loses his will to fight.
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For people who never had agency in their lives like Shoto or Tomura, the simple truth that you get to make choices is hard to internalize and the constant doubt whether it's a choice you make by yourself or are you just walking down the path your "creator" set out for you remains.
And how could it not? Shouto wants to be a hero and wants to be not like his father who is the No 1 hero now. It's a contradiction, no? And it takes Shouto 200+ chapters to come up with an answer to reconcile the tension - he wants to be a reassuring hero - something Endeavor never was. Having this goal in his mind, he's able to accept more and more of the tools his father gave him - his quirk, Endeavor's techniques, even gear that looks like his father's - because as long as he's rooted in his own will, his own goal, he gets to keep his own identity, he gets to affirm his reason.
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This is why I want not some idealized child Tenko to vanquish AFO. I think it's much more powerful if the person who makes a return is Tomura (who is also Tenko, but I use Tomura as a shorthand for his adult self, the person who he has become).
And while it's undeniable that AFO is deeply at the core of Tenko's origin (just like Endeavor is for Shouto), I also think he's gaslighting Tomura when he says Tomura never made a choice. And I'm talking about the League here specifically.
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The bonds Tomura created with Touya, Toga, Spinner, Compress, Twice, Magne, etc - are fully choices he made. AFO let it happen - but the League (a place for outcasts to be accepted) are Tomura's choices.
Just as for Shoto the friends he made are instrumental in him earning his agency, being able to affirm his existence and not crumble from tragedy, the LoV is the key for Tomura to start to claw back his own.
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And that's why I think it's narratively desirable for them to be part of Tomura's endgame (also to mirror Deku who would be fully an OFA/All Might creation if not for the friends and allies he made for himself and who all come to his aid in the end).
The League is also the place where the Tenko/Tomura faultlines can be reconciled into a whole. Tenko's desire to be heroic (to play with the outcasts) and Tomura's desire to stand with his allies/friends (the villains). So it boils down into a moment of wanting to be the Hero of the Villains. That's Tomura affirming himself right there. This is not AFO's path for him, but it's him reintegrating everything he has become, his truths and understanding of the world, his bonds that shaped him into that childhood dream. (It's like Shouto's "reassuring hero" moment).
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And I think Tomura losing himself to the trauma, PTSD, etc. momentarily is ok too. He lost the rage that drove him forward (like Shouto in the final of the Sport Festival) and is untethered right now. He will need to find a positive emotion to become his drive to take him forward.
But his power will surface with the right trigger, just like Shouto showing up at the Stain fight wielding his newly liberated fire to help Deku was the real pay-off for their Sport Festival fight. (But only after Shouto digged deep inside himself and went to face his mother, face the existence he was given and the hurt it caused to his family with the actual reality.).
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I think Tomura will also need a "deep dive" to compare his perception of the world to the current reality. Is society as passive and worthless as his perception of it? The heroes all fighting together, the civilians pitching in feels like there is a change compared to the passive hero society he remembers. But I think the real trigger should be / will be the LoV coming in. Because is it true that AFO made him choose them?
The LoV despite their bonds being real and deep couldn't save each other because they were all spiralling deep in their own traumas. But now Toga and Touya also had their own moments of reconnecting with their child self and having that child's original desire fulfilled (for Tenko - a hero came, for Touya - his family watched him, for Toga - someone accepted her as normal) but of course it's not a magic solution.
Because that moment would have saved the child they were, but not enough for their current selves. They will also have to make their own choices going forward. I think all of them can find the reason to face AFO now - Toga still wants to protect the things she likes, Touya maybe able to move beyond his father's reasons and look for his own, but not from a revenge perspective, Spinner is loyal, Compress I think will also come.
How, you ask? Well, Kurogiri is still black with bits of white. He still has in him the conditioning to protect Tomura, but also infused with Shirakumo's genuine care. I think just like Oboro helped the heroes to round up everyone, Kurogiri will round up Tomura's allies.
And once they are there, Tomura will rise up to them and will be the hero of the villains, joining forces with Deku and everyone to finally finish off AFO (and maybe save his friends). Because even with the little agency he had over his life, those choices were his alone, and he will be able to root his identity in that.
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hwanchaesong · 18 hours
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Idyllic (Mutual Pining) Preview
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pairing: Jake X F!Reader
synopsis: He conceals his presence well and you are a good secret keeper. A combination that ends up in a museum of doubts and hesitance. Then again, a game of hide and seek never hurt anyone, right?
word count: tba
genre & warnings: angst, smut, fluff, warnings tba
a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷
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You tried to hold your tears back, keen on not showing any signs of weakness, not on a special day like this.
It's your birthday, for fucks sake!
The day you were born, the day you graced the earth with your presence. It's a day where you're supposed to feel like you're the only girl in the world.
So why the fuck are you outside, in the garden of the party hall that your friends went through the trouble of renting? Why the fuck are you sitting on a grass while wearing your prettiest dress, weeping like a child?
"Y/N? Why did you leave the party?"
Ah, there's the reason.
Sim fucking Jaeyun, better known as Jake.
"No reason," you tried to stabilize your voice, key word: tried, "just needed some fresh air."
Jake squinted his eyes at your slumped figure, he'd be lying if he says that he believes that pathetic excuse of a lie that you told him. He'd be kidding himself if he says that he wasn't able to read your body language, clearly, something is bothering you.
"Tell me." he declares, walking closer to you and that turned on a switch in you, panicking on what you should say because he can't see you like this.
He's not supposed to see you in such a sorry state, sporting Rudolf's red nose when it's months away from Christmas. Fat, ugly tears pooling in your eyes and your mascara must be ruined by now. He's not supposed to see you being this down bad for him, to the point that you're willing to bawl your eyes out in a place like this.
"Don't come near me! Please, leave me alone." you accidentally yelled at him, wrapping your arms around yourself and totally losing it. You hid your face on your arms, sobbing quietly, not having it in you to continue bearing the pain of having the love of your life be the loss of your life in one night.
It was your fault. Everything was your fault.
You didn't confess to him when you had the chance. You let him meet new girls, you supported him when he said that he wanted to talk with the girl that was recently transferred in your class.
It was your fault for being a mess, for being a coward. It was your fault for settling in the title of being friends.
The times when you shared secret glances across the room, the touches that were far too long to be considered platonic but never really given the meaning that they deserve, the sweet nothings that you whisper to each other after a long, tiring day.
You were the culprit behind the heist, so really, you shouldn't act like the victim. It's unfair for him.
You deserve this, to be left alone, wallowing in self-pity and cursing yourself repeatedly until you couldn't breathe anymore.
As your castle crumbled, you felt warm arms around you, the familiar figure dropping to his knees, pulling you onto his sturdy body, fingers soothing through your tangled strands.
"Jake?" you whispered his name, hoping that it was him. Wishing that he didn't really leave you, that it's him holding you, comforting you through this situation that you've put yourself in.
He hummed, his answer making your heart explode into the most colorful shades of fireworks.
"I'll be the biggest asshole if I leave the girl I have prayed for all my life here, crying during the day that she was given to me by the gods."
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taglist
@lilyuwon @ramenoil
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briwates · 2 days
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Zero context WIP game ! Thank you @clawbehavior for the tag, excited to do this because I've got like 10 different wips and kept resisting the temptation to post snippets. These fics don't have definitive titles yet so the ones here are approximative descriptions
1. Ms Ji & the Kangs
“Yohan-ah, I love you, don’t cry” Isaac says, patting his baby brother’s stomach when he fusses. They’re both laying on Isaac’s bed after lunch, a bit drowsy in the early hours of the afternoon. Young-Ok watches the two as she folds laundry.
“Nanny, why does Yohan have no eyebrows ?” Isaac asks curiously.
She chuckles at the question, taking a tiny pair of socks out of the basket and folding them together. “Most babies are born without much hair, he’ll grow them later on.”
2. Conversations
Gaon swipes ‘accept call’ and props his phone against a utensil holder as Elijah’s lovely face comes into view. She has cut her hair into a bob, even bangs forming a curtain on her forehead.
“Gaon, it's an emergency ! You need to come to Geneva and do something !” Elijah’s voice immediately comes through the phone speaker, loud enough to be heard over the sound of meat sizzling on the stove. “Yohan is serious about growing that ugly mustache and the clinic receptionist keep trying to hit on him !”
3. Yohan through Isaac's photography
October 1991, Yohan showing me his teeth 
Gaon chuckles at the photo. It’s blurry like the objective had gone out of focus at the last minute. Yohan is giving the camera a smile and scrunching his nose, eyes closed under his fringe like he’s shielding them from the flash. Some milk teeth are missing from his gums, two permanent ones just peeking above the surface. He must have been no more than six or seven here.  
4. Gaon scrolls online forums
"Judge Oh, I have this file I wanted discuss with you"
Jinjoo comes up behind him to see just as he is about to unlock his computer. What greets Gaon after entering his password is the previous night's research topic brightly displayed on the screen. Shit. Carelessly, he had simply shut the laptop before going to bed, instead of closing the tabs and erasing his search history.
Panic and embarrassment seize Gaon on the spot. He's about two hundred-percent certain that Jinjoo got a glimpse of what was written on the screen. Omegaverse fanfiction of him and their boss. Gaon wants to explode.
"You have…a lot of open tabs, Judge Kim."
5. Another snippet from Conversations
“You have something under your eye”
“Hmm ?” Yohan hums, closing said eye when Gaon’s thumb gently swipes across his skin.
“Eyelash.” Gaon flicks it away “crap I should’ve told you to make a wish”
They’re laying on the couch in a tangle of limbs, Gaon on top of Yohan like a weighted blanket, chest to chest, book long abandoned on the coffee table. Kkomi is on the armrest behind Yohan’s head, sniffing at his hair. Gaon yawns into Yohan’s collar.
“We should go to bed.” Yohan says, voice hoarse.  
6. Sunah lives
It is routine until her ears catch familiar voices, ones she thought she would never hear again, along with the cries of a fussy child.
“Gaon-ah, give her to me”
Sunah turns around to see, to her surprise, peering over the café’s balcony, Kang Yohan, his niece, his former associate, passing over an agitated toddler.
“I told you we should have brought her stroller,” Kim Gaon’s reprimands are a refreshing thing to hear “She gets tired.”
“It would have been inconvenient though, with all the stairs and narrow streets.” Kang Elijah chimes in. She is on crutches now, standing just a few centimeters shy of her uncle’s height.
“That’s fine” Kang Yohan hauls up the little girl against his chest so that her head rests on his shoulder, pats her back. “Appa will be the stroller today."
Tagging @thedeviljudges if you feel like doing it !
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sistercara · 3 days
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👋
Tell me about Obeka? Are you planning a deck around her or more interested in her lore and art?
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using this as a poorly veiled excuse to post my shitty meme i spent a little too long on
big rant below the cut lol
her card itself, however, is so fucking convoluted that reading the card does the opposite of explaining the card and any time you build an obeka brute chronologist deck its like proof reading court documents but i mean that in the most enjoyable way like i fucking love how janky and insane she is
so! i already have an obeka deck and it is one of my favorites she was a one-off character in the first commander legends print. she wasnt an important or returning character, or anyone with much lore, she just had a singular excerpt amongst the hundred or so other one-offs added to that set.
anyway heres that excerpt;
Obeka, Brute Chronologist
Obeka will punch you into next week—literally. An ogre mage who breaks the flow of time through brute force, Obeka isn't concerned with piddling details like causality. A right cross from her will knock the baby teeth right into your mouth, and her uppercut is so powerful, your mother will feel it twenty years ago.
Obeka wants nothing more than to live an enjoyable life full of earthly pleasures and knock-down, drag-out fights. Good and bad are of little interest to her, as her only concern is if something sounds fun. She lives exclusively in the moment, and if that moment goes south, she'll beat it out of existence. If you get in her way, consider your wish that you were never born granted.
like--can i be or marry this character holy shit????
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themidnightpanda · 2 months
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and today in "why is fandom so antisemitic" just blocked two more followers in my sideblog, which makes it about 10 of what would have been almost 35 followers over a couple months. because the "all israelis are evil" bs is really big in mcyt circles.
also haven't watched the new season of hc because I don't want to touch the fandom anymore and enjoying things alone isn't as fun when you know there's a fandom. but also the fandom is full of people that wish I was dead so I dont want to be there either. which means right now the only things in my life are the jewish bloggers I follow (love yall) and doing daily challenges in microsoft solitaire. and university ig but it's the weekend and Im trying not to think about my homework rn
also gave up and made a "btw Im israeli plz stop following me if u want me dead" post on the sideblog. hope it works ig.
#its also wild bc I do fandom art on that blog and people love it#even my dad thought it was awesome enough to commission me for his own work stuff once! thats awesome#I got paid for the art I did for him with a merch hoodie from the fandom#and I love it and I love the art I did and I love the original content its based on.#but I cant even watch the new season without thinking about how I want to liveblog but cant because liveblogging attracts attention#and fandom attention scares me now. half a year ago I worked nonstop to get any amount of positive attention in the fandom#I stopped family dinners to watch new episodes and liveblog half an hour after the sessions were out to get people to see my posts#and now. I want none of that#a month or so ago I joined the community discord. the people were so nice to me#and then I went to the vent channel. bc someone mentioned there's i/p stuff in there. its all anti-israel#to the point I felt uncomfortable staying there despite never saying a word about where I'm from beforehand. almost felt unsafe to be there#just... that fandom prides itself on trying so hard to be wholesome and safe after the dsmp fandom ended up so toxic#and here they are wishing I was never born#because I never would have been born if not for this country. my grandparents on my dads side met in the resistance against the british#my parents met at uni. they never wouldve met if not for this country#I wouldnt be alive if not for this country and while I dont like the government I love this country so much#Im just so sad#ישראבלר
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the sandra lynn / fig conversation is driving me Insane. fig saying that sometimes she doesn’t wanna exist as herself at all…not wanting to ask her friends how they see her (because she’s afraid to hear their response) saying that to someone she is a monster and she Cannot stop thinking about it. sandra lynn starting the conversation saying she needs to step up but is also simultaneously taken aback about what fig expresses and doesn’t know how to responds to it and suggests getting ice cream. sandra lynn saying “convincing people they deserve good things is really tough” talking about herself but how it also reflects fig. insane!!
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dipyronegirl · 5 months
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thinking (and rewatching..) inside job again and i dont think rand is that bad of a father? i mean, he made a lot of mistakes and he doesn’t even feel bad ab it, even tho he traumatized reagan and a lot, but he was never absent. he acts like he cared ab reagan’s career just bc it could help his career, but that’s not true. he pushes her to be the best all the time and it’s bad, but he genuinely cares ab her so much. and the whole ‘creating crises to force her to hang out w him’ thing is fucked up, but it’s cute that he just wants to hang out w her that bad. most fathers literally don’t care enough ab their kids to do any of that. most fathers don’t even know their kids as much as he knows her. maybe my standards are just insanely low, probably, but he’s a better parent than 90% of the parents i know
#not just fathers. my standards aren’t lower for fathers than they are for mothers yk. they’re both low#he’s a better parent than my mom#he raised her being completely emotionally neglecting and putting so much pressure on her to be the genius she is#but i mean#my mom was just as emotionally neglecting as he was. i like telling the story ab how she had me stitch up my own wound when i was 8#and always mocked me for being ‘weak’. exactly like toxic masculinity except that we’re both girls. i couldn’t have feelings yk#rand isn’t as toxic as her when it comes to that. he neglects her feelings and even mocks them too but she still seemed allowed to Have them#if my mom thought i was being ‘weak’ she would scream at me ab how much she wished i had never been born. he doesn’t do that!!!!#like when she didn’t wanna skip 4th grade. if that were me my mom would have made me feel so guilty for being born#like i had to skip grades and actively pretend (i’m talking real acting here) to not be upset or she’d go on her rants#ab how life is difficult and depressing for everyone and i gotta swallow it and like it cause she sacrificed her happiness and health for me#cause my being born made her life so hard etc etc#i don’t think rand make reagan feel like her continuing existence kept him from being happy or healthy#my mom started blaming her diabetes on me when i was 10.#like im not fucking kidding#cause my expensive private school (that she forced me to go to all my life cause it was semi boarding so i had someplace to stay all day and#so she didn’t need to leave me home alone) made her work too much which made her stressed which made her eat more so being diabetic was a#sacrifice she made for my future#that’s just how it was#inside job#text
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anxietywasright · 1 year
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Promises dont have any worth you just leave them worthless
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findafight · 5 months
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Anyways. Get on my level. Top 2% of Bruce Springsteen listeners.
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1v0ry2 · 2 months
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kms <3.
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toastsnaffler · 3 months
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everyone say thank u to my roommate for going to visit her parents this weekend so I can jack it loud and nasty 🙏
#i love her but there are some benefits to having the flat to myself.... love getting to wander around in just my boxers + a tshirt too#things i could do while she was still here if i wasnt a pussy 🙄#jk itd just make her uncomfortable and im too respectful for that#having a lowkey crush on her is an endless comedy to me bc we would be so woefully incompatible romantically#and also sexually.. historically ive only ever stone topped bc ive never been comfortable enough w anyone to let them fuck me#despite very much Not being stone or exclusively a top. and i think shes some form of sex repulsed anyway so like. sits there dead silence#and also shes so in love with her other friends and i showed up late to that party.... ive been feeling kinda guilty lately bc ik-#she misses them a lot and wishes we'd be able to stay roommates w them too. and im a pretty poor replacement for them tbh#and i love spending time with her but whenever i do i feel kinda painfully aware im not them like i could never fill that space#and asking to hang out more with her always feels like im taking away from time she could be talking to them. or even being alone ik she-#likes her own company and i get that a lot too so its chill but ahh.. man#i dont mean this in a bitter or jealous way at all like theyre all such sweet ppl i couldnt ever hold it against them#theyre kind of a 3 headed cerberus type situation and im like. the stray puppy they found on the side of the road#theres nothing they can do differently i was just born to be alienated from other ppl forever until i die. and someday i hope ill-#finally get used to it and accept i wont ever feel like im enough for anyone else or feel like anything else is enough for me#old wounds healed over 5082 times that still hurt to touch but i cant help pressing my fingers into them anyway bc its a familiar pain etc#anyway lost where i was going with this its just been on my mind again recently. i hate to be pitied i hate to feel like im only included-#bc they didnt want me to feel left out i hate feeling like a shoddy secondhand stand-in and its been a lot of that lately#also been a little annoyed bc sometimes it feels like shes trying to micromanage my social life and girl. we're not close enough for that#im sure its well intentioned but im not part of what they have going on i cant compete in that ring so dont try to push me into it..#ahhh. its all ok tho one of the guys is coming to visit next month which will be rly fun but ill try to give them some space too#its good at least im doing this processing now bc group situations can be spike traps of triggers for me sometimes#regardless of how good friends i am w ppl and ive already had a wobble a few weeks ago w how i cope and i dont want it to become a#fully fledged regular issue again bc its so hard to crawl back out of that pit. anyway losing coherence here im gonna stop rambling#and go make myself an early dinner and then back to drawing........#sorry for long tags if ur reading this blows u a kiss but go find a better use of ur time girl!!#.diaries
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