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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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Q's for you to A

do you have a favourite sweater?

what’s your middle name?

do you still talk to the first person you kissed?

do you get on with your grandpa`?

what was your favourite cartoon as a kid?

what’s your favourite cartoon now?

do you read the news paper?

who was the last text you sent to ?

what does the last text you sent say?

if you could have any hair colour what would it be?

do you like nature documentaries?

what is your aesthetic?

when did you last pet a dog?

whose friend’s parents do you like the most?

have you ever been on a road trip?

tell me about someone you know called emma

are you reading a book in english class, what is it?

do you have a favourite aunt?

baths or showers?

skiing or sun bathing?

do you kill spiders?

have you ever made an ice pop?

are you wearing shoes right now?

tell me about you favourite primary school/elementary school teacher

who was the last person you hugged?

do you wear glasses?

do you have a cat?

do you have a favourite pair of underwear?

what was your last tweet?

do you still use facebook?

do you like birds?

who was the last person you called cute?

who was the last person that called you cute?

how did you meet your best friend?

escalators or elevators?

are you named after anyone, who?

what was your first url?

autumn or winter?

do you win at scrabble?

put your ipod on shuffle , who is the first song that comes up by?

have you ever drunk from a mason jar?

can you draw?

what was your first profile picture?

favourite tshirt?

best tumblr friend?

when did you last run?

do you like to paint your nails?

did you ever do something as a kid that got you into loads of trouble?

who is your favourite dog that isn’t yours?

have you ever been drunk?

have you ever done something you regret while drunk?

do you want to kiss anyone right now?

do/did you like you math teacher?

do you often ride the bus?

do you have a fireplace in your house?

are you violent when you’re angry?

do you cry when you’re angry?

favourite Harry potter book?

can you remember your last dream?

do you go to bed early or late?

do you speak a second language?

who was your first ever best friend?

have you ever had an operation?

tell me about your favourite cousin

do you have a piece of clothing that doesn’t even fit you anymore but you can’t bare to throw away?

have you ever been in a musical?

do you have a porch?

how many times have you watched your favourite movie?

what do you order at mcdonalds?

do you get on with old people?

science fiction or romance?

do you take naps?

how many classes do you/did you take in high-school?

when did it last snow where you live?

does it ever snow where you live?

how many months until your birthday?

how much charge does your computer have right now?

what is your favourite disney channel movie?

the city or the sea side?

what is your least favourite colour?

do you have homework to do?

are you still friends with your first best friend?

do you have/are you the gay cousin?

do you own dungarees?

do you like to play sport?

what was your favourite ever christmas present?

how old are you?

what is your mum’s name?

do you ever use internet explorer?

have you ever had blonde hair?

is their a play park near your house?

when did you last see the person you have a crush on?

who did you last talk to on the phone?

pants or dresses?

do you read fan fiction?

what is you’re favourite blog?

do you write poetry?

drama or comedy?

have you ever had a hickey?

Your own question that you want me to answer

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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Body swap extra (non-canon) spiderverse reference 😂

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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The loss of heroes

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Definitions

PTSD-. (is a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event.

D.I.D- “a mental disorder characterized by the maintenance of at least two distinct and relatively enduring personality states.”

P.P.D- (depression suffered by a mother following childbirth, typically arising from the combination of hormonal changes, psychological adjustment to motherhood, and fatigue.)

Depression-Depression is a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest. Also called major depressive disorder or clinical depression, it affects how you feel, think and behave and can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems

Schizophrenia- schizophrenia (a serious mental disorder in which people interpret reality abnormally. Schizophrenia may result in some combination of hallucinations, delusions, and extremely disordered thinking and behavior that impairs daily functioning, and can be disabling).

Hallucinations- perception of objects with no reality usually arising from disorder of the nervous system

Conventions-A convention, in the sense of a meeting, is a gathering of individuals who meet at an arranged place and time in order to discuss or engage in some common interest. Valkyrior- Within the context of Marvel's shared universe, the Valkyrior is a group of female warriors led by Brunnhilde / Valkyrie that was originally designated by Odin to bring the souls of slain heroes to Valhalla.

God Khonshu- Khonsu (Ancient Egyptian: ḫnsw; also transliterated Chonsu, Khensu, Khons, Chons or Khonshu) is the Ancient Egyptian god of the Moon.

Inertia- a tendency to do nothing or to remain unchanged.

Iron man’s addiction- alcoholism

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Hero a person who saves others. What about the kids who don’t have their hero. What about the kids whose hero was iron man, captain America, Thor, hulk, people like that? Our heroes are gone and we don’t have hope anymore. People say it's all going to be ok, we’ll be ok but what about when we lost all hope. What about those of us whose heroes we remembered as the creations of stan lee. Imagine the silence that has echoed for almost two years and it is still here. It’s not going away. The yelling of the depressed scared kids comes across deafened ears. Our pain fills our ears, mouths, and brains its overriding everything we’ve got left.

Young people now barely past 23 still choke on the mornings of a certain September day. Seeing a corrupt country that still somewhat loved its country shattered to its bones. Broken-down voicemails of a man giving up his right to a family. People staring out windows as a pair of buildings seen as a CenterPoint of a nation crumbles to ash and death stung the air.

Kids shaking in fear as another child points a gun at them. Their last moments in a place that swore it would protect them. Their heads screaming a blissful cry of fear at finally not having to fear this moment again. Yet crying out for someone like their own ‘friendly neighborhood Spiderman’ to come and save them.

So many of us thinking maybe just maybe if ‘so and so heroes’ were real maybe things would be better. Maybe if they were, daddy/ mommy would’ve made it home because they could’ve stopped the fire, the crash, the shooting. Maybe if they were real we could go to conventions and have them give us another reason to smile.

Our generations need so many heroes, heroes like Valkyrie who shows strength in not only being a beautiful woman of color, a leader of the Valkyrior, and a woman who is on the LGBT spectrum. We need heroes some like Deadpool who talk people from jumping off buildings those who remind us we might not be great people but we can change and better ourselves. We need heroes like Moonlight, wonder woman, or Daredevil each of these three has different illnesses I will do a quick explanation of their illnesses, but we need heroes like this who remind us and tell us that it is ok. That even heroes aren’t perfect they are ‘human’ in so many cases.

Moonlight who is a male character who supposedly was given powers to him by an ancient Egyptian God Khonshu. He has been depicted as having D.I.D. He has also been shown hallucinating to the point that in certain comics even the reader becomes confused: Did he ever even have powers in the first place? What is he truly experiencing? There is cases wherein extreme fear of situations he takes on other personalities for long periods. His most notable secondary persona is Jake Lockley. Some even theorizing he may have a form of schizophrenia.

Wonder woman is a non-human who has a human appearance. She experiences a few mental illnesses although compared to some heroes they seem to lackluster and nonserious. Yet although hers are less than painful than some that does not mean they aren’t important just rather a different type. One said illness a very common one in heroes P.T.S.D. For her she had been living her life believing one thing only to find a large portion of the place the memories took place in being false. This and a mix of other things she has experienced sent her into a level of shock which sent her into a catatonic state. She would experience things such as hallucinations of a snake that came out of her arm and would talk to her. (Do not do what she did to help hers see a therapist for help if you can.) She ended up as much as some with an illness like P.T.S.D can she cured herself by doing a form of self-exploration.

Daredevil is a different character. His mental illness isn’t his only illness though. Matthew Murdock is a blind lawyer. He is an extremely interesting character being born from a poor family. His mother started experiencing P.P.D. This led to her attacking matt as young age her husband jack stopped the attack in turn she left and joined a covenant in which later on would meet and connect back with matt. The more important part of that is rather that he could inherit depression. Later on, in his life this mattering on which version his dad who was a boxer would be killed for not throwing a fight. Either being a gymnast/Boxer as a child or be taught by the character stick. Either way, he would at some point lose his sight from trying to save a man from a chemical spill. This would aide in his fighting ability because of his enhanced senses. Yet as with many superheroes’ death plagued him like his own shadow. His two lovers both killed by a very common villain named kingpin. Depression would become an illness he is constantly fighting. A section a comic would show in a set of three panels of his fist seeming to push through a thick layer of a gelatin-like substance that didn’t want to bend. This representing the battle against depression the words accompanying this would hit home for many. “Get up you have momentum now, don’t let the shadows pull you back in. Inertia is the enemy; do something, move. Move Matthew”

This is not to say generations raging back long before D.C. was even an idea didn’t need heroes. Yet rather than their issues were different not to say they didn’t deserve them. Those times didn’t have them and then seemingly losing them. Logically they probably did posters for survival and fighting spirit but they could see and hold the hope themselves without needing to hear things like this to believe they were safe…

“I am iron man” and think that he will protect me even through a screen or comic book page.

“I could do this all day” Imagining him using his shield to protect you from bullets physical and metaphorical.

“With great power comes great responsibility” Knowing that he’ll catch you as you fall into your depressive episodes.

“Odin’s beard!” Knowing that although he could be doing other things there were those with powers to hurt yet use them to help

“Excelsior!” That no matter what there will be hope and there will be those willing to save you in the darkest times.

Now “I am iron man” echoes in pained breaths. “I could do this all day” feels more like a mock of how hard our lives trying to break us down. “Odin’s beard!” Feels like lightning piercing the heart knowing it may never sing out its call again. “Excelsior!” Now there’s an emptiness it licks at the ears, eyes, brain, and heart and it feels like it will never refill.

The face of hope seems stripped away now as a series of movies and characters have finally waved a long-awaited farewell. Wolverine said goodbye as time has gone on the x-men series slowly seemed to lose its tact yet there was always a joy knowing there was a mix of different people keeping us all safe.

Iron man gave his most graceful goodbye, and now his addiction seems more appealing so there’s still a connection. America placed his shield away and watched his sunset, now fighting so that way someone is protecting others seems kind. Thor laughed booming and it echoes trying to claw anything close enough to that joy one last time.

Memories of our heroes will always be here leaving an aching in the lungs.

#hope #marvel #marvel heroes #super heroes #dc heroes #mental health #depression

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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omg 🥺😢 endeavor remembered the kind of flowers rei liked 😭and is actually doing his job 🥺 as a pro hero 😢 by defeating villains 😭 character development ❤️

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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can i request a poc girl who’s insecure about her race and skin color because its rare to see interracial couples and the concept of a white girl dating a white guy is really popular?? it’s uncommon to see a poc girl dating a white man, with todoroki and bakugou? 🥺 thank you if you *do* end up doing this and i don’t mind whether it’s fluff or not 💖💕💓💗💘

Heyyya my lovelies. It's been a while since I did a request. Figured I'd do one before getting back to studying.

This request is kinda similar so to those who requested this, hope ya like dis ❤

Growing up, you had been taught to love yourself. It hasn't always been easy and it took time for you to actually do so, what with the world we currently live in. Not to be ungrateful or anything, of course you are thrilled that little by little the world's perception of beauty is learning to be more inclusive. That the world is being more accepting. But it is undeniable, that there's still this small portion of the world that remains closed-minded.

Bakugo's eyes wander down at you when he feels your grip on his hand tighten. He scowls when he sees you looking around anxiously. He looks around too and he sees people staring. I mean, it is pretty much inevitable considering you two had just recently made your relationship public.

Bakugo understood that some people might find it hard to believe that someone as amazing as you can tolerate a person like him. After all, he did make a reputation for himself. But damn if anyone dares look at you the wrong way, he wouldn't hesitate making a fucking scene.

"What's wrong, baby?" you look up when you hear him ask in a low voice. He pulls you closer to him and planted a kiss on your temple as you both exit the school building. You flush instantly seeing a couple of students around look at you two in surprise. Much to Bakugo's dismay, you let go of his hand. You then look up at him with an apologetic smile, shaking your head.

"Nothing. I-I'll go ahead and just meet you back in the dorm." you mumble then hurriedly walked ahead of him. He tried to catch your hand again but Shitty Hair and Dunce face caught up with him and started babbling about the up coming exam they need help with.

Later that afternoon, you hear a knock on your door followed by your boyfriend's gruff voice. "I'm coming in." he announces, making you grin to yourself and roll your eyes.

"Hey." you greet softly, watching him sit on the foot of your bed. Bakugo sighs and pulls your leg playfully, eliciting a laugh from you. "Stop it." you whine, sitting up and pushing his hand away. Bakugo caught your wrist though and forcefully pulls you into his lap.

"Katsuki-" you say breathlessly. Shuddering when you feel his slightly chapped lips graze your neck. His strong arms wrap tightly around your waist, making escape impossible. "What the fuck has gotten in to you after class?" he asks.

You still under his embrace, you were hoping he'd forget about it and avoid this conversation altogether. But as Bakugo pulls away just enough to meet your gaze, he scrutinizes your face. "Is it that damn bad being my girl?" he frowns. "That you had to fucking let go of my hand in public?"

Your brows raise in disbelief. Bakugo fucking Katsuki thinks you're embarrassed to be his girlfriend, this beautiful boy that you can hardly believe you're able to call yours. You shake your head vehemently, letting your hands cradle his soft cheeks. "No, Bakugo, that's not it. Seriously? And you call me the dumbass?" you ask and laughed dryly, eliciting an eyeroll from him.

"What the fuck was that earlier, then?" he asks, looking frustrated already at this point. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks, searching your eyes. Bakugo would admit, it did sting having you let go of his hand and walkaway like that. You mean the world to him and he's honestly trying his best for you.

You pursed your lips and let out a shaky breath. "It's not you. Don't ever think that. You're one of the best things that ever happened to me, Katsuki." you say, running your fingers through his hair. He looks at you with a confused expression, trying to figure you out. He then leans his forehead against your chest, mumbling "Aren't you okay with being seen with me in public then? Is that it?"

You held him gingerly, gnawing at your lips. Finally, you say, "You're going to think this is so stupid."

"I don't care. Spit out, dumbass." his says, voice muffled. You sigh and nudge him, holding out a pinky to him. "Just promise me first that you won't get mad." Bakugo eyes your pinky ruefully before glaring back up at you. "I can't, Y/n." he says deadpan. "Please?" A growl sounds in his throat when he sees you pout. He then unwillingly links his pinky to yours. "Fine. Now talk ya damn nerd." he challenges, letting go of your waist and leaning back on his palms. You felt small under his piercing gaze and you all but burried in your face in his chest as you confide.

"I'm happy being with you. Being your girlfriend. B-but I can't help but get self-conscious having people look at us when we're out together." Your eyes start to water recalling hearing some of the people from other class make a comment about not pegging Bakugo to be that type of guy to date a girl of color.

"I hate it too, feeling this way." you confess, voice getting thick. "I hate that sometimes I even think that maybe they're right? Maybe I'm just not right for you? And I don't know what to do because I can't shake off this insecurity I feel when I hear people say, 'Oh Bakugo is dating her?'" you pursed your lips, trying to keep it from trembling. You recall the dirty looks you get, seeing judgement in their eyes.

"Like, is it really that impossible for you to love someone like me? Is it so bizarre just because my skin color is not the same as yours?" you ask out of sheer frustration, meeting his crimson gaze.

Bakugo exhales sharply. All along he though it was because you were embarrassed to be seen with him because of how he is. He felt ridiculous now knowing it goes so much deeper. He even felt selfish.

You look away from him as he wipes the tears that you didn't know had escaped, the pads of his fingers grazing your cheeks. He pulls you back in his arms and lays in your bed with on top of him. You feel his lips brush the top of your head before taking a deep breath. He just holds you for a while, his fingers rubbing your back soothingly.

"You already know this but," he starts to say, finally breaking the silence. "I couldn't give a damn what those extras think." A quiet laughter escapes you despite the tears.

"And people with that kind of fucking mindset are a bunch of shitty airheads. For them to judge what we have basing on our physical attribute? Fucking ridiculous." he continues, waving a hand exasperatedly.

"Y/n, you're all that matters to me now." Bakugo murmurs against your temples.

This is the first time Bakugo has ever been vocal about the way he feels about you apart from the night he finally confesses to you. He rarely says mushy things because that's just not him. You were rendered speechless, you couldn't even move in his arms. When he looks down at you and titled your chin up so he can meet your gaze, you were met by a soft loving kiss.

"I'm sorry if I was being-" you start but he shushes you. "You don't ever have to apologize for what you're feeling Y/n. Not with me." A wave of fresh hot tears brim your eyes. How the hell did you get so lucky?

"Now, would ya promise me one thing?" he asks. You wet your lips and nodded. Bakugo holds you tighter against his body, his other hand coming up to touch the side of your face.

"Just let those fuckin' extras say or think whatever the hell they want and promise me," he stares at you sincerely, his fingers now grazing your bottom lip, "That all you'll ever care about starting from today is that," you watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows, "I'm all yours.. and you're mine."

A huge grin stretches your lips, in awe of how much this boy can make you adore him even more than you already do. Bakugo Katsuki is a lot of things. He can be a pain in the ass at times but God, when he loves you, he makes damn sure you know and feel it.

You held out your pinky to him once more, making the ash blonde chuckle and roll his eyes. He then links his with yours before smothering you with butterfly kisses all over your face.

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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“Bakugou and Tokoyami” 2019.01

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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All Might is officially his dad now right…

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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song prank text on 1A boys + tamaki + dabi & aizawa!

whew! some of these got steamy again my bad! my horny ass

shoto— your text by sundial

bkg— shes kinda hot by 5sos

izuwu— u da one by rihanna (LMAO MANS RLY SAID KESHA)

kiri— best part by her

kaminari— break up with ur gf by ariana grande

aizawa— guys my age by hey violet

tamaki— silly girl by chloe moriondo

dabi— emo boy by ayesha erotica (THIS ONE IS MY FAVORITE SKSHUSUDHD)

sero— cyber sex by doja cat

shinshoe— kraazy by likybo

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kitty-lunaz · 4 years

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The Adventures of Todd and Granny

(Alternatively: “I Saw Granny Ethel with the Devil”)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Yard Work

Of the many lessons instilled in him by Granny Ethel, the one that Todd knows best, is that good, hard, honest work keeps the devil at bay.

It’s only a saying. But he takes it to heart, if only to reassure himself that his brethren don’t know or care where he’s disappeared to for the past few months.

Really, they shouldn’t care. They’re often called away and sent on wayward tasks by superiors and skilled summoners alike. Sometimes for years.

Todd wouldn’t mind living like this for a decade, or two.

The Human Todd—Theodore—though, doesn’t seem to hold the same morals.

“Ugh—why won’t the damn thing just start?” he gripes at the old push lawn mower, rusted and peeling with age, as he yanks the motor’s rip cord for the third time in a row—unsuccessful. Not even a stutter. The heel of his shoe bounces off of its faded red deck with a dull, metallic thump as he tries to kick it into submission, but hitting machinery never inspires it to suddenly, magically work.

It isn’t that it doesn’t have gas—Todd has made sure it’s well taken care of in its old age and properly filled. It isn’t that it’s missing its grass-catcher bag, either. That’s another issue to be met further down the road.

Ultimately, it’s just Theodore’s poor luck and impatience. And a dirty carburetor, perhaps.

He’ll let him struggle obliviously for a few moments more—but only a few. Granny Ethel’s lawn is overgrown with a wily mass of green-yellow grass up to his shins, in desperate need of taming. But for now, he just shakes his head and minds his business at the stone-bordered garden on the other end of the lawn, getting his claws dirty pulling stray weeds from between herbs and taking notes on which ones need pruning.

More importantly, he only allows Theodore to swear so loudly because Granny Ethel is currently absent.

Their friend Sam from the grocery store kindly drove her to her routine check-up at the local clinic earlier that afternoon, though they probably would have walked if it wasn’t in the next town over.

Being who she is, he’s still a bit surprised they didn’t.

Another kick echoes off the metal body of the lawn mower—followed quickly by a strangled yell and the sound of something heavy—someone—hitting the grass with a sharp rustle. A soft landing.

Maybe he’s lucky after all.

Todd still ignores him, and pauses briefly to admire the ruby red glare of a ladybug landing on the back of his dark hand. Even as the swishing of disturbed grass only grows closer, until a distorted human shadow blocks the bright patch of sun reflecting off of the ladybug’s fragile shell.

Theodore clears his throat.

The ladybug’s wings unfurl in a flutter and it flits away, following the wind.

Again, he clears his throat to garner attention—and Todd ignores him. But he does keep him in the fringe of his peripheral vision.

“No help at all.” He huffs out an insulted breath as he stomps away, unkempt, sweaty blond hair flouncing with each step. It must be the hardest he’s worked out in ages, to get so worked up.

But Theodore doesn’t return to the lawn mower—this time he heads toward the far corner, to the small brown shed topped with a patchy, bright yellow roof. Unpainted, unfinished. It’s something Todd will take care of at an appropriate time. Granny Ethel’s birthday, perhaps…though she hasn’t mentioned it just yet.

The doors rattle as he gives them a shake—locked, naturally. He sets his hands on his hips and hangs his head in defeat. Bends down and almost collapses in the grass, ready to give up, but stops. Frozen, as if struck by inspiration. His head tilts dramatically as he peers toward something in the corner, resting in the shadows between the shed wall and the fence.

Todd has to admit, this interests him greatly—he turns his head to watch, but doesn’t move from his spot beside the herb garden.

Theodore straightens up and slinks toward the shadowed nook, reaching a hand out into the blackness. And when he draws it back, a scythe handle is gripped in his palm.

It’s dusty. Rusted and bent at the edges, probably dull—and complete with another hand grip protruding from the main rod like a functional tool. Made of old wood; reliable wood. Hand-carved. Theodore wheezes out a laugh of disbelief and quickly turns. Todd can’t turn around fast enough and catches the brunt of the victorious grin wrinkling his face. Knowing, and so triumphant. The absolute epitome of foolish Pride.

He doesn’t even know what he’s holding, certainly. Not with those pristine, clean hands that have only been pricked by a splinter today.

Todd rises to his feet, to his full height. There’s no need to heed ceilings—not outdoors. When he takes the first step, Theodore’s smile crumbles. He clutches the scythe to his chest and takes a step back, shoulders tense. He holds the eye contact just to spook him. Just a bit.

But he doesn’t walk to him. He reaches the lawn mower and kneels to pass a hand over its motor, clearing it of whatever issue remains.

Ah. Like he thought. It’s the carburetor.

He takes the rip cord in one hand and gives it a brisk yank—the motor stutters. Again, he pulls it, and the machine roars to life. Obedient, like a well-tamed beast.

Theodore’s strangled yelp of outrage satisfies the primal human vengeance he’s come to know as “pettiness.”

As the lawn mower idles, Theodore sets the scythe carelessly aside, dropped against the shed, and trudges through the tall grass toward it. He seizes it by the handle bar without sparing Todd a second glance even as he towers over him, still kneeling, thanks to the height of his spiraling horns.

Still, he doesn’t seem to know just how to operate the machine he snatched away. He pushes it forward, too rough—and jumps back with a start, cursing as the fresh-cut grass clippings pepper his navy-blue slacks in a rush of green.

But the beast has already been released, and as his fingers slip from the handlebar, it creeps its way forward without prompt and with surprising speed.

Straight into Granny Ethel’s beloved and flourishing lantanas.

Then right over them.

Both, speechless and stock still, stare at the vermillion whirl of shredded petals spit out in the lawn mower’s wake. Even as it bumps into the fence and tries to continue on, unaware—until it topples over and chokes itself out, blades whirring to a halt beneath its casing.

Just in time, too. In the distance, but not too far away, a car door slams shut. Swift and familiar, shuffling footsteps fast approach. The wooden side gate creaks open.

“We’re back at last, dears! I’m sure you’ve been working hard. Why don’t we take a break? I saw the most charming bakery on the way home and couldn’t help but—”

Something crashes against the cobblestone walkway. Soft—covered in a plastic bag. Bread. No, cinnamon buns. Todd can smell the sugary vanilla sweetness through the package. But he can’t quite turn to face Granny Ethel as a red hot glare fills his eyes, aimed only at Theodore.

But—no. It isn’t entirely the man’s fault.

It’s his, too, for playing a jealous, petty little game. Because he could have stopped the lawn mower and didn’t.

Sometimes, standing idly by is the worst sin of all.

Todd’s heart caves in as Granny Ethel breathes in and exhales, speechless, and presses her hands to her mouth when he turns to face her.

“Oh, my… The lantanas.”

Her eyes dart to the ruined mess of flowers and she takes a tiny step forward, over the fallen bag of sweet bread. Drops her hands from her mouth and holds them out in front of her as she ambles forward—and stops, a safe distance away from the destruction.

“Oh, my dudes, yikes,” Sam breathes, hissing in through his teeth and rubbing a brown hand across his frowning, pursed lips. “I, uh—I’ll go in and mix up some juice or something. You’ll need it.” He picks up the fallen bag of buns on the way.

Todd’s shoulders hunch as he very nearly curls in on himself in shame, wrapping his shawl tight around himself—because the heat never bothered him and it’s his it’s special and it was a gift from her and, somewhere deep down, he vows to never disappoint her, to hurt her, in such a way again. Ever.

Theodore, flushed deep red from neck to ears ever since his grandmother walked in, shuffles half-heartedly in front of the straight line of shredded lantanas, at least self-aware enough to realize he’d made a grave error. His hands knead roughly together, pale skin turning whiter from the pressure. Sweating, still, but not only from the summer heat.

“Gran, I…”

“Charles grew that patch for me.” Her soft poofs of cloud-white hair twist in the breeze as she closes her eyes and dips her head toward her chest, eyes closed. “Oh, they’ve been there ever since he planted them. Every single one.” She folds her hands in front of her loose, sunflower-yellow dress and shakes her head, saying no more on the subject.

“Oh my God. I’m so—Gran, I don’t… I didn’t mean to, it just… It wasn’t my fault!”

His frantic cry goes unheard by Granny Ethel as she stands with her head bowed in silence.

“There’s a silver lining, here, my dear.” When she looks up, her eyes shine behind her glasses, unshed tears catching sunlight, but her stare is hardened. And harsh.

Even with that small, tired smile, her fury is a cold-burning flame.

“You see, these particular flowers can live again. We will collect the undamaged stalks that are left and root them. Replant them. Then…” Her voice trails off into the silence of an unspoken thought. “For now, I’ll leave you two in peace to finish the yard work.”

Neither speaks a word, stuck in mortified silence, even as Granny Ethel disappears into the house.

The silence is only broken moments later when Sam makes his way back outside holding a tray filled with a glass pitched and three glasses, as well as a small pile of cookies. Peanut butter, of course.

But no sweet cinnamon buns.

“Here’s that drink! Lavender lemonade with honey—and Granny’s special peanut cookies,” he smiles, trying his best to keep up a positive atmosphere as he sits cross-legged on the lawn with the fine silver tray in his lap. “She helped put it together, dudes, so don’t forget to thank her later.”

Theodore scoffs and grumbles out, “I’m allergic to peanuts,” but Todd knows that isn’t true. He’s seen entire containers of peanut butter disappear overnight, at times. And Granny Ethel simply wouldn’t do something that selfish, so he’s the only suspect.

But if the man is going to be that way about it, then all the more treats for him and Sam. He drains one of the glasses in a single gulp and devours two of the delicious, crispy cookies, nodding in appreciation. Because it’s what Granny Ethel would want—and he’d rather die than let her hospitality go to waste. Her happiness always comes first.

He hopes she’s not crying.

“She’s busy crocheting something in the den, by the way. Humming, and everything. Boy, am I glad she’s not mad.” Sam also eats a cookie and speaks around the crunchy bits in his mouth, providing him with just the answer he sought. “But, man, that’s some gnarly garden carnage, there.” He nods his head toward the lantanas and whistles low. “Did you apologize?”

“Why would I?” Theodore snaps, arms crossed tight as he refuses to look at the flowers and their faces, still evident in his guilt by the way he answers so quickly. When no one gives him an immediate response, he breathes a theatrical sigh and clomps toward the fallen path of ruined flowers. Hands on his hips, now, he observes the mess. “Is any of this even salvageable? None of the stems look un-shredded!”

“You should apologize,” Sam insists lightly, taking another cookie when he finishes the first. He meets Todd’s eyes and they share a knowing glance. Then, his brown eyes light up. “Oh—and by the way, Granny’s appointment went great! She’s fit as a fiddle.”

By now, Theodore is squatting amongst the flower shreds, combing through the mess for anything that looks particularly helpful and root-able. “Of course she is. Her energy knows no bounds.”

Todd can only nod. Granny Ethel’s health is nigh infallible. But—that aside, it’s time to return to work. He finishes his cookies, brushes the crumbs off his palms and carefully makes his way to the flower patch to pick out the lantana stems they can still save.

There are few—but a few is better than none. And for the rest, they can grow from the seeds.

It will take some time to return Granny’s beloved lantana garden to its former glory, but not forever. And before they know it, this day will be nothing more than a mistake of the past.

So, they continue their yard work until the day’s chore is done.

The remaining lantanas: neat. The lawn: trimmed. The herb garden: weeded and pruned.

When the tools have been returned to their proper place, they leave the yard behind, and Todd gives one final, sweeping glance around the space as he slides the back door shut.

Something is out of place. He can’t quite pin down what, but later, when he curls up in his small twin bed and drifts to sleep in the room he shares with Theodore, he dreams of a rusted scythe that he can’t quite remember putting away—one that he promptly forgets when he wakes.

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