#I approached her dying of laughter and she hit me with the

[theblehthatbloos]

I'm currently loosing it because I walked into my mother's pantry and swear I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

Unsure and realizing that I don't recall what it is or could be, I walk back in to find:

Oh m-

[fangisms]

HEYY so I love your writing and have been stalking your account since yesterday 🤭 I checked and I saw ur request were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot and send a request but if you’re not interested it’s totally fine !!

I saw that you don’t have Harry on ur master list so idk if you take request for him? So I won’t request smth for him here but if you do write for him pls lmk !!

Ok now my actual request, can you write smth for Theodore Nott x fem!reader where reader is like tough and usually goes against the grain of what other people are doing and for once she decides to actually go to a party when a Some Guy starts hitting on her and she’s like obviously very not into it Theo confronts the guy and gets into a fight with him.

Like maybe they’ve known each other since they were young and when they got to hogwarts they grew apart bc they were in different houses but Theo has been like hardcore crushing on her for years lol. And like after he gets into the fight she cleans him up in the bathroom and is all like “you didn’t have to do that I can take care of myself” and he’s all like “yah I know” but feeling smug bc she’s blushing or smth and he’s all happy bc yah it’s been a while but maybe he still has a chance and doesn’t just have to watch her from afar forever 🤭

SORRY this is so long but I have been having Theo brain rot and this idea has been floating in my head for a couple days now

respectable fisticuffs

A/N: yk what i didn’t think i would but i WILL write for harry, send it in anon 🫂 also this request is so good pls gif cred: @possession

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Non-Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Battered and bruised, Theo misses you like hell and now seems like a great time to tell you. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, theo gets in a physical fight, unsolicited flirting, cursing, tw blood/wounds, kissing, lots of ‘bellissima’, soo much pining

"What's she doing here?" Mattheo welcomes Pansy with a kiss on the cheek, leering at you like he's amused by your presence.

"I convinced her to show up, so pretty please don't scare her away," Pansy coos, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing towards the couches.

"It’s a your lucky day," he huffs, guiding you towards the sound of drunken laughter and song. "I know someone who's dying to see you."

"Don't we all," you tease. By the looks of it, he's leading you into the belly of the beast—a group of Slytherin boys crowded around a brassy gramophone. "So, who exactly is dying to see me?"

"Don’t play dumb, sweetheart... you know who," he whispers before slinking off to find a drink.

"Mattheo!" you shout, "Coglione." Maybe you should hunt Pansy down. She's the one who forced you to come after all, she deserves to bear witness to your misery.

Theo had no idea you were coming. If he had, he might've tried a little harder to impress. You look just as beautiful as the last time you ignored him, and it's not helping his crush in the slightest. Over the years, he's grown a real talent for watching you from afar. Since the sorting hat took you away from him, it's all he can do any more, and suffice to say, he misses you like hell even now.

As he's mulling it over in his head, you glance over at him. He thinks your gaze will dart away like it always does while he take a drag of his cigarette. But you wave. You hold up your hand and wave. At him. And he nods back like some nonchalant idiot. He loves the way your eyes always seem to sparkle just before you look away.

Theo waits until you've visibly relaxed to approach you. And just as he's mustering up the courage to leave his chair, Graham Montague spills his drink down your shirt.

"Shit," Graham pants, stumbling forward and clasping onto your waist for dear life. He looks down at your top—or rather, down your top—and chuckles to himself. "Might actually be an improvement."

"You smell like piss," you say. He palms your shoulder and laughs, leaning closer to mumble low in your ear.

"Does that mean you like it?" His fingers flex against your collar bone and trail up the length of your neck. You want to vomit.

Just then, his body falls limp to the ground with a thud, and you gasp, turning to see Theo looming beside you.

"Theo!" you shout, but he gently sweeps you aside, falling to his knees and taking a fistful of Graham's soiled collar.

"Get off of me—ow, prick," Graham whines, clawing at Theo's shoulder and reaching to scratch at his face. Theo slams his back hard against the floorboards with a sharp inhale before landing a punch to his face. Graham lets out a yelp and whimpers when Theo stands above him. Theo presses his boot to the palm of Graham's hand.

"Go near her again, and you'll lose your hand entirely," Theo seethes. Mattheo finally yanks him away with a snicker, guiding him to the stairwell. But not before Theo shouts, "Mangia merde e morte."

"Alright, dickhead, I think you've made your point," Mattheo says, squeezing Theo's shoulders as his eyes zip back and forth wildly, looking any and everywhere he can.

"Where is she?"

"Calm down—"

"Mattheo, you know where she is. Tell me," he huffs. If it weren't for the haunted look in his eye, Mattheo would've kept his mouth shut. But he knows how bad his friend needs this. How bad he needs you.

"She's upstairs. Told her she could borrow our bathroom."

"Sei come un fratello per me, thank you," Theo whispers.

"Yeah, yeah," Mattheo says, "you owe me one." Theo leaves him a kiss on the cheek before taking the steps two at a time.

The light from the boys' bathroom seeps through the crack in the door. It's the only light in the whole dorm, and he can see your shadow as it crosses back and forth. He feels like he's out on the field before a championship game or about to take an exam he didn't study for. His hands feel weak when he reaches for the doorknob.

He presses his ear to the door before opening it any further. "May I come in?"

You shuffle around, and he hears you approach the door on tender foot. He can't take the way you open the door and stand back like you're faced with some predator. He hasn't spoken to you in so long, all he wants is to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Theo?" you say, shutting the door behind him as he goes to sit on the closed toilet seat.

"Don't say that," he says, carding his fingers through his hair. He groans at the pain shooting up his fingers.

You look over him softly. Subtly, so he won't notice, but he's gotten good at noticing you.

"Are you hurt?"

He looks at his knuckles, sprinkled with blood, and feels for the scrape on his cheek.

"No—"

He doesn't have time to explain himself before you're kneeling at his side, dabbing a cold towel against his jaw and tilting his chin up.

"It's worse than you think, Theo," you hum, pressing the damp cloth to the column of his neck as he swallows.

"It's nothing I can't handle."

"You idiot," you say. He hisses when you hold his jaw and turn his head, wiping the shallow gash on his cheek. Most of the blood is not his, which is a good sign. That doesn't stop you from wanting to yell at him, though. He can tell with the way you're frowning as you wet the dried blood on his warm skin.

"I had it under control, you know,” you say.

He can't help but smile at your determination. He always admired that about you. Too stubborn for your own good. And his.

"I know."

Your eyes drift across his brow, narrowly avoiding the eye contact he so craves. He drinks in the curve of your lashes, the sweetness of your cheek, the way your thigh is pushed against his knee.

"He was harmless. And drunk. And you should’ve known better."

"I know," he huffs. You toss the pink-tinged towel into the bowl of the sink.

"We're not kids anymore, I don't need you to protect me." You stay knelt at his feet, focused on your knees digging into the cold tile. It makes you sad to think about you and him like this. You used to be friends. Best friends, in fact, the kind of friends adults would say were 'joined at the hip'. You used to cry over being sorted into different houses, but you got over it. That's life. You figured he moved on and so should you. Maybe neither of you moved on in the end.

"Look at me." His voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you meet his soft green eyes.

"Bellissima..."

"You are such an idiot," you huff. Theo looks down at you like he's been waiting to all his life. Like he's been cursing that very first day since it happened.

"I miss you," he coos, fingers twitching where they're rested on his knees. "I miss having you close to me."

"That's not fair."

"Not fair?"

You look away. "No."

"How?"

Oh, and you hate the way he smiles when he knows he's about to get what he wants. He knows exactly how to get you flustered. That's exactly why he was your first kiss. And your second.

"Come on, bellissima... tell me you miss me," he whispers, leaning his elbows onto his knees to be closer to you. To have his nose brush the tip of your own. He craves the shape of your mouth now more than ever.

Then you look at him. Him and his dastardly grin, how the charm pours out of him in gobs. The hair sweeping across his forehead and how you always catch him looking at you how he is now. Innocent and longing. Like you’re beautiful. Like you’re his again.

“Of course I miss you,” you sob, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, “I miss you, Theo.”

“Oh, bella,” he says, fitting himself into your arms, knees pressed to either side of your own as he slides to the floor. You shudder against his body, and he holds you tighter. “I never want to be without you.”

You pull away just to look at him, his face, the way time has changed him. He has his hands on your waist when you lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he waits for another. You swipe your thumb where you’d just pressed your lips, and you kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiles, eyes still gently shut as he manouvres his fingertips to the curve of your bottom lip. And you kiss him.

masterlist

[uchispeach]

Crazy Over You (One-shot)

Pairing: Dark! Reader x Dark! Rafe

➥ Warnings: Explicit sexual content, rough sex, violence, death, toxic relationship, dark! reader…

➥ Main Masterlist

“Would you kill for me?” The blond looked at you through his sharp eyes, a cloud of smoke appearing around him as he gave your shared joint another drag.

You laid on your back, eyes on him as you admired his rough features under the fluorescent light.

At the lack of reply, the back of his palm impacted against your stomach. “Answer me” You barely registered the hit, too enticed with his presence.

“I guess” You giggled, grabbing your chest as if it was about to explode.

The whole situation felt like a fever dream, mind too faded to scrutinize everything that came out of your mouth. “Yeah, without a doubt” You reaffirmed lazily, reaching out for Rafe’s face.

You gave his cheek a light squeeze before letting out a lighthearted chuckle. The Cameron boy found it contagious, chest rumbling in uncontrollable laughter.

(…)

You weren’t lying. You wished you were, but you weren’t; and the pained moans from a dying woman were there to prove it.

The now empty gun slipped from your frail grip, bouncing a few times before finally laying a few meters beside you.

“Y/N!” Your boyfriend raised his voice while approaching you with heavy steps. Still, you remained frozen -no reaction as Rafe continued to call out for you-.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You could see him waving his arms right in front of you, cursing under his breath as he went back and forth.

“Huh?” His strong palms held onto your shoulders, weighing you down as he shook you violently. Your body moved in an aggressive motion, but your brain continued to go at a slow pace.

“I had no choice” Your whisper was barely audible. Wide eyes focused on the specks of blood on the floor. “I had no choice” This time the words came out in a rush.

“Rafe, I had to do it…” Hands touched his broad shoulders, an action made to reciprocate him. “She…She was going to kill you” You finally faced him, blown pupils looking straight at him.

The Cameron boy seemed disturbed, brows furrowed in a deep scowl. Strands of dirty blond were all over his front, covering his face.

Your delicate fingers reached out for his frame, getting between his hair and pulling softly at it. Once it was cleared, you squeezed his cheeks together while getting extremely close.

Your warm breath hit his lips as you opened your mouth once again, “I saved you” without noticing straight away, tears started falling out -soaking your skin-.

His breathing became faster and heavier while he put his hands above yours, gripping them tightly, so tightly it hurt.

“Fuck!” He spat out, getting rid of your hold as he made his way towards the corpse.

Mrs. Limbrey’s cold body rested peacefully, the revolver still in her bony digits.

Rafe groaned in frustration as he carried the old lady on his back, kicking the weapon to the side before throwing her mindlessly in the truck’s cargo bed.

Your lover turned his back on you as he frantically closed the padlock. The movement was fast, but not fast enough for you to not catch a glimpse of the other dead body.

Carla and his brother were now resting in peace on the back of the vehicle, alongside the gold cross.

That damned cross. The relic’s value wasn’t totally on the monetary side, it also relied on the rotting greeed it caused in everyone who set their eyes on it.

You had seen it, the blond had become fixated on bringing it home and calling it his. Even dragging you with him in his exhausting search.

You followed him because you trusted him wholeheartedly; the Limbrey siblings on the other hand, you had suspected them since the first encounter.

When strong arms wrapped around your waist, you barely reacted; allowing the blond to push you against a metal door.

“Hey” He looked for your gaze, unsuccessfully. “Hey!” The screaming went accompanied by a slap to the face.

The sting came later than it should have, cheek starting to bloat at Rafe’s harsh methods.

All you did was flinch, no real defense put up against him.

“We’re gonna get on that damn car and I’ll drive us to the swamp” Violence had slightly pulled you out from the initial state of shock, so you nodded. “I need you to act fucking normal” He shook you against his arms, sort of allowing you the comfort of his chest’s warmth.

You nodded frantically, wanting to comply in hopes of a better treatment. Not long after, you wiped away any residue of your tears.

With a blurred vision, you saw your boyfriend moving to the side while opening the door for you. A sneer was your only warning before you were shoved into the passenger's seat.

The sound of your nape hitting the seat was alarmingly loud. Still, all you could think of was the clear annoyance that reflected on the boy’s face.

(…)

Getting rid of the bodies wasn’t as difficult as you thought, all Rafe had to do was throw both of them into the cloudy water and wait for the crocodiles to do the rest of the job.

No more than a couple of minutes have passed when they were completely devoured. So, you couldn’t quite understand why the Cameron boy continued to look exasperated.

“It’s over” You tried to reassure him with a hand on his forearm, but he remained stoic, gripping the steering wheel with an unhealthy force.

“Rafe, we have the cross…nothing else matters” You whispered sweetly into his ear, leaning towards his side; the blond didn’t appreciate that, because mere seconds after you pronounced those words, you felt the truck giving a violent turn.

“Rafe!” Your body bounced against the door, a pained gasp left your lips at the last impact.

You felt a slight ringing on your ears as the vehicle completely stopped. You tried to incorporate, looking at your surroundings before being held back by a brute force.

“Ra-” You were interrupted by a harsh squeeze. “Shut up!” Rafe’s eyes were dark, a kind of darkness you’ve never seen on them.

His rings buried themselves on your soft skin. He shook you by the neck, a series of muffled whimpers barely leaving your throat.

“You fucked us!” He spat on your teary face. “Shit!” The blond’s frustrated scream had been almost drowned by the overwhelming sound of the horn.

His knuckles looked all red and bloodied now, still, the aggressiveness didn’t cease.

Your lungs burned in desperation while you put your smaller hands on his, dragging your nails along his skin. “Please” your voice was barely audible.

“You killed a Limbrey…we’re screwed” Your boyfriend was now all over your face, sweat on his forehead as he slightly shook in rage.

He cursed you out when a particular deep scratch was given. The burning sensation of open cuts made him retreat, allowing you to free from his lethal hold.

The coughing was uncontrollable as you massaged your bruising throat Still, you managed to speak in between coughs “She was pointing a gun at you” Your voice was deeply hoarse.

“I fucking saved your life!” Your neck stung as you lifted it up, looking at the blond behind your messy hair.

Rafe stayed back as he saw you crawling towards him. Cold palms positioned on his hard chest. Your eyes held a pleading eagerness on them.

The blond didn’t react when your trembling lips covered his stiff ones, neither when your breasts rubbed slowly against the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you…” A sweet whisper in between dainty pecks. Your hands roamed from his clavicle to his abdomen, stroking in constant circles just as he liked.

His eyes scanned over your frame in growing temptation. Either way, he held back -grabbing both of your wrists to stop them from wandering around-.

Ignoring the burning sensation of his grip, you begged in a sultry voice. “We’ll figure it out…together”

You pushed back, shoving your face onto Rafe in a heated kiss. Your mouth moved impatiently against his, hips bucking rhythmically in hopes of creating a pleasurable friction.

You could feel him growing under his expensive pants. At the same time, his breathing became messier.

You recognized the containment on his voice when he groaned at a particular deep thrust.

Even though you dragged your head back in search of oxygen, a line of saliva still connected both of your mouths.

“Relax” You twisted your wrists, little whines protesting to be set free. Rafe complied, licking his lower lip when dropping your arms around his nape.

Your fingers intertwined with his silky hair, pulling aggressively at it to get extensive access to his neck. A trail of wet kisses was left from his chin to his chest; you made sure you lick his sensitive spots, warm tongue making small circles on the exposed skin.

His hips became alive, crashing against yours in order to appease the boiling need on the pit of his stomach. You continued sucking on that specific spot that had him hoarsely groaning.

It didn’t take long before he reached out information his best, slowing down your brutal pace in order to free the tent on his pants. You stood still for some torturous seconds, pupils blown as you saw him taking out his lengthy shaft.

Now out of its confinements, the boy’s cock stood proudly at your button belly’s height. You were quick to wrap your hand around it, giving it a few slow strokes before finding a continuous pace.

One hand on his groin and the other in his shirt as you made a painful hickey right above his clavicle. Your tongue moved expertly until it was interrupted by a mean grip.

Rafe’s eager fingers had your jaw stinging with a harsh squeeze. He basically forced you away, just to pull you immediately back with a bite to your plump lip.

He dragged his tongue above the open cut, making you taste it as he shoved the wet muscle inside your mouth.

The blond couldn’t resist tugging your hair, finding satisfaction in the way your jaw opened wider at the hurt gasps.

His free arm got lost under your jeans, dragging his hand to cup your sex. You moaned sweetly at the feel of his freezing palm in contact with your wam entrance.

Rafe smirked while rubbing a digit between your wet folds. “This pussy’s all mine” You nodded, mind already dizzy by the blond’s consuming heat.

Keenness got the best of you as you clumsily undid your jeans; the blond helped you to get rid of them, practically tearing them from you before throwing them carelessly to the back.

You were about to take your underwear off, but the Cameron boy was ahead of you. A loud snap had you flinching, surprised to see a shredded piece of lace landing on the passenger’s seat.

The cold breeze made your nipples harden under your blouse. Your boyfriend seemed to notice it, forcing the piece of clothing out of your body.

His eyes darkened in hungry anticipation, eyeing your perky mounds with pure lust.

His teeth felt overwhelmingly good when they sinked on your breasts. Lovely redness covered your entire chest after a couple minutes of rough treatment.

The blond was unstoppable, viewing your flesh as a blank canvas he was entitled to paint.

Your whines and cries sent him into a state of frenzy -yearning to taste more of you-.

“Fuck me already…shit!” You jumped at a particular rough bite. He simply chuckled, lifting you by the hips to comply with your desperate request.

His veiny hand stroked his erection; thick cock shining with pre-cum. His tip got close to your entrance, not before collecting some of your juices.

His mouth opened in delight when you started sinking yourself down on his dick. Your gummy walls squeezed tightly around him.

You went slow, mindful of the stinging stretch. Eventually, the blond got too impatient, pushing you down in a swift move.

You cursed under your breath, feeling him deep in your guts. Rafe didn’t give you a break, encouraging you to ride the pain away.

(…)

Your knees were in constant friction with his strong

thighs as you swayed your hips with aggressiveness.

The horn was a background noise at this point, your main focus being the squelching of your cunt as Rafe met your thrusts.

You had been at it for a while, the sweat on your foreheads a proof of it.

A knot tightened on the pit of your stomach, begging to come undone. You could tell Rafe was feeling the same, as his movements got sloppier.

You grinded on him way slower this time, too overstimulated from previous releases.

The blond breathed heavily onto your ear, burying his fingers deep into your waist as you lazily rode him. A few more strokes was all it took for you to reach your peak -moaning shamelessly when you felt your wetness releasing all over the boy-.

“I-I love y-you” you struggled to say, still agitated by Rafe’s incessant pace. “Fuck!” He finally stopped -head thrown back as he felt himself becoming undone-.

You felt a hot liquid filling you up, thick splurts being released in the deepest parts of your womb. “You…” The Cameron boy had a hard time speaking while simultaneously climaxing, still, he finished his sentence, “you are fucking crazy, Y/N.”

A/N: I wanted to build more tension but my horny ass didn’t have enough patience. Anyways, let me know if you liked it! 🤍

[proboblynotstriaght]

episode 41 screenshots

fear

spoilers beneath the cut

To lighten up the fact that all my mutuals wished me luck to get through this episode sane-

Andy in Gideons voise : Well shucks howdy, nice job little green!

As the bean footage begins to roll

"I use the knife for picking locks, Kremy uses it for charcuterie boards" "It's nicly shared"

"You think I wear a silk hat?" how do I find them everywhere

"I hate to break this to you man but your hat can crack, it just did, I think. I believe it very strongly" "Alright well, I don't so why don't you go ahead and open it up"

"I will store this gentleman's hat in a box of rocks! That will show him!"

It's not a funny episode if Andy doesn't beat up Mike at least once and Mace turns red from laughter

"Oh God is he dead, Gid go check if he's dead"

Andy banged his head against the table to increase the immersion, much to Derek's approval and everyone else's entertainment

"The other guy is not going to speak because I don't want to do two voices at once" *various shushing noises*

"T-torbek is dieing, Torbeks final wish is to see Gideon fancy knife" "Shh shh be quite I'm trying to speak with Kremy and Gideon"

"Look Gid if he's dying- you used that knife like, twice in 41 episodes?" "Torbek you Die"

Mace quietly: this chest is my bitch. Nikkie : What did you say? Mace : Nothing, I'm so sorry, please don't dread me

Gricko : "Oh Torbek re you okay? You need to drink something- oh I'm out of water" I pick up the pot (it's full of Bavlornas bathwater)

"The water is chunky and unpleasant" "just like Torbeks used to "

"Oh she uses that one to wipe!" "Uhh Torbeks not a doctor but that's probably not good"

"The game kills Torbek with syphilis" "You have died of dysentery"

"Ask her is she snores in her sleep" "DO you snore in your sleep?" "No not her Bavlorna" "You got to be more specific"

"Well, the only person who could answer any of our questions about the plot I threw right out the window"

"If you hit another clown we are so dead" "You know what, yeah!"

RP prompt, pretend to be the clown Gideon is about to accidently kill. Again

These guy are all fucking clowns/affectionate

"No right there you can see the ticket says Is-old"

"Ah my black and broken heart"

"I also found this marionette doll"

"Get It, I'm mister moony" "Oh yeah Torbek can do that too!" "NONONONNONONO"

You know with all the horror i've been told about this episode I didn't expect to get so many screenshots, Part 2 is one the way but school is fast approaching for me so it might take me a while to make anything.

Edit: Part 2 is here!

[dearmura]

HERE'S ME ASKING!! ok have u though abt bf!riki x reader where they are buying stuff at the supermarket and it ends up in ✨️ chaos ✨️

"no riki omg this soap is literally the best!!"

"ew it smells like trash, we're buying this one!!"

"pls i hate u"

just something rlly fluffy/crack <3

behave

☆ cw. some cursing, they bicker/threaten each other A LOT, period jokes, reader is referred to using she/her pronouns, not proofread

☆ pairings. bf! riki × fem! reader

☆ genre. fluff, crack, established relationship

☆ author's note: sort of a drabble ig???

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

with a ring of the bell just above the door, you sigh to yourself, hearing feet shuffle just behind you. swiftly turning around before you fully enter the store, you give the boy a stern look

"ki, I swear to God, if you don't behave yourself I'll literally force you into that child compartment at the front of the shopping cart. don't, I repeat DON'T, try anything" you warn, pointing an accusing finger at the boy who only gives you a feigned innocent expression you see right through. someone on the outside looking in would think your attitude towards the boy would only resemble a mom scolding her son when you were in fact his girlfriend who desperately wanted to shop without being publicly embarrassed by the boy's shenanigans

slumping his shoulders in defeat, the boy nods solelmy, paralleling a child after being scolded. sticking to your side like a wad of gum, you two continue on your merry way. though, knowing the boy, you knew this promise would be broken within 5 minutes tops. you even consider timing it but decide against it, knowing it would only encourage the boy further

"oooo angel angel, look at how big this watermelon is" he points with wide eyes like a child on Christmas morning, giving you an expectant look which you only laugh at

"ya, ki, if you put salt on that watermelon I'm actually disowning you" you tease as he places it in the cart, only resulting in him blowing a raspberry in your direction. you playfully hit his shoulder, and he dramatically gasps, falling onto the floor like he was in a telenovela

"riki, I swear to God, get up from there! you're already embarrassing us" you whisper shout, hiding your amusement at his pure stupidity

he fakes a cry, holding the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically as he takes little peeks to see if you're still looking, making you roll your eyes

"how could you. your boyfriend is dying here and you call me an embarrassment" he scolds, gasping dramatically once more, sticking out his tongue to fake his death. pointing to the shelves right above him, you almost burst into a fit of laughter at what you see, a whole section filled to the absolutely brim with kuromi bandaids along with other sanrio characters. sighing in feigned annoyance, you grab a box, successfully 'healing' the boy enough to bring him back up to his feet

"you're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"and you haven't broken up with me yet. who's the real dummy now?" he states innocently, blowing a kiss in your direction before scanning the aisles once more, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded

✧

"ooo ki smell this soap, it's so good" you take a whiff with a sigh, in heaven by the soothing smell. the boy approaches you and takes a sniff of his own only to fake a gag

"that smells like ass" he says plugging his nose, swatting the air with a grimace dramatically, making you roll your eyes

"how would you know what that smells like" you retort, making him click his tongue at your attitude. you only wink and blow him a kiss just as he did you. you knew he secretly found your attitude insanely attractive so you only smile to yourself when you see him go silent

the boy was wrapped around your finger and he knew it

✧

"oh my gosh!! look look! it's a little coffee filter for dolls!! how cute~" he coos at a package of bright pink "coffee filters." when you finally approach him and see what he's referring to, you laugh, caressing the boy's cheek as you place a gentle kiss on his lips at his pure innocence

"oh my sweet, pretty boy those are menstrual cups" you coo at him like a child, throwing your head back in amusement when his smile drops and eyes widen at your words, a blush creeping up on his cheeks from embarrassment

"y-you mean that you put that up your..." he pauses in pure shock, looking like he's seen a ghost, only making you laugh more. dramatically holding you in fear, he takes your hand to cover his eyes, terrified of the feminine products before him. about to take one to restock for yourself, he holds your arm back, shaking his head quickly

"would you like me to bleed all over our bed next month" you say with a smile way too sweet for your words. suddenly switching up at your words, he searches the aisle

"do you prefer pads, tampons, cups..." he asks with a scared smile

✧

grocery list in hand, you scan the shelves searching for items as you check off ones already in the cart. switching places with the boy so you could actually get stuff done, he was now in charge of rolling the cart (essentially just sitting there and looking pretty cuz he wasn't gonna help anyways)

you knew immediately he would take advantage of the power, which he did. walking peacefully, trying to go about your day, you feel a sudden pain in your calf, making you hiss in pain. looking back at the culprit, you see a smiley riki holding the cart innocently as if he didn't just ram the cart into your leg

scoffing, you slip your sandal off of your foot and hold it up in the air before you start walking toward the boy

"you're really gonna get it now, nishimura"

he was lucky you loved him

[stcpidcupid]

⩩♡⃗ ⠀⠀⠀ STUPID CUPID ⠀:⠀ CANDY SALAD TRAUMA DUMP ! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ — ib. @bluwavez / i had no idea this even existed until i saw your post </3

disc. this post mentions drugs, cheating, hospital, abusive grandma & parents, death & blood, being outed out. if i missed something, please let me know!

The video opens to an empty bowl placed innocently on the counter. Behind the camera, you can already hear giggling as Cheska walks into view, proudly holding a bag of her chosen candy. "Okay," she starts but breaks into chuckles, "My name is Cheska, and when I was younger, my dad sold my dog without telling me because he needed money for food."

There’s a short 'Oh!' behind the camera. Cheska continues smiling and dumps the candy into the bowl. "I bought Mini Psychedelic Jawbreakers!"

She walks away, and Aimee steps into view, still looking towards where Cheska exited. "I'm Aimee, and um, when I was five years old, my parents divorced and fought for me. My mother won but then practically abandoned me the moment I started school because, apparently, drugs were more important to her." She shrugs, showing a bag of Sour Patch Kids Extreme before pouring the contents into the bowl and mixing them with Cheska's.

After she leaves, there’s a brief pause as the girls try not to react behind the camera. The video shakes a little as the person behind the camera switches with someone else, and Tomie jumps into view, tilting her head. "This is Tomie, and when I was younger, my dad ruined my acting career after he was arrested. I was only fourteen and hated by literally everyone for something that I had no part in," she shrugs.

"Oh, and I brought Starburst!" Tomie says as she pours the packet. She hesitates, raises her hand, and points her middle finger before scratching her nose. Someone squeals behind the camera, and Tomie bitterly smiles as she walks away. The video shakes again as she grabs the phone again.

Looking confused, Jeanne slowly walks into the frame, holding a bag of Sour Gummy Worms. She stands there silently for three seconds before the camera cuts to a new scene where she introduces herself. "I'm Jeanne of Stupid Cupid, and when I lived in France, my grandmother would hit me if I didn't live up to her expectations, but nothing was ever good enough for her." She dumps the bag of candies into the bowl, adding fuel to the burning fire, "On her deathbed, she told me she was sick because of me, so I said I'm happy she's dying."

Gobsmacked, the rest of the girls quiet down, torn between staying silent or commenting. Aimee randomly remarks, "Damn, nothing will top this now," and Jeanne genuinely smiles at this. The tense situation breaks, and the other members laugh as Viva approaches the bowl quickly.

"I'm Viva, and when I told my mom I wanted to be an idol, she kicked me out of the house, so I had to live with my grandparents. I also brought Candy Sticks!" She throws a peace sign and walks away.

Cheska reappears, holding a different bag of candies. "Cheska again, and when I was younger, I ran away from home because I thought I was the reason my family was poor. A police officer found me sitting in a park two days later." She covers her mouth and laughs as if she didn't just say something severe, then dips the bag of Skittles. Waving to the camera, she moves back to her previous place, and Aimee takes her place in front of the almost full bowl.

"I'm Aimee, and when my ex cheated on me, I went and fucked his older brother. Both of them had small dicks anyway," she casually adds, eliciting loud laughs from the other members. After the laughter calms down, she shows her second candy. "I also brought Haribo's gummy bears." She takes a piece from the bag before pouring the rest into the bowl, shaking the last two pieces stuck to the bottom.

"It's Tomie, and my childhood went into raising my younger brother because my mom went crazy and had to be admitted to a hospital. My older sister refused to help until I left to be an idol," she quickly says after appearing in front of the camera, looking slightly angry. "I never forgave them for that," she adds, proudly showing a bag of Twirls.

There's a faint 'Do I have to do this one?' heard off-camera, and Tomie nods, ushering Viva into her place. The younger girl doesn't look as amused as before and quickly holds up a bag of Jolly Ranchers. "Um, I once came out to my ex-best friend and told her I'm attracted to females. She betrayed me by outing me to the whole school after promising she would keep it a secret." Tomie's hand appears, patting Viva on her shoulder before pulling her closer and away from the camera.

Jeanne returns with a Laffy Taffy bag. The girls decided to make her the last person to share. She is noticeably paler than before. "Um, I'm Jeanne, and, um, I witnessed someone else brutally die right in front of me. I don't want to remember how, but blood was everywhere." This statement is met with silence. Once again, Aimee breaks the tension, "Well, looks like Jeanne won this."

The other girls nervously laugh, and the video ends with Jeanne innocently waving as the camera points down to the bowl.

[ginnsbaker]

Maybe You Were The Ocean

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

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

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by @gingiesworld:

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

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

Masterlist

-

Now

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

That something being a wedding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything,” you reply without hesitation.

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

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

Then

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now

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

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

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

You merely smile politely in response.

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

“The bride,” you reply.

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

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

Then

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now

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

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

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

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

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

Then

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How's Pietro?” you asked tentatively.

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

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

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

Wanda nodded with understanding, but remained silent.

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

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

-

You waited a total of three days to call Wanda.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now

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

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

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

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

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

Then

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

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

But you didn’t care. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed softly. “What penguin?”

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

“Sounds like a classy penguin,” you teased.

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda Maximoff. 

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” she asks.

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

Then

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

“How did you two get so close?”

“Did I never tell you about that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda hummed, her eyes flitting restlessly around you.

“What is it?”

Wanda shrugged. “Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I love you.”

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

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

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

Now

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

It’s just Wanda, you tell yourself.

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

Then

The call came unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

-

You and Pietro made it to the hospital.

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

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

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

-

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

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

That choice haunted you daily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now

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

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

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

She looks so different, yet so achingly familiar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve?”

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda takes a deep breath, releasing it shakily. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[30somethingautisticteacher]

The Perfect Honeymoon

***

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the 118 family BBQ in full swing. The air was filled with laughter, the sizzle of the grill, and the comfortable chatter of friends who had become family.

Maddie approached Tommy, who was nursing a beer and watching Buck animatedly describe something to Eddie and Christopher.

"How's wedding planning going?" Maddie asked, a knowing smile on her face.

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "It's... a lot. Evan has been a little intense. He has this idea that everything needs to be perfect."

Maddie nodded sympathetically. "That sounds like my brother."

Tommy's expression softened as he gazed at Buck. "Honestly, as long as by the end of the night he's my husband, it will be perfect."

Maddie squeezed Tommy's arm affectionately. "That's really sweet, Tommy."

Tommy turned back to Maddie, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I actually need some help from you guys, though. I got Evan to put me in charge of something for the wedding."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Maddie asked, intrigued.

"The honeymoon," Tommy said, a wide smile spreading across his face.

Maddie's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Buck actually agreed to let someone else plan something?"

Tommy nodded, looking proud of himself. "It took some convincing, but I managed to persuade him. Now, I want to make it really special for him."

"That's great, Tommy," Maddie beamed. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know," Tommy said, running a hand through his hair. "Evan loves the beach, so I thought Hawaii? But Paris is like the quintessential honeymoon location. But I want something that feels like us too, you know?"

The group around Tommy nodded understandingly. Maddie looked thoughtful, while Hen and Karen exchanged glances.

"Has he ever mentioned like a travel bucket list?" Karen asked, leaning in.

Tommy's brow furrowed as he tried to recall. "I'm not sure. He talks about traveling a lot, but I can't remember if he's ever mentioned specific places he's dying to go."

Maddie chimed in, "Knowing my brother, he probably has a whole Pinterest board dedicated to dream vacations."

Chim laughed, "Oh, definitely. Buckaroo's probably got it color-coded and everything."

Tommy's eyes lit up. "That's actually a great idea. I could try to sneak a peek at his Pinterest or maybe casually bring up dream destinations in conversation."

"Or," Eddie suggested, joining the group, "you could combine a few ideas. Start with a classic beach destination for relaxation, then hit up a city for some adventure and culture."

Bobby nodded approvingly. "That's smart. Give Buck a bit of everything he loves."

"And make sure there are plenty of activities," Athena added. "You know our boy can't sit still for too long."

Tommy smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude for this family that had embraced him so fully. "These are all great ideas, guys. Thank you."

"Just remember," Maddie said softly, placing a hand on Tommy's arm, "no matter where you go, Buck will love it because he's with you."

Tommy nodded, his gaze drifting back to Buck. "You're right. I just want to make it special for him."

"It will be," Karen assured him. "Because you're putting so much thought into it."

As the group continued to brainstorm ideas, the excitement for Buck and Tommy's upcoming wedding - and honeymoon - was clear. It was evident that no matter where they ended up going, the couple would have the full support and love of their 118 family behind them.

As the group was deep in discussion, they didn't notice Buck approaching until he spoke up.

"What are we talking about?" Buck asked, his curiosity evident in his voice.

The group fell silent for a moment, exchanging quick glances. Tommy, ever quick on his feet, smoothly responded.

"Oh, just sharing some old travel stories," he said, wrapping an arm around Buck's waist. "Karen was just telling us about this amazing beach she and Hen visited in Hawaii."

Hen, catching on quickly, nodded. "Yeah, it was stunning. Got me thinking about all the places I'd still love to see."

Buck's eyes lit up. "Oh man, there are so many places I want to visit someday.

Tommy tried to hide his excitement at this perfect opening. "What's at the top of your list?"

Buck's eyes sparkled with excitement as he started sharing his travel dreams. "Well, I know I want to go to Italy someday so you can see where your Nonna grew up," he said, squeezing Tommy's hand. "And I'd love to take you to London to do the Love Actually tour, babe."

Tommy felt a wave of affection wash over him at Buck's thoughtfulness. As Buck continued, the group exchanged touched glances, realizing the pattern in his choices.

"Oh, and we definitely need to visit Korea to see where Chim grew up," Buck continued enthusiastically. "And Iceland because of Bobby's amazing stories about the Northern Lights there."

Chim and Bobby both looked surprised and moved by Buck's memory of their connections to these places.

"Don't forget Greece," Buck added, turning to Karen. "I remember you mentioning how much you loved it there."

Karen's eyes widened in surprise. "You remembered that?"

Buck shrugged, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Of course. It sounded amazing when you described it."

The group fell silent for a moment, all touched by the realization that Buck's dream destinations were all tied to the people he cared about. His travel bucket list wasn't just about places he wanted to see, but experiences he wanted to share with his loved ones.

Buck's enthusiasm didn't wane as he continued, "And Hen's always wanted to go to Australia, right? It would be so cool to see the Great Barrier Reef and maybe hold a koala!"

Hen nodded, a warm smile on her face. "I can't believe you remembered that, Buckaroo."

"Oh, and Maddie has always wanted to try real Belgian chocolate," Buck added, turning to his sister with a grin.

Maddie laughed, shaking her head in amazement. "Evan, I mentioned that once, like, five years ago. How do you even remember these things?"

Buck shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed by all the attention. "I don't know. I just... I like remembering what's important to you guys."

The group fell silent again, each person touched by Buck's thoughtfulness and his ability to recall such specific details about their dreams and interests.

Tommy squeezed Buck's hand, his heart overflowing with love for this man who cared so deeply about everyone around him. He caught Maddie's eye, and she gave him a subtle nod, both of them recognizing the beautiful challenge this presented for planning the honeymoon.

Bobby cleared his throat, his voice gruff with emotion. "You know, Buck, that's a pretty amazing quality you have there. Not everyone pays such close attention to what matters to others."

Buck ducked his head, clearly touched by Bobby's words. "You guys are my family. Of course I pay attention."

Tommy's mind was working overtime. He now had the task of planning a honeymoon that would reflect Buck's caring nature while still making it a special, intimate trip for just the two of them.

It would be a challenge, but as Tommy watched Buck laughing and chatting with their family, he knew he'd find a way to make it perfect. After all, that's what Buck deserved - a honeymoon as thoughtful and loving as he was.

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶 This city’s dying by the day, and you know it always will 🎶

Antoine kept his head dipped and his face hidden as he neared the spot where Giorgio had asked him to meet. The secrecy in Gio’s note had been absurd: Meet me at the docks facing the cathedral at eight. And come alone. As he approached, the rhythmic ringing of the church bells told him that he was just on time.

Antoine’s steps crossed from the cracked pavers onto the wooden dock, the hollow sound alerting Giorgio to his presence. He jumped to his feet and nervously took a drag off his cigarette, smoothing down his hair behind each ear. Antoine rounded the crates that he was hidden behind and narrowed his eyes, “Christ, Gio, what’s going on? What’s with all this fanfare and secrecy?”

“Antoine, thank god. To tell you the truth, it’s Jo. She never takes my ideas seriously and I’m sure she’d tell me I’m operating on false information. Plus I don’t want to create a stir, tip off my contacts that I’m sharing this information with anyone on the outside. Sit, please. I think you might need to.”

Giorgio sat back onto the crate next to Antoine, looking over each shoulder before he began, “I’ve got cousins, Antoine, cousins with real business interests up in New York. There’s serious talk that this whole bubble we’ve been riding, it can’t last forever, and the whole economy is gunna tank.”

Antoine shook his head in disbelief, but Gio went on, “I’m telling you, it’s true! Some of them are already pulling out stocks. Your sister will think I’m just as crazy, but I sure as hell don’t wanna be in any city when shit hits the fan. Especially this city. You see, I know I said one job, but once they get their teeth into you, once they know where you are, they don’t let you stop…”

Gio stopped for a moment to let the implication of he and Antoine’s entanglement with the city’s mafia dissipate in the twilight air, “Now I’ve heard talk of riches out west. Railroads or highways being built right through your property and being paid in handfuls. Plus land is cheap, real cheap. I found a plot through some connections with the farm house built. I’ve still got that money from the deal we made, so I can purchase it myself, but if you’re holding onto that cash we can split it equal, go in as co-owners.”

Gio’s proposal made Antoine’s head spin. Leave his home? To go West, of all places? What the hell did he know about the West? About a land he had only heard tales and hyperboles of, a land that seemed unreal, one that still seemed to promise some semblance of the American Dream…

As Antoine tried to focus, to force himself see his choices clearly, a series of images flashed through his head in immediate succession.

First, he saw himself atop a horse, the sun beating down on his his face as the arid breeze whistled through the brush and the blue sky blended into the yellow of the mountaintops. Around him was nothing but land: vast, empty expanses of land without a single rule or expectation to impose upon him.

Then he saw Zelda in a tiny chapel, bedecked in a white wedding dress and her finest pearls. She had a wide smile on her face and a delicate hand extended toward him, beckoning him to the altar at the end of the aisle. Through the windows the desert sun streamed in around them, finally free to walk in the streets however they pleased, finally married, finally his wife…

But with almost an almost visceral sense of vertigo he was transported back to New Orleans, back to the club with Violette, who was now grown as she sang along to the notes he played on the piano he had owned all his life. Her laughter told him that she had always loved it there, just as much as he did, and she would only grow to love it more, to be just as inspired and connected to the only home he had ever known.

Finally, his mind drifted back to Zelda, this time in their kitchen cooking a recipe that his aunt had taught him. He stood behind her in the same place where they had some of their happiest memories, their most intimate moments.

As he pulled her closer to him, he could hear people yelling in French through the doors open to the street below. Their accents sounded just like his own, just like his mother and his aunt, perhaps just like his daughter’s would one day. The sound of their voices drifted into the kitchen, mingling with the scents of cooking and the feeling of Zelda in his arms, telling him that he was already home.

In the seemingly suspended year of 1928, Antoine buried his head in his hands. None of the visions or the dreams mattered anyway; the choice had already been made. The money was gone, long gone. He had spent it paying bills for the club and buying food for his family, just trying to keep the club afloat while the bribes grew larger by the month.

Antoine finally looked back to Gio, making sure the tears in his eyes had dried enough so that they wouldn’t betray his words, “I’m sorry Gio, but it sounds like nothing but a pipe dream to me. Why would I leave when there’s nothing to go on but your word? I’ve got the club, my family, my city; I won’t throw that all away for a rumor.”

Giorgio visibly flinched, as though Antoine’s words had come directly from Josephine herself. Then he swallowed the dismissal, knowing that it was only a taste of what waited for him at home. He shrugged his shoulders and looked back out over the Mississippi River, “Suit yourself then, old sport. I hope it doesn’t come to all this, but I have a feeling it might.”

[simpingforstardew]

Hi!! I love your writing!! Especially on SDV and Emily!! If you are open to requests, cloud you do one were the reader divorced Haley bc she realized she ended up in love and connection more with Emily? How would she react? Happy ending pliz 🫰🏻

nature abhors a vacuum

pairing: sdv emily x reader (sdv haley & reader)

synopsis: after a failed marriage, you realise your heart always belonged to emily ♡ i did change the req ever-so-slightly but i hope you still enjoy this drabble, anon !!

warnings: slight angst, mention of divorce / heartbreak. happy ending !!

word count: 0.7k

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Haley’s voice is honeyed and sombre, yet still wrapped in the effervescent charm of her Valley girl accent, “Thanks for the memories, just go… live your own life.”

Her smile is bittersweet as she tucks a strand of displaced golden hair behind her ear; quietly, she leaves.

Time always seems to stand still during moments like this, during endings; during heartbreak. The rain that pours from the dark clouds above seems pathetically appropriate. It feels as though barbed wire is tugging at your throat as you push the tears back— it was silly really, this was a mutual divorce.

For weeks now, you and Haley had been at odds: at first, silly arguments about movies and music. Then, inevitably, disagreements about taste became fights about chores; fights became nights alone on the living room sofa. Turns out there is a difference between loving someone and liking them; living with you, being by your side 24/7, made Haley realise that— although she cares about you immensely— she doesn’t particularly like you.

But then there was Emily.

Vibrant, passionate, she breaths life into the shadows of your existence. With Emily, conversations are more than just words; they're connections. Her laughter is a melody that fills the air with warmth. Her presence lifts the weight of the world, replacing it with a sense of peace you haven't known in years.

You didn’t realise how much you needed somebody like that until you met her. The dejected look she would wear when watching you flirt with her sister was lost on you completely; the gifts Emily painstakingly made for you were received platonically.

You pick up one of Emily’s handmade gifts that lay neglected on your sofa: a cardigan knitted from the softest wool, dyed in your favourite colour. Running your fingers over the soft fabric, you discovered a small detail: a custom label on the hem of the cardigan, embroidered with a heart.

A blush warms your cheeks before the realization hits.

You’re in love with Emily.

Slipping into the cardigan, you sprint out of your farmhouse. You feel the unrelenting rain soak your skin as your dog barks out in the distance; your boots splash in the puddles along the dirt path to town.

As you enter the town square, you see Emily rush towards the Stardrop Saloon with her coat pulled over her head, protecting herself from the rain you’re soaking in.

“Em’! There’s something I need to tell you,” you shout, voice barely louder than the rain as you approach the saloon, “Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

Emily’s eyes widen as she looks towards you, “Oh Yoba, you’re soaked! W-What is it?”

“I… I love you, Emily. I think I’ve loved you for a very long time, but I was too scared to admit it. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I just… I can’t imagine my life without you.” You exhale softly as you tuck a strand of azure hair behind her ear, “Everything you used to tell me about soulmates and fate… I just wanted to tell you that whatever happens now, my soul belongs to you. It always has.”

Emily’s breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushed with surprise and disbelief. “You… you love me?”

With a surge of emotion, you closed the distance— your soft lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes more than your words ever could. Your hand nestles in her soft hair, and you feel her pull you closer with a tug of your cardigan.

As you finally pull away, breathless and dizzy, Emily looks up at you with a beaming smile, “I love you too, of course... Cute cardigan by the way.”

[hopepetal]

Writing I did for my boatem vampires au!

I love seeing all your thoughts, theories, questions, and comments on this au! Feel free to shoot me an ask whenever! Don't be shy, I love talking to you all!

—

There was an intruder in their territory.

The thought of a trespasser in his forest made Impulse seethe with rage. Especially when Gem had mentioned the traces of magic she'd sensed from the place the stranger had crossed into his territory from hers. Any and all supernatural beings should've been well aware of the territory markings, meaning whoever was in the forest was either desperate or a threat.

Scar was right beside Impulse as they ran through the forest, Mumbo and Grian not far behind. The moon, partially covered by clouds, shone down through the trees as the vampires ran, providing them unneeded but welcome light. Combing the area near where Gem had reported the intruder, it wasn't long before the scent of magic and blood caught Impulse's attention and drew the group of vampires to a tree that most certainly hadn't been there a few days prior.

The vampires fanned out into a semi circle around the tree, an air of somberness having descended on them. “That's a nature spirit's tree, isn't it?” Mumbo pointed out, reaching out and lightly placing his hand against the bark. “I wonder what happened.”

Impulse frowned, approaching the tree as Grian decided to climb up into the branches. “They– Grian, that's disrespectful, get down– they must have taken pretty bad damage if they decided to shift. I doubt they were a threat, then, but why…?”

“Why indeed.” Grian finally spoke up as he began to descend from the tree carefully. “Could it have had anything to do with this?” His feet hit the ground, and he held out the small bundle in his arms.

Scar peered over, audibly gasping and stumbling back. “Oh, baby!” he exclaimed, eyes like saucers.

Impulse and Mumbo gave him confused glances, before looking at what Grian was holding. And it was just like Scar had said– oh, baby. Impulse froze, brown eyes locked with large silver ones. For a moment, he remembered hazel eyes and tiny hands and a cheerful voice calling his name. He shook the images away before the memories could be tainted by the sound of their screams, focusing on the present. “That… is a baby,” he agreed. “A very tiny, very human baby. Why was a dying nature spirit carrying a human baby?”

“Kidnapping?” Mumbo suggested, looking between the others, “no, that's a fae thing, isn't it?”

“People other than the fae can kidnap kids,” Scar pointed out, giving Grian a concerned look. “Are you supposed to hold babies like that?”

Impulse shook his head, automatically reaching for the infant. “Give her to me.” He took the baby into his arms and cradled her, making sure to support her head. Instinctively, he began to rock side to side on his feet.

“I'm surprised she isn't screaming,” Grian piped up, “aren't babies supposed to scream?”

“Let's hope she doesn't,” Impulse muttered, continuing to rock her.

There was silence for a moment.

“We're adopting her!” Scar exclaimed at the same time Grian went “Impulse, don't tell me you want to keep her.” The two shared looks before starting to laugh.

“But seriously,” Grian continued through soft laughter, “are we taking her in? I know that look,” he added before Impulse could interrupt, “and honestly, I'm all for it if the rest of us are. But how…?”

“We just tell her we found her one day?” Mumbo suggested, “and decided to adopt her?”

“I'm worried about the fact she's human,” Scar pointed out, “do we raise her like a vampire? Obviously we can't just feed her blood.”

Impulse shrugged. “We'll have to get used to human food, then. It's not like we can't eat it– we'll just have to have a supply of blood somewhere she can't get into.”

“Guys,” Mumbo interjected, but was ignored.

“We have the extra room– but she should stay with us, shouldn't she? Babies should stay with their parents in tiny cribs?” Scar asked, Impulse nodding.

“Do we feed her formula? Or do we have to, y'know… I don't think any of us could breastfeed– no, Scar, put your clothes back on!” Grian smacked Scar's hand before continuing. “Babies drink milk, right? We could steal a cow from Tim!” he suggested.

“Guys–” Mumbo tried again, but was interrupted.

“We are not stealing a cow from the ranchers,” Impulse shot Grian down. “We'll just have to buy baby formula, I suppose– or ask Gem? She takes care of baby animals. Maybe we could figure something out with her?”

“Gentlemen, please!” Mumbo yelled, finally getting everyone's attention. “This is all well and good, but there's something really big we're missing.” He looked around at the others. “What's her name?”

“Can't we just call her Baby?” Scar asked, “I think that's a lovely name.”

Impulse chuckled. “Actually, I had something in mind. How about… Pearl?”

The other vampires shared a look, before various affirmations were given.

Scar grinned. “I like the name Pearl. I could give her so many nicknames! Pearlie. Pearlo. Pearlie pop. Pearlie whirly–”

Grian smacked him over the back of his head. “Stop it, Scar! You're going to confuse the poor girl, and she doesn't even know how to speak yet!”

Mumbo giggled. “Pearl, then. And you all are sure we can handle raising a whole child? She's a whole human being, you know.”

Impulse hesitated, looking up. “...yeah. Yeah, I think we'll be able to handle it. If we need help, we'll have Gem and the ranchers. They're pretty good with kids, right?”

Grian made a face. “Tim's okay, but I'm pretty sure Tango would start focusing super hard on his projects and forget about a baby. Gem, I'm not sure. On our end, well– we have the financial ability and space to support her. We're pretty mature– don't look at me like that, Impulse– so, yeah. I think we could raise a child.”

“We'd raise her better than the wilds would,” Scar pointed out. “She'd die out here. Or worse.”

Impulse pressed his mouth into a thin line. “...yeah, no. Not in my territory. We're taking her in,” he decided, glancing down to see inquisitive silver eyes staring up at him. “Hi, Pearl,” he cooed, smiling softly.

Mumbo glanced toward the sky. “We should probably get her home. The moon's starting to set, and I don't think we should be running at full speed with a human baby.”

“Good idea,” Impulse agreed, “we'll walk back, then.”

“I still think we should steal a cow,” Grian said during the walk back, “I think it would be fun.”

Impulse snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah. If you wanna get burnt to a crisp while trying to steal from a fire spirit, be my guest, Grizzly bear.”

Grian blinked. “I'm sorry, what did you just call me?”

Mumbo chuckled lightly. “I can kinda see it. His hair's a fluffy mess, just like grizzly bear fur. Good one, Impulse!”

Grian turned on Mumbo, eyes wide and indignant. “I do not look like a grizzly bear!”

Pearl, still cradled in Impulse's arms, let out a soft babble followed by a giggle. Impulse grinned down at her, gently tickling under her chin. “I think that means she agrees, Grian.”

Grian groaned, shaking his head. “Well, I can't argue with a baby!”

Scar beamed. “Indeed you can't. Too bad, G-man!”

Finally they arrived back home, and were quick to pull together a sleeping area for Pearl. They'd all sleep in the same room tonight, Impulse decided, and the others were fine with that.

“As long as Scar keeps his clothes on–!” Grian had squawked, earning laughter from the rest of the group.

Scar placed a hand over his heart, casting a solemn gaze over the group. “I, Scar, promise to keep my clothes on during the sleepover.”

“He didn't,” Grian would later explain to Pearl, “we woke up and his shirt was halfway across the room.”

“It was not!” Scar would argue as Pearl giggled, his hands gently braiding her hair. “He's lying, Pearl! Lies and slander, I tell you!”

The next day, Impulse took care of Pearl while the others ran to the nearest town and grabbed whatever items they needed to properly care for the baby. Things wouldn't be perfect, but they would try.

—

“And that's why Griba told me babies grow on trees?”

“Yeahhh. Not sure what he was trying to accomplish with that one. Maybe he just panicked or something.”

“...thank you for telling me the story, Impy. Or should I call you Dad?”

“Ha. Whatever you want, moonshine.”

—

Thanks to @evenmoreevil for that breastfeeding line. Btw. It's his fault.

[ikarosx]

Notes: Ikaros through the years. Little timestamps of visions, from his first to his most recent, and how he understands them. Mentions: @abelasx, @iskendcr, @faelortianyou, Titania, Yavanna, Oberon.

Timestamp: I was ten.

The sky was a mix of yellow and red. The light of the Laurelin was always bright, always mixing with what I could see.

“You were named after my grandmother,” Yavanna whispered in my ear, like it was some grand secret between the two of us. “Ikaria, she was called. Dark hair like yours, seemingly knowing everything and anything,” there was a lilt of amusement to her voice now, but still calming as the two of us sat within Mythal’s Glade.

I felt like there was a new piece to the puzzle of my history, to the idea that I could be named after a great queen of the past, someone I never would’ve met. “Was she a good queen?” I'm not sure why I wanted to know, it wasn't like I thought she possibly couldn't be, but my grandmother was always honest. I liked that.

Yavanna smiled down at me, “Yes, I like to think she was. She passed the crown to my father, her eldest.” The smile faded for a moment, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. I didn’t get to ask my other question, my father suddenly appearing and taking my short attention span away from my grandmother.

Oberon was tall, charming - the elvhen loved him. For what reason, I wouldn’t ask that question for decades. To me, he was larger than life. A brilliant warrior, one who held devotion to Titania, but there were flashes of imperfection, something I admired in secret. Things were done a certain way in Avalon, customs of the Elvhen, but I appreciated when things were messy. If only because it made me laugh.

It was that moment that Aravel appeared, and I was already moving to leave my grandmother’s lap. It was embarrassing, couldn't she see my friends were around? There was a group of children waiting, those who lived within Mythal’s Glade, “Can I go? Please? Aravel will start the game without me. He knows I hate it. He will-“ Yavanna’s hand stopped my complaints, but it didn’t stop my scowl.

“You may. But don’t be long,” it was her usual goodbye, though as she rose and she approached Oberon, the two falling in quiet conversation, she was the only one to glance back at me as I ran off with a wave.

“Ara!” I had to run to catch up, my best friend still slightly out of range. Everything looked wrong, however. One of the kids was towering, another looked unimpressed at Aravel. Only I was allowed to look at him like that. Aravel was weird, sure, but he was my only friend, taken into the palace two years ago when his father had died. It was a great sadness, to lose someone like that. I wasn't sure how to process it at first, but I'd tried my best to cheer up my friend.

Though time seemed to slow as I got closer. Like my legs were stuck in mud, and I couldn't move my arms. Panic would've overcome me if I could've felt my own emotions. I prayed for death to save me from the embarrassment of falling over, but the gods must've been busy because Aravel was talking to me. I couldn't hear him because everything felt red. Hot, red, red, red. "I was talking about you." Rage, an undercurrent of grey, of fear. A fist coming towards my face, and I was landing face first in the mud from the hit. Laughter. It was red, red, red. It was like an out of body experience, consuming me from the inside. I was watching, standing by, and then all of the sudden, it faded.

“What’s wrong with him?” Someone spoke, and I was pulled from my vision, Aravel holding on to my wrist like it would keep me from falling over. And it did, I was a scrawny thing anyway, that's what my father had said. Lanky, like one of those elk Aravel had mentioned once. Too big for my legs. Once I gathered myself, Aravel spoke.

“There are Owlbears we can talk to, Ikaros. It’s fine,” Aravel was the weird kid, and I loved him for it. I was about to answer him, but the words were dying on my tongue as the older kid that I'd just seen in my head stepped forward.

“Freak. Run home to mummy, she’ll fix it all.”

The tug from Aravel did nothing to stop me from turning back, some fierce streak of protectiveness running through me, “Don’t call him that.”

“I was talking about you.” The features on the other child’s face twisted, and in hindsight, it was all very dramatic for a few ten year olds. I knew it was coming, moving to watch as the older boy’s fist missed me and he slipped face first into the mud.

Laughter bubbled up from behind me, and I turned to see Aravel cover his mouth with his hand. His laugh was important to me, it had been so for two years now, though I stepped over the boy on the ground to follow my friend without a glance back. I was desperate to tell my mother, but for now, there were Owlbears to meet.

They'd hunted and brought us rabbits and gophers.

Aravel and I cooked the rabbits for them.

They were pleased.

We said we wouldn't touch the gophers.

They were less pleased.

It was only when it was time for me to sleep that I found my words again, my mother standing a few feet away. I didn't want to get in trouble, but what was the worse that could happen? The kid had tried to hit me, and I wasn't stupid. So I puffed out my chest, everything coming out at once as I continued my story. “I felt…red. Like it’s all I saw. And a little bit of pink. And grey, like I was mad and angry at the same time. And then he threw a punch and it hit me but then when he actually did it, it didn’t hit me. I moved. I was so good, you should’ve seen me. Aravel was there. He’d tell you the truth. He said I stared off like a cat-sith when they’re hunting. I don’t know what that means but it sounds pretty cool.”

Titania hushed me, and my chest deflated when she took my hands, only the two of us in her room. I idly wondered where my father was, but it was a distant thought as my mother met my gaze, “You’re upset with me," I couldn't tell what her expression was, and I was seconds from blaming the other kid. "Am I weird for seeing it?"

“I’m not, Ikaros. But what you’re seeing…it’s your gift.”

Timestamp: I was two hundred and fifty five.

It was blue. Of course it was. The ocean always was. It was vast and filled so deeply with melancholy that I thought I would choke on it.

That’s all I felt in my chest as a woman reached for my hand, the Moongate just a few steps away. She was Silver Elvhen, desperate to know what had happened to her child. I had told her it wasn’t like that, that I didn’t know what would come if I looked. Contact had almost come repulsive to me, and it had taken a while to understand what could possibly bring on a vision. It wasn't anything to do with objects, sometimes I could see something in the middle of the night, other times, I could attempt it with a little bit of contact. Maybe it was desperation, or something else, but she grabbed my hand to ask once again and it did exactly what I was hoping to avoid – it triggered me.

Blue, blue, blue.

Midnight blue.

The stars felt like ice along my skin, so deep was the ocean of her grief, like the expanse of dark midnight sky.

There was a body being lifted, a young man who looked no older than twenty, from the back of a horse. I saw the woman scream, her grief all encompassing as it passed through me. So blue. Always blue. Every vision was blue. Death and devastation, it was always Iskaldrik. Always taking from the Silverlands, all while the High Elvhen stayed hidden behind the Moongate offering support from behind a glass mirror. I wasn't a fool, but I also wasn't the King.

Our contact was broken, I felt a shudder run through me until I felt a strong hand on my chest. Grounding, always grounding – Tianyou. It steadied me, but I felt depressed and angry all at once. There was the beginning of a migraine, I could feel it, and I wasn't going to escape it this time. “He’s dead,” that was all I could get out, unable to really sugarcoat it like I would at another time. Her wail of grief followed me through the Moongate.

Echoing, blue, blue, blue.

Timestamp: I was almost four hundred.

It was yellow. It was orange. It was laughter, happiness, sunshine and grass and leaves.

It was love. It was what I felt, and I was sure that I hated it.

Not really, but it was close enough. I had to explain once that I wasn’t an empath, there were those that understood emotions way better than I did. They could manipulate them, understand them. For myself, the visions consumed me. I was never just a third party watching a scene play out, if anything, I wished I was. It was all encompassing. I could feel the anger in the air, red and red, or the sorrow of midnight blue. Or perhaps laughter, orange and yellow and sunshine. Other times, there was the blinding white light of peace.

This was different.

I was awake, for one, the Silver Elvhen laughing in front of me. For the longest time, I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t think it would work out if I saw something in the future, immediate or not. But I could explain it to Abelas later, if I could even find my brother later. He was always off adventuring, and Deniz was unlike any I'd met. But there was always a catch. I'd come to expect that.

I'd also come to accept that some people, no matter how good their heart was, or how much love they had to give, they would always be alone. That was how I'd felt for so long. Some twisted isolation that was my fault, my prerogative, and I'd changed it to know Deniz. My mother had told me, not too soon after Oberon had been banished, that sometimes, you were able to choose the life you wanted. "And if you're lucky, sometimes that life chooses you back," she'd finished, and I'd only understood that she'd meant me. The rest would sting, but there was life to be lived, and she would continue on.

But all things ended, even myself and Deniz. My first great love, the one where I could put my hand on his and I could feel my own emotions. Deniz was that moment before a storm. Where the sky was grey and cloudy, where the electricity in the air made you shiver. All encompassing, and I was ready to wait it out.

Yet it was a horrible thing, to see the future and know that no matter what I did, what Deniz did, that I couldn't fix it no matter how much I wanted to. He'd said it before, how there wouldn't be a forever. Nothing lasted like that, I'd remind him, but there was that midnight blue sorrow I would feel. It would mix with the yellow and green of sunshine and grass, of rain and the sound the leaves made when the wind passed through them. But it wasn't enough.

I was like the sun, and he was the moon: always chasing.

Timestamp: Present Day

We all had monsters in our dreams. Some of us had just lived with them longer.

My head was pounding. I felt like I'd belonged at the bottom of one of those filthy gutters that I'd seen in Eterna, somewhere around the tower. The Tower itself was always pristine, as was Arvandoril, so it wasn't like it didn't feel more at home than usual.

I'd come a few days prior, Tianyou not far behind me, waiting for the healers of Ceres to once again give me something. It was magic, it was the mind, they'd remind me of that often.

One of the witches had looked at me the day before, saying it would be a shame if an oracle was to be lost. It'd taken me a moment to understand how far through the mud she was dragging me.

"I'm not depressed."

They'd looked me up and down, "You aren't? Why on earth not?"

That'd been the end of that conversatoin. I'd stormed off in a gloriously dramatic fashion, Tian laughing at me as I'd made it outside the door.

"I hate it here," I'd growled out, sounding more like my cat-sith every day. I'd even been accused of purring once, but when Saleba purred, it indicated devious plotting involving nefarious deeds. I didn't trust that cat, but I loved him. So there was that.

"You wanted to visit," Tianyou pointed out the obvious, and I had to refrain from being grouchy once more.

That was yesterday, and today, I'd only managed to drag myself out of bed after taking the herbs recommended to me. Magic couldn't fix everything. There were days where I felt lighter, this was not one of those days. It'd be nice if I could be paint on a wall, blending into the background, but I was always present. I had so many questions. To be a High Elvhen was to never be alone, but to see the future? It felt isolating. And time, it never stopped, but it often felt elastic.

I could feel another vision, edging at the back of my conscious. This one was dark again, relating to no one near me. My only contact was the desk I'd balanced myself against. Fear. Black, all consuming, darkness. A roar echoed in my head, but I was there. I could see it. Creatures of the blight, another blighted hand reaching forward. Was it mine? Flashes of yellow – deceit. I gasped as I was brought out of it by a banging on the door. A wave of desperation overtook me. I had to see more. I had to go back. But it never worked. Was it the future? Was it the current? It'd be someone I'd met before, had to be, but as I stumbled to the door, looking less like a prince with every stumbling step I took, I had little time to pull it open before I was looking into the eyes of one of the Queen's Court.

"Iskaldrik has fallen."

[missanne]

The great war- chapther 7: style

Yn's heart was agitated that morning, and the reason was her first day of class, despite being at a college in another country she still felt like a teenager accompanied by loneliness, her first days in that country were also similar to what I hoped to forget: she had been kidnapped and even if she hadn't been subjected to physical torture, the words spoken at those times were like worms in fertile soil, and even if she tried to avoid them, they always came back and tormented her mind. She woke up suddenly when a knock on the door followed by shoko (she made a mental note that for the first time in her life, she had made real friends and how good that was) her roommate came in with breakfast: _ good morning star! Here's a special breakfast!

yn's voice was hoarse from hours of sleep, even so, she tried to sound hopeful: _ good morning, I'm very excited for today, and you?

] _ MY GOD! You're saying what you're feeling, a miracle, I mean… — the girl with brown hair had realized that she wasn't much for talking about what was going on inside her mind, and after a long conversation about communication, it was promised that the two would talk about what they were feeling, no matter the situation, Shoko thought it would take her a while to start talking, so her surprise was evident. Between laughs, the girls drank the beauty juice they had researched before bed and the omelet.

Upon entering the campus, some looked at the newcomer, as in addition to the color red they stood out on a black campus, her company was none other than Shoko, one of the best students at the college if not the province.

Those who missed that day had a huge regret: it was rare for foreign students to pass the exams, they were always below or average for admission. Therefore, it was the news of the semester, but what happened next left everyone with an immense thirst to meet the new girl, who at that point had only lost her prescription glasses, and while she was looking in her bag, a tall figure with black hair White people approached and with a strangely sly voice said: Ah, how are you my dear, wow, you're wearing that perfume…

_ oh, not today satoru, I'm busy…

_Ah, yes, I see, are you worrying about that? — He points silver glasses up.

_did you catch him?

_yes, I took it to take the measurements and make one like it….

_ so that's why I'm seeing everything blurry! Please give me back!

_ no.- and after saying it, he raised them above his head and looked at her with a free laugh. At that moment, yn already had her hand on her chest, and despite her heart beating very fast, she was well-behaved, her blurred vision made her uncomfortable, and she was afraid of hitting or bumping into someone on her first day of school and passing. A tremendous shame; She gets close enough to the boy actually to confirm his identity, and asks him again: — Are you sure you won't give it back to me?

I have-then yn take it with the tip of her finger and put it on his arm and then spin it around, making him scream loudly and consequently drop his glasses: — thank you Satoru, you're the best. And she left him there, dying of shame, he had shouted so loudly that the other half of the university who weren't looking at him had to look, and those who were looking in disguise couldn't maintain their posture and tried to hide their laughter or laughter. Shoko and the boys who had arrived looked at her coming towards her with a look of pride, because in her first few seconds in Japan, the same episode had repeated itself, but with a different outcome. So their first serious conversation was:_ When he does that again, you just pinch him.

_ Serious? Won't he fight?

_ If he fights, just ignore it.

Despite feeling bad because he had saved her from a horrible situation, she felt that, deep down, he wouldn't care. The spectators were shocked by Yn's “resistance” to gojo, after all, regardless of gender, everyone was into him and there was even a rumor that if you talked to him or geto and ended up without at least having a crush on both of them, you wouldn't, you would meet no one else in your life. But there was the foreigner not only resisting the gojo but going against her will, so even though in silence everyone wanted to know a little more about her, after all, who would be the mortal capable of such audacity? This spread like a match in alcohol, not only the first period, but the second as well, Shoko noticed this, but the rest is another story.

[smalife1234]

This is our 4th weekly smiles!! 👍 Please enjoy the read!

What made me smile this week?

Monday, 8/19/24 - today, we chilled for most of the day, and I was standing using our catheter box. During that moment, I fell over and smacked my face on the side of Luz's wheelchair! It made me start dying in laughter! And we just chilled on our tablets and we had a pretty good day in Catheterization wise! Sadly a butter knife almost fell on my foot! Poor my feet! but today's chill day made me smile!

Tuesday, 8/20/24 - we're on our third vitamin gummy! I tried a new flavor it was good! We washed a squish mellow that hadn't been washed for six months lol! It made us start dying in laughter! Then we chilled for the rest of the day. Sadly, our mom had a rough night and was hitting the headboard of her bed. It scared us, but thankfully, she's doing ok! And it didn't make us smile; however, Luz, our friend, had many Catheterizations, like 7 of them, which sucks! But we smiled, heading to bed at 1:00 a.m. Goodnight!.

Wednesday, 8/21/24 - today is my wife's six-month anniversary of living with an SCI! It made me smile! As she has made this far into her journey I am beyond proud of her ❤️! Lots of love to my awesome baba, then we headed to an open house since school is starting on August 26th! Scared yet excited! We went to the Open house, got some of our supplies and lots of papers, and I found out I have a class with my friends!! Hooray 🎉 made me smile! I got to say hi to Mrs Lawson!! Which is good! We got home and tried on my green button-up shirt for senior pictures!! September 3rd anxious yet excited! Made me smile! At the beginning of the day, I had my 38th round of chemotherapy! Thankfully, no symptoms. It made me smile!

Thursday, 8/22/24 - we chilled most of the day and played Subway Surfers for most of the day. We had a fun time hanging out with friends. It was a fun but chill day! Sadly, our friend Luz had a meltdown, and the other Luz kept having tic attacks and seizures! That didn't make me smile but the nice day certainly made me smile!

Friday, 8/23/24 - today I woke up around 7:48 Am! Which is early, and I woke up around 4:00 Am, but considering the time, I did not want to start my day just yet, lol! We chilled on Subway Surfers until Big Donny got a jackpot!! On his tablet! Which is amazing! It was amazing to see on the screen! And it made me smile! We soon chilled and laughed for a few to a funny choking audio from Instagram! (Obviously, the audio was made for laughs)! We were laughing and now we're just enjoying the rest of our summer! It made me smile! For dinner, we had yummy chicken, Alfredo!

Saturday, 8/24/24 - today, I woke up around 7:15 Am but then fell back asleep, lol, and then woke up again around 7:39 Am, which is good since I've been waking up later recently! We watched reels in the morning and discovered another paraplegic! T9! It was cool how she transferred in and out of the pool! Now we're chilling just hanging out and talking about paraplegic struggles and how if I went up a steep ramp my head would tip backward and I wouldn't be able to get it back up recently we've been talking about my strength since my third month of ALS is approaching don't worry I already have a long lengthy post for y'all to read :) And we saw a lizard in our window. It brought us immense joy! As we laughed and filmed the lizard, sadly, I have my 39th round of chemotherapy tomorrow! Which sucks but I'll push through it! And big Donny got another jackpot. It was amazing indeed! And it made us all smile! Then we chilled for the rest of the night. Sadly, our friend Luz, who is in the red wheelchair (since we have two friends named Luz), felt sick and was probably having Autonomic dysreflexia that night since she had a runny nose. She was coughing a lot and had a headache! Which sucks and that did not make us smile :( our other friend named Luz had a rough day in Catheterizations. It was not as bad as before, but she managed to get to 5, which is not normal, and kept needing to transfer out of her chair, which did not make us smile! But chilling the rest of the night and having a good night's sleep made me smile!

Sunday, 8/25/24 - today I have my 39th round of chemotherapy! I don't have much of a weekly vlog put together lol! So it will be very short! But I am happy to almost be 40 rounds in! And I am excited/nervous to be hitting my third month with ALS! And school starts Tomorrow!!! So I'll be nervous then but we are prepared! And cannot wait to see our friends! That made us smile. And I got a little greedy, lol, and ordered a chicken with egg biscuit with starry, hash browns, and a peach cobbler, but I am very grateful for our parents buying us a yummy breakfast! Thank you in advance! We chilled for a long time and had yummy potato soup! It was very good! Well, I won't keep y'all waiting! So, I will end this entry early. Thanks for reading, and I hope this week made you smile! Feel free to share your thoughts!!

What made you smile this week?

Img desc #1: shows a picture of a lizard on their window.

Img desc #2: doc is seen smiling with a pink long-sleeved shirt brown colored pants and dark brown shoes she is in her electric wheelchair

Img desc #3: shows Donny yelling into the camera/making a silly face. He is lying in bed. There is a blue hue in the camera because of a blue LED light.

Img desc #4: doc is seen driving down a ramp, turned away from the camera. The ramp seems to be having some work done. Doc is in her electric wheelchair while wearing a green short-sleeved shirt and beige-colored shorts.

Img desc #5: Emmie is seen smiling with a drink in her hand she is wearing a white Hawaiian-themed shirt and beige-colored shorts she is in her electric wheelchair

Img desc #6: Emmie is seen smiling into the camera while wearing a red shirt. There is a grey filter over the image. Emmie has a pair of sunglasses on her face.

Img desc #7: doc and Emmie are seen smiling while at an event. Emmie, seen right of the image, is wearing a black short-sleeved shirt and grey jeans. Her arm is resting on Doc's electric wheelchair. Doc, seen left of the image, is seen smiling in her electric wheelchair while wearing a pink long-sleeved shirt and beige-colored jeans paired with dark brown shoes.

Img desc #8: doc is seen smiling with someone as she wears a complete purple tuxedo. There is an orange background behind Doc, and her electric wheelchair is titled to the left of the image. She is staring into the camera and smiling.

Video description #1: shows Doc and Matthew showing off a lizard they thought was cool/ funny to see! In the video, you hear the commentary of laughter and the word lizard being repeated. The lizard is shown on the window as the Pokemon curtain is draped back.

[coffeecat1983]

Wreck-It Ralph/Mario Bros 2: What I Would Do for You chap 2:

   Mario rushed into his game just as Litwak clicked on the 'Open' sign. Everyone else was already gathered at the track and Luigi raised an eyebrow at his older brother.

     "Cutting it kinda close there, huh big bro?"    He shrugged. "So I had to run the rest of the way, no problem!"      "Pfft," Daisy draped an arm around Mario. "Felix isn't doing his job if you can walk, let alone run after a night with him."    Luigi burst into laughter and Mario turned as red as his hat but quickly recovered with a glint in his eyes. "I could say that about you and Luigi. You need to step up your game, lil bro."    Daisy nearly rolled with laughter as Luigi pulled his hat down, trying to hide. Peach giggled softly and nearby Bowser pretend gagged at their exchange. Her pink dress swishing, Peach joined Mario.      "How is Felix?" she inquired.      "He," Mario hesitated, recalling the other night, "He's been having some trouble with nightmares lately." Leaning against the front of his kart, he folded his arms. "And he won't talk about em. I just wish I could think of a way to help."    She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll think of something."      "Heads up!" came Wario's call, alerting them that gamers had come in and were heading their way.

     "Aw c'mon, we gotta at least have one race!"    A young man bounced excitedly as he approached the Mario Kart game. His dark brown hair was dyed with bright blue tips, the tight curls looking like ocean waves. His companion had bright red hair that flowed as she walked, looking like flames when the sun from the windows hit it. She couldn't help but roll her eyes as she took the other seat and accepted the quarter from him.      "Fiiine, but then you gotta at least try Fix-It Felix Jr with me. Deal?"    He shook her hand. "Deal. So, who you gonna pick? Princess Peach?"    She snorted. "You know I don't go for that princess hype. Bowser's my dude!" she selected the Koopa King, grinning as he roared and shot off a few fireballs. "Lemme guess, Mario for you?"      "Ehh I think Luigi this time, gotta give him a fair chance."      "Wade, you are an absolute softy." Wade smirked. "You know you love me, Emm." They bantered back and forth for the entire race, with Wade winning one out of three rounds. He pumped his fists in the air.      "Score for the little guy giving it his all!" he cheered. Emm rolled her eyes again as she grabbed his shirt.      "Hurry up! I'm gonna kick your butt again at a Felix challenge." Moving to the other game, Emma stood before the controls, but Wade stopped her before she put in the quarter.      "Wait, how about a little wager?" he ventured.    She turned, hand on her hip. "What do you have in mind?"      "Best outta three, if you win, I go to that horror movie you were talking about." A raised eyebrow. "And if you win?"    He grinned. "You know exactly what movie I'd want to see if I win." His reply made her groan and rub her head. "Wade, c'mon, you really wanna see the Mario Bros movie? With that voice cast? And Illumination of all companies..."    Felix perked up. "Mario movie?" he whispered.      "It'll be fun! Do we have a deal or not?"    Thinking it over, she gave in. "Alright, deal." She reached up and putting a hand on his cheek, gave him a light kiss. "And even if I win, I'll watch the Mario movie with you once it's on the internet." Dancing a cheerful, giddy dance, Wade then stepped aside with a bow to allow her access to the game.

   It wasn't much later that Wade stepped away from the game as Ralph was tossed off the roof. A smirk was wide on the young man's face as he folded his arms.      "So, about that movie?" Emma sighed and shrugged. "All right, but if I end up with mental trauma from this, I'm blaming you."    The two wandered off as a family group entered the Arcade and the day got into full swing. By the time closing time rolled around and the 'all clear' was sounded, everyone was more than ready to relax.    Stretching, Felix popped his back with a yawn. "Hoo boy, what a day."      "You did great today, buddy!" Ralph praised. "You wanna hit up BurgerTime?"      "Thanks, but not tonight, Ralph. I gotta get to Mario and Luigi's for dinner." Waving to him as the tram left, Ralph was joined by Q*Bert and the two watched as the tram vanished from sight.      "^%$@?"      "Kinda, sounded like they wouldn't be alone though."      "&%^$#! )+*^?" Ralph paused, then looked down at his little friend. "That's crazy," he replied, "Felix would obviously wear the wedding dress."

   Making his way to the Mario Kart port, Felix rode the tram and exiting at the little station, took the path beyond the castle. Reaching the hidden Toad Town, he couldn't help but stop and admire the sight. The game developers had originally planned a full story mode for the game, so the entire town was programmed in along with the castle. The streetlights glowed as stars glittered overhead, only a few Toads out on the streets as the day drew to a close.    Felix had to admit visiting the town was one of his favorite activities. The colorful houses and busy streets were a vast change from his own game even with the addition of Q*Bert and the others moving into newly built homes. Taking the path through town he tipped his hat and exchanged greetings with some of the Toads as he strolled to the house up on the hill that overlooked the town.    Dusting himself off and standing straight, he knocked on the door. The red-painted wood swung wide, and the warm scent of cooking spices drifted out. Mario stepped aside, welcoming him in.      "Come on in!" he said cheerfully. Entering, Felix felt himself relaxing in the cozy atmosphere. Music played softly from somewhere and he could hear Luigi whistling along to the tune.      "Make yourself at home, dinner's not quiet done yet." Mario said as he shut the door.      "Sorry if I'm a little early." Felix shyly apologized as he hung his hat up beside the other two. Mario held up his hand.      "You're fine. Mr. Perfectionist in there kicked me out of the kitchen," Mario called this part around the corner, "and is taking his time."      "You can't rush perfection!" Luigi called back. "Why do you think I was born second?"      "Mamma Mia." Mario groaned as Felix laughed and followed him into the cozy little living room. Their guest waved to Luigi through the kitchen door and Luigi waved back. He was dressed in casual clothes and a bright green apron. Several pots simmered and bubbled on the stove in front of him.    Mario shrugged. "Eh, at least he's good at it. Better than me, that's for sure."      "Flatter me all you want; you're not getting a double dessert!" Luigi called out, hearing him. Their banter made Felix laugh. Joining Mario in the living room, the two kept the conversation light until Luigi announced dinner was ready.

   Gathering at the small dining table, Felix was impressed at the feast Luigi had placed out.      "Jeepers, Luigi, I might know how to fix a building, but you got me beat when it comes to fixin' food."    Cutting into the lasagna and plating a slice, Luigi handed the plate to Felix.      "Thanks! Gotta keep my bro fed somehow, he keeps so busy on and off the tracks he'd forget to eat if I let him."    Mario scoffed. "So I get caught up in other things, can't blame a guy for keeping busy." Partway through the meal, Felix was curious.      "Luigi, you mentioned being born second. Do you know more about that? About your family?"      "Mmm, not really." came the reply. "Our," he motioned to Mario, "programming tells us we're from Brooklyn and twins with me being the lil bro. But family and stuff? Well..."      "You're lookin' at it." Mario said. "It would be nice though, if we had a bigger backstory or more family. Even if we never got to actually meet them." Luigi reached for another slice of bread. "What about you? You got your magic hammer from your dad, right?"    Felix's fingers lightly traced over the top of the magic tool. "Yeah, but I never actually 'knew' him. My programming only gave me the backstory of him giving me the hammer on my twenty-first birthday, then that's it. I don't even know what he looked like."    A scoff as Mario took another bite. "Programmers, wish they'd think things out and give us really good stories instead of leaving us to guess."    Instead of scolding him for talking around a mouthful, Luigi hummed in agreement.      "Even a little more story would be nice, who our parents are, stuff like that." he added. "Something more than just our game's programming."    The rest of dinner held a quiet, thoughtful tone that continued as Mario went with Felix to walk him home. Reaching the penthouse, they shared a tender kiss goodnight. Returning to the tram station, Mario ran into some of the Nicelanders as they returned from the main station. The group, led by Gene, mainly ignored him as they went past. All that is, except Mary.      "Good evening, dear, you here to see Felix?"    Mario tipped his hat to her. "Just saw him home from dinner at my place." He paused, recalling what Ralph had said.      "Mary, do you mind if I ask you something?" She looked curious. "Go ahead."    Mario took a deep breath. "Why don't the other Nicelanders like me?" Her face fell and she glanced back at the apartment building. "It's not their fault. They're just very protective of Felix. As for me, I'm just so thankful it worked out between you two." Mary confessed. "I don't think Felix could have taken the heartbreak again."      "'Again'?" Mario questioned.    Mary stared off towards the cabinet screen before gestering to the nearby station bench. Mario joined her as she sat down.      "It was a one-sided romance, but oh," she sighed wistfully, "Felix had such a crush. Then everything fell apart."      "Who was it?" Mario asked cautiously, a sinking feeling in his gut.      "He was you, dear. At least in a way. The first and only other Mario ever in the Arcade. I'll never forget the day the game was plugged in."

   A crowd gathered around the freshly plugged in game port, anxious to meet the newcomers. Felix stared in disbelief as he read the name over the port.      "Super Mario Bros. Oh sweet mother of molassess." Felix nervously pulled his hat off in shy respect as four characters exited the port.

     "We had all heard of the game, and the famous Super Mario," Mary explained. "But he wasn't quite what we expected..."

   Stepping forward, Felix held out his hand. "M-Mario! It's so nice to finally meet you. I-I'm Fix-It Felix, Jr, from the game Fix-It Felix Jr."    Mario shook the offered hand, his face set in an almost businesslike smile. "Good to meet you." he motioned to the others. "This is my little brother, Luigi, my friend, Toad, and this," he took the hand of the woman standing next to him, "is my girlfriend, Princess Toadstool."    Wreck-It Ralph had been lurking in the shadows nearby, cautiously watching the gathering. He saw Mario shake Felix's hand and speak, then was alarmed to see something shift in Felix's expression, the joy replaced with an ache.

     "Of course, back then her name wasn't Peach, not just yet anyway." Mary continued. "And believe me, those two were programmed for each other. Aside from openly talking about her, Mario was quiet, not like you at all."      "What made him different, you think?" Mario was curious.    Mary thought it over. "I think in his programming, he didn't have a story. A full soul like you do. Oh, he was nice enough," she added quickly, "but he was stiff, his main focus driven by the desire to win and save the princess. Eventually he got it in his head that his worries and emotions were getting in the way."    Something Felix had once said came back to Mario. "I knew a fella who clipped his code. He was tryin' to focus only on his game, nothing else."      "Mary, that Mario, he clipped his code, didn't he?"     She gave a faint nod. "He didn't have the backstory you do. The day your game was plugged in, I knew you were different. You had this life in your eyes, an openness in your heart. You still do."    She patted his hand. "That's why Felix held back for so long." she sighed. "The day that Mario clipped his code, oh that was a bad day. Everyone could feel it..."

     "I don't like this," Gene muttered. "The whole Arcade feels off." He and a few other Nicelanders had gone with Felix out to Game Central Station after closing. Felix broke into a bright smile, taking off as he waved to someone.      "Hi Mario!" Gene huffed. "He's never going to stop, is he?"      "Give him a break, Gene, he's got a crush." Mary scolded.      "Something's wrong." Don muttered. "Look."    Felix had run up to Mario and skidded to a halt, taking a step back. "M-Mario?" The other glanced at him, blinked, then walked on. The look in his eyes sent a chill up Felix's spine.    It was cold and empty.    Other game characters stepped out of the way, muttering to each other as the figure passed by. Felix stared after him, stunned. The sound of sniffling made him turn and he saw Princess Toadstool leading Luigi out of the port, her arms around him as she spoke softly to try and calm him.      "Luigi, what happened?" Felix asked. "Mario just went by and something's not right."    A fresh wave of tears and Luigi sank to the floor. "H-He clipped his code!" he sobbed out.

     "It was less than a week later; we woke to find the game had been unplugged with no warning. Everyone was wiped out." she finished sadly. "The news nearly broke Felix. It was no small mercy Litwak closed the next day and took time off because he caught a cold. It gave everyone at least a little time to recover."    She paused, smoothing out her dress. "That's why Gene and a few of the other Nicelanders are a bit, well, rude. None of us want to see him hurt again."    Mario's chest ached. "And here I almost did it all over again." he muttered. "No wonder he has nightmares." Mary lightly touched his arm. "Don't blame yourself for that, dear. Felix has had nightmares for a long time. Personally, I'm thankful he has you there for him now."

To be continued...

[saintsofwarding]

SAINTS OF WARDING; HUNGRY DEMONS

Chapter 5: In Which Comes Sorrow

Weeping and prayers filled the old church, echoing off the dome, townsfolk huddled under pews and against the walls. As Heisenberg followed Teodora through the crowd, people grabbing at her hands with questions and pleas, another roar filled the air, so loud and so close Heisenberg felt it in his guts.

The church's stained glass windows rattled. Teodora's pace didn't slow.

"You said you'd help the kid," Heisenberg yelled after her. Several of her cronies joined them as they approached the church doors, armed with rifles to a man. "She's dying back there."

"And so will we if we hang around to talk about it," Teodora snapped.

She stopped as Emilia hurried to her side. "You're not going out there again?" Emilia said, her voice high and trembling.

"I have to." Teodora cinched her rifle strap tighter. "I'm armed, Em. I'll be fine."

"That thing- that thing took the others, Maria and Dana- they had guns, too-" She grabbed her sister's hands, her knuckles white. "Let me help you. I...I can shoot, I've been practicing, I hit the target every time-"

"No."

"Please, I can do it-"

"No. Em, stay inside. It'll be safe in here." She pressed her lips together. "If...if you have to, go down to the catacombs."

"I can't," Emilia whispered. "Mom and dad-"

Another bellow shook the ground. The air thrummed, and Heisenberg winced in time with the others as a spike of pressure drove itself into his skull. What the hell? That had come from above. What was this thing?

Whatever it was, he'd put it in its place. Show these townsfolk why he was Lord fuckin' Heisenberg. Metal or no metal, he knew how to brawl.

Teodora caught her sister in a tight hug. Emilia pressed her face to Teodora's shoulder; her lashes were wet. Her head down, Teodora let her go and pushed wide the doors, jerking her head for the others to follow.

The doors boomed shut behind them. The blizzard had descended, the sky lost behind a churning sea of snow-clouds and gray mist. Wind howled past, cold blades against Heisenberg's face as he scanned the sky for any sign of movement.

"So?" he yelled. "What are we fighting here?"

"You'll know it when you see it," Teodora muttered as she checked her rifle and set it to her shoulder. The others spread out across the graveyard, huddling against statues and headstones, against the crumbling walls of mausoleums. Andrei was whey-faced and muttering. Probably a prayer. He seemed the type. "Kind of hard to miss."

"Lycan? One of the big ones with wings? Those are some pretty nasty sons of bitches, no mistake, but you crack something heavy into their heads they go down fast-"

"It's not-" Teodora stopped. Her face blanched. "Shut up. Shut up now."

A vast shadow swept the snow-clouds overhead. Heisenberg had only an instant to react before the bellow came. It was a howl, a shriek-roar that seemed to reach inside him and draw claws down his heart, so huge he was surprised it didn't rip the graves from the ground and scatter them like so many broken teeth.

Wingbeats stabbed into his eardrums; he flung himself back as the shadow wheeled, as it bore down on them, as the wind off its wings hit them with the force of a blow-

It smelled of metal and sweetish rot, hot and organic. Familiar as a lullaby.

Blood.

Heisenberg's shoulder slammed into a grave; the shadow roared past overhead, wingbeats carrying it higher. It vanished again into the clouds.

"No," muttered Heisenberg. His heart pounded. The smell of blood clung to him, thick and viscous. "No, this is not fucking happening."

"It's coming back around!" Teodora's voice snapped him to attention. He half-rose as the shadow rippled again against the clouds. Wings spread, fifty feet or more, whipping the snow-clouds into a funnel storm. In its roar- again, that shriek, close to a kind of wild laughter. "Ready your guns!"

"Teodora!"

Andrei pointed down a nearby street at the base of the hill. A lantern bobbed and swung wildly, held by the unmistakable silhouette of a woman leading a pair of children.

"Shit," snarled Teodora. "I told them they should stay put."

She scrambled for Heisenberg. "You." She tore a pistol from her belt and shoved it into his hands. "Cover me."

Heisenberg smirked. "Buy me a drink first, sweetheart."

Teodora was already gone. She sprang from their cover and down the graveyard hill, toward the refugees running at full tilt toward the church. Overhead, the shadow thundered toward them, dropping into a steep dive.

It was gonna get them, Heisenberg knew. It would devour them alive, the three refugees and Teodora, and nothing these scared bastards with peashooters did would be enough to stop it.

Heisenberg chucked the pistol away and heaved himself to his feet.

The crack of gunfire filled the air. Muzzle flash underlit the clouds. In it he glimpsed pulsating dead-white flesh, the razor snarl of teeth upon teeth upon teeth, vast membranes thrumming as those impossible wings caught the wind. The wild laughter grew closer as the beast plummeted toward the refugees, as Heisenberg vaulted atop a mausoleum, arms spread.

Deep in his chest-

Something squirmed.

His Cadou, shaking itself awake.

"Well, well, well!" he yelled. "Just in time! I was feeling murderous!"

He lifted his arms.

His power surged back to him, so strong he tasted it, metal and lightning-scar and the furious beat of his own heart, pounding to overdrive. The surge whipped the remains of his trench coat around him; he curled his arm, power gripping a nearby wrought-iron lamp-post. With a heave and the crack of shattering concrete, he ripped the lamp-post whole from the ground. It shot past Andrei, who bucked backward with eyes wide. With a hum, the lamp-post smacked into Heisenberg's palms.

He swung it round, raining gravel from the clump of concrete on its base, carving an arc from the snowfall, and brought it to his shoulder. It wasn't his hammer, but it would sure as hell do.

The monster swiveled in midair; a downbeat blasted a circle of snow from the street below, sending one of the children sprawling. Golden eyes glowed through snow, too many of them. They sprouted in clusters around a splayed flower of jaws, mouthparts, multiple lobes abristle with teeth. A long tongue lashed back and forth, bruise-flesh and glistening saliva, the buzz of flies, claws spread. Pale tentacles writhed through the snow.

Those eyes- all of them- swiveled to Heisenberg.

"That's right, bitch," Heisenberg said. He let out a laugh. "Remember me?"

The monster bellowed. A wall of blood wind slammed into Heisenberg atop his mausoleum; he braced against it, then flashed a grin toward the beast.

"Come on!" he roared. "Let's go! Monster on monster!"

With a downbeat, the beast launched itself at him, tons of mutated flesh and radiant tentacles, raining a mixture of blood and mutagen. Shadow swamped the graveyard. The beast's tail whipped past the statue of a weeping angel overlooking the churchyard, slicing its head cleanly from its shoulders.

Heisenberg swung his lamp-post round as the monster rocketed toward him, claws splayed, jaws agape and hungry.

I'll give you something to chew on.

He cracked the hammer down. It slammed into the side of the beast's jaws, a ferocious blow, all his power-enhanced strength behind it. Cartilage cracked. With a shriek the beast veered off-course, tumbling through midair to the far side of the hill. Mold sprayed from its wounded jaw, thick and dark, dousing Heisenberg and Andrei, the other gunmen, the whole churchyard in slithering blackness.

The beast recovered fast; it banked round, circling the church. Now Heisenberg glimpsed the torso growing from a wet split in its back, curvaceous and sensual even in this form. Shriek-laughs echoed over the wind.

Breathing hard, Heisenberg cast a look toward Teodora and the refugees. The woman and her two children were nearly at the church. Teodora crouched downslope, rifle to shoulder, sending shots the monster's way.

"Get inside, bitch!" he yelled her way, but there was no chance in hell she heard him. The monster did. She banked toward them again- toward Teodora.

Heisenberg glanced toward the church. The people in there were fish in a barrel. He could run in, grab Rose, get the hell out, leave these bastards to the beast's hunger.

How long would Rose last if he did? A month? A week? These people could still help him, help her. That wasn't happening if all of them became monster food. That wasn't happening if he split and run now.

Lamp-post propped to shoulder, Heisenberg leaped from the mausoleum and hit the ground sprinting. He shoulder-clocked Andrei on the way past and raced for Teodora. Darkness swamped him- shadow and mass- and he jerked back seconds before huge claws crushed him into the cobblestones.

The monster crashed to the streets; cracks spanned under its claws, the ground split open under the beast's sheer force. It lifted half-furled wings as it rounded on him and Teodora, jaws snapping with a sound like breaking wood, sending little shockwaves through the air.

Teodora gasped, shaking, eyes huge in her white face. No wonder. The thing was vast, draconic. It towered over them, twice Heisenberg's height, a nightmare of tumorous flesh and eldritch elegance, the hunched torso on its back haloed by masses of ropy tentacles. To Teodora's eyes she must look like a monster from the end-times, some harbinger of apocalypse and ruin.

"Get inside!" Heisenberg yelled at her. A claw lashed forward; he cracked it away with the lamp-post. Teodora snapped back the rifle bolt and fired again, pocking a crater in the monster's side. "What the hell are you doing? I said get inside before this thing uses you to pick its teeth." "I can get it-" Another shot. The monster slashed out at Heisenberg again, laughing- laughing! Fuck her! Its claws screeched a fantail of sparks off the lamp-post, sizzling against the snow. Heisenberg stumbled back. Strong or not, power obeying him or not, she outweighed him like a tank outweighed a rat.

"I can kill it!" Teodora screamed.

Her voice sliced to his core- desperate, yes, determined, but brittle too, and he couldn't help but look her way, to meet her wide, wild eyes, the hunger there, sharp as a knife.

Mistake. The monster's next blow ripped his makeshift hammer from his hands. It shot through the air like a javelin and embedded itself into the side of the church in a cloud of snow and stone dust. Before Heisenberg could summon it back, pressure slammed into his abs, hard. It flung him off his feet; he was weightless, spinning, the world reduced to pain and cold.

He hit ground and slid, carving a furrow in the snow. His head met a gravestone and bashed him into momentary stupor. When it cleared, he was halfway up the hill, and Teodora faced the monster alone.

Its jaws splayed wide. Blood and thick, glutinous strands of saliva swung from its teeth. Teodora fired into its gullet, one shot, another. The monster laughed and laughed. Fuck, it would eat her alive.

Heisenberg hooked his power onto a metal fence and yanked himself to his feet. Pain splintered through him- a rib, he thought- but he made himself run, made himself scramble, crawl, pull himself toward her-

A gunshot split through his focus. A small figure rose from the mist, Heisenberg's abandoned pistol in her hands.

Emilia.

"Get the hell away from my sister!" she cried.

She fired again. Again. One shot burst a golden eye like rotten fruit. The vast jaws swung away from Teodora, the monster's attention drawn.

"No-"

Teodora was on her feet, rifle abandoned, pelting for her sister. Too slow. As Emilia fired again, the monster lunged for her. Its jaws opened, opened and opened, spreading so wide it looked as if the beast's whole forequarters might peel apart-

They closed, clashing around the girl. A powerful leap sent the beast into the skies.

With a beat of its wings, an echo like thunder, both girl and monster were gone.

***

"Emilia!" Teodora screamed.

She sprinted upslope, shoving herself along on gravestones and walls. "Emilia!" She stumbled, collapsed to one knee. "Emilia-"

She dropped to her palms, shoulders heaving. The world smelled of gunsmoke, of blood and mold. Squirming dark liquid covered her parka and boots, her hair, sprung from its braid and matted with sweat. Heisenberg stood a few yards off, watching her. His Cadou had quieted down; his power went with it, closing him off once again from metal. He thought he was beginning to understand that. He scrubbed his palm over his face, paused, then approached.

"That monster-" he began.

"Shut up," Teodora said between her teeth.

"Your sister-"

"Shut up!" She spun to her feet and stalked toward him, her hands in fists. "If you'd been faster, if you hadn't stopped me-"

"You'd be dead, Teo, you stupid bitch."

"Don't call me that." She was up in his grill now, tears cutting tracks through the mold, her face contorted with grief. "Don't you dare call me that."

"Then fucking listen to me, Teo-"

Her fist cracked into his face so hard he did actually shut up. He grabbed her wrist and twisted, hard; she screamed as bones ground in her arm. Heisenberg flung her back against a grave.

"Stay down," he ordered.

She didn't. She was back on her feet and on him in seconds, punching every piece of him she could get her fists on. He shoved her off, but she came back again, again, sobbing. There was nothing in her eyes but a hollow darkness. She wasn't seeing him anymore. She wasn't here.

A ripple shook the snow. Black tentacles burst from the ground between them. Teodora was flung away, sent tumbling to the ground. Heisenberg began forward, but tentacles wound around both his wrists, jerking him to a halt.

As they touched him-

A flash. A forest, night, howling with snow.

Two girls struggling from the ruins of a burning house. The flames lit the snow garish. A howl filled the wind; the elder girl clapped her hand over the younger one's mouth.

Behind them-

A trail of blood.

The flash of memory was gone as fast as it had come. Heisenberg looked up. Rose stood a short way off, hand raised. The wind lifted her hair from her shoulders. She stared, brow furrowed, at Heisenberg and Teodora, at the nest of writhing black tentacles growing from the snow like some strange plant. The granny and a few other women from the kitchen hurried after her, but Rose paid them no mind.

"Kid," Heisenberg growled. "You shouldn't be out here."

Rose lowered her hand as her caretakers caught up to her. The tentacles fell away, disintegrating into nothingness.

Teodora crawled off. She stopped at the feet of the decapitated stone angel. Its head lay at her knees. She bent over it.

"Dora," Andrei panted. He stopped with his rifle aimed at Heisenberg. "You okay? What happened?"

"It got her," Teodora whispered. "It got-"

She didn't go on. She clutched her arms around her midsection and doubled over. Heisenberg looked at Rose. She didn't seem to have aged while he was gone. In fact, she looked better. Color bloomed in her cheeks, and when she met his eyes, hers were steady and clear.

"Rosie?" Heisenberg said, quietly.

"I feel better," she said. Her voice was silvery, soft. "They helped me feel better." She reached up and took the granny's hand. The older woman's head was bent, her eyes closed, one hand to her heart.

Heisenberg nodded, paused, considered, then approached Teodora. She was praying, he realized, a small medal clutched in one hand.

"Teodora," he said. "Your sister's alive."

Her shoulders curled in. "Don't mock me."

"I'm not. That monster takes girls, doesn't it?" Teodora didn't speak, but she did lift her head a little. "Fuckin'- Maria or whoever else your sister said. It carries them off, huh?"

"Yes," Teodora said.

Another pause.

"I know her," Heisenberg said. "I've known her a long time. Too fuckin' long. Her name is Lady Alcina Dimitrescu."

Old hatred reared inside him as he spat her name, hot and stifling, bordering on obsession. Super-sized bitch. Thought she was Miranda's favorite, thought if she bowed the lowest she'd escape their mother's wrath. Hard to bow low when your head was so far off the ground.

Winters brought her down, had shot to kill. And now, against all odds, she was back. She, out of all of them, had survived.

This really was his personal hell.

"I thought she was dead," Heisenberg said. "Thought she was done and crystallized. Just my fucking luck."

"She was one of you four?" Teodora said. She touched the decapitated angel's stone tears. "The Lady of Blood. I see. A place of blood and death..."

"So you've heard those stories too."

"My grandmother's contemporaries, girls she knew...they went to work in the next valley. There were no jobs here, so they had to leave. They never came back."

"Lots of bad things can happen to a young girl, where I come from," Heisenberg said. "But if Dimitrescu's here, if she's taking girls..."

He remembered the first time Dimitrescu had brought her daughters before Miranda. Bela, Cassandra, Daniela. Three pretty girls from the village, pretty things she'd hand-picked for their strength and beauty, pretty things she'd sliced open and fed to the Cadou. They weren't people anymore, not after she was done with them. They'd sparked at his senses, no single entity but a gestalt amalgamation of flies, impossible to focus on within the warp of his magnetism. They weren't people, but Alcina had loved them like they were.

Maybe that was the same thing.

A perfect affinity, Miranda whispered, stroking his face as he cried.

"Her girls died," Heisenberg said, so softly he barely heard himself speak. "Guy I knew killed them. Now...maybe she's just hungry. But if that was all, she'd go after me, she'd go after fuckin'...wossname..." He clicked his fingers, then pointed. "-Andrei over there."

Teodora turned a little. One of her dark eyes was visible, watching him over her shoulder. "She wants my sister and the other women as...what? Pets?" she asked.

"Something to love, maybe," Heisenberg said.

Teodora drew the horn-handled revolver from her side. It looked even older close up, its grip worn in a five-count pattern, silver inlay pocked with tarnish. She flicked the chamber open, gave it a spin, flicked it shut again.

"We can help Rose," she said. "While you were unconscious, venerat Anca-" She nodded to the old woman. "-treated her with a medicine we make around these parts. Old medicine. It can keep off the wolf-sickness. Helps make men of monsters."

"Some kind of anti-mutagen?" Heisenberg said.

"Holy water," Teodora said, with another rare glint of humor. "It'll slow her growth if she keeps taking it. She should stabilize."

"So give her more."

"That's the thing. Anca gave her all we had. We can make more, but the herb we need doesn't grow in town."

She stood, stepping over the angel's head and crossing to the edge of the graveyard. She pointed toward one of the mountains that cupped the town like a pair of hands.

"There," she said. "Holy men grew it on ritual ground. It's a kind of pilgrimage, to go and gather it from the ruins."

"An, uh, pilgrimage you've made?"

"Once," Teodora said. "Yes."

She faced him. "We get the herb, we can help Rose. Once I get my sister back, I'll go gather it myself-"

"Hey, hey, now," Heisenberg said with a chuckle. "Your order of events is a little screwed up. Dimitrescu's probably having a nice fancy tea-party with your sister, already picking out her new name. Rose needs this medicine stuff more than you need your sister back."

Fire flashed in Teodora's eyes. "And if you're wrong?"

"Then you won't have to worry about Emilia either way."

He thought she might punch him again. She didn't. She drew herself so close he saw the glitter of salt on her skin.

"I know you don't work," she told him. "That something's wrong with you, inside. That you're no holy creature. Just a man. And you're scared."

He grinned, as big as he could, the kind of smile wolves gave to little rabbits. "That makes two of us, buttercup," he whispered.

Neither backed down. Teodora looked past him, at Rose, then closed her eyes. Something seemed to tighten inside her, and when she opened her eyes again that coldness was back, a hard look that Heisenberg figured she needed to get the job done.

"We get the herb," she said. "We leave at the midday bell. Be ready."

She brushed past him and headed back toward the church. Heisenberg caught Andrei's eye. "Hey," he said. "You got any scrap metal around here?"