#w: asks

[wandasaura]

Wanda and Nat are both such sweet and gentle souls with R, so I'm wondering how a fight would go down. All 3 of them during an argument and the aftermath of it all

˚⋆。°౨ৎ wandanat and dove don’t fight often, they’re usually really good with communication and patience, but they do get into it like any other couple. most times it’s dove that's stuck in the middle as the two avengers go toe to toe, but sometimes, she finds herself in the center of the problem. their spats are usually resolved pretty quickly though, they’re too soft to stay mad for long. ౨ৎ °。⋆˚

warning(s) — alludes to elements of ageplay/discussion of headspace although brief and non-descriptive, mentions of pietros death and canon events, primarily fluff tbh (i got carried away)

The air was thick as you stood red-faced in the doorway of Wanda’s office, flustered and overwhelmed as she trailed behind you, arms crossed over her chest, not willing to drop the topic despite your pleas. Poor Natasha was caught in the crossfire of your argument, looking between the both of you with a pitied understanding. Tension had been rising for days, all three of you had felt it, but the coil had finally snapped when Wanda made a passive aggressive comment about your recent comings and goings.

“Wanda!” You pulled at your hair, eyes brimming with tears that were both angry and hurt. You’d seen her like this a few times, but her anger had never been directed toward you. Now, her venomous words sunk into your skin as she seethed and ranted on and on about your absence and ill-mood. You couldn’t help the long hours you spent held up in the library. You couldn’t help that when you finally did return home, you were drained and too exhausted to maintain a proper conversation, just wanting to sleep. Your dissertation was due in only a matter of weeks, and you’d spent months slacking off in favor of spending time with her and Natasha. That wasn’t their fault, you’d never blame them for the choices you made, but there wasn’t any more time for games as your deadline approached, but she hadn’t seen it that way. “I’m here now!” You nearly stamped your foot, words caught in your throat as you tried to disarm your loaded girlfriend. Your limbs felt like jelly at your sides, nerves filled with static energy as you attempted to break through to her.

“Wands,” Natasha tried to interject for the second time, worry etched across her features as she watched you spiral further down into yourself as the argument dragged on, only a shell of the woman she loved. Confrontation was not your thing, both of them knew that, but Wanda had become so blinded by her own trauma, she didn’t realize what she was saying, or who she was saying it too. All she felt was that same twinge of abandonment she’d experienced on Sokovia when Pietro drew his last breath. All she recognized was that once again, somebody she loved was pulling away.

“Don’t.” Wanda flinched away from Natasha’s touch, her eyes slitted into daggers. She wasn’t seeing you, not really anyways. She was seeing red, and when she got to this point, so caught up in her head that all she saw was tendrils of chaos magic and flashes of red, it was best to just let her calm down on her own terms. “Don’t touch me.” She put distance between herself and Natasha’s soft body with a raised palm, shuddering violently as her emotions worked on her patience and outer reserve. You never liked seeing her like this, but you especially didn’t like being the cause.

On the few occasions that you’d witnessed this side of her, it was usually some moron at work that wound her up to this point, but now it was you, and you felt sick to your stomach watching her break. Standing in the doorframe of her office, your laptop still open on her desk and illuminating the otherwise dark room, you watched helplessly as she walked away, muttering beneath her breath that she was going to bed. Your heart sank to your feet as you watched the guest bedroom door swing close, flinching into yourself when the harsh slam ricocheted off the walls and bounced off of your skin.

“I just-” You looked at Natasha helplessly, not knowing what words to say to get her to understand. You didn’t have to say anything though, Natasha knew. Sadly, she closed the space between your lonely bodies, letting you fall into her chest when she was in arms distance. Your sobs broke her heart, but there was only so much she could do to ease the pain you were feeling. It was Wanda that you needed, Wanda that you wanted, but the other half of your heart was locked away and isolated all because you failed to better prioritize your work.

“I know, milaya devushka.” One hand held your waist while the other cradled the back of your head as she let you weep into her shoulder and dampen her tank top. “She just needs some time.”

A crestfallen wail rattles your chest, pleading eyes searching Natasha’s face for any indication that this isn’t real. You’ve never fought like this before, and you didn’t like the way it felt in your belly as you thought about the empty space that would take up your bed tonight. “She’s mad at me.”

“She’s not mad.” Natasha shook her head, letting go of your head so that she could grasp your chin in her calloused hand, keeping your eyes locked on hers instead of letting you hide away again. “She’s scared. You’ve spent the last few months attached to her hip, dorogoy. I know that you’ve been putting off your assignment, she knows that you’ve been putting off your assignments, but right now, I think she’s confusing your absence with abandonment. She’s not used to you being gone, just like you weren’t used to her having to work long hours in the office. She just needs to adjust, she’ll realize eventually.”

“She was mean.” You admit, tears soaking your cheeks as you rest against Natasha’s palm. She hates seeing you so beat up over this, hates knowing your delicate heart has been through the ringer at the expense of someone you love the most, but all she can do is be there for you and hope that everything falls back into place. Couples fight, especially ones in your situation, but she also knows that Wanda’s more than just a girlfriend at the end of the day. She’s the one you confide in first, the one you seek out when you want someone to understand you without having to explain anything, she’s your Mommy, and the balance of your relationship will never be as simple as just romantic lovers with a history of traumatic events.

“I know she was mean, baby. You just have to give her some grace right now.” You nod weakly, letting Natasha led you into the dark bedroom that lacks Wanda’s presence, sinking into the mattress with limbs as heavy as your heart, hoping that tomorrow is a better day.

˚₊‧‎ ౨ৎ ‧₊˚

Morning came before your body was willing to accept the kiss of sunlight against exposed skin, but truthfully it wasn’t the approaching dawn that woke you, it was the sensation of a body sinking into bed. With your head on Natasha’s chest, you knew it wasn’t the assassin that slipped in next to you, so it must’ve been Wanda. Her side of the bed had been left untouched, cold and empty as you occupied as little space as was physically possible. Her absence weighed on your heart even in your dreams, but the warmth of an additional arm slinking over your waist lightened that pain the slightest bit.

“I know you’re awake.” She whispered, her voice hoarse and gravely like it was every morning. Despite the hurt that gnawed at your belly for hours until sleep eventually took over, you sank into her embrace without hesitance, twisting around beneath the heavy blankets until your head was resting on the satin pillowcase and your eyes were locked with hers. She tried to smile, but all she managed was a weak grimace that broke your heart. She hadn’t slept a wink, bloodshot eyes and sunken in features all the evidence you needed to make that conclusion. “I’m sorry.” She admitted into the quiet of your bedroom, sniffling when the onset of tears made it difficult to keep her words even.

“I know I’ve been gone a lot recently, and I know I haven’t prioritized a lot of time for us to Wanda and Y/N, but I didn’t realize it would hurt you this much.” You whispered back, not giving her the chance to dwell on the mistakes of last night. Nothing could change what had happened, but you were willing to move on from it if she was. You missed her, you had missed her before she chose to sleep alone, but now that longing had been amplified.

“You’ve been fighting your headspace. I didn’t realize how much I would miss those little moments until you took them away, and I let myself think the worst. I’m so proud of your work, moya lyubov, I just miss us.” She leaned in to kiss your nose, laying her forehead against yours as your legs tangled together beneath the thick comforter, weeks of separation finally coming to an end.

“I miss us too.” You sighed, more than content with this simple moment, even if it lacked Natasha’s sarcastic wit. The widow was awake, both you and Wanda knew that, but you were thankful she chose to keep her mouth shut as you finally confronted each other with feelings you’d been pushing away. “Promise we’ll never do that again? I hated it.”

“Never again.” Wanda promised, “That was the worst nights sleep of my life.”

A groan interrupted your sweet moment, the redhead on your otherside finally having enough of her chosen silence. “You guys are cute, but some of us are trying to sleep.”

A giggle tumbled past your lips when Wanda rolled her eyes, red tendrils of chaos magic ambushing Natasha square in the face like the sensation of a fluffy pillow. Your laughter only amplified when the fit redhead twisted her body on top of yours, slim fingers digging into your ribcage as you wriggled and squirmed beneath her.

milaya devushka — sweet girl / moya lyubov — my love

[mimimar]

(open pages for better image quality)

the moment I heard elphaba's delivery of "there's a girl i know..." in i'm not that girl i knew i had to draw this comic, i strongly recommend listening to it while you read for the full experience!

this comic is a companion to this piece (which was inspired by glinda's delivery of the same line in the i'm not that girl reprise).

pages 1-4 are from elphie's pov, pages 5-8 are from glinda's.

prints of individual pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

flower meanings in order of appearance:

[prlssprfctn]

Batsiblings convince Jason to get himself a cooking Tiktok account, and he gives in. To his surprise, he quickly gains millions of followers and a loyal auditory. The only problem? Jason has no idea that these people came here not necessary for recipes.

Jason: Geez, my followers had been pissing me off lately.

Dick, confused: Huh? Why?

Jason: They keep commenting ATE. Like, dude? Fucking where? I am not eating in my cooking videos. What is the fucking point?

Tim, choking: Oh my fucking God-

Jason, making an angry text post for his followers: YOU ALL. STOP COMMENTING "RAW". MY MEAT IS NOT RAW. I AM A PROPER COOK. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???

Cassandra: Maybe it is time to tell him...

Tim, Steph, Duke, in unison: NO

Bruce, awkwardly trying to have a conversation with Jason: Hey, lad, how is your cooking blog is going?

Jason: Uh, people keep commenting cryptid messages. Like, the last time I was showing the right way to tenderise meat for chops because apparently it wasn't clear and someone requested the whole video? Anyway, I did it, and the whole comment section was writing me "in bed, on the floor, on the couch, on a chair, against the wall, against the window, against the door"... Like, why would I do that, not in the kitchen?

Bruce, no less clueless: Maybe it some kind of challenge. Kids love trying new stuff in extreme places nowadays.

Jason: Huh. Maybe. Thanks.

Bruce, just proud to have a proper conversation and somehow a help: Anytime, Jaylad!

Damian, who was unblissfully educated on the slang matter by Tim (because it was his responsibility as a big brother to traumatise him), with his eye twitching: ...None of these words were in Quran

[cryptidmickle]

hey stop holdin him like that hes supposed to be brooding

[noodles-and-tea]

*slides over in an inconspicuous manner with my chin in my hands*

Thoughts on Absolute SuperBat?

I’d never read the comics, so I went to do some research and was totally blindsided by the height difference

[iveoy]

watcher grian

[stealingpotatoes]

The TCW-ESB timejump au lives rent-free in my head! Do you have any more sketches or something to bless the Internet with?

ah one of my many comics i've accidentally abandoned <3 here i made you this to make up for it

(commission info // tip jar!)

[foolsocracy]

Hi, I love your art! Would you ever consider drawing the Fab Five as adults?

hell yeah

[aveloka-draws]

can i give your goat an onion

[wandasaura]

Dove has her girls wrapped around her finger, so what would an ideal Dove day look like?

— DOVE DAY

warning(s) — pure fluff, headcannon format

ꕤ an ideal dove day consists of cuddles, cuddles, and more cuddles. she’s entirely clear about what she expects from her lovers when they finally have a minute to breathe without mission report deadlines or alien invasions. wanda and natasha don’t have any arguments, content to give love however it wants to be received.

ꕤ they wake dove up with kisses all over her face, lounge in bed until they can’t ignore their grumbling bellies any longer, and even then they stay cuddled up close until wanda chooses to be the responsible one and drags them downstairs and into the kitchen for a homemade breakfast of belgian waffles and eggs. dove sits on the counter dipping her finger into the powdered sugar when she thinks wanda won’t notice, and natasha sneaks her mouthfuls of whipped cream when she’s sure that wanda is looking right at them, smirking teasingly at her younger girlfriend who just rolls her eyes affectionately and holds back her scolding because she can’t deny how cute it is to watch her little dove wriggle around in excitement thinking she’s pulled something over on the all-knowing witch.

ꕤ they eat in the living room, which is a treat in and of itself because wanda is strict about keeping mealtime confined to the kitchen, but today is all about doing what dove wants, so they cuddle up under fluffy blankets and watch whatever movie seems most interesting. dove falls asleep everytime without fail, but she is adamant that it isn’t her fault, how is she means to stay away when her head is in natasha’s lap, her hair being twirled and braided, and her legs are thrown across wanda being tickled and rubbed and massaged. it’s clearly not her fault at all, and wanda and natasha are happy to take the blame, because that was their plan all along, not that their innocent little dove was aware.

ꕤ dove wakes up in the same position she fell asleep in, content to know that she hadn’t been left at any point during her nap, and depending on who’s closer, she sinks into their lap, chest to chest and face to face, smiling with a sleepy daze in her eyes.

ꕤ they stay like that for hours, making light conversation, cracking jokes, fighting off tickles when she’s particularly cheeky, until they get up to make lunch, which is always grilled cheese.

ꕤ natasha cuts dove’s sandwich diagonally, much to wanda’s displeasure because she believes in cutting it straight down the middle, and every time she makes a comment about it, it results in dove and nat rolling their beautiful eyes and calling her weird with teasing smiles. they eat in the kitchen, talking about life and upcoming events, throwing out ideas about how they’re going to spend the rest of the day, just reconnecting and making sure they’re all on the same page.

ꕤ after lunch one particular day, dove decided she wanted to go on a walk. the neighborhood they lived in was relatively quiet, and their neighbors were respectful enough to turn a blind eye when all three of them decided to venture out. they were just normal people doing normal things when they had the chance to be out together, so wanda and natasha agreed, although wanda was adamant that even if it was a dove day, she needed to wear some kind of jacket. dove huffed and stomped toward the closet, mumbling about stupid wind and jackets, much to the amusement of her girlfriends. they knew that she would freeze before she willingly wore a coat, but a sick dove wasn’t something they wanted to see, so wanda didn’t pay much attention to the mini tantrum that was more amusing than anything else.

ꕤ they wonder around for hours, getting lost down deadend streets, stopping at a local florist and picking up a bouquet of daffodils and daisies, taking advantage of every hour of sunlight they had left of the day, not knowing when they’d have this extent freedom again. when the cold became unbearable, and lips were becoming blue, they decided to go back home.

ꕤ wanda put the flowers in a vase while natasha made hot chocolate to warm them up. dove watched them fondly, content with their adventure and just having them both home for the entire day. it didn’t happen as often as she would’ve liked, but she would never blame them for that. she understood their commitments, but that didn’t stop her from wanting more of this.

ꕤ after hot chocolate was made, dinner was eaten, and pajamas were thrown onto warm bodies, they carried out the same routine as they did that morning, watching movies, cuddling on the couch, laughing and joking and just enjoying each others company until eyes were dry and limbs were heavy. so, they climbed the stairs toward their shared bedroom, they went through night routines, and then fell into bed in the same order they’d always kept. dove fell asleep first, then wanda, and natasha watches them both breathe until eventually she lets herself drive off too, already anticipating the next chance they’d have to do this.

[sardonicdoll]

wanted to do my photo project this semester on the notion of mobility aids being extensions of our bodies, the yarn was done by a friend

edit: the shibari comments are one thing but if you put these non-sexual photos of me in my wheelchair on your porn blog i'm blocking you 👍🏻

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[foxdoodles]

*waits for alecto the ninth faster*

[paintedcrows]

Evening in the Lab

[housecow]

does your belly fit in the waistband of the brown pants you were wearing in your video from the other day?

yes 🥺 for now!!

also—the full video for this was posted on my OF and on the drive :3

[ciearcab]

happy late birthday to this guy