Fanfiction Writers Watching The Slow Trickle Of Views Or Likes On Their Fics Just Waiting And Hoping

Fanfiction writers watching the slow trickle of Views or Likes on their fics just waiting and hoping for a comment or reblog.

Always grateful for Likes, even more thankful for Reblogs, but Comments (even hidden in tags) can turbo charge and power a writer through even the worst of blocks. Or at the very least turn a mundane day into a fantastic one.

Best case: When I see someone "Like" my fic and then immediately get notified that they've become a "Follower" (Wait, has that even happened?), I'm gonna be just like, "Screw sleep--I'm staying up to write more for this New Bestie Whom I Haven't Even Met."

Dear Readers, please don't underestimate how valuable your comments are to writers. Even if it seems trite or generic, or took you 3 seconds to write or has 1 typo for every 10 words. It is always appreciated and could be the reason someone sits down to complete 1,000 words that day. With little effort, you can become a starving (literally or figuratively) artist's muse.

Please go ahead, my inbox is always open to crazy asks

Reblog if I can go on your page and write stupid things in your ask box whenever I'd like to.

OH MY GOD !!!

I love this, Red is so feral in this ;)

okay am actually obsessed with feral reader & i saw you’re taking prompts/requests!! so how would feral reader react to joel being injured 👀 either while on patrol in wyoming or on their journey there w ellie

Aww thank you!! I'm so happy people have taken to her! And yesssss I'd had something along this line roughly in my head so I'm definitely down with this prompt!

Beast Joel Miller x fem!reader The Last of Us (Show/Game) 2.3k Words Warning: Gore, violence! Really putting the feral in Feral Reader lol

Later, she’d tear herself apart because they knew better. They knew to stay in pairs, knew to still be cautious, knew to not be so casual about the trips to the outskirt cities during patrols. It didn’t matter how long they’d been at Jackson, they knew what life was like outside the walls and it wasn’t something they could be nonchalant about. Complacency led to death and Jackson gave you a taste of that life. Life before a monstrous fungus destroyed everything. They were paying for that delusion now.

She grit her teeth at the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of Joel’s growl of pain and anger coming from around the corner where she was hiding. Something had felt off and she’d come back only to find he had been ambushed, wrist shackled to a pipe low to the ground and cut on his forehead bleeding down into his eye. The bruise blossoming on his cheek told her he’d already taken a few punches.  

From her hiding spot, she could see there were two guys in the room with him. One crouched down holding a knife close to Joel, blood smeared across his face from a busted lip and black eye already forming. The other was standing closest to her, watching what was unfolding with a pistol hanging loosely in his hand. She almost snarled at the site of the blood spreading from Joel’s side, turning her favorite denim shirt dark red from some injury she couldn’t fully see. He was as angry as she was, brow heavy and glaring up at the two with a sneer. It was a stare that had promised violence, had signed death warrants and delivered it. They’d hurt him. They’d hurt Joel. It wasn’t an impossible thing. He was human. She’d seen them get into fights before, but this time they’d cornered him and there was no Ellie barrier. No leash that told her to be quick and efficient and not freak the kid out. No second focus for her. No one besides Joel to protect. All she could feel was rage because they’d hurt one of her people and were enjoying it, grins on their faces and chuckles leaving their throats. Her hackles raised, teeth grit together to the point her jaw hurt, as her hand gripped the bow she’d brought. They had planned to hunt. Got tired of dinner experiments and attempts to cook so they were going back to what they knew. Hunting wasn’t entirely off the table, just a different kind of prey was the target. She’d have to move fast. Move before the one closest to Joel could hurt him, move before they could react and shoot either of them. She didn’t have the same brutal strength her partner did but she was quick and quiet and that was all she needed. Taking a deep breath, she swiveled around the corner and drew the bowstring back taut, feeling it almost kiss her cheek before releasing with a quiet swish. It was fast and at close range the arrow hit home hard and brutally into the back of the guy closest to her’s skull. 

A choked gasp left his throat from the impact then he was sliding to his knees, crumpling and drawing the other’s attention. Even in the chaos she could see Joel’s eyes flick over, take her in as she ran in a dead sprint towards the one crouched by him. He was still kneeling, knife in hand, but he was slow to react. In the back of her mind, she wondered how these men could have gotten the jump on him. Maybe all the jokes about him getting older were starting to ring true, her complaints about settlement life making them complacent coming back to haunt them. Domesticated. They’d been domesticated and for some reason that pissed her off more. The stranger hadn’t managed to get off the ground fast enough and instead was the perfect height for her to get the bow around his neck and yank him hard into her knee. He choked and wheezed, arms flailing as she growled and pulled. She pulled with all her strength, using her arm strength to keep the bow as tight against his windpipe as she could while her knee pushed him harder and harder into it. Ellie had asked once if they had ever snapped anyone’s necks. Like in the movies where they simply yank the goon’s head slightly in the other direction and it cracks, easy peasy. She’d told her it wasn’t that easy. Spines and necks are actually a lot tougher, can take a lot of strain and usually need a lot of pressure to break. Right now she wished it was that simple. Wanted to see how much pressure she could drive into his spine before that crack would reach her ears. The guy finally stopped flailing in panic and decided to use the knife still in his hand, stabbing wildly over his shoulder in an attempt to reach her and get her off him.

Joel was bucking and yanking at the cuffs, yelling as he attempted to get free or reach them to help. His hand was turning purple from the pressure and the blood in his side was spreading even more. She wanted to tell him to quit it, to think and focus because he was only hurting himself. 

Both her hands were starting to hurt from the strain of pulling the bow and he wasn’t going down. With a hiss, the knife managed to skim her shoulder, slicing through her shirt sleeve. It was a gamble but she couldn’t keep it up, was going to exhaust herself before the guy would be out. When the stranger went to stab her again, she dropped the bow abruptly and grabbed his arm, wrenching it far back and ripping the knife from his grip as he screamed in pain. The knife found its home soon after, stabbed into the side of his head, cutting off the sound of his strained gasps. Jerking it back out, she took deep breaths while holding the knife, panting and watching the body collapse at her feet. There was silence for a bit, the slight clinking of the cuffs rattling against the pipes all she could hear for a second and adrenaline shooting through her veins. She enjoyed that silent moment after the fight was over where all she could hear was the sound of her heartbeat and lungs expanding and collapsing. It was the sound of still being alive. Joel’s eyes found hers and she relaxed a bit, seeing the way they burned. Either from want, gratefulness, wonder, she wasn’t sure. But never fear or disgust and that’s all she cared about. He was safe, they were alive, the people were dead. And maybe that small moment with him was what distracted her right before a third attacker came barreling in, tackling her to the ground. The man was big and angry and screaming in her face. The tackle had put her at a disadvantage, shoving her onto her back with her arms pinned between their bodies along with the knife. She couldn’t get her harms free or make any room to get leverage against him. The third attacker was heavy and her breath had been knocked out of her. She struggled to gulp in the air, to get breath into her lungs, before the man’s hands were around her neck. Joel was shouting her name. The man was spitting and yelling so close to her she could feel the spit land on her skin while his hands squeezed. They were big, were wrapped all around her neck easily. All she could do was buck like a trapped animal, teeth and claws bared as she struggled wildly under his weight. If she got taken out, Joel would be next. If she died, Joel would die. He couldn’t get free, couldn’t get back to Jackson and Tommy, couldn’t get back to Ellie. Her throat was raw and lungs burned, her mind desperately trying to find a solution but all she could hear ringing in her ears was Joel’s yells. The man was almost nose to nose with her, dirty face twisted in rage.

As hard as she could muster, she smashed her head into her attackers, feeling the clatter of bones and teeth shake her skull. He shouted and jerked back, hands loosening just a bit. Not enough she could get her arms free, but enough that she rushed forward and latched onto his neck with her teeth. She clamped down as hard as she could. His skin was dirty and salty and bile rose but she bit down harder and harder. Flesh tore beneath her teeth and blood rushed into her mouth, metallic and sharp, as he screamed and tried to get away from her. It only helped her to do more damage, ripping the skin. Jackson was home, but it wouldn’t tone her down. If anything, it gave her more to protect, more things she would tear herself apart to keep safe. She’d rip the throat out of anyone who dared to hurt what was hers. The man rolled off of her, desperately trying to cover the large hole in his neck as blood flooded out. She spat out the chunk of flesh with a growl and turned over with a hard swing of her hand, the knife skimming off bone before sinking into his chest with a hard thud. There was a wet gurgling sound coming from him and she panted, spitting some of the blood in her mouth onto his body. There was no appreciating the silence this time, no letting the rage simmer down. It stuck to her, hot and bright, like the blood coating her mouth and jaw. “Which one had the handcuffs?” she bit out and almost startled herself at how rough and raspy her voice came out. It felt raw, painful, but she swallowed past it and climbed unsteadily to her feet. Joel’s face was a mask as he took her in, took in the three bodies around him and the blood covering her. He didn’t say anything, only jerked his head at the guy with the shiner she had attempted to strangle. Her body didn’t feel grounded, a second delay in her processing making her feel out of it, but she focused on the taste of copper on her tongue and roughly went through the guys pockets searching for the key. Her fingers wrapped around a small piece of metal and she sighed in relief, thankful she wasn’t going to have to find a way to break the pipe and get the cuffs cut off in Jackson. Joel still didn’t say anything as she walked over and kneeled heavily in front of him, hands going to the cuffs and working to get them undone. His hand and wrist were torn up from all the yanking he had done and she was thankful it wasn’t his dominant one or he’d be pissed. Not broken, but the skin was bruised and purple and would need one of the doctors to look at it along with the wound in his side. The metal clicked and she pulled his hand free, not letting go, instead checking it over completely before she cupped his cheek and took in the gash on his forehead. “Hey,” he bit out the word, eyes dark and lips pressed together into a hard frown. She ignored him, focusing on checking him over and taking a mental log of all his injuries. She should have killed them slower. “We’ll have to scrap this run and get you looked at. I don’t trust those cuffs and the last thing we need is you getting infected,” muttering, she yanked up the bottom of his shirt without even asking and took in the long gash along his ribs, “You’ll need stitches. I can also see if Maria can get the blood out of the shirt and maybe patch the hole. This one’s a good one, I don’t want you to have to throw it away.” Joel growled her name again, this time louder, and grabbed her chin roughly in his hand to  force her focus onto his face.

She clenched her jaw under his fingers, swallowing blood and pain. Waited for the beratement, the breakdown of what went wrong and the self-punishment he liked to give himself so often. Waited for the potential disgust at the violence. But she wouldn’t apologize. He’d seen her do worse for less and she wouldn’t apologize for protecting him.

Instead, he watched her and took in the hard line of her brow, the blood drying across her mouth and chin and smeared all over, the bright fire of rage still burning in her eyes. And then he yanked her forward, kissing her hard and brutally, practically pulling her into his lap.

He didn’t cringe away at the taste of someone else’s blood on her tongue, of the way those teeth had ripped into someone a few moments before. He drank her in desperately, uninjured hand diving into her hair and tightening on the strands. The pain was still there. Her throat was raw and his hand stung as it clung to her side, knife wound bleeding even as he brought her onto his thighs. They both didn’t care, swallowing the other’s gasps of pain and pleasure.

Her whole body relaxed in his grip as if to say he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay and she let herself hold him tight and kiss him.

He would never say thank you. It was a process to get the words dragged out of him, but with him his actions always spoke louder. His fingers skimming her throat whispered that he would have killed them himself if he could, his tongue against hers spoke of his acceptance, his tight grip on her was his gratefulness.

Joel didn’t pull away from her, didn’t try and change her, and she’d rip the whole world apart for him for that fact alone. He was her family and she protected what was hers.

This is so cute and fluffy.

wanda maximoff x black!male!reader.

reader gets badly hurt during a mission and wanda nurtures him back to help. to show how grateful he is, he finds all of her favorite skovian snacks and/or stuffed plushies. just total fluff and soft smut if wanted.

𝐀 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 || 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘛𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘖𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦”

Inspo: Etta James - A Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Black!Male!reader

Summary: Dancing around feelings would only last until Sunday, the start of a new week...

Warnings: none (very tiny bit of angst) because this shit is adorable

Words: 2822

“How’s he been doing?” Natasha’s voice gently pulled Wanda from her thoughts. Blinking rapidly and turning her gaze to the rose-coloured-haired woman. Finding the enchanting assassin to already be watching her with an inquisitive look in her eye. This was something Wanda should be used to since she confessed to a few unannounced feelings she felt toward a specific man. “Been up since he got back from the mission?”

Wanda tilted her head slightly, eyes looking toward the ceiling. Fingertips gently danced along the exterior of her glass filled with a wine that had appeared in the kitchen one day. “He’s stubborn. Doesn’t like the help even when I could knock him over with a tiny press of my finger to his stomach,” Wanda explained, lips slowly curving into a tiny smile. “But his physical therapy has been going well. His skin has been healing slowly, so he’s still very sensitive to the touch.”

When you came back from your mission with Steve, Wanda had been by your side the moment you the Quinjet landed on the helipad. She remembers the sight of your uniform charred with the fabric of your sleeves burnt, revealing your skin that had been caught in some type of fire or explosion. And then she remembered you holding a charming smile when she met your tired gaze. But that had been swiftly followed by you collapsing and Wanda using her powers to stop your fall.

Natasha hummed, shrugging her shoulders. “When he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. he was a pain in the ass. But now, dare I say, he’s slightly easier to work with,” she said. “But with you nursing him back to health, I am sure he’ll soften up some more. Even if it’s just with you.”

“Speaking of Y/n-” Wanda pulled back the sleeve of her denim jacket, looking down at her watch. “-I need to grab him really quick.”

“The rest of the team will be spending out at the Jackpot by the time you get back,” Natasha told her. “So, if you want to come out after you bring him back, then swing by.”

“I don’t think I can,” Wanda sighed, grabbing her keys from one of the drawers. “Y/n’s has to eat, take his painkillers, and then try to sleep. All those steps involve my help which I am fine to do.”

When she heard a quiet snicker, she looked up and found Natasha hiding her lips behind her glass. Making her crack a smile, brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you giggling about?”

Still taking a sip, Natasha hummed with a wave of her hand. “It just seems like you two are together already from the way you talk,” she pointed out. “It’s adorable how much you care about him. Like you two are an old married couple.”

Wanda felt the heat from her body rise and nestle in her face. In the weeks of Wanda helping nurse you back to health, there had been some form of trust and care felt from both sides. Which made Wanda only want to get you back to the best state she could. If that meant driving you around, making you food, using her powers to help you go to sleep when your burns became irritated by the bed, she did it all for you. And maybe that was just her being naive and allowing her feelings to become apparent in her acts of kindness.

“Ok, I’m going to go now. Have a good night with the team, Nat.” Wanda quickly rushed out of the kitchen, hoping to avoid and run away from the older woman’s statement.

But Natasha sat there, a smirk etched on her lips as she shook her head. “Love birds.”

Arriving at the physical therapy that you’d been going to for about two months, Wanda stood in the lobby of the physical therapy office. Through the double doors, she could see you talking to a nurse helping you recover from your injuries. In the mission, you’d suffered a broken light leg with extreme 4-degree burns that left you bedridden for weeks before you started taking things slow with your movements. Wanda had been there for every step you took, holding your hands and helping you move through your room until you eventually were given crutches to move on your own.

But with also being able to see you, she could hear your thoughts, and theft undoubtedly put a smile on her face. Able to listen in on the pure boredom running through your head and how you just wanted to be gone and back at the tower drinking some coffee and watching a movie. Yet, on the surface, you wore an interested look on your face that could get by the nurse who was likely explaining your exercises on Tuesday. But you could care less. You just wanted to enjoy your Sunday.

When you were finally let go by the nurse, you hobbled your way over with a deadpan. Able to see the amused look on Wanda’s face through the glass. Entering the lobby, you glared. “Not one word, Maximoff.”

“But you look adorable when you’re grouchy,” she teased, earning a groan from you. She opened the front door, allowing you to go first before she followed. “When we get back, you can just enjoy whatever TV show you’re going to watch. I’ll make you some coffee.”

God, tonight is going to be amazing

“Just remember that you owe me after this.” Wanda looked at you, finding you inhaled deeply, exhaling heavily.

“Get out of my head, Wanda,” you muttered. “Don’t need you poking around at the stuff that you shouldn’t.”

Since you met her in that old base that housed Klaue and Ultron, she had poked her way into your thoughts. Made memories rise to the surface and remind you of the darkness that clouded it. That was the last and only time you would ever allow her to do such a thing. But now, her being a part of the team and taking care of you, your leniency with her use had wavered. If it meant putting your mind at ease before you slept, then you allowed it. If she wanted to poke around and hear your sarcastic comments when Tony went on rambling about one of his projects, you allowed it since it made her laugh. But to access memories and put you in a state where you had trouble seeing the differences between history and the present, you would never allow it.

“New nurse,” Wanda pointed out, hearing you hum in acknowledgement. “Cassandra couldn’t come in today?”

Opening the passenger door, you sighed. “Yeah, she had some business to take care of today,” you explained. “Her apprentice took care of me today. Not a terrible girl, just was way too thorough than I’d like.”

Slipping into the seat, Wanda leaned down and smirked. “You don’t like anything that doesn’t appeal to your moral compass.” And before you could protest, she shut the door on your face. Silencing you as you exhaled heavily and leaned back in the seat. Glancing over when Wanda got inside, not waiting to pull out of the parking lot and make her way toward the Avengers tower.

The two of you sat in silence for the majority of the ride. That familiar comfort falling over the two of you that needn’t be accompanied by any conversation. It was the beauty of the relationship you two had. There wasn’t any need for words when the presence of one another was enough to relax. And even when you got to the tower, the two of you didn’t speak. Just standing by one another in the elevator till the doors open with the two of you stepping out into the lounge.

Truthfully, Natasha wasn’t exactly entirely wrong in her statement earlier. Wanda was beginning to see the relationship you and she had as something natural. Something that didn’t need to be made official when your guys’ words and actions spoke more than a title connecting the two of you could. For you, even when you were a belligerent fool, you still showed your care and love toward the witch. Because every day when you woke up to the sound of her soothing voice, you felt like there was something to get up to. Like there was something calling and urging you to get started with your day.

Exiting the elevator, you followed Wanda toward the kitchen. “The rest of the team went out to drink. So, you won’t have to deal with any of them for the majority of the night.” Wanda tossed the keys onto the island, moving toward the coffee machine. “I can make you a cup of coffee if you want to go get changed into something more comfortable.”

Wanda looked back at you, seeing you lean your crutches against the island and carefully begin to move through the kitchen. No word was spoken with your actions of grabbing ingredients. And when you came by her side, you placed your hand on her lower back, smiling. “I’m going to need you to scoot over, darling.”

The nickname struck an anvil in Wanda’s heart, the sparks of a burning metal resting on her cheeks She quickly stepped away and allowed you to grab the bottle of red wine she and Natasha had been drinking hours ago. You grabbed two glasses and began to pour. “You can sit and relax,” you told her. “I’m going to make you dinner.”

She wanted to protest and use her powers to sit you down, but she knew what that would result in. Likely you ignore her for the rest of the night or an argument starts over her actions. Either or, she didn’t want to deal with that, and the offer was too good to let down. Especially with her curiosity brewing with the wonder of what scheme you were brewing.

So, she took the glass you extended to her and sat on the island. Legs crossed as you moved with an elegance only a chef could have. Yet, she often needed to remind herself that all her cooking techniques had been from you. Because before you became gifted or cursed with the super soldier serum, you were chef down in the streets of New York. If she remembers correctly, you worked in Hell's Kitchen right next door to where one of your lawyer friends worked.

It often became hard for her to think of you ever being anything else besides a hero. On the battlefield, you were a brutal human being. In the way, you disposed of the opposition or in your moral compass and what you believed was right. So, seeing you cut up these carrots with speed and precision was new every time she sees it.

Glancing up from the cutting board, you met Wanda’s gaze. Her hands zeroed in on your hands, lips slightly parted, and a layered look in her eyes of something you could identify. Making you smirk, clearing your throat. The sound made her blink rapidly, looking up at you inquiringly. “It amazes me that I don’t need powers to understand what you are thinking, Wanda.”

“It’s not like that,” she defended, biting her bottom lip. “It’s just hard to think that you used to do this. After seeing the things you’ve done in the field-”

“I did those things to keep the team and world safe,” you interjected softly, dumping the carrots into the pot of boiling water. “Everything I will do has a reason to it. So, although I understand what you are trying to say, it doesn’t mean I have forgotten what makes me human.”

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, head slightly tilting as she stares at you. “I think even when I’ve seen you kill people you were human, Y/n.” Her words make you falter for a moment, a moment too long that it allowed her to see that her words indeed had an effect on you.

Pursing your lips, you swallowed the lump in your throat and looked back at her. “Thanks, love.”

From there, a blanket of silence rested over the both of you in that comforting and warm way from before. Wanda watched you cook and you soaked up the warm feeling in your chest from being her center of attention. And somewhere in that time, she left to get out of some clothes. Coming back in some shorts with one of your shirts that hid said shorts. It was an adorable sight that you could get used to if things played well in your favour.

But she continued to watch you scoop the food from inside the pot and pour it into the bowls. Grabbing a spoon, and placing it in the bowl, you walked toward the girl and handed it to her. “Thank you.” She smiled, taking hold of the spoon and diving into the dish. It was a soup with some meat broth involved in it. And the smell was so familiar it was hard for Wanda to not feel a warm sense of contentment. And when she placed the hot liquid between her lips, her eyes flickered shut. A deep hum emitted from the depths of her chest as she placed the bowl down.

You had watched and couldn’t shake the smile from your lips. “It’s Borscht,” you stated, gaining the girl’s attention. You shrugged, “I thought you deserved something close to home instead of some random dish we Americans have. And I know you don’t like talking about Sokovia, but I feel like you deserve the little things that remind you of home because we all deserve that right.”

Wanda chewed on the inside of her cheek, the stinging sensation behind her eyes making her blink rapidly. Leaning her face into one of her hands, hiding her features from your curious gaze. And you were left in silence before she finally sat up, sniffling and revealing her tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes.

“You don’t know how much this means to me,” she wept, trying to smile, but the emotions are overwhelming. Causing her face to twist and turn in many expressions of pain and happiness. “Thank you, Y/n.”

The least she expected was to feel your arms coil around her and pull her close. A hand comes to the back of her head and pulls her into your chest. She didn’t hesitate to melt into your body, hands falling to your waist as she cried in your chest.

Although the vulnerability wasn’t new to both of you, this sure was. You hadn’t seen her cry in months since Pietro passed away and Sokovia was destroyed. It’d been months since then and you felt like you might’ve unintentionally brought back some bad memories with the good ones.

Except, when she pulled away from your chest, looking up at you with those teary eyes, you felt like your thoughts had been answered. And when her hands held your face, you felt all worries wash away. Especially when she pressed her lips to yours, replacing the coldness of fear with the warmth of love. Making you seek it deeper, pressing your lips firmer against hers and leaning into her slightly.

The kiss was brief, but it was fulfilling for what it was. Breaking apart only a breath away with your foreheads resting against one another. Wanda licked her lips, letting out a shaky exhale, tips of her fingers gently caressing your jaw and cheek. “I love you.”

You couldn’t help the smile to break out on your lips. “And I love you too.” You pressed a kiss to her lips, to which she reciprocated and sat in this close embrace for a few moments. At least until you jutted your thumb over your shoulder. “So, I may have also had Cassandra grab me some Sokovia candy today.”

That made her eyes widen as you motioned toward one of the cupboards. “I snuck them in when you went to get changed–Which I want to add, you look adorable in my shirts.” You smiled when the girl stared at the colour packaging of the candy. Her lips parted in an open smile, looking up at you with a chuckle.

“I thought you said she didn’t work today?” Wanda reminded.

A soft laugh fell from your lips. “Wanda, will all those powers, you still can’t tell if I am telling the truth or not,” you said. “I convinced her to give her mentor a chance to get experience whilst she did me a favour. Who wouldn’t help out an Avenger to win over the girl of his dreams.”

Wanda felt those imaginary strings pull at the corner of her lips, forming a large smile. “You are full of surprises, Y/n.” Pressing her lips against yours, standing to her feet, she hummed. “I love it.”

Klaus Mikaelson- Chaotic Evil

We begin in the waking world, which humanity insists on calling the "real world". As if your dreams have no effect upon the choices you make. You mortals go about your works, your loves, your wars, as if your waking lives are all that matter. But there is another life which awaits you when you close your eyes, and enter my realm. For I am the King of Dreams, and Nightmares.

Dream of the Endless in The Sandman (2022-)

@usergif 1 year celebration: shuffle challenge day 3: free choice | overlay | character/person profile

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