#i love the little details in both films they just scream out to me

[melishatweedy]

Hi, What is your opinion of Melisha Tweedy’s new outfit and makeover from Chicken Run: Dawn Of The Nugget (2023)?

I just love the obvious difference between both her looks!

In the first film we have the slick back bun, the muddy boots. You can see the constant tired look on her face, she’s burnt out and run down from the farm. She’s got no time for appearance as she’s too busy running a failing farm with her husband, no extra help or staff. Her outfit itself is very fitting for the time era (50s) in England, post war where most working class people are in poverty just trying to live. I love the colour too.

((Where she got the money for the pie machine beats me. Probably like a buy now pay later scheme through a catalogue as that’s how most items were bought back then. (1950s Klarna.. yer chicken sells avon) ))

Then we have the second film. She’s away from the farm, married to a rich man with lots of wealth. She’s got her hair done,makeup etc. the clothing again is very fitting for the time era (now we’re in the 60s). She’s got time for personal care and money for her clothing. She’s a successful business woman, you can clearly tell by her looks. She’s managed to let go of past ties (until ginger comes back) which is why she’s more smiley (and goofy) but still got her morals about her. The slight tone difference of her dress for me indicates that she’s still the same Mrs Tweedy.. but also different and I love that.

[nikibogwater]

Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.

It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.

The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.

Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.

There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.

Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*

Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.

Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.

Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.

Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.

[merthosus]

Don't kiss the cast members

Summary: You never had a problem with any of the cast members of the umbrella academy, except Aidan. You two couldn't stand each other since the first time you met. You were always good at ignoring him but the directors crashed the plan, by making you the love interest of the character Five Hargreeves. But as the day came you needed to train with him everything changed.

Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

"This.. this wasn't wrote in the script"

Chicago, 9:20 am, you were walking outside the set with a coffee in your hands. It was cold, so the warmth of the cup made your heart flutter with happiness. It was always the smallest things that made you feel pride. You looked down at your chamber red nails while walking through the security guards. You didn't need to show them your ID; they knew you. After two years of being in the show, everyone knew everyone.

You loved attending the set, being surrounded by the most varied people, but today was different. Your stomach hurt, and your hands were slightly shaking. Knowing why your body reacted like that was easy. But your determination and the wish to earn money had driven you to attend the set today. You needed to remind yourself that this was a big part of your job... doing things you didn't want to do. You needed to swallow the pill, and you should be good to go.

Your thoughts went crazy as you said hello to the makeup artist. She was tugging at you here and there, putting little needles in the top you wore. You had been an actor for a few years now, so kissing in front of a camera was not that big of a deal for you, but kissing someone you didn't like was a little bit challenging.

The story of your character was pretty simple—not being that much in the limelight, operating in the shadows of the show. She was the daughter of the Handler, stalking Number Five and looking out for him as the Handler instructed her. The depth of the character was very interesting, so playing her was really an honor, especially because it was the biggest show you had ever been allowed to be on.

"You are ready, you like it?" she asked me. I nodded and smiled. "Thank you, this is very good work, as always," I told her. This was one of your rules: to appreciate the work people do for you, always trying to be nice to everyone. As you stepped out of the container, you saw Aidan walking by. He saw you too and headed in your direction. "Hi, you ready for the rehearsal?" he asked you. To be honest, this was the only thing you liked about him—he was always professional.

"Course, where you want to rehearse?" you asked him. He told you to follow him to Set 36. You knew the set from previous film scenes. Watching the others play was also a pretty big part of your job. You didn't need to, but you liked watching them, learning from their abilities. Robert Sheehan was one of the actors you looked up to; how he acted out his character was astonishing.

As you both walked to the empty set, neither of you even tried to make small talk. Your steps were loud as you walked with him, you read the script again and tried to memorize every little word. The set was very detailed; it was Five's room. You sat down on his bed and continued to read. "You ready?" he asked me. You nodded, laid the script aside, and positioned yourself better on the bed. The scene you needed to play was simple. You get into an argument, and then you kiss him. His part was to reject you and then walk out of the room. That's it—very simple. "Alright," you said while shaking your arms to prepare.

"Go on," you said, and Aidan got into his role. "STOP IT! Stop stalking me, you crazy little shit!" he screamed and walked around the room until he came to a halt at his desk. "I... I am not stalking you!" you yelled. He leaned himself onto the desk behind him. "I saw you following me several times!" he said angrily. Just now, you noticed how his jawline was nearly perfectly shaped—he could cut papers with that thing. You didn't answer him and just stared him down. Suddenly, he jumped away from the table and walked right in front of you.

He looked down at you. This was the moment. "I just... I can't explain," you said your last line. You could feel your heart pounding, like it demanded to get out of your torso. Your hands were shaking as if you had just drunk five espressos and two Red Bulls. "Explain, or I don't want to see you ever again," he whispered. You got up from the bed and stood before him. You felt like it was the first time you ever auditioned. You were as scared of this day as you were then. Without thinking and pushing your anxiety away, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips onto his.

Although you hated him with every muscle in your body, your whole stomach filled with butterflies as your lips landed on his. He tasted bittersweet, like he had just drunk coffee, and a little bit of woodsy cologne made him taste like that too. You waited for him to push you away, like it was written in the script. He was supposed to push you back onto the bed and leave, so you prepared for the fall. But he didn't.

He began to let his puffy lips roam over yours. It felt like you were flying straight to heaven. As you began to stroke his cheek with your thumb, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You let your hand travel around his neck, pushing your fingers into his dark hair. As your fingernails scratched his scalp, he opened his mouth wider, and you let your tongue sneak into his mouth. His lips felt like cushions pressing against yours.

You gasped as he let his hand fall, landing on your butt. But as soon as his lips connected with yours again, you couldn't think anymore. His other hand continued to travel up and down your waist, exploring every inch. He pushed your abdomen further into his, causing your head to tilt back slightly. He noticed and grabbed your neck harshly, pushing your head forward as he continued to let his tongue dance in your mouth, tasting you like ice cream.

You felt every last bit of oxygen leave your body, so you pushed your head away. The sudden feeling of leaving his lips made your whole body shudder with coldness. "This... this wasn't written in the script," you said, stuttering. "Then, unfortunately, we have to do this again," he said with a wide grin on his face. "Asshole."

Thank you for reading my love :) Here leading you to part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/merthosus/759274024052375552/dont-kiss-the-cast-members-summary-you-never?source=share

[remlionheart]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡MDNI ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

ᡣ𐭩 I really have no excuse for this tbh, it’s midnight and I’m ovulating and overly eager boyfriend Yuuji was heavy on my mind 🙂‍↕️💫 ((aged up characters)) yuujixfem!reader ᡣ𐭩

yuuji who just loves touching you 24/7. whose hand is always so eager to brush across your skin, he often forgets his surroundings.

the two of you are on his couch one night with some b-grade horror movie that he and junpei wanted to watch playing in the background. junpei’s sitting on the floor next to you guys, both of them going back and forth with so many trivial facts about the film you don’t even see how they’re paying attention to it.

your eyes are heavy, your body spooned against yuuji’s with a throw blanket loosely covering you. his fingers are running through your hair, him and junpei still going on and on - something about the director’s cut and an alternate ending when suddenly, his other hand is wedging itself between your thighs.

playing with the opening of your shorts as your eyes dart to his from over your shoulder. he grins back at you, holding a finger to his lips. junpei continues to stare at the screen in front of him, completely unaware of the other show that’s about to start promptly behind him.

the movie flickers across the grainy tv screen, an eerie piano melody echoing across the room while the main girl finds herself lost and alone in a dark forest as a thunderstorm starts. you’re doing everything you can to focus on the details of it. to avoid flinching from the way yuuji spreads you apart. his two thick fingers tentatively grazing along your folds, gathering up slick you didn’t even realize was there causing you to grind further into him. your back arching so perfectly it makes his cock twitch.

you close your eyes, pretending to be asleep in case junpei decides to look up at either of you. you know he probably won’t given how entranced he is by this director - but still! this is reckless, even for your perpetually-ready-to-make-you-cum boyfriend.

yuuji keeps somehow talking though. keeps laughing and acting like his dick isn’t hard as a fucking rock and pressed firmly against your ass as he begins to lazily play with your clit, drawing heavenly circles that have you suddenly biting at the side of your hand to keep yourself from letting out a dangerously suppressed moan.

you do your absolute best to pretend you’re still asleep, carefully rolling over to face him as he continues to nonchalantly toy with you. lightly running uppp and downnn your slit. you feel like you’re going to explode, pathetically attempting to pass off a whimper as a yawn when you feel him start to prod at your entrance.

“aw, she’s tired huh?” junpei comments.

“yeah,” yuuji smiles, biting back a laugh at the way your mouth drops open and you eyes nearly cross when he finally slips a finger into you. “she’s pretty spent.”

a chase scene ensues, the loud stomps and suspenseful music of the killer running after his victim being enough to cover up the wet, squelching sounds of yuuji’s fingers slamming blissfully into your gummy walls.

he smiles at you again, mouthing “it’s okay, it’s okay.” as his fingers go deeper, but slower, hitting that spot you like at just the right angle.

“hey junpei, sorry to ask but - would you mind grabbing me a beer?”

“oh yeah, of course” he says, getting to his feet.

the moment he’s out of the room, yuuji’s suddenly knuckles deep again, your needy little cunt clamping around him so nice and snug while your eyes and body both plead with him.

he lets his mouth catch all of the cute, desperate noises you can’t hold back anymore, his tongue swirling against yours feverishly while you struggle to keep your voice down. luckily though, your lewd whines seem to blend perfectly into the screams coming from the tv.

“your pussy’s so soft ‘n so pretty, y’know that?” he whispers, reeling in the way you’re drenching him. “i could play with it forever if you’d let me.”

his words make you dizzy, your body instantly wanting him back where he was as he pulls out and licks his fingers clean from the mess you made, letting out his own little groan at your taste. “you’ll get the whole thing later, don’t worry.” he promises, placing a light kiss on your forehead right as junpei re-enters the room and hands him his beer.

“what all did i miss?”

“not much,” yuuji muses, cracking open his drink. “he finally got her off…”

your heart stutters in your chest, your knee swiftly nudging his.

“…the path she was on.” he finishes, swallowing down his beer. “she was soaked by the time he caught up to her.”

you softly pinch him, feeling him smile as junpei laughs, none the wiser.

the two of them continue on with their banter while you actually do doze off this time. yuuji’s hand gliding across your neck as he silently begins counting down the minutes until he gets to bury himself inside of you again.

he just can’t help it :((( he loves touching you.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Red Carpet || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

Summary: Tom takes you to your very first movie premiere and it happens to be the movie that he is the protagonist in. A sweet moment happens between the two of you which leaves fans further fangirling over your relationship.

A/n: I have been constantly asked If I will ever do a Tom Blyth x reader imagine and the answer is yes :). Btw I absolutely love @yzzart’s Tom Blyth x actress!reader imagines and you should totally go check them out!

Warnings: none :)

Wc:

Divider by @pommecita

You were beyond nervous and excited to attend the red carpet Premiere for The Hunger Games The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Especially since you would be attending as your boyfriend’s plus one who happens to play Coriolanus Snow in said movie.

The two of you kept your relationship as private as you could, but at some point along the way of him filming, everyone knew the two of you were together. Your public affection towards each other during the behind the scenes did not go unnoticed by fans who recorded it and took pictures.

It was bound to happen someday. "You look absolutely gorgeous, darling," Tom hugs you from behind, your exposed back flush against his outfit, as he admires your reflection in the mirror. You hold his arms that were protectively on your waist.

"Thank you, Tom. You look as handsome as ever," You giggle, turning around to place your hands on either side of his face, admiring every little detail on his face that you have already noticed about a thousand times, before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

You two were on your way to the event, his hand never left your thigh as you lean your head against his shoulder. Your phone suddenly buzzed as you look at the caller id. It was Rachel. You immediately answered it as it went through to face time.

"Where are you guys!" She yells in the speaker, loud chatter in the background. She was already at the event. "We are literally around the corner," You say taking a look around your surroundings as Tom chuckles. "Let me see your outfits!" Rachel stares at you with a wide grin.

You laugh at her energy as you pass Tom the phone as he holds it up so that the both of you were on screen. Rachel gasps as she covers her mouth, "You guys look fucking amazing!" She squeals as you chuckle.

"Wait until you see the back of Y/n's dress," Tom lets out a whistle as you nudge him with a smile. "I can't wait to see! Oh wait, I think I see your car pulling up right now. See you soon!" She quickly says before hanging up.

Tom squeezes your thigh, his way of asking if you were alright without any words. You nod with a small smile. You arrived at the premiere and the flashlights coming from the cameras shone through the windows.

Tom steps out first before lending you his hand, aiding you as you get out of the car. He gives you an encouraging smile as you smile back at him. Everyone started screaming when they saw the two of you, causing you to smile even more.

His hand rested on the small of your back as the two of you were whisked into interviews. "Tom! It's so great to see you, we'd like to ask you a few questions if that is alright?" The woman smiles as she passes Tom a microphone.

"Of course!" Tom offers the man a smile. "What was your favourite things about filming this movie?" You stayed quiet as you look at Tom, giving him a smile. "Well, I was super grateful to be able to work with such incredible actors and actresses, Peter and Viola just to name a few, I really enjoyed the atmosphere on set, we were all like family," Your boyfriend answers.

You saw a lot of cameras pointed your directions so you wave and smile, "Would you like to explain to us and your fans who this beautiful girl is beside you Tom?" You snap your attention back to Tom and the woman. Tom smiles as you as you look at the woman. "I think you and everyone already have a pretty clear idea on who she is," Tom laughs as does the woman.

"This beautiful girl is my girlfriend. She's stuck with me during the whole filming of the movie and I'm so grateful that she's mine," He answers, his eyes not leaving yours as he pulls you closer to him. "He's just too sweet isn't he?" You chuckle at the camera making them laugh.

Tom presses a kiss on your cheek as you could feel your face heating up slightly. "You two are just too adorable! Thank you for your time, the woman smiles as Tom hands her back the microphone. "My pleasure," Tom gives her a final smile before the two of you are once again whisked into other interviews, where you would sometimes be included.

Then it was time to take pictures. Tom's hand never left yours as you both stood where they were taking the photos. Tom protectively places his hand on your waist as you both pose for the cameras. You were almost blinded by all the flashing and deaf from the shouting.

The string on the back of your dress suddenly became loose as you curse under your breath. Tom looks down at you before moving to stand in front of you in a protective manner to cover you from the cameras. "You okay?" He asks concerned. I look at him with a smile from his sweet gesture.

"The back of my dress came undone," He looks over your shoulder. He then pulls you into a hug as you were slightly taken back. You then feels his hands working on tying your dress back. You let out a chuckle as you rub his back.

The cameras directly in front of you were confused but the cameras by the side all awed at his actions. "There you go, darling," He kisses your cheek as he pulls back. You give him a grateful smile, "Thank you."

"Y/n! Tom!" You hear a feminine voice call out as Rachel and Josh make their way towards the two of you. "Hi!" You smiled, pulling Josh into a hug and then Rachel. "Oh you look stunning," Rachel holds your forearms as you couln't keep the smile of your face.

"Have you looked in a mirror? You look gorgeous Rach!" You pull her in for a second hug as you all laugh at something funny Josh had said as the four of you pose for a picture.

After the premiere, Rachel sent you so many links to nearly every single social media platform. There were a bunch of posts and tiktoks about what happened with your dress and how Tom helped you by hugging you.

You chuckle as you show Tom the posts and hundreds of tiktoks that had already been posted. "They love you," Tom chuckles, kissing your forehead as the two of you lay in each others embrace.

[skywlkrhoney]

The echo of the dead

Scott Barringer x Fem!reader

Jepeers Creepers!AU

Terror, angst

Warnings: Explicit deaths (not Scott or reader), panic attack, a demonic creature hunting and killing teenagers (Scott being a great, protective boyfriend)

Author’s Note: I just LOVE this movie — it’s one of my favorite classic horror films. So I thought, “Why not mix two things I adore?” In this imagine, I changed a bit of the original plot and also renamed one of the main characters, Scott Braddock, to Jack, just so your beautiful little heads don’t get confused. Hope you enjoy!!

It was supposed to be just a school trip for the basketball team.

In broad daylight, everyone was excited—Scott and the other guys were singing loudly, while Minxie, Rhonda, Chelsea, and I laughed at their antics. Everything was going well. Everything was fine. Until that bone-made throwing star pierced one of the bus tires.

Now, the sun had vanished from the sky, replaced by a deep darkness, illuminated only by the moon and stars. That horrid creature was flying above us, over the bus—which was now completely destroyed: shattered windows, the roof torn open by a grotesque drill, and our friends’ bodies scattered on the ground, mercilessly killed.

Scott, Rhonda, Jake, Minxie, and I were crouched between the seats. Rhonda was hiding with Jake in the aisle ahead of us, and Minxie was in the seats beside us. Scott’s arms were around me, trembling, just like I was. Both my hands covered my mouth, trying to prevent any sound from escaping. My cheeks were wet with tears that wouldn’t stop falling—tears of pure fear.

I flinched at every little noise—the distant crack of something breaking, the sound of the wind hitting the broken windows, the metallic creak coming from the roof. Everything made me shudder. Scott held me tighter, as if he wanted to protect me from all of it. I felt him gently press his face against the side of my head and, with a slow and tender kiss, he whispered in my ear:

“We’re going to be okay. We’ll get out of here, I promise…”

He lifted one hand and began to gently stroke my hair; his touch was almost like an antidote to the panic. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to explode inside me, and just nodded, too scared to speak. A muffled sob escaped, low and stifled between my fingers.

Then, the ground trembled slightly. The bus vibrated entirely, as if something very heavy had landed on it. The silence that followed was dense, suffocating. Everyone held their breath at the same time.

Then, like a nightmare taking shape, he appeared.

The deformed silhouette of the Creeper emerged through the rear window, his eyes glowing a sickly red under the moonlight. The creature pressed its monstrous face against the cracked glass, scanning the bus’s interior, sniffing out fear. Panic was immediate. Everyone stood up at once, running toward the front exit, bumping into seats, shoulders, and stumbling in desperation.

Jake was pulling the door latch hard, but it was stuck, as if fear had materialized there too, in the details. Rhonda looked back—and her choked scream came out as a ragged sob. The Creeper was now inside the bus, crawling upside down along the ceiling like a hellish spider. Its clawed feet scraped the metal, making a sharp, cutting sound.

“Hurry, Jake!” Scott shouted, going to help him.

With a dry snap and painful creak, the door finally opened, revealing the night. A strong wind blew into the bus, as if calling them.

“Run!” Jake shouted, pulling Rhonda by the hand. 

We all ran into the field, our feet sinking into the uneven ground, not looking back, thinking only of escaping that cursed creature. The bus was left behind like a war scene, a tomb of memories we’d never forget.

And the Creeper… he was coming after us.

He exited through the opening in the bus roof—that grotesque drill he had created—and watched us as if we were mere pieces in his demonic game. The Creeper’s eyes scanned the field with sadistic calm, as if he knew that no matter where we ran, he would eventually find us.

Scott held my hand tightly, keeping me close as we ran side by side. Our feet sank into the dry, rough ground. We were silent, but terror roared inside. Then we heard the sound. The unmistakable sound of wings cutting through the wind. Strong. Fast.

I didn’t have the courage to look back.

I just kept running, aimlessly, until we spotted a seemingly abandoned barn in the distance. It was old, with creaking wood and broken windows—but it looked like a refuge.

Suddenly, behind us, I heard a strangled scream, a sound that cut through the air and made my blood instantly freeze. My body stopped instinctively, and I turned around. And there they were. Rhonda and Jake, my friends… their necks pierced by those same bone-made throwing stars—the same ones that had punctured the bus tires earlier.

A desperate scream escaped my throat, involuntary. Tears flooded my vision, and for a moment, I couldn’t move.

“Run!” Scott shouted, pulling me back to reality. “Let’s go!”

I ran.

We entered the barn, breathless, consumed by a fear that no longer fit in our chests. We desperately searched for a place to hide until we found a corner between hay bales and loose boards—a narrow, tight space that would protect us for now. We squeezed in there, clinging to each other.

It was only when the adrenaline began to subside that everything hit me at once.

I started to cry. They weren’t silent tears; they were trembling, uncontrolled sobs. My whole body shook as scenes of the deaths replayed in my mind: the blood splattering, the echo of the dead, the screams that still echoed in my ears. Each one was a memory too painful to bear.

Scott hugged me tightly, wrapping his arms around me. He lowered his head and rested it against mine, not saying a word for a few seconds, just breathing with me. He was comforting me, but I knew… he had lost friends too. He was also shattered inside. But even so, he was protecting me. He was putting his pain aside to take care of mine.

I felt him take off his team jacket and place it over my shoulders, wrapping me up. It was warm, smelled like him—earth, sweat, and something familiar. I was trembling less now.

“I’m here with you…” he whispered, almost like a prayer.

We stayed like that for hours. Sitting on the cold floor, leaning against the aged wooden boards, holding onto each other as if we were the last refuge for one another. The night outside seemed endless.

At some point, my eyes began to grow heavy. My sobs ceased, turning into broken sighs. I dozed off there, on Scott’s chest, while he absentmindedly ran his fingers through my hair, staying awake, watching, protecting.

A dry noise outside—a mix between the creak of a stepped-on board and the muffled dragging of feet—startled me awake. My body reacted before my mind could understand what was happening. I sat up with a jolt, heart racing, and looked at Scott, who was already on high alert. He slowly rose, crouching, eyes fixed on the barn entrance. He extended an arm backward, creating a protective barrier, keeping me hidden behind him.

My breath caught in my throat. The ensuing silence seemed eternal—until two figures emerged from the shadows.

“It’s us!” said a muffled, almost desperate voice.

It was Chelsea, her face dirty, eyes brimming with tears. And right behind her, Andy, also breathless, clothes torn with dirt and sweat, his face covered in blood.

An overwhelming relief washed over me. I stood up, staggering, and before any words were spoken, Chelsea ran to me and hugged me tightly, holding me against her chest.

“I thought you were dead…” she whimpered against my shoulder, squeezing me as if to make sure I was real.

“I thought you guys…” my voice faltered, and all I could do was hug her back with all the strength I had left.

On the other side, Scott quickly embraced Andy, and without wasting time, he whispered urgently:

“Minxie found help. A man—I think it’s the Taggarts. They’re on the other side of the field.”

The mention of Minxie being alive made my chest tighten. Scott looked at me with determination, wrapped his arm around my waist, and helped me stand up completely.

“Let’s go,” he said without hesitation.

We left the barn quickly, careful not to make too much noise. The stars still blanketed the sky, but a faint gray glow was beginning to stretch along the horizon—dawn wasn’t far off.

The moment we stepped into the open field, my body froze.

There he was. The Creeper.

His grotesque, twisted body lay motionless on the ground. A long spear pierced straight through his chest, pinning him into the grass. Standing beside the creature was an older man with a hardened expression and eyes locked on the monster—old Taggart. Even wounded, he held the spear firm, his gaze steady with the resolve of someone who had waited a long, long time for this moment.

Around him, the few kids who had made it out alive were falling apart. Minxie was on her knees, hands over her face, crying softly. The others whispered, some in shock, some trying to comfort each other—but none of them looked like they truly believed we’d survived.

The tense silence was broken by a hoarse, guttural shout—Taggart.

He gripped the spear with both hands, arms trembling from the effort, eyes locked on the fallen creature. The Creeper didn’t move, but that didn’t satisfy him. With a roar full of years of hate, he drove the spear deeper into the monster’s chest.

And again.

And again.

Each stab came with a wet, sickening sound—bones snapping, flesh—or whatever passed for it—being ripped apart. It was brutal. Merciless. But no amount of revenge could ever bring back the ones we’d lost.

I couldn’t keep watching.

I turned my face away, eyes clamped shut. The tears came before I even noticed—tears of sorrow, of injustice… for my friends who would never come back, for the screams still echoing in my head, for the memories I’d give anything to erase.

I felt Scott’s big, warm hands gently touch my face. He cupped my cheeks like I was made of glass, pulled me into him, and kissed my forehead over and over again with a tenderness that broke something inside me.

“It’s over,” he whispered against my skin. “It’s over, Y/N. We’re safe now… you’re safe.”

His voice trembled just slightly. I knew he was crying on the inside too, even if he tried to stay strong for me.

That’s when Minxie, still kneeling in the grass, her eyes locked on the fallen creature, spoke—softly, distantly, like she was in a trance:

“He’s not dead… he’s just sleeping.”

“He’ll be back… twenty-three springs from now.”

Everyone turned to her. The air seemed to freeze.

Old Taggart, hands still resting on the spear driven into the Creeper’s chest, looked at us. His face was sweaty, lined with age, and calm with the weight of someone who’d already made peace with his purpose.

“Twenty-three years from now,” he said, voice steady. “I’ll be right here waiting for him. With this aimed straight at his face.”

The field went quiet again.

Only the sound of wind rustling through the trees remained—a dark whisper of what was still to come.

Scott turned back to me, his eyes red from exhaustion and emotion. He didn’t say a word, just pulled me into his arms like the world was still falling down around us and I was the only thing that mattered. The hug wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was steady. Like someone holding on to what they’d nearly lost for good. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in his warmth, his scent, the impossible sense of safety in such a broken night.

And there, in the middle of that field, surrounded by silence and loss, we stayed.

Just two survivors learning how to breathe again.

[azialways]

Hihii :3 small idea but Ronin with a Reader who really enjoys the SAW & Scream franchise, so much so that they know a few fun facts about both and psychoanalyze both!

we all go a little mad sometimes

ronin x scream obsessed reader

cw: no cws!

It was another calm night at home, and you were in your room writing your next story. It was the second installment to your last book, which was heavily inspired by your real romance with Ronin, minus the big, obvious details. Your book was set in a big city, the main character was a journalist trying to get a big hit on an article, so She ventures into the world of serial killing. She tries to do some investigative journalism into the dark web, where she’s connected with a real life serial killer, except she doesn’t know that. She thinks it’s some fanboy or something, until they met in person; where he was standing over a body. The body of her abusive ex boyfriend, and bam, romance. It did good, so here you were writing the next installment.

You heard Ronin come in through the door, he was home early. Not exactly typical for him, but you always appreciated him.

“Hey Ro!” You yelled from your room, you heard his footsteps in the foyer, then approached your room. He creaked the door open, then came in. He saw you hunched over your desk, writing your ass off.

“Hey darlin, are you still writing?” He leaned over your shoulder, his hand going to hold them. “Baby I left you at 9 and you were writing. I hope you took a break.” He spoke, gently massaging your shoulders.

“I did, I took a break for lunch.”

“Is that it? Your brain is gonna melt, darling.” He joked, kissing your head. “How are you going to write if your brain is melted?”

“You’re right. What are you proposing?”

“A horror movie marathon?” He proposed, helping you up from your chair.

“Oh fuck yes. Scream?” You suggested.

“Saw.” He responded.

“Scream.”

“Saw.”

“Scream. Pleaseeeee.” You begged.

“Fine. Just because I love ya.” He sighed, giving in.

“Yay! Did you know that Billy and Stu were supposed to be gay for each other, but because it was the 90s, the writer took it out?” You told him, and he hummed.

“Hm. Not surprising. Those two are the ultimate example of two homoerotic bros with internalized homophobia.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, oh and surprisingly, you and Stu are kinda similar, tall scrawny boys who kill for the funsies because your parents didn’t love you enough!” You spoke, then realizing how harsh that sounded.

“Straight for the kill, damn babe.” He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m not offended.” He reassured you, sitting down on the couch. He pulled up Netflix, scrolling through the possible movies.

“Start with the first one, and work your way through the movies in chronological order.” You told him, and he opened scream 1.

You leaned up against him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Did you know that because of the content in the movie, the school revoked the rights to film?” You told, and he just nodded.

“Interesting.”

“Oh, and that Billy found out from Sidney’s step brother that Sidney’s mom was cheating with his dad.”

“Oh really? Little side lore.”

“Yeah. Y'know I have this whole psychoanalysis on Billy. I did it when I was bored one day.” You pulled your phone out.

“I’ll hear it, cmon. Hit me, writer.”

“Okay so some of my things. Obviously, he’s extremely suppressed, but he’s definitely bi. He has major mommy and daddy issues because of the whole situation with Sidney’s mom, which obviously lead to his going down the path of psychopathy.”

“Sounds similar…ish. I do it for the funsies.” He shrugged, eating some popcorn.

“I know, you’re so quirky and different.” You teased, ruffling his hair.

“Aye! Watch the hair. Now give me something that isn’t said in the movies.”

“Ooh okay. I’m thinking Billy and Stu are definitely stoners, like getting fucked up and fucking level of stoners.”

“Again, they definitely explored each other's bodies.” He agreed,

“Ooh, he’s definitely petty during arguments. He sucks at apologizing. That whole only apologizing to Sidney thing? Total act. He is totally arrogant and petty as it gets.”

“He’s a total dick in the movie to everyone though. Sometimes even to Sidney.” He recalled, pointing it out.

“I guess. Y’Know what? We should just watch the movie.” You proposed, turning the movie back on.

For a while, the two of you sat in silence, Ronin jabbing at the serial killer inaccuracy, and how it was so bullshit because of the lack of actual motive.

“Out of all the shitty horror flicks, at least Scream has a plot that isn’t “Ooh my personality disorder made me do it, or Ooh you stole my boyfriend.” Y’Know?” Ronin commented.

“And the killers actually have personality.” You added, and he nodded in agreement.

“That too.” He then unpaused the movie, and continued watching. You kept jumping at the scares, even though you knew they were coming. Ronin laughed at you every time, making fun of you for being so easy to scare. But the truth is, you enjoyed the moments like these where you two could be a normal couple. Not a serial killer dating a writer, not having to hide, just being two normal people.

“God you would think being with me would give you some kind of tolerance for horror, but damn you’re jumpy.” He teased, pulling you close, and you let him.

“See what I mean by gay? Look at that hold, they’re basically cuddling.” You pointed out the show on screen, and you scoffed. “And people think they’re best friends.”

“I personally think it’s super obvious, I mean those are total bedroom eyes from Stu.” He added, then looking at you the same way.

“God Ro, you’re impossible.”

“What? Would you be the Billy to my Stu?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You wanna be suppressed homoerotic bros?”

“Well I’d rather actually be into you than to use you to get revenge on your mom for fucking my dad, then killing you after having sex with me.”

“What a great summary of Sidney’s character.” You laughed softly, flicking his forehead.

“What? It’s true though. That’s her story to Billy. ‘Some girl I picked up who later on her mom was fucking my dad so now I gotta get rid of her bloodline.” He spoke matter of fact.

“I guess. But no, I would not like for you to die trying to kill me.”

“It would be so romantic though. Me, slowly bleeding to death, your hands coated with my blood. Romantic.” He went on, ranting about how he’d love for you to kill him as a true sign of romance.

“I will not be killing you any time soon, and you know that.” You rolled your eyes.

“Fineeee. You’re no fun.”

“But you love me.”

“That I do.”

He wrapped his arms around you, looking up at the way the TV lit up your face. You looked perfect like this, all in the dim light…and his. He loved that you were his, and his only. He’d hold you and keep you safe for the rest of eternity, even if it meant holding you while you jumped at shitty flicks that weren’t even close to scary.

[daydreamgoddess14]

💫 For Your Consideration - Previews 💫

actor!Bucky x fem!actress!Reader (no use of y/n, l/n, reader is not described in any great detail. I save that for the gowns 💃)

Warnings: Hollywood AU, language, internet nasties, flirty!Bucky, a little power imbalance, age-gap (Bucky is around 40, actress reader is closer to 30 or younger if you prefer 🤭)... more to be added later.

Bucky Barnes, the suave and talented leading man of the 'Winter Soldier' movie series, finds himself on the red carpet circuit during awards season with his latest film 'The Howling Commandos'. But the season takes an unexpected turn when he crosses paths with a mesmerizing newcomer - the actress who has become the talk of Tinseltown with her captivating performance in her most recent film. Sparks fly as they navigate silly season in Hollywood, with a spotlight on their every move will their chemistry ignite a real life romance?

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Next Act >

AUGUST 2025

Notification after notification popped up on the screen, the phone vibrated in your hand without pause as one alert ran into the next, and the next after that, and after that. 

Eventually it began ringing alongside the buzzing and the popups.

You didn’t need to put it to your ear to hear the person on the other end.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Dani squealed, “hang on, hang on, I need to add Lu to the call.”

There was a brief silence and the screams came back in surround sound.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” Lulu cried, “it’s my right of way you prick! Sorry babe, I’m driving.”

“When are you flying out? Do you have to do the panels and conferences and stuff?” Dani cut in over Lulu.

“Do you get to take anyone with you? What about outfits?!” Lulu interrupted.

You put the phone on speaker and left it on the kitchen table while you wandered to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Dani and Lulu bartered back and forth, not immediately registering that you hadn’t joined in the conversation.

“Babe?”

“Are you there?”

“Did she hang up on us? Did you hang up on us?”

“I’m here,” you smiled. “I don’t know anything yet, I literally know as much as you do.”

“I doubt that, it’s your arse on the movie poster.”

“And what an arse it is,” Lulu agreed with Dani.

“Like a peach.”

“I’m going to set up an Insta for it,” Dani declared.

“No, you’re not.” You tell them both firmly.

“Spoilsport.”

“Girl, I’m literally taking you to Toronto with me, do not test me,” you brace yourself for more screaming.

“Both of us?”

“Yep. Can’t go around looking like I just rolled out of bed.” Your comment was drowned out by screams.

You’d met Dani first, firm friends at high school you’d grown apart on leaving - she headed for hairdressing college and you’d gone to a drama school in London. Fate had brought you back together a couple of years later when you’d tripped up the steps of the hair and make up trailer on your latest project, and landed at her feet.

That had been ten years ago.

You’d met Lulu the same ten years previously, in the same hair and make up trailer when she’d been an apprentice make up artist. She’d served her apprenticeship and, like Dani, had gone off to other TV sets but the three of you had stayed in touch.

It was rarely your decision, and you weren’t often given an input, but whenever you were asked if you had a preference for who did your hair and make up, the girls were top of the list. 

You waited patiently for the day when you’d be able to call on them full time, when you’d have a need and requirement to have someone to call 'your team'. When the decision was yours and you could call the shots.

You didn’t want the fame, the money, the status, you just wanted to look after the ones you loved, and to have them by your side throughout the chaos that had filled your life.

For ten years you’d been in bit roles on TV shows - sometimes a dead body, sometimes the main character’s daughter, a few ‘girl in pub number 2’ credits, the bitchy cousin... It had been a slog, but then you’d found a bit more of a groove on the stage. 

The TV work died away in favour of travelling up and down the country, staying three, four, five nights in mid-sized towns and playing in local theatres. 

You’d seen about two thirds of all of the Travelodges and Premier Inns the country had to offer. 

Your dad kept tabs on which ones you were missing.

Plays, musicals, pantos, you’d covered the full quota of stage shows, eaten more meal deals than any nutritionist would recommend, and had broken every toe at least once. 

It was a tiring but happy existence, you were a very minor celebrity with a handful of fans across the country who made an effort to see you in whichever show was touring their town that particular week.

The audition had happened almost by accident. 

Your contract for the touring company of SIX was due to come to an end and you were taking the opportunity of a few days off in London to audition for whatever would come next.

The auditions had all blurred into one another and when you’d bustled backstage two minutes late, an agitated stage hand had practically dragged your coat off you and shoved you onto the stage. 

“Do you know Mein Herr?” The casting agent had called out from the stalls.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” you said confidently, hoping to god that once the music started you’d remember the words.

“When you’re ready then,” they said.

So you’d done it. Belted out your very best Liza Minelli (in jeans and a t-shirt), and then gone on your merry way. 

You scrolled through your phone on the way to the tube, was Cabaret even touring? None of your friends had mentioned it, and you often auditioned for the same things. 

With a shrug, you’d gone on with your remaining days off before getting the train up to Edinburgh to meet up with your current company for one last hurrah zigzagging down the country.

The call had come between the matinee and evening shows while everyone was crowded around a big table at a Pizza Express in Preston.

“If that’s the Moulin Rouge tour, they meant to call me!” Sophia shouted with a grin as you stepped away from the table to take the call.

It was not the Moulin Rouge tour.

“You attended the audition for the Cabaret revival movie?” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, no, I attended the audition for the tour,” you’d assured them.

“There is no tour. We held private auditions last month under the guise of a tour.”

That had shut you up.

You were on a plane the next morning with one of the understudies taking your place.

Life had been a little more wild ever since.

Five months filming in Atlanta, dance lessons, music lessons, singing lessons had all brought you to this point.

Back in London and auditioning for TV and stage stuff as if you hadn’t been away.

Picking up bar shifts to pay the rent.

And now the movie was finished, complete and ready to be shared worldwide.

Ready to screen at the Toronto International Film Festival.

Ready to change your life again.

With the girls still chattering, another call buzzed.

“Girls, I’ve got to go. I think all the appointments they warned me about are starting.” 

You left them to make plans on your behalf and mentally prepared yourself for the next seven months.

[rusalka52]

Tell me I’m pretty

↝completed

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Once news about your upcoming date with Sirius hits Hogwarts every one of your friends seems to be against it. The morning of your date is here and you can’t seem to calm down.

cw: Sirius is a bit of a liar, blood-purist attitudes, mention of period typical homophobia

4.3k words

A/N: This chapter was meant to be them going on the date but I realised it was going to become way too long so I decided to split it into two parts. I’m halfway done with the next part but I wasn’t going to be able to finish it all today and I didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer. I hope you guys enjoy this (slight filler) chapter and don't forget to like, reblog, comments etc. etc. and let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list!!!!

You have witnessed Regulus Arcturus Black scream a total of two times throughout your seven years at Hogwarts. The first time was when he was knocked off his broom by a bludger sent his way by the Hufflepuff team’s beater. You heard him scream as he hit the ground with a loud thud as his broom was knocked out from under him, sending him plunging down. He ended up fracturing his arm in two places. The other time was while you, him and a couple of your mutual friends were sitting under the big oak tree in the courtyard. Regulus’ ear piercing shriek filled the peaceful air as he jumped out of his seat in a panic frantically patting himself. A little spider had landed on his sleeve.

You are about to bear witness to the third time that Regulus will raise his voice.

“YOU’RE GOING ON A DATE WITH WHO?” He screeches, flinging the door to your dorm room open and making you jump in fear. You were sure he was going to rip the door off its hinges from how sudden and rapid his movements were.

“Merlin, Regulus! Can you at least knock!?” You exclaim, staring at him wide eyed, clutching your heart. “I almost had a heart attack!”

“Please, for the love of Salazar, tell me that this Ravenclaw girl was chatting shit and you’re NOT going on a date with my brother.” He says, closing his eyes, rubbing his temples and seemingly doing breathing exercises to calm himself down.

“How did you even get up here?” You ask, ignoring the question.

“I let him in!” Pandora announces coming up behind him and flopping down on her bed, watching the scene unfold in front of her as if it’s a film.

“Ugh Doraaa…” You whine, looking over at the blonde who just smiles in return.

“Sorry, someone has to talk some sense into you.” She shrugs, apologising, very insincerely!

“Mate, please tell me it’s not true. Please!” Regulus begs, grabbing your attention again. You gaze up at him. He was still standing in the doorway of the dorm, white-knuckling the door knob. You take a moment to study him. He definitely looked related to Sirius. Their resting faces always betrayed their arrogance and haughtiness that seemed to almost be innate to all pure-blood families. Despite their similarities, moles littering their faces reminiscent of constellations, grey eyes, raven hair, there were plenty of differences that set them apart. Sirius was taller, slightly more handsome and his hair was a few inches longer, reaching below his shoulders with a tighter curl pattern than his brother. His hair care routine is definitely more detailed and convoluted than his brother’s. His teeth were slightly sharper and his eyes more expressive. Regulus had acne scars staining his cheeks from the amount of time he picked his face and his nails were perpetually bitten, both an obvious symptom of anxiety. His shoulders permanently tensed.

“Well?” He looks at you expectantly.

“It’s… umm, not not true!” You try to reason, averting your gaze, suddenly your overgrown cuticles and chipped nail polish became a hundred times more interesting.

“I hate you!” His voice comes out muffled as he buries his face in his hands. He closes the dorm door and sits on the bed across from yours. Regulus grips your hands in his.

“Listen to me.” You peel your eyes away from your nails and look at the boy in front of you.

“You’re a smart girl but I need to offer you some insight regarding my brother.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “He doesn’t wash his socks, he sleeps in the same dirty, disgusting, sleeveless, cropped New York Dolls shirt and boxers -most nights, sometimes NO boxers-, our poor house elf has to physically drag him away to change his sweaty sheets, and even then he yells at him, so Salazar knows how often he changes them here! Did you also know that he blasts his shitty rock music really loud every day and night? Merlin, how could I forget!? He also has pictures and posters of that ridiculous Harley motorcycle AND half naked muggle ladies all over his walls back home! That Infuriates mother because he used a bloody permanent sticking charm on them! Can you believe the twat!” The boy in front of you takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, another trait he shares with his brother, before continuing his tirade. “He will just use you to get what he wants and then leave you, you must know that! Or, even worse, he might not even show up to the date and mock you the next day. Or, Merlin forbid, you two go to that damned date at Hogsmeade and he will surely get distracted by that ridiculous group of his and he ends up ditching you in favour of hanging out with his bloody mates!!!” Regulus rants growing more and more disgusted with every word. “In conclusion, Sirius is just a repulsive, lustful teenage boy and you should not, under any circumstance, go out with him!” He finishes, getting up and leaving your dorm, not wanting to hear another word from you.

You’ve known and been friends with Regulus since second year so you were well aware that this action meant ‘do whatever you want, but just so you know, I’m right’ but you were truly hoping that this wouldn’t be the case and that Sirius would not prove his brother right.

~

“HE’S GOING ON A DATE WITH WHO?” Marlene exclaims in shock as she walks through the portrait hole, Dorcas, the tattle-tale, trailing behind her. Everyone who was in the Gryffindor common room had turned to look at the two girls waiting to find out who is going on a date with who. Marlene started scanning the room, her eyes finally locking on her target -Sirius- and making a beeline towards him.

Sirius was sitting on the windowsill next to the open window blowing smoke out of it, his cropped Stooges shirt riding up to reveal his happy trail and v line, while James was lounging next to him on one of the sofas, playing with his golden snitch and pretending to pay attention to whatever the History of Magic textbook was analysing. Marlene marched right up to Sirius and stood with her hands on her hips staring daggers at him.

“If you and your little girlfriend want cigarettes, go ask Remus, I'm not giving you anymore of mine.” Sirius says flippantly, not even sparing a glance at the ticked off blonde in front of him. Until she punches him in the stomach.

“What in the bloody hell was that for!?” He exclaims clutching his stomach and bending over as James snickers beside him. Marlene knew that her punch didn’t hurt, Sirius just had a flair for the dramatic.

“Why are people saying you're going on a date with that Slytherin chick?”

“Well, you’re also dating a Slytherin chick but you’re not seeing me throwing punches left and right!”

“So it IS true!? You are unbelievable, Black.” Marlene shakes her head at her friend.

“Gosh, Marlene, why can’t a boy have some fun nowadays!” He exclaims in an over exaggerated tone, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Need I remind you of how horribly you treated her in the hallways the other day? I mean frankly, I just don’t understand why she even agreed to go out with you…”

“Dearest Marlene, you’ll be pleased to find out that she asked, nay, practically begged, to go on a date with me! I am nothing short of a gentleman so, of course, I decided to indulge her.” Sirius, of course, was well aware that what he said was not true; images of him yesterday, on his knees in front of her, kissing her fingers, coming to the forefront of his mind, but the others didn’t need to know that.

“Did she actually?” Dorcas spoke up for the first time, slowly approaching the group from behind Marlene.

“Oh, she speaks! Who would’ve thought!” James comments, giggling, as he and Sirius share a mocking look. Marlene, in defence of her girlfriend, slaps him over the head, promptly shutting the taunting boy up. Dorcas always felt uncomfortable in the Gryffindor tower. She tried to keep her relationship with Marlene low-key -it being the 70s and all-, but she couldn’t help but take notice of people’s judgemental stares when they walked hand in hand, even though they could play it off as just being friends. People could always tell. It didn’t help that she was a Slytherin so there was always an underlying hatred being pointed towards her on the basis of her house. No matter how many times she visited their common room with Marlene she would always hear a hushed “what’s the snake doing here..?” always said in annoyance and disgust. Therefore, Dorcas learned to ignore all the taunting remarks

“Yeah, she practically pleaded like a puppy during detention yesterday. It was quite adorable really.” Sirius shrugs, putting out his cigarette on the cobblestone walls and tossing the butt in a trash can nearby. And this is how easily rumours and misinformation spread through the Hogwarts castle.

~

“Mate, do you actually even fancy her?” Peter asks Sirius later in the boys dorm, munching on a chocolate frog. Remus, the quiet but very necessary voice of reason, was out for the night, curtains drawn and already snoring. The full moon being a few days away always caused him to become lethargic and need more sleep than usual.

“Yeah, Pads, why are you even interested in going out with her?” James questions in a low voice so as not to wake up Remus. “I mean I understand when you just wanted to snog her at the concert, and you got your wish, but a date seems a bit too far, no?”

“Well, she’s completely obsessed with me, so I decided to give the poor girl a chance.” Sirius tries to play it off.

“But wasn’t she the one refusing you the other day, how come she changed her mind so quickly?” Peter wonders.

“Besides, you never even told us what happened at detention yesterday.” James remarks.

“I-uh, well you see,” Sirius stammers, “a true gentleman would never kiss and tell!” He briskly regains his composure trying to not expose his lie. “I just see her as a sort of challenge, you know! It would also be fun to mess with her a bit…” He continues, hoping that the boys would just drop it. Sirius is so thankful for the full moon approaching or else Remus would have definitely noticed his lie and asked him about it later. What Sirius had said wasn’t a complete lie, it was the truth, only slightly bent to fit his needs, and with a few embellishments added to conclude his bad-boy charm.

This was the first time that Sirius had ever even considered dating a pureblood Slytherin, so of course he was slightly on edge. It was something that would totally conform to everything his parents would have wanted for him to do, find a nice pureblood Slytherin girl to date, then marry, then produce an heir for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and this annoyed Sirius to no end, so of course he had to pretend that she was obsessed with him and not the other way around. How could he, the black sheep and rebel of his family, the first Black to ever be sorted into Gryffindor, the one who ran away to stay with a “blood traitor’s” family, possibly want to do something that would appease his family, maybe even make them proud? It was making his head spin.

~

Next morning at breakfast you take a seat next to Regulus who has seemingly cooled off from last day’s diatribe.

“Good morning, have you changed your mind?” He asks, flipping the page of this morning’s Daily Prophet.

You place some pancakes on your plate. “No.”

“Hm, that’s a shame.” And that’s where your riveting conversation ended. He was still bitter because of yesterday it seems.

You two eat in awkward silence for approximately fifteen minutes until your vision suddenly goes black and someone’s dirty hands are covering your eyes.

“Guess who?” You hear Barty laugh obnoxiously behind you.

“Not in the mood, mate.” You shake the brunette off and he sits next to you. Regulus’ coldness had evidently rubbed off on you making you completely disinterested in Barty’s antics. Barty, naturally, saw that as a challenge to cheer you up.

“You’ll never guess what ridiculously laughable rumour I heard this morning by some airhead Hufflepuff girls in the hallway. That you, of all people in this damn castle, asked Sirius Black, the blood-traitor, out on a date to Hogsmeade. As if!” He laughs next to you.

You and Regulus freeze up, the tension in the air, which Barty was seemingly oblivious to, could be cut with a butter knife.

“Oh Salazar, you asked him?” Regulus whines like a petulant child, burying his face in his hands.

“Wait, WHAT?” Barty exclaims, placing his hands around your shoulders and shaking you. “Tell me you’re not actually going and that you're going to stand him up!”

“Erm, well, you see…”

“Merlin, mate… Out of everyone in this castle you chose him!?” At Barty’s exacerbated sigh the three of you peer over at the Gryffindor table. You immediately spot the Marauders, which wasn’t all that difficult seeing as Peter was trying to shoot blueberries in James’ mouth, who in turn hissed and groaned, yelling at the other boy’s poor aim, every time he missed. At 8 o’clock in the morning. Remus, who was sitting next to Peter, was flipping through his copy of Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms while sipping on his morning tea; he appeared far too exhausted to deal with the boys’ hijinks. And Sirius…well, he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to them at all.

His gaze was already fixed on you when your eyes landed on him, and he flashed a blithe grin your way that instantly sent heat rushing to your cheeks and neck. He raises his arm to wave at you and you can't help but take notice of your pink hair tie still wrapped around his wrist. Despite your best efforts to resist, even biting your cheek to distract yourself, Sirius’ smile was too infectious. It wasn’t your fault, you thought defensively. How could a person possibly not return his smile? The way his sharp teeth flashed, the sincerity in his grey eyes, the-

“Oh Salazar, you did ask him…” Regulus buries his head deeper in his hands.

“You are unbelievable!” Barty barks a laugh, slinging an arm around your shoulder teasingly. You're just praying at this point that the earth opens up to swallow you whole.

“Well, seeing as these two love birds will no doubt start courting soon, we should establish some ground rules, don't you agree Reggie?” Barty carries on, talking about you as if you're not even there.

“Don’t talk to me.” Regulus takes a sip of his lukewarm tea and turns his body away from you two.

“Rule number one: You two must keep the public displays of affection to a minimum in our presence, especially in front of poor ol’ Reggie over there, he might have an aneurysm if he sees anything beyond hand holding!” The brunette turns to address you. You do your best to ignore him, biting down on your pancakes.

“Rule number two: Don’t you dare start hanging out with those Gryffindor bellends and inviting them over to our hangouts over the summer. My house has a strict ‘No Gryffindors allowed policy’ as you know.” You hum in mock agreement, a poor attempt of getting him to go back to the Ravenclaw table.

“And now most important rule of all, rule number three: We should under no circumstances leave the two of you unattended for too long, the future heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black simply cannot be born out of wedlock! Walburga, or I suppose your mother-in-law now, would have a fit! Although I’m sure a nerd like Regulus is bound to know a few contraceptive potions to help his brother-dearest out.” Regulus and you grimace and Barty in turn just grins wider.

~

“You alright, mate? You're going to break the fork in half.” James laughs at the way his friend next to him is subconsciously white-knuckling the blameless kitchen utensil in his hand.

“I just don’t like the way his arm has been around her for that long, that’s all.” Sirius says, sucking his teeth and relaxing his grip. “That Crouch boy is nothing but trouble, you know. I’ve seen him hanging around Mulciber, Avery, Rosier and that sort.”

“And here I thought you didn’t fancy this lass that much.” James drawls.

“I don’t.”

“Mhm…” Remus hums in response avoiding the raven haired boy’s burning gaze.

“I would just prefer it that the girl I’m going on a date with isn’t fraternising with to-be death eaters! “

“So you’re not jealous that his arm is wrapped around her?”

“No, Wormtail, I am not jealous.” Sirius makes sure his disagreement is noticed by accentuating his response with a hard kick to Peter’s shin.

~

The rest of the week seemed to fly by, spent in one of three locations; the classrooms, studying in the library, or sleeping in your dorm. And it was now Saturday and your morning alarm was ringing. The morning of your date with Sirius Black. Now that was a sentence you couldn’t believe you were saying. After ruminating on your clothes all week, on Friday you finally managed to pick out an outfit from your wardrobe that you liked and that was weather appropriate. You made sure last night to carefully lay out the clothes on your trunk at the end of your bed so as not to get them wrinkly and to keep them clean. The only thing that remained was to pick out your jewelry and take care of your hair and makeup. Nothing too extravagant you don’t want him thinking that you care too much about this date. He probably doesn’t, anyway.

You finally sit up from your bed and the sight in front of you makes your eyes bulge out of your skull.

“DORCAS!” You scream, effectively waking up every girl in the dorm, maybe even in the entire Slytherin dungeon.

“I hate your bloody cat so much, look at what it’s done!” The cat in question yawns, does a big stretch all over your clean clothes and jumps off your trunk with a meow, her tail flicking behind her. “You have to train the damn thing!”

“Don’t yell at Trixie!” Pandora chastises, rolling over in her bed and covering her head with the pillow.

You sit on the corner of your bed and shake your head.

“I can’t wear this now! My clothes are ruined, there are cat hairs all over them and look at how wrinkly your wretched beast made them!” You look up at your friend, tears nearly brimming your eyes. This date was making you go insane, this was not normal behaviour.

“Dear Salazar, mate, stop being hysterical, here.” Dorcas says, flicking her wand and making your clothes appear good as new. She takes a seat next to you.

“Is everything alright with you..?” Dorcas questions, patting your thigh soothingly. You take a deep breath.

“Yes.” You stand up. “Yes, everything is fine, I need to brush my teeth.” You slam the bathroom door behind you and immediately wash your face. You were working yourself up into a frenzy for no reason, for something that should not even matter to you. Just breathe.

You go on with your morning routine, finishing your makeup and hair, and you put on your outfit.

“Okay girls, how do I look?” You do a spin in front of all your dorm mates, who were sitting in a line on one of the unmade beds. They all clap.

“Wowww.”

“Beautiful.”

“Outstanding!”

You hear their voices chorus in front of you.

“Do you mean that? Or are you just saying that because we’re friends?” You ask them fidgeting nervously with your hands.

“Merlin, why are you so worried about this date? It should be Black who should be nervous, going out with a bird like you!” Dorcas responds reassuringly.

“You’re right, you’re right. Now someone please help me with the clasp of this necklace. I can’t get it closed.” In reality, on every other occasion, you could put the necklace on quite easily, but your sweaty palms were preventing you today. Your body was betraying your anxiety for this date and you didn’t know how to stop it.

Your hands were involuntarily fidgeting with the end of your skirt on your way out from the Slytherin dungeons.

“Mate, you really need to calm down.” Dorcas grabs your upper arm and squeezes it, trying to get you to relax.

“Fuck, I know, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t even like him that much, he’s just a stupid boy!” You close your eyes taking, what seemed to be, the thousandth deep breath of the day.

“It’s natural to be nervous about a first date. I remember the first time I went out with Marlene I nearly threw up on the coach ride to Hogsmeade!”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“You’re right, I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. But don’t worry it’s not like I’m seeing the future, I’m shite at divination, you know that.” She giggles. You two continue walking in comfortable silence until you reach the entrance to the castle.

“Everything will go great, don’t sweat it.” Dorcas hugs you.

“I know.” You reply, your answer muffled by your face being buried in her shoulder, and the pair of you walk outside.

As you make your way towards the gate leading to the path towards Hogsmeade you spot Marlene sitting on one of the benches. The moment she spots her girlfriend a smile lights up her face and she rises from the bench, walking towards you. Your eyes begin to scan the rest of the benches looking for Sirius as the two girls hug and greet each other.

“Hi, Marlene!” You wave at the blonde. “Have you, umm, seen Sirius around?”

“No, love, sorry, but I’m sure he’ll get here soon. The entire Gryffindor tower has had to listen to him wax poetics about you all week, it’s been driving everyone up a wall.”

“Really?” You question, unsure as to whether she’s saying that just to make you feel better or because it’s the truth.

“Yeah! He tried to be nonchalant about the whole thing for the first day but after that he’s been raving about you non-stop! It’s always ‘Oh Marls, have you seen how pretty and soft hair looks today and how her lipstick accentuates her plump lips, isn’t she just ravishing!? Marls, did you notice how quickly she completed her potion first today, and it was perfectly done too, she’s so smart!’ Absolute madman! I started getting sick of you -no offence- but after the twentieth compliment in a row, it becomes a lot, you know.” Heat starts rising to your cheeks. You weren’t aware Sirius was that into you.

“He was borderline worse than how Potter was with Lily, and that’s saying a lot! It was making me want to punch him in the face. But don’t tell him I told you that, he made me promise to not let anyone know” Marlene goes on, frowning and pointing her finger in your face to threaten you jokingly.

“Do you want us to wait with you until he gets here?” Dorcas asks as she looks around trying to spot the boy.

“Oh no, no, there’s no need, I don’t want to keep you two waiting, go have your fun!” You offer the girls a tight lipped smile waving them off with your hand. Marlene’s words had eased your anxiety a bit, but there was still a small voice in the back of your head that was making you squirm. Your palms begin to sweat as the pair leaves.

Your heart drops and a pit begins to form in your stomach as you glance at your watch. He is five minutes late. You agreed to meet at 11:00 and it’s now 11:05. You couldn’t help your racing thoughts. “Regulus was right, he’s not even going to show up, or maybe he’s hiding behind some tree with his mates, ready to jump out and mock me. Salazar, what is wrong with me? I was such a bloody idiot to think that he would want to be seen outside with me. I should just turn around and head back to the castle to save face and I’ll just tell people I felt ill.”

As you do a 180° turn, planning to storm back to your dorm, you run right into someone who is fastly approaching. You gasp and go to step back but you end up missing your footing and you’re about to tumble down when the person’s hand grips your own and his other arm snakes around your waist. You regain your composure standing up now face-to-face with Sirius and you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry for being late, love, James is a cock and he couldn’t remember where he put my favourite cologne. And I’m sorry for spooking you.”

“I- umm, it’s alright don’t worry about it.” You just now notice that his arms are still securely wrapped around your waist, as yours are placed against his biceps, and you pull away from him.

“Shall we go?” You nod your head towards Hogsmeade, avoiding his gaze.

“Mhm.” He hums. “Let’s go.”

tags: @gastroentred @beekeepingageissome @is-it-better-to-speak-or-todie @lolalleins @azure-drag0ness

Likes and reblogs help a lot! If anyone wants to be added to tag list for the last part just let me know!!

Requests: open :D

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

The news came out that the world didn't believe!!! I really loved this chapter, it is my 'xodó' until now.

Please, read it <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Summary: During a camp you discover what your destination is.

Hey! Now i've a Masterlist

Dawn

The campus was abuzz with preparations for the traditional Camping Week, an old town celebration that mixed folklore, outdoor activities, and a touch of emotional torture—especially for the teachers.

You were in the library, trying to convince Yelena to join the camping organization committee, but she seemed more interested in planning ways to avoid sleeping outdoors.

"Camping? Sleeping on the ground? Eating canned food? Please," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "That’s horror movie stuff. And I’m not going to be the first blonde to die, thank you.

"You’re not even a natural blonde," Kate retorted with a grin.

"Which is precisely why I need to protect my artificial hair," Yelena replied, pointing to her locks as if they were a war trophy.

Bucky, flipping through a survival magazine, finally joined the conversation.

"I think it’ll be fun. Campfires, scary stories, fresh air..."

"And bugs, punctured air mattresses, and grumpy teachers," you added, though your excitement was evident.

"Well, maybe the grumpy teachers will make it more fun," Kate said with a mischievous look.

You knew exactly who she was talking about.

Meanwhile, the teachers were gathered in a room discussing the camping details, and the energy there was entirely different.

"Let me get this straight," Agatha began, adjusting the brooch on her outfit. "You want me to spend two nights in a tent, surrounded by noisy students and mosquitoes? Who invented this, and how can I curse them?"

"It’s tradition," Rio responded, always calm and just a little too enthusiastic. "And it’s important for bonding with the students."

"Bonding?" Agatha shot back, crossing her arms. "I prefer chains. More effective."

Bruce, in charge of logistics, raised his hands in surrender. "We’re not going to survive this if we start with negativity. Let’s organize everything properly and..."

"Sleep on the ground. Eat bad food. Have a nervous breakdown," Carol interjected, tossing her bag into the corner of the room.

And then there was Wanda, sitting silently, her expression unreadable. While the others complained, she was already formulating a plan. The camp would be hell for everyone, of course, but it would also be the perfect opportunity to test someone—you.

Somehow, Wanda would make it worth her while.

The arrival at the site was chaotic, as expected. Students stumbled with backpacks, teachers were visibly annoyed, and Yelena was trying to find a cell signal to post her outrage online.

"I can’t believe you talked me into this," she said, looking around in despair.

"Oh, stop complaining. Look how beautiful it is!" Kate said, pointing to the shimmering lake and tall trees.

"Beautiful? I’m sure this is where they filmed the first Friday the 13th. There—bet that’s where Jason killed his first blonde," Yelena said nervously, glancing at the forest.

"What are you talking about? Everyone knows the blonde is the 'final girl'," Kate countered, raising both eyebrows.

"And that the real killer was Jason’s mom, not him. Haven’t you seen Scream?" Bucky muttered, dropping his camping bag wherever.

You laughed, but your eyes involuntarily drifted to Wanda. She looked far too elegant for the setting, as if she’d stepped out of a magazine, even in a simple coat. Her gaze met yours, and a shiver ran through you.

Principal Cowell climbed onto a makeshift wooden platform in the center of the camp, clapping his hands for attention. His white tank top and tiny shorts, revealing his incredibly pale and nearly blinding legs, didn’t match the overly serious tone he attempted to adopt.

"Attention, children, and older children disguised as teachers!" he began, spreading his arms as if about to deliver a divine revelation.

Yelena, standing beside you, let out such a loud sigh that Kate had to stifle a laugh.

"This camp," continued the principal, "is not just about fun. It’s not just about pitching tents or eating marshmallows. This is a rite of passage! An opportunity to reconnect with nature, with the ancestors of this town, and, above all, with yourselves."

"Is he serious?" Yelena asked, leaning closer to you.

"Serious enough to make my breakfast want to come back up," you replied, trying not to laugh.

Cowell either didn’t notice—or completely ignored—the chorus of mocking whispers and bored looks as he went on.

"As the leader of this illustrious institution, it is my duty to ensure that each of you leaves here with more than just mosquito bites and sleepless nights. I want you to leave transformed, enlightened, and…" He hesitated, looking at the surrounding trees. "…with all trash properly picked up, please, no littering!"

"And we thought he was going to recite Shakespeare," Bucky muttered, tossing a rock on the ground with a bored sigh.

"Now," Cowell said, raising a finger as if about to announce something grandiose, "we’ll uphold the traditions established by our founders. Boys and girls in separate areas. Oh, and for our LGBTQIA+ students… I humbly ask that you choose not to hook up tonight. Please."

A stunned silence fell over the camp, followed by a wave of stifled laughter and incredulous looks.

"He didn’t just say that…" Kate said, covering her mouth to keep from laughing.

"Oh, but he did," Yelena replied, laughing openly.

The teachers around were clearly divided. Rio shook his head with an expression of pure exasperation. Agatha raised an eyebrow at Wanda as if to say, Is this guy for real? Carol crossed her arms, clearly debating whether to laugh or intervene.

Wanda, however, seemed oblivious to the situation, her eyes fixed on you in the crowd. When you noticed, she looked away, but there was a glint in her eyes you couldn’t interpret.

"Now, spread out, grab your tents, and start setting up camp!" Cowell concluded enthusiastically, awkwardly jumping off the platform.

"This is going to be the best disaster of my life," you said, shaking your head, already imagining the scenes to come.

[...]

The camp was bustling with activity, students tripping over tent stakes and teachers growing increasingly irritated. You were struggling to make sense of the tent manual, which seemed like it had been translated from another language by an intern.

That’s when you heard a familiar voice.

“Well, look who’s decided to play adventurer today!”

You looked up to see Darcy Lewis, a university senior known for being the most sociable and quick-witted person on campus. She was wearing a wide grin and carrying a hammer to help other students.

“Need some help, freshman?” Darcy asked, tilting her head playfully.

“If I said no, I’d be lying,” you admitted, setting the manual aside. “This manual is worse than an algebra test.”

Darcy laughed and crouched down beside you, picking up the stakes and beginning to organize them efficiently. You chatted as you worked, sharing inside jokes and laughing at the disastrous situations happening around the camp.

The smile you gave Darcy was sincere, warm, and laden with something even you couldn’t quite identify. Ever since you arrived at the university, she had been your guide, showing you everything from the bathrooms to the dorms. And when you found out Darcy would be your roommate, something in your mind sparked—expectations that wouldn’t stop growing.

Darcy always had this relaxed demeanor, like nothing in the world could throw her off balance. As you worked alongside her, you felt the weight of her presence like an anchor amidst the chaos of university life. She was different—not just because she seemed to master everything with irritating ease, but because, somehow, she made you feel comfortable. Seen.

You remembered the first time you met her. She had shown up in the dorm hallway with an easy smile and a box of donuts, saying, "Welcome to hell! I hope you like coffee because no one survives here without it."

From that moment, it was hard not to get attached. Darcy was always the first to offer help, whether it was explaining tough physics concepts or just listening to you vent about endless assignments. She had this way of making any place feel a little brighter, safer.

Now, as she adjusted the tent stakes, your mind wandered to all the little moments you’d shared. Late-night dorm room talks, stifled laughter so as not to wake others, the way she encouraged you without making you feel dependent on her.

But there was more than just admiration there, and you knew it. It was the way your heart raced a little faster when she leaned in too close to explain something, or how you held your breath whenever she casually tossed her hair back, oblivious to the effect it had on you.

As you tightened a loose rope, you glanced at her, trying to disguise the lingering look. Darcy was focused, the tip of her tongue poking out slightly as she worked, her face softened by an expression of calm concentration. She was beautiful—not just in an obvious way, but in a way that came from confidence, intelligence, and the ability to make you feel significant in a crowd.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Darcy suddenly asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Like what?” You tried to sound casual, but you could feel the warmth rising to your face.

“Like… I don’t know, like you just remembered something really good.” Darcy raised an eyebrow, curious but with that playful smile only she had.

You opened your mouth to answer but closed it again, realizing you didn’t have a good excuse. Finally, you shrugged. “Maybe I did. Or maybe I’m just having fun.”

Darcy laughed, shaking her head. “Well, it’s good to see someone is because most people here look like they want to dig a hole and hide until Monday.”

You laughed together, and something about the sound of her laughter made your chest tighten in the best way, as if, for a moment, nothing else mattered.

But that feeling was also terrifying. Because deep down, you knew Darcy would probably never look at you the same way. To her, you were just a funny, slightly clumsy girl who needed help every now and then.

Still, what could you do? Ignore the way she made you feel alive? Pretend you didn’t want more of these moments? It was pointless, and you knew it.

Wanda knew it too.

Wanda watched from a distance, her arms crossed as she pretended to listen to Carol and Agatha discussing the evening’s logistics. Her eyes, however, were fixed on you and Darcy, leaning close together as you set up the tent.

Something burned inside her—a mixture of anger and a discomfort she hated admitting was jealousy. Every smile you gave Darcy seemed brighter than any Wanda had ever received from you. It wasn’t fair. And the worst part was the way Darcy reciprocated, so effortlessly casual and relaxed, as if winning your attention was easy.

“Who the hell is this girl?” Wanda thought, narrowing her eyes.

She tried to shake off the feeling, but the unease grew like a knot in her stomach. What did Darcy have that made you look at her like that? The thought tormented Wanda, and she wasn’t the kind to tolerate uncertainties.

With a cold determination, she closed her eyes for a moment, letting her powers extend. Darcy’s mind was easy to access; she lacked the natural barriers some people built. Wanda slipped in effortlessly, sifting carefully as though flipping through a book.

What she found made her lips curl into a cold smile. Darcy felt nothing but fraternal affection for you—a genuine friendship, without any romantic undertones or desire. It was a relief, but also an insult.

Wanda’s expression remained serene, but her crimson eyes glinted with an intensity that betrayed her calm exterior. Darcy was speaking animatedly with someone, laughing at something, but Wanda saw only how that laugh seemed misplaced. Forced.

“She tries so hard,” Wanda murmured, a faint smile curving her lips. “But it’s not enough, is it? Poor Darcy…”

"You’re nothing special to her, are you?" Wanda murmured to herself, a red glow flickering in her eyes for a brief moment.

For an instant, the Scarlet Witch—her darker, more primal side—nearly took over. "Then she doesn’t need to be here anymore," murmured the voice in her mind. But Wanda took a deep breath and stepped back. It wasn’t necessary. Darcy was insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Even so, Wanda couldn’t resist the urge to leave her mark. She planted a subtle thought in Darcy’s mind, something that would make her hesitate if she got too close to you. A small shadow of doubt—not enough to harm the girl, but sufficient to keep her distant, allowing Wanda to feel in control once more.

The witch crossed her arms, her fingers drumming lightly as she scrutinized every gesture, every nuance. Darcy was an unfinished canvas, an attempt at grandeur that failed to capture the depth needed to be truly remarkable.

Inside her, a darker part stirred. The Scarlet Witch, primal and possessive, whispered insidiously, urging her to remove any threat to her position. “She’s nothing. An insignificant obstacle. Get rid of her. Y/n wouldn’t even notice.”

Wanda inhaled deeply, steadying herself. No. It wasn’t necessary. Darcy was no real threat, just an inconvenient distraction. Still, Wanda understood the power of doubt and how a tiny fracture could spread until it consumed everything.

She raised her hand, her fingers dancing lightly in the air as if weaving invisible threads. Her lips moved in an almost imperceptible whisper, and a subtle breeze swept past Darcy, like a gentle touch on her consciousness.

"Always the helper, never the helped."

The thought seemed to emerge from nowhere, nesting in Darcy’s mind like an imperceptible seed. She furrowed her brow slightly, as if something had brushed against her awareness, but quickly shook her head, trying to ignore the feeling.

"Little Darcy, a sidekick in her own life, isn’t she? Just... ordinary."

Wanda let the spell do its work—subtle, almost undetectable. It wasn’t enough to destroy Darcy, but it was enough to plant that shadow. A thought that would surface on the loneliest nights, when she looked in the mirror and wondered who she could have been.

Satisfied, Wanda stepped back, a slight smile of triumph on her lips. It wasn’t just power that defined her—it was control. And as she watched Darcy cast a distracted glance of insecurity at her reflection, Wanda knew she was in command once again.

When Wanda opened her eyes, she was calmer, but anger still simmered beneath the surface. She couldn’t bear the thought of you dedicating any part of yourself to someone else, even if it was just friendship.

As Darcy stood and laughed loudly at something you said, Wanda clenched her fists at her sides. The red of her powers glimmered briefly in her palms before fading away.

"This is only the beginning," Wanda thought. She couldn’t allow anything—or anyone—to come between the two of you.

Wanda turned toward the lake, her eyes fixed on the horizon as she wrestled with the conflicting feelings inside her. The sorceress within her constantly whispered, urging for more control, more dominance, but Wanda wasn’t ready to fully give in—not yet.

For now, Darcy was safe. But Wanda knew that if she had to, she wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever was necessary to ensure you stayed exactly where she wanted.

The campfire crackled, sparks shooting up into the star-speckled dark sky. The sweet aroma of toasted marshmallows mingled with the fresh night air. Students were scattered around, sitting on makeshift logs or blankets. Laughter echoed as everyone settled in for an evening of stories and fun.

Rio, with her contagious smile and an out-of-tune guitar, was leading the group in a singalong, struggling to keep up with the chaotic voices of the students.

“Come on, guys! Louder! You sound like zombies!” she exclaimed, laughing as she strummed simple chords.

“Louder and more off-key…” Agatha grumbled from the other side of the fire, rolling her eyes dramatically. She sat with a cup of coffee—seemingly conjured from nowhere—wearing an expression of pure boredom.

“You’re killing the vibe, Agatha,” Rio teased, strumming a chord for comedic effect. “Be happy for once in your life!”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, replying in her trademark sarcastic tone, “Oh, sorry. My happiness is stuck in the same place as your ability to play the guitar.”

The fire exploded with laughter.

“That’s so mean!” you laughed, pointing at Agatha. “I think you just lost your chance to be the night’s favorite.”

“As if I care about being the favorite,” Agatha retorted, though a small smile played on her lips.

Meanwhile, Yelena and Kate were trying to balance marshmallows on improvised sticks, with Kate complaining that hers was burning.

“That’s how it tastes best!” Yelena argued, biting into a marshmallow charred black with enthusiasm.

“That’s pure ash!” Kate said, horrified.

“Gourmet ash.”

Across the fire, Wanda sat with a rigid posture, watching the scene with a mixture of fascination and discomfort. The firelight danced in her eyes, making the green orbs almost ethereal. You noticed that, even amidst the chaos, her gaze always seemed to find you.

“Time for ghost stories!” one of the students shouted, excited.

Rio clapped her hands. “Great idea! Who’s starting?”

A skinny student raised his hand with a mischievous grin. “I have a story about Professor Harkness. They say she’s been spotted wandering around at midnight, talking to cats and—”

Agatha raised her hand, cutting him off with a sweet but threatening smile. “Finish that sentence, and I promise you’ll have the lowest grade of your life.”

More laughter erupted as the student gave an exaggerated bow.

Bruce, sitting a bit farther away and cleaning his glasses, finally chimed in: “Why not a science story? Something truly terrifying?”

“Terrifying? Like your physics lectures?” Yelena quipped, earning another round of laughter from the group.

As everyone laughed and shared stories, you noticed Wanda had a faint smile on her lips—something rare and precious. When Rio began strumming another lighthearted tune, you saw Wanda relax slightly, though she still seemed distant.

“Hey, Wanda,” Agatha called, her tone teasing. “Aren’t you going to tell a story? Something about witches and sorcery, perhaps?”

Wanda narrowed her eyes at Agatha, but there was something playful in her gaze. “I think I can do that,” she replied, to everyone’s surprise.

Wanda crossed her legs gracefully, the firelight casting dramatic shadows on her face. Her voice was soft but carried a weight that held everyone’s attention. She gave you a long, deliberate look—somewhere between predatory and curious—before she began.

“Once upon a time… there was a sweet, lonely girl.”

The group fell silent, the sounds of the forest around them fading into the background.

“She lived in a small village, isolated from the world. She was known for her beauty and kindness—a rare combination that made everyone around her admire her. But the girl didn’t want everyone’s attention. Her heart was set on just one person: the crown prince of the kingdom.”

Wanda paused, letting the suspense linger. Her eyes met yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

"The prince was everything she dreamed of—strong, charismatic, and kind… at least in her eyes. One day, the prince hosted a grand ball, and the girl decided she would do anything to win his heart. But there was one problem."

"Let me guess," Kate interrupted. "She didn’t have a dress, and then a fairy godmother shows up?"

"That’s another story," Wanda replied with an enigmatic smile. "In this one, instead of a fairy godmother, a witch appeared."

The silence returned, even heavier this time.

"The witch saw the girl crying by a lake, her tears sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight. She approached—gentle and seductive—promising to help her. ‘I will grant you eternal beauty, irresistible charm, and the chance to win the prince’s heart,’ the witch said."

Wanda leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to an almost-whisper. "The girl, naive and desperate, accepted the pact without question. And that night, she danced with the prince at the ball. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, nor his hands. She felt she had finally achieved her dream. But there was a price."

Agatha scoffed, clearly skeptical. "There always is."

Wanda ignored the jab and continued, "The next morning, the girl woke up in a dark cabin, bound by chains of silver that shimmered like candlelight. The witch was there, smiling. ‘You wanted the prince, and I gave you one night. Now, your strength, your youth, and your beauty belong to me.’"

Rio let out a dramatic sigh. "How tragic! Poor girl."

"But that’s not the scariest part," Wanda said, her eyes locking onto yours again, as if the story were meant only for you. "The girl never stopped dreaming of the prince, even as the witch drained her life little by little. Because the witch’s true power wasn’t just stealing her beauty—it was making her long for something she could never have. And every time the girl wished, the witch grew stronger."

Your heart raced. You knew it was just a story, but the way Wanda told it—the intensity in her gaze—made it feel far too real.

"And what happened to the girl?" someone finally asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Wanda smiled—a cold, victorious smile directed at you. "She’s still there, in the cabin, staring into the mirror and wishing. Because some prisons don’t have walls, only unreachable desires."

The fire crackled, as if emphasizing the story’s end. Wanda leaned back in her seat, her eyes never leaving yours, while an uncomfortable silence hung over the group.

Agatha finally broke the moment. "Well, that was… absolutely depressing. Thanks for that, Wanda."

Rio tried to lighten the mood by playing a cheerful melody on her guitar, but you still felt the weight of Wanda’s gaze. She seemed to be daring you to react, to retreat, or to do something she could manipulate.

But you didn’t step back. And, for a brief moment, you were certain you saw the corner of Wanda’s mouth lift into an almost imperceptible smile.

The forest was cloaked in an almost absolute silence, broken only by the sound of your quick steps crushing dried leaves. Wanda’s story still lingered in your mind, like a persistent echo, and you felt like you needed air, space—anything to escape the weight of that intense gaze.

You walked away from the campfire, wandering aimlessly, the faint starlight barely illuminating the path between the tall trees. The air was cold and heavy with moisture, but it was better than being under Wanda’s watchful eyes.

“Hiding, darling?” Her voice came from behind you, low and almost seductive.

You spun around quickly, your heart racing. Wanda was there, just a few meters away, arms crossed, her hair gleaming under the moonlight. How she always managed to look so flawless, even in the middle of the forest, was a mystery you couldn’t comprehend.

“I… I just needed some air,” you finally replied. “And what was that story?” you asked, trying to sound firm, but the tension in your voice was obvious.

Her smile was slow, predatory. “It’s what’s going to happen to you,” she said, stepping forward, her eyes locked on yours. “Or do you think I haven’t noticed your ridiculous crush on that insignificant girl?”

Your stomach twisted, and you instinctively stepped back. “What? What are you talking about? Darcy is just my friend!”

“Oh, please.” Wanda laughed, but there was no humor in her voice. “I don’t need to read your mind to see how you look at her. That silly smile, the fleeting glances—it’s pathetic.”

You felt your face heat with embarrassment and anger. “You can’t talk to me like that! What do you even know about me?”

“More than you’d like me to,” she murmured, her eyes glowing with a faint red light.

The tension between you grew with every passing second, like a taut string about to snap. Wanda stepped closer again, and this time, you didn’t back away.

“Why do you care?” you demanded, your voice defiant. “Why are you so obsessed with who I like or don’t like?”

Wanda’s smile vanished, and something darker overtook her expression. “Because you’re mine,” she said simply, as if it were an undeniable truth.

Before you could respond, the air around Wanda began to shimmer with red energy. Her eyes turned fully scarlet, and tendrils of pure magic emerged from her back, writhing in the air like hungry serpents.

“Let’s see how far you can go.”

She rose into the sky with a swift motion, her silhouette stark against the darkness of the forest, like a vengeful goddess. There was no choice. Instinct took over, and you started running, your feet stumbling over uneven ground as branches closed in around you like living traps.

“You can run,” Wanda mocked, her voice seeming to come from every direction, “but you can’t escape.”

The magical tendrils lashed around you, toppling trees and ripping chunks from the ground. You leaped over fallen trunks and pushed through thorny bushes, your heart pounding with growing terror.

Suddenly, one of the tendrils struck beside you, tearing a chunk of earth and causing you to stumble. You fell, rolling through the dirt, and when you looked up, Wanda was there, hovering above you like a goddess of destruction, her face illuminated by a scarlet glow.

“Get up,” she ordered, her voice low and laced with authority. “Prove that you’re not as weak as you seem.”

Your body trembled, but something within you refused to give up. Slowly, you rose to your feet, your eyes locked on hers. For the first time, you realized that beneath all her fury and power, there was something else—a desperate need for control, for you.

And you decided it wouldn’t be so easy to give in.

The ground beneath your feet seemed to pulse, as if the forest were alive, reacting to Wanda’s oppressive presence. You ran, the sound of your own breathing drowned out by the eerie whispers of the trees around you. The shadows stretched, invisible hands trying to grab you as you dodged twisted branches that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Do you really think you can escape me?” Wanda’s voice echoed through the forest, almost soft but full of menace. “You belong to me. And I don’t lose what’s mine.”

You tripped over a root that seemed to move deliberately to trip you, falling to your knees. Panic rose, but so did a spark of defiance. Looking back, you saw Wanda floating above the ground, the red tendrils glowing like whips of pure energy. Her eyes were entirely scarlet, her expression a mix of rage and… something you couldn’t identify.

“Is that what you call a fight?” Wanda taunted, her voice sharp as a blade.

“That’s cheating!” you shouted, trying to buy time as you got to your feet.

Wanda laughed, a low and dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Darling, what made you think this would ever be fair?”

With a wave of her hand, the trees around you came alive. Grotesque faces appeared on the trunks, mouths open in silent screams, as branches extended like arms, trying to grab you.

You ran again, dodging a branch that almost caught your ankle. “You’re insane!” you shouted, but your voice trembled more from adrenaline than fear.

“Insane?” Wanda repeated, her voice seeming to come from everywhere. “Perhaps. But at least I’m honest about what I want. You, on the other hand, keep pretending you don’t feel anything. That you don’t feel me. That you don’t dream about this every day too.”

Her words hit you like invisible blows, each sharper than the last. Your heart raced, your lungs burned as you kept running, but those sentences echoed within you, cutting deep.

The dreams. She knew about them? About the images that haunted you—of the two of you as a family, laughing together, complete. A future you’d never dare to admit you wanted.

The confusion was overwhelming because, despite everything, there was something about Wanda that was impossible to ignore. An irresistible force pulling you in, like gravity, even as she hunted you like prey.

Your mind screamed to resist, but her magnetism was undeniable—engulfing, dangerous. And in that moment, you wondered if running was truly an option or merely a futile attempt to escape something that had always been destined to happen.

“I am not yours!” you shouted, more to yourself than to her.

“Oh, but you are,” Wanda replied, her voice now closer. “And you know it. I can feel it in the way you try to resist. It’s adorable, but futile.”

You stumbled down a slope, sliding clumsily as the uneven ground struck sparks of pain through your body with each impact. When you finally stopped at the base of a grotesque tree, its twisted branches like arms ready to grasp, you tried to stand—but it was already too late.

Wanda was there. Hovering over you like a vision of absolute power, her feet floating inches above the ground as the force of her magic made the surrounding trees shudder and groan.

“Tired already, darling?” she taunted, her voice silky yet laced with an implicit threat. Slowly, her feet touched the ground, every movement deliberate and purposeful. “I could do this all night.”

You gasped, your body trembling but refusing to yield. Your eyes met hers—burning red—and there was something defiant in your own gaze. “Why are you doing this? Why me?”

For a fleeting moment, something shifted in Wanda’s face. The dark intensity faltered, and a deeper emotion surfaced—but only for an instant. “Because you challenge me. Because you were made for me. For love… or for death.”

She raised a hand, and immediately the earth around you began to move, as if it were alive. Roots and branches emerged to bind you, wrapping around your arms and legs, pinning you down against your will.

“Now,” Wanda continued, her voice low and carrying a calm menace. “Let’s see if you can admit it before I decide what to do with you.”

The battle was no longer just physical. It was a war of wills, an unbearable tension growing with each passing second. The air around you felt electrified, pulsating as if the very environment awaited the inevitable explosion.

The branches of the grotesque tree seemed to come alive, gripping you with relentless force and lifting you off the ground. You screamed, but the struggle was futile. Like a puppet on invisible strings, you were dragged closer to Wanda, who stood still, motionless, like a statue of pure power.

She didn’t smile, but the look she fixed on you was more devastating than any expression. Her gaze scanned every detail—the scratches on your face, the thin cuts on your arms—absorbing each fragment of your vulnerability.

With deliberate gentleness, Wanda lifted you into the skies with her—only the moon and stars bore witness to the tension between you. Her presence was overwhelming, and every movement seemed charged with absolute control, like a predator savoring the imminent victory. When you finally stopped before her, there was something almost tender in her expression.

“Let me see,” she commanded, her cold fingers brushing against the bruised skin of your face.

You tried to pull away, but the pain was too real, and her touch, as possessive as it was, carried an unexpected hint of care. Before you could react, she tilted her head and pressed her lips to one of the scratches on your face. The pain disappeared instantly, replaced by a warm, inexplicable sensation.

“You—” Your voice faltered, caught between shock and something you didn’t want to name.

Without hesitation, Wanda repeated the gesture on another bruise, then another. Each kiss was a confusing mix of relief and an overwhelming pulse that made your heart race. It was as if she was imprinting something on you, an invisible yet permanent mark.

“Why are you doing this?” you managed to ask, but your voice came out as a whisper.

Wanda paused, her blazing eyes meeting yours as if she could see not just this life, but all the lives you had shared. For an instant, it seemed she was about to confess something that transcended words, something that defied the very fabric of fate. Vulnerability flickered in her features, fleeting as the reflection of a comet, before disappearing under the unyielding firmness of her expression.

“Because you are mine,” she said finally, her voice low but laden with conviction that spanned eras and realities.

As if it were the only truth she knew.

Those words weren’t just a declaration; they were a primordial truth of the universe, a force that tethered the stars to the sky and kept the delicate threads between multiverses connected.

Your mind reeled, unable to grasp the weight of her confession. The relentless chase, the raw violence, the unexpected tenderness—all pieces of a puzzle that formed something greater than any destiny. The way she looked at you, as if every part of you was a long-lost secret, spoke louder than a thousand words ever could.

It wasn’t just possession, nor obsession. It was something as eternal as time, as life, as death. And suddenly, you understood. It wasn’t Wanda who bound you; it was destiny itself.

Dr. Wanda Maximoff, brilliant and dangerous, wasn’t just a woman. She was a force larger than this world, larger than any other. In her presence, you felt a visceral truth: in some inexplicable way, you were part of her. You were her other half, a soul her magic had recognized from time immemorial, as if both of you belonged to a cycle that could never be broken.

As this truth took shape in your mind, your eyes fixed on the dark horizon of the forest, where the night seemed to breathe in unison with the two of you.

“Maybe—” your voice came out soft, hesitant, but laden with silent certainty. “Maybe what the princess wanted all along wasn’t the prince…”

You paused, the silence now filled with the sound of distant crickets and the wind dancing through the trees. But most of all, it was the glow in Wanda’s eyes that stood out—capturing the reflection of the stars and something deeper, more intimate. She didn’t look away; instead, she held your gaze, as though she was waiting—or dreading—the end of your sentence.

You turned to her, and the emotion began to swell. The knot in your throat threatened to choke the words, but you knew you had to say them. Your eyes, glistening, met hers, which shone with the intensity of someone who finally sees a secret unveiled. With an almost imperceptible smile on your lips, you finished, in a whisper that felt sacred:

“…Maybe all along.” Your voice broke, a tear trailing down the corner of your eye. “All the princess ever wanted and needed… was the witch.”

Wanda blinked rapidly, but she couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down her cheeks. The strength she had held so tightly seemed to crumble, and her breath hitched at the sound of your words. The depth of the moment was overwhelming, and the smile that curved her lips was both a confession and a surrender.

Your heart raced, not out of fear, but from sheer energy. It was as if the entire multiverse had stopped to witness this moment. Compelled by a force you didn’t understand but couldn’t deny, you surged forward—your right hand tangling in Wanda’s auburn hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers, while the other found the nape of her neck, warm and pulsating with the life that seemed to radiate directly from her magic.

Your lips crashed into hers in a kiss as fierce as it was inevitable, like two primordial forces colliding at the epicenter of a storm. For a brief moment, Wanda was still, perhaps surprised by the intensity of the gesture, but that lasted only a second. Once she surrendered to the moment, she took control as though it was hers by right.

Her lips moved against yours with a blend of possessiveness and precision, as though every motion had been rehearsed through the ages. You tried to match her rhythm, but Wanda allowed no hesitation. Her hand slid up your back, dragging her fingers firmly, almost as if mapping every inch of you. The other hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer, so close there was no room for air between you.

Your tongue met hers, and the shock of the contact was like an electric explosion. Wanda was not gentle but intense, like a flame burning without seeking permission. Every movement was deep, every action calculated to claim. She tasted you as if memorizing every detail, every flavor. You tried to respond with the same hunger, but she wouldn’t let you lead. She controlled the pace—sometimes slow and deliberate, sometimes voracious and relentless.

Your fingers tightened in her hair, pulling slightly, and it elicited a low sound, almost a growl, from Wanda. She pressed you even closer, your back arching into her. Her heat was nearly suffocating, the vibrant energy radiating from her body enveloping you completely, like a current pulling you into a whirlpool of pure desire.

Your mouths parted briefly, just enough to catch your breath. But before you could recover, Wanda captured your lips again, this time with even greater intensity, as if determined to etch this moment into the present and every timeline.

The magic surrounding her reacted to the kiss as if it had a will of its own. The air vibrated, the trees pulsed, and the sky above Westview lit up with a scarlet glow. It was as if the universe itself reflected the power of what was happening between you—a collision of souls that transcended barriers and realities.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your faces so close your foreheads touched. Wanda's eyes glowed intensely, red as embers, and your own eyes mirrored something between awe and desire.

“God—” Wanda whispered, her voice rough and laden with something indefinable. Her hands still held you firmly, as if afraid you might vanish. “Tell me you feel it too.”

You could only nod, speechless, because all that remained was the certainty that this kiss had changed everything. It wasn’t just a physical act; it was a fusion of two existences destined to collide—a moment where chaos and order became one pulsating entity. And you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you could never escape her—and, secretly, you never wanted to.

You opened your eyes just in time to see the universe react. It was as if every dimension felt the echo of that moment—a wave of pure magic and emotion spreading, connecting lives and stories in a single brilliant point.

Wanda, now with a smile that blended triumph with something dangerously close to tenderness, cupped your face with both hands. Her eyes still burned with chaos magic, but there was something human there too—a soft glow, a trace of vulnerability. “Now,” she whispered, as if speaking to herself. “Now I’m complete. Thanks to you, my soulmate.”

The weight of her words echoed within you like an ancient melody, a song you had always known by heart, even without ever hearing it. And as the multiverse seemed to bow in reverence to this moment, you realized that no matter how confused you were, there was no denying it. You weren’t just two souls. You were a constant, a truth that transcended lives and destinies.

The walk back to the camp was wrapped in a heavy, almost suffocating silence. You trailed a few steps behind Wanda, still feeling the ghostly sensation of the branches that had held you and her touch, which burned more than it healed.

Wanda walked with her head high, but her clenched jaw and tight fists betrayed something beneath her controlled exterior. The silence wasn’t just hers; you didn’t know what to say either. Every possible word felt inadequate in the wake of what had just happened.

When the lights of the camp finally appeared through the trees, it was a bitter relief. The distant sound of other students’ voices and the warm glow of campfires provided a stark contrast to the weight of the walk.

As you both emerged from the last line of trees and approached the center of the camp, one of the students ran toward you, his eyes wide and his face lit with almost childlike excitement.

“Come quick!” he exclaimed, pointing toward the sky. “There’s a meteor shower—red meteors!”

You glanced at Wanda, who froze immediately. She lifted her eyes to the sky, her lips pressed into a thin line. Something in her expression—a mix of worry and something almost… amused—made your stomach churn.

Raising your eyes to the sky, you saw what the student was describing. Bright red streaks crossed the night, like shooting stars, but different. More intense, more alive. There was something supernatural about their beauty, something that didn’t feel like it belonged to the natural world.

“These… aren’t meteors, are they?” you asked in a low tone, meant only for Wanda.

She didn't reply immediately, keeping her gaze fixed on the sky, but the tension in her shoulders was hard to miss. Finally, she tilted her head slightly toward you, her voice a low murmur: "No. They're... remnants. Fragments of my power."

Her answer hit you like a punch. It was obvious, really, but hearing it out loud made it feel far more real. Those streaks in the sky, so beautiful and surreal, were the echoes of something infinitely more dangerous.

“They won’t get hurt, will they?” you asked, the concern slipping out involuntarily.

Wanda finally tore her gaze from the sky to meet yours. There was something almost proud in her eyes, as if she appreciated the question. But her response was firm. “No. It’s only a reflection. They’ll feel nothing but awe.”

The student ran back to the group, shouting excitedly for more people to look at the sky. Animated conversations and laughter began to fill the camp as everyone marveled at the supposed "meteor shower."

You stayed by Wanda’s side, feeling the weight of the secret you now shared. Every red streak in the sky was a reminder of who she was—and what she was capable of.

Finally, Wanda broke the silence between you. “It’s curious,” she said softly, her eyes still on the sky. “They look at this as something magical, enchanting. They have no idea it’s something so... ordinary to me.”

“Ordinary?” you repeated, incredulous. You could hardly believe what you were hearing. It wasn’t just the tone in Wanda’s voice but what it implied—her apparent indifference to the power she wielded like a second skin, something you could only imagine and, even then, fear.

She could have killed you. As if you were nothing. A mere flick of her hand would have been enough to reduce you to eternal silence, to oblivion. But that wasn’t what she did. No, instead, she chose something infinitely more complex. More confusing. More cruel and tender all at once.

She kissed your wounds, not with pity but with reverence. Every scratch on your skin was treated as something worthy of care, something deserving of attention. Where the heat of her power could have left ashes, Wanda chose to leave solace.

You wondered why she did it. Why someone so powerful—so capable of destruction, so distant in her essence—would choose to bow to tenderness for someone so small, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You were no weapon, no threat, and certainly no equal to her.

Wanda gave a slight smile—almost sad, but with a hint of arrogance. “Yes. Power is... just that. A tool. Beautiful, maybe, but dangerous. Like fire.”

You stared at her for a long moment, trying to grasp the complexity hidden behind those words. But before you could respond, Wanda took a step forward, heading toward the circle of students gathered to admire the sky.

She was an imposing figure but strangely human under that light. For a moment, you wondered how the others saw her. As someone brilliant, respectable... but never as the Wanda you had met in that forest.

As she walked away, you found yourself frozen, unable to decide whether to follow her or keep some distance. Because, somehow, you knew: that night had changed everything.

The night finally quieted after curfew. The lively chatter of the students gave way to the subtle sound of wind rustling through the trees and the occasional crack of branches. You were in your tent, lying down, but sleep didn’t come easily. Your mind was still processing the walk, the hunt, the "meteors."

Eventually, exhaustion won, and sleep came without warning. And with it, once again, the dream.

You were in a vast field bathed in a soft golden light, and a little girl ran ahead of you. Her steps were as light as a deer’s, her melodious laughter filling the space. You tried to catch up, calling out, but your voice seemed muffled, unable to bridge the distance between you.

The girl suddenly stopped, spinning around to face you. Her hair shone in the sunlight, and the face that had been a blurry smudge was now clear. But it was her eyes that froze you in place. A deep, vibrant green, full of life and mystery. The same eyes you had stared into before.

“Do you know who I am?” the girl asked, her tone sweet but laden with something older, wiser.

Before you could answer, the field began to collapse around you, as if the world were dissolving into a vortex of red light and darkness. You tried to scream but woke with a start, your heart pounding wildly, your chest heaving.

The dream left you shaken but resolute. There was no more room for doubt or waiting. You needed to confront Wanda. You needed to understand what was happening.

Moving quickly and still disoriented, you got up and left the tent, your bare feet sinking into the cold earth. But before you could take another step, something caught your attention.

A light.

Red and pulsing, like a beating heart. It hovered in the air not far away, glowing with a supernatural brilliance. It was impossible to tell where it came from, but there was something about it that held you captive, made it impossible to ignore.

You took a hesitant step toward the light, and it pulsed again, as if calling to you. Your chest tightened, but even so, you continued. It was as if an invisible force was pulling you, something stronger than logic or fear.

“Wanda?” you whispered, unsure if you even wanted an answer.

The light didn’t respond but began to move, slowly, as if guiding you.

The camp around you seemed deserted, the tents motionless under the pale moonlight. With each step, the red light drew you deeper into the forest, and though there was something terrifying about the path, there was also a strange familiarity.

You felt compelled to follow. Somehow, you knew this was tied to the girl in the dream. To the green eyes. To Wanda.

And then, the light stopped.

It hovered between two ancient, gnarled trees, like guardians of a portal. Its glow intensified, and you noticed that, beyond the red, there was now a golden hue surrounding it, like an aura.

You hesitated, your heart pounding against your ribs. Every instinct in your body screamed that stepping through that invisible portal would change everything.

But before you could decide, a soft yet unmistakably firm voice echoed around you.

“You really are brave, aren’t you?”

You turned quickly, and there she was. Wanda, emerging from the shadows as if she had been there all along. The look in her eyes was intense, almost disarming.

“Did you come here to understand,” she asked, her arms crossed, her tone devoid of mockery. “Or to run again?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. "I want to know the truth. About you. About me. About… all of this."

Wanda tilted her head slightly, the corner of her lips curving into a smile that seemed more melancholic than satisfied. "Then come," she said, gesturing to the red glow pulsing between the trees. "I'll show you what you want to know."

The walk to the cabin was silent. Wanda led, and the red light that had guided you before now seemed absorbed into her figure, pulsing from her fingers, as a natural extension of her presence. The forest grew denser, but you hardly noticed the trees or the uneven ground.

Your thoughts were consumed by what she would say, by what you were about to discover.

Finally, you arrived.

The cabin was small, with old wooden walls and a chimney that looked long since extinguished. It was nothing like the teachers' cabins at the camp, which were practical and modern. This one seemed pulled from a dark fairy tale, a relic from another time. There was something comforting yet unsettling about the place.

Wanda opened the door with a flick of her hand, and you stepped inside, hesitating. The interior was simple but cozy. A fireplace occupied the main wall, with some worn armchairs scattered around.

Bookshelves filled the walls, and a small table was covered with candles, crystals, and notebooks.

She closed the door behind you and sighed deeply before turning to face you.

"You deserve answers," Wanda said, her voice low but firm. She gestured to one of the armchairs, indicating that you sit.

You obeyed, trying to appear calmer than you truly felt. Wanda remained standing, pacing the room as if organizing her thoughts.

"My full name is Wanda Maximoff," she began, her eyes fixed on the fireplace as if speaking was easier without facing you. "I am… or was… an Avenger. One of a group of heroes who tried to save the world countless times. Some would call it heroism, but for me, it was always more complicated."

She turned to you, her eyes burning with something between pain and determination.

"Inside me, there is something I can't always control. The Scarlet Witch. An ancient and immense power, linked to chaos magic. It’s not just a power; it’s almost… an entity. She is part of me, but also something beyond. Something dangerous."

You swallowed hard but remained silent, absorbing every word.

"I've lost so much because of this power," Wanda continued. "My brother, Pietro. He died fighting for something greater than the both of us. Then came Vision…" Her voice faltered, and she took a deep breath before continuing.

"Vision was… is… someone I loved deeply. He was a synthezoid, a creation, but had more humanity in him than many of us. He was destroyed, and I… I created a reality to try and bring him back. But it was a mistake. A mistake that hurt people."

She stepped closer, her eyes locked on yours now.

"The boys… Billy and Tommy. My sons." Her voice trembled with emotion. "They were real to me, even though they came from an illusion I created. I loved every moment of that, and losing them… it was like losing a part of myself."

Wanda sat down in the chair opposite yours, her posture tired.

"After that, I went in search of answers. I explored the multiverses. I created different worlds, different versions of myself and everyone I knew. Some were beautiful, others… terrifying. But in all of them, there was one constant: the chaos inside me."

She paused, and you noticed she was studying you.

"And then, there is you," she said, her tone shifting, softening. "You're not like anyone I've ever met. There's something in you that… challenges me, calls to me. As if it was inevitable that our lives would cross."

Your heart sped up, but Wanda continued before you could respond.

"And Seline," she said, the name echoing in the air like something sacred. "The little girl from your dreams. She is real, in a sense that transcends what you know as reality. She is a possibility, a piece of something greater. A connection between us, between what I was, what I am, and what we can be."

You felt your throat dry, but managed to ask, your voice weak: "We… who? Are you saying that…?"

Wanda smiled, but it was a smile full of mystery. "The two of us are connected. I don't know exactly how or why. But I know that Seline is proof that we've lived this many times."

The silence that followed was heavy, yet full of possibilities. You knew there was much more to understand, but you also knew that somehow, you were no longer alone on this journey. Wanda was there, with all her strength, pain, and intensity, and strangely, that gave you courage.

"Now," Wanda said, leaning forward, her eyes glowing intensely. "If you're ready to accept this, we can make it all happen. Together." Her eyes glowed red.

You felt like you didn't know how to breathe. "But… Vision, the boys. You already have a life here. How could I fit in? You're Professor Wanda Maximoff in this universe, married with children." Tears shimmered in your eyes.

Wanda remained silent for a moment, watching the tears glisten in your eyes. She seemed to be battling something, as if every word she was about to say required more than she had to offer.

"Do you think it's easy for me, too?" she finally said, her voice low but filled with an emotion that felt almost overwhelming. "Do you think I don't feel the same? That I don't wonder where you fit, or how I could give up the life I've already built for something I can't even explain yet?"

You tried to hold her gaze, but the intensity in her red eyes was almost unbearable. "Then why insist? Why continue with this if everything is so complicated?"

"Because you're here!" Wanda almost shouted, her control faltering for a moment. The scarlet glow around her pulsed, and the furniture in the cabin shook lightly. "Because even with all of this, even with Vision, with the boys, with the responsibilities, you're here. And every part of me tells me that you've always been."

The silence that followed was filled only with the rapid beat of your heart. You didn't know what to say. You didn't know how to respond to her intensity, but you also couldn't ignore the way her words seemed to awaken something deep within you.

"You speak of Seline as if she's an answer," you said finally, your voice stronger now. "But what about us? And everything this means?"

Wanda took a step closer, the red energy around her softening but still present. "We are the starting point. We always were. Seline is just the reflection of that, the proof that there’s something greater than these lives we’ve lived apart. Something that transcends time, universes."

"But Vision…" you began, but Wanda raised her hand, gently interrupting you.

"Vision knows what I am," she said, and there was an unmistakable sadness in her voice. "He always knew. I created him, but he’s not my destiny. He is kindness, stability. But you… you are chaos, like me. And maybe that’s the right thing."

You took a deep breath, trying to process it all. "So… what do we do now?"

Wanda smiled, but this time it was a softer smile, almost melancholic. "Now, we figure out how to make this work. But I can't promise it will be easy, and I can't promise we’ll come out of this without scars."

You didn’t say anything, just looked out the window—finally sighing as you saw the sun rising horizontally among the trees.

The dawn arrived like a whispered promise, the first touch of light painting the sky in golden and crimson hues. You and Wanda stood side by side, at the threshold of the cabin, watching the silent spectacle. The world seemed to breathe again, and even with the weight of the unknown hanging over you, there was something reassuring in the way the sun broke the darkness, persistent and unwavering.

The cool breeze touched your face, but Wanda's presence at your side was even more tangible. Her fingers brushed yours, a hesitant touch, as if testing the strength of this bond that now seemed impossible to ignore. Wanda turned her face to you, her eyes still carrying the echoes of the vibrant red that always seemed to dance in the depths of her soul.

"This is what we are," she said softly, her voice blending with the gentle sound of the leaves dancing in the wind. "Like the sun and the night. Always in a cycle, always chasing each other. But when we find balance, for a brief moment, we create something beautiful."

You looked at her, the first rays of sunlight illuminating the contours of her face, softening the intensity that so often defined her. "And when there’s no balance? When everything is just chaos?"

Wanda smiled, a small smile, filled with painful wisdom. "Chaos is also a way to create. It destroys, but it also makes room for something new to be born."

Her words weighed on you, as if they carried more than just a simple meaning. Maybe she was talking about the two of you, or perhaps she was referring to something much larger, something you still couldn’t fully comprehend.

The sun was now fully visible, spreading its light across the world like an artist on their canvas. And as you watched that spectacle, you realized that despite all the darkness, there was beauty in the dawn.

Just as there was beauty in standing beside Wanda, even when everything seemed so terribly complicated.

"Do you think we can make it?" you asked, your voice low, but filled with a vulnerability you didn’t try to hide.

"I think we already are," Wanda answered, her gaze firm and filled with a certainty you didn’t know whether to comfort her or yourself.

And so, at the threshold between night and day, between hope and fear, you and Wanda found something that seemed undeniably real. Perhaps it was just a moment, perhaps the beginning of something much larger. But for now, that was enough.

~*~

Wanted: powerful goddess witch to throw me against the wall and impegnate me.

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@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580 @valentine585

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse

[certainlynotasimp]

HIIIII! Okay so this idea has been living rent free in my head. But what if Miguel was away on a mission, and Sunny saw it as an opportunity to go ahead and jam out with headphones/earbuds/AirPods. Sunny’s a pretty good singer she just.. doesn’t like bringing it to people’s attention much. And I recommend listening to Can’t Tame Her by Zara Larsson. Sunny’s having the time of her life singing and dancing. Miguel gets back, and Sunny’s still jamming out until she eventually turns around and practically screams seeing him just standing there and all embarrassed 😂 what happens after that is completely up to you.

Dance With Me

(Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader)

A/N: I'm BACK!! lol. I'm so sorry for the long wait on your request and I absolutely love this song!! Such a bop. I honestly changed some details of your request and I added some details that my lovely Latinx spiderlings mentioned.

A/N: If you guys wanna read some more of my stuff, check out my master list. I have closed the tag list, but if you guys want live updates, a meeting place for simps, and maybe get your ideas added to fics, then come join the discord!

WARNINGS: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/ Female Pronouns, Pregnancy, Fluff, Embarrassing situation, and Deepl Translated Spanish ((Y'all let me know if the translations are better with this new site some of y'all recommended.))

~~~~~~~~~

“¿Segura que vas a estar bien sola, mami?” Are you sure you're going to be alright on your own, mami? Miguel mumbles as he looks at his love standing by the oven. His eyes cautiously watch her hips sway softly as she hums softly to herself and makes her French toast. Her swollen stomach makes her movements seem more imbalanced.

“I’m sure, Miggy.” The heavily pregnant woman reassures her love. The woman turned back to her worried lover as he stood by the door in his blue spider suit.

Hitting the third trimester of pregnancy has led to Miguel becoming more of a protective force than he was before. He already had to fight his stubborn little sunshine to be benched during the first two months of her pregnancy, which resulted in the compromise of her moving into this apartment to appease both of them. Now in the sixth month of bringing this new little life into the world, the man had to basically be pried away from his apartment in order for him to go on missions outside of his dimension.

For example, if there wasn’t another Spot on the loose again, Miguel would be content with staying home with his girls and gorging on the trashy romantic comedies that she kept playing on repeat. Of course, he would never voice his disdain for the films. Not when he gets to see her eyes light up in delight as her voice floods the apartment in laughter.

“You really don’t need to worry about us, mi amor.” She calmly assures him as she wraps her arms around him. Her bump made it difficult for her to embrace him, but the little flutter of feet against his abdomen made up for it. “We always know that Papi will always keep us safe.” She mutters as her bright smile cuts through Miguel’s heart.

Cupping her face, Miguel whispers softly, “¿Qué hice para merecerte?” What did I do to deserve you? He presses gently kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and lips as she giggles at the feathery light affection. Miguel knees down and pressed a firm kiss on her bump while whispering, “Pórtate bien, Estrellita. No quiero que le causes muchos problemas a tu mami mientras no estoy.” Be good, little star. I don't want you to cause your mommy too much trouble while I'm gone.

A strong kick meets Miguel’s lips unexpectedly as he chuckles at Maria’s attempt to tell her father to get on the road. 

Standing up, He gives his love another kiss before heading out. As he swings away, the pregnant woman looks down at her bump and mumbles.

“Now that Papa is gone, we can have some fun.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Lyla, si vuelves a mandarme a algún sitio así, te pondré en el monitor de bebés de Mayday.” Lyla, if you ever send me anywhere like that again, I will put you into Mayday's baby monitor. Miguel seethes as he limps out of the portal with the rest of the team.

The mission was a lot more difficult than the team was briefed on. They knew that The Spot was involved, but Lyla didn’t mention Doctor Octavious and a Prowler would be there as well. Miguel had handled the two while the others worked to capture The Spot, but the task wasn’t easy as the large claw marks along his sides and heavy bruising proved. Luckily, they managed to capture the enemies, but everyone receive a significant amount of damage. 

Lyla laughs as she plays with some weird virtual version of a toy Gwen had yesterday. The annoying popping of the rubber bubbles causes Miguel’s already sour mood to worsen as she muses, “ No need to fuss, Miggy. You guys are still alive and ready to kick ass tomorrow.”

“I don’t think being alive is a good thing right now…” Pavitr groans as he plops onto the floor as Hobie grumbles beside him about his destroyed guitar.

Jess rolls her eyes as she plops herself in Miguel’s normal spot by the monitor and throws Miguel a knowing glance.

“Why don’t you head on home, Migue?’ Jess offers which causes him to look at her a little surprised. “You need to be home with Sunny. Believe me, I understand how uncomfortable she is right now.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Miguel argues, “What about your-”

“My husband can handle Little Bit while I finish this report.” Jessica shuts him down as she shoots him a familiar glare he recognizes from his own mother. God, he hopes his sweet sunny doesn’t develop a glare like that. She would have him running for his money.

Miguel silently thanks his friend as he leaves, opting to swing home instead of the portal. Deciding to pick up some takeout from her favorite restaurant on the way.

~~~~~~~~

As Miguel approaches the door to their apartment, the soft buzz of pop music filters through the thick walls of the building. His eyebrow quirks up as he softly opens the door. The young black and white mass of fur greets with silent chirps as Miguel shushes him. He closes the door quietly as he kneels down and scratches behind the cat’s ears. 

“¿Qué hacían nuestras chicas mientras yo no estaba, Moony?” What were our girls doing while I was gone, Moony? He coos as he stands up and places the bags of food on the counter.

Moony runs off as the soft voice he loves fills the apartment. 

“Don't need no one, she can dance on her own

Club is closin', but she ain't goin' home

Night is still young, where the hell will she go?

Nobody knows nobody knows”

The hyper-pop music boomed from the sound system as Miguel rounds the corner and his face splits into a bright grin. His red eyes soften as he watches his pregnant love freely dancing around the living room with a pint of ice cream in her hand. His worn sweater consumes her frame as she twirls and blurts out lyrics.

“Can't tame her magic energy

She's so magnetic, pulls you in every time (every time)

Every time (every time)

But she don't care, she gonna do what she wants (she wants)”

Watching her ridiculously move with a large bump almost made Miguel chuckle, but he didn’t want to disturb her yet. He waits for her to twirl one more time before stalking toward their bedroom. 

She continues her private concert as she shoves a spoonful of ice cream before using it as a microphone. The utter giddy from these past few months filled her being as she sings out.

“And you can't tie her down

When the night comes around (around)

Said she gonna party all night (all night)

And you can't change her

Can't blame her, can't tame her”

A pair of warm arms wrap around her waist as her heart stops in her chest for a moment before a warm purr rumbles in his chest. She relaxes as her purring lover mumbles, “Parece que tuviste un día divertido, mi amor.” You look like you had a fun day, my love.

“I did.” I giggle as she can feel his hips sway to the music with hers, playfully dancing with her. His warm hands gently rub her stomach as their little one happily greets her father with little kicks. “She’s gonna be ready to fight crime by the time she gets out of there.” She jokes through a particularly hard kick. The mother was now sure that Maria is gonna be as strong as Miguel with the bruises she was starting to have.

“Bien. Quiero que aleje a todos esos niñatos de ella hasta que tenga treinta años.” Good. I want her to fight all of those little boys away from her until she's thirty. Miguel grumbles as he thinks about his little girl possibly dating little punks in the future.

“Papi, she’s not even here yet and you’re already so protective.” She giggles as she turns around in his arms. Her eyes light up as she’s met with her grumpy boyfriend’s bare chest and low-hanging joggers, but a pout appears as she sees the large claw marks and bruises running on his sides.

“Por supuesto que sí.” Of course, I am. Miguel smiles mischievously as the music transitions into a familiar upbeat tune that causes his love’s concern to fade to amusement. “Tengo que proteger a mis hijas y mostrarles cómo los hombres de verdad tratan a sus hijas.”  I have to protect my girls and show them how real men treat their girls.

A whirlwind of laughter fills the room as Miguel starts to pull her into the Cumbia. Her moments of imbalance missteps were soothed by his strong hands as he catches her. The couple spend their evening in each other’s arms dancing and loving their growing family.

~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@ameliadraws @tojisrightnut @whyareyoubored @silly-lovestruck-em @luvil1y @chims-kookies @himesuedi @22carolina08 @chaoticevilbakugo @boredwithlifeatthispoint @hoshhoshh @isaidoop @pheroineux @rosiepetalss @aniya7 @savannahlynnes @boldlypessimistic @dilfaddiction @xsuvs @bunnybopug01 @tanakaslastbraincell @brivers @mistermouseshideyhole @paranoiac-666 @reypolaris @beeframon @sofiahowland376 @bby-lupin @thesrtuggleisveryreal @arminarmout15 @mintellaine @maddsunn @sleepyamaya @meshuao @scaraza @nobarasgfriend @kurxxmi @lemoonandlestars @pix-stuff @galaxieshearme @sunshiines-stuff @iytatsworld @corpsebridenightamare @p-rspective @almostjollypizza @celestiayxl @christinaatyourservice92 @marisolpusheen @hereliespumpkin @lordelvr @shadowlover321 @internal-soundtrack @lotustv @0sftom0 @whosace16 @namjoons-crabssss @baefys-world @namioom @20forty9 @cicithemess2000 @hailssss222 @cityofvoldemort-blog @snow30285 @serenssuga @miguelluvrinnit @sammywammy1 @dameronshandholder @moonlight-fox @miwagila @alexthebootyeater420 @mariaatp @10-jiku2 @uselsshuman @cookiezxx @randomhumans-blog @mothsicn @gingerdissapointment @outspokenmatters @cookieshakr @alex-river1 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @luna-usagi-chan @icantsleeplol809 @tiredweeb7 @4ishere @i-heart-marvel @mooomeadows @king-julian6201 @local-mr-frog @superbjealousy @wonwuz @lokisnumber1whore @deloe18 @all4koo @gothicgay14 @perrins161 @ghost-with-a-teacup @addictedtothefictionalworld @stevenknightmarc @loxbbg @some-lovely-day @thisisanaccountokaydus @keepingitlokiii @stevenknightmarc @maxi-ride @juneonhoth @fa1rybubbl3z @strxngegirl @iytatsworld @dilfrs @stfugenderfuck @ben-is-a-hoe @coralineyouareinterribledanger @fallinallinmendes @im-sure-its-fine @mirophobic

[oldwritingm]

Creepypasta/MH - Doing Halloween Stuff With Them :)

(Characters: Tim/Masky, Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Jane the Killer, Ticci Toby)

Tim/Masky

Hear me out... corn maze

I believe that Tim enjoys a good puzzle every now and again

He loves trying to figure things out (specifically when there's nothing at risk)

Getting to show off his navigational skills is also a major plus

He just likes to impress you, even if it comes off as annoying sometimes

"See? What'd I tell you? The exit's right there."

Though he does like the satisfaction of completing the maze, what he really treasures is that time you spend together figuring it out

Once you finally find the exit, you'll celebrate with hot cocoa :D

Eyeless Jack

This man LOVES carving pumpkins

He goes all out; definitely one of those people who makes the crazy intricate designs that look like they take hours

He'll love it if you help him!

If you have a steady hand, he'll let you do the details

If you don't, he'll task you with gutting the pumpkin/handing him tools

You guys collaborate on multiple pumpkins throughout the month, setting them in random locations for everyone to see

If there's a design you want to do, just show it to him, there's no question he'll be down

If it's too simplistic, he'll try to add more details

"Ooh, Jack, look at this one. Can we try to re-create it?"

"Of course! Though I do have some ideas on how it can be improved..."

Jeff the Killer

Another pumpkin carving enjoyer

But for a different reason... a very different reason

He loves the goriness of gutting the pumpkins

He couldn't care less about making actual designs, he just wants to get messy stabbing the pumpkin and gouging out its insides

That being said, he'll 100% gut your pumpkin if you ask him (he'll probably end up doing it even if you don't ask)

It's honestly a little disturbing watching him work

He just gets this look in his eye...

"You, uh... you doing okay there, Jeff?"

"Hm? Yup! Never better!! Say, can you grab the big knife from the kitchen for me?"

Nina the Killer

You best bet she's the costume queen

Spends the whole year planning matching horror-themed costumes

She'll settle for no less than creativity and perfection

High-quality props and articles only!! She'll even make them herself if she has to!

You can expect to spend at least an hour in front of the mirror while she does your makeup/adjusts your clothes

She's an SFX makeup legend, loves incorporating as much gore into your costume as possible

Don't ask why it's so realistic (it's not like she knows how the wound would look if it was real or anything)

"Wow, Nina... It's almost like I can feel it! It's so real!"

"No, no. If you were feeling it, you would be screaming pretty loud right now."

You can also expect to attend multiple parties where you show off your costumes

You guys dominate costume competitions

Jane the Killer

Horror movies!!

Specifically, making fun of them

You both pick apart the plot, the characters, the dialogue, the special effects, everything

No horror film is safe from your scrutiny

If you're the type to get scared during horror movies, her snide comments will help distract you

"Ooh, I can't look!"

"Oh, come on. Look—I bet they used corn syrup for that fake blood. It's way too thick."

When the movie ends, you're both feeling more amused than scared

She doesn't like to see horror films in theaters because she doesn't get to make commentary, plus she doesn't want to "waste" money on a "stupid tryhard-horror flick"

She'd much rather dig up some old indie DVD/VCR and have a home movie night with you

Ticci Toby

Halloween sweets are his bread and butter

Candy apples, fun-sized candy bars, candy corn, pumpkin bread...

He would perish if you made anything homemade for him

Spends the whole month gorging on sweets almost as fast as he can get his hands on them

He will not share with anyone but you

And even you only get a small portion of his goodies

Robs at least one child on Halloween night, mostly for the candy but also because he likes scaring little kids

"Where did you get all that candy?"

"Got it from a little birdy. By that I mean a kid in Falcon cosplay."

"Toby! ... save me the (favorite candy)."

Thank you for reading! Have a good day/night my spooky pookies <33

(divider by saradika)

[lillyspeakz]

wilbur surprising you at college graduation.

-

It was exhilarating. Finally walking across that stage and being done with the endless amounts of stress and work, finally being able to go and do great things. You majored in editing and film, loving the little details people forgot to look into and the art people created. It took you a bit, and a lot of tears, but you did it.

You walked out of the building, smile on your face, diploma in hand. You carried your cap in one hand, gently swaying it to not ruin the decorations you placed on the fabric. You spotted your family in the distance, picking up your pace as you rushed out of the crowd. Once you were a good enough distance away, you ran into their arms, laughs and smiles being shared as well as congratulations being spread all around.

“We’re so proud of you. Our baby’s all grown up..” your mom said as you smiled down at her, cooing at her and telling her not to cry as everyone laughed and told you how bad she was sobbing when you were called up, your father even joining in, and arming a slap to the chest.

“Oh! We have a surprise for you…” your sibling smirked at you as you looked at your family, eyebrows furrowed as you looked around. Finally you looked behind them, seeing him standing there with a bouquet of flowers and a nervous smile on his face.

“Wil!” You screamed as you push passed your family, sprinting towards him. He quickly set the gifts in his hands down just in time for you to crash into him. Thankfully he was stable enough to not fall, catching you in his hold, squeezing you in his embrace, making sure you both knew this was real.

Tears fell down your face as you laughed at the realization he was actually here, with you and touching you. As he placed you back on the ground, pulling away from you with a smile, he cupped your face in his hands and placed his lips on yours.

The kiss wasn’t rushed or needy. It was all love and pent up affection that needed to be realized. It was sweet and gentle, his thumbs rubbing your cheek bones as your own held his wrist and rubbed his pulse point.

Pulling away, you placed your forehead in his with a laugh as he laughed with you. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on tour asshole!” You slapped his chest as he pulled you back into him, arms around your neck as his hand played with your hair.

“I may have lied to you when I said I didn’t have enough time between shows. Which leads me to my next question-“

“If you ask me to marry you-“

“Damn how did you know-“ he laughed at your gasp, eyes wide as you grabbed onto his hand in shock. “I’m joking! Would you wanna join us on tour? It did just start and we have plenty of places to go still.” Wilbur asked as your eyes stayed wide, mouth agape as you took in this new found information.

“If you don’t i will-“ your sibling cut in, making you flick them off, earning laughs all around. Looking back at Wilbur, you shook your head with a smile on your face.

“Fuck it why not! I have nothing to do anymore.” You exclaimed as Wilbur hugged you once more, picking you up in his hold and twirling you around.

“Thank fuck. I already told the boys you were coming along-“

“So you were going to force me to come either way?!”

“Well not force, more like persuade-“

taglist: @number1wilburfan @cloverlilly91 @heartofwritiing @horny-p0et @xxvalentinezxx @evil-peanut-butter-addict-sam (wanna be added? Ask or dm me!)

[desmon1995]

Zippity Zow! The Wacky Comeback of the Concept Album.

With the news that both LMM and Eisa Davis are going to be spending this year predominantly working on the Broadway adaptation of the Warriors concept album, it's gotten me to really think about the art of the concept album.

A concept album isn’t just a collection of songs—it’s a complete story, woven together through lyrics, sounds, and recurring motifs. Unlike your average soundtrack, which often serves as a backdrop, a concept album invites you to dive deeper, asking why certain choices were made and how the musicality enhances the narrative. Once a celebrated art form, the concept album has become a rarity, a fading craft that challenges listeners to experience music as more than just entertainment, but as an intricate and intentional work of storytelling.

It’s a real loss, especially when you consider Broadway’s deep ties to the concept album—a format that has given us some of theater’s most groundbreaking works. *Jesus Christ Superstar* began as a concept album, with Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice experimenting to see if heavy metal could thrive in a theatrical setting. *Hamilton* was nearly released as a concept album before it transformed into a full-scale musical. And *Hadestown,* now a beloved Broadway classic, started as a raw, evocative concept album that laid the groundwork for its stage success. The concept album has long been a proving ground for innovation in musical theater, making its decline all the more bittersweet.

One of the beauties of a concept album is the freedom it gives you to imagine the story however you like, offering a level of creative engagement that most other mediums can’t match. This is especially evident in fan-made animatics, such as those inspired by Hamilton or more recently Epic: The Musical. These animatics use the songs as a foundation, enhancing them with stunning animation and storyboarding to bring new dimensions to the narrative. In some ways, this approach can achieve things that a traditional Broadway production can’t, unshackled from the constraints of budget or practicality, allowing the story to soar in ways limited only by imagination.

The reassuring thing is that at least thanks to the after mention epic and the grand topic of this thesis, the Warriors concept album it seems like the idea is at least being introduced to a newer generation of people.

One of the things I love most about The Warriors is how the cast is constantly reused in inventive ways, adding layers to the story through subtle connections. For example, Sasha Hushings, who plays Cowgirl, also provides the stepping for the Griffs during Lady Cyrus's introduction, seamlessly blending roles.

Another standout detail is Elan from the Hurricanes, whose haunting voice warns, “Folks go missing at the park at night.” Not only does this emphasize the impact the Hurricanes left on the Warriors, but it also foreshadows Ajax's downfall and Fox's eventual fate.

There’s also the chilling moment in Derailed, where Lin-Manuel Miranda, Colman Domingo, Lin’s sons, and the actors voicing the other gangs become the eerie screams of the converted—a haunting touch that amplifies the tension.

Even the cops’ distinctive “Yooo-Hooo” whistle serves a dual purpose: it mimics the sound of police sirens and symbolizes their taunting, predatory nature, making them feel like hunters circling their prey. These layers of detail elevate the experience, making the world of The Warriors feel immersive and meticulously crafted.

I could go on about the little intricacies, but I think you guys get my drift.

It's going to be really fulfilling to see the Warriors come to life on stage considering the film is known for its visual finesse, however I am going to miss that element of imagination you get by just imagining how things play out especially since we've been stuck with the album for a little over several months now.

[stormblessed95]

Who Thoughts and Theories

First, it's such a good song. I'm genuinely so in love with it, with Jimins vocals, with his dance, with his backup dancers. I'm so impressed with how hard he worked and all the choices he contributed to it. While this is the only song on the album that Jimin doesn't have writing credits on, he was still very much involved in every aspect of the songs creation and it was written with the feelings Jimin wished to portray. I talk briefly about what I believe the overall feelings that Jimin was trying to express in the album Muse, here:

And of course because you should refresh yourself on the song and get that extra stream in before you read....

I'll otherwise just be talking about what I think, my thoughts, my feelings and my theories about Who, the song and the MV in this post. These are of course just my opinions, coming from my perspectives. You are free to agree or disagree as much as you want.

First, I want to say that regardless of the pronouns used in the song, I don't think it has any bearing on Jimins sexuality. People (read: homophobes) cannot use this song as a way to try to say Jimin can't be queer. Not only is that nonsensical and ignoring the fact that Jimin would be closeted if he is queer. But it's also ignoring the way Jimin speaks about the song, which is solely in gender neutral terms. From the original lyrics being "you" instead of "she."

To the way he says "people" instead of "girls/women" about the scene where people walk past him as the options of who he could be looking for. Along with the fact that the billboard with a man's eyes drop right after he sings "who is my heart Waiting for?"

The way that Jimin dances with both men and women and the scene then when they come together, it's absolutely giving west side story. Which is my personal opinion. Which one of the themes of west side story is love striving to rise above the hatred.... And idk about you, but I think that can easily relate to queer love as well. But again, personal opinion only! So this BS that I know everyone rolled their eyes at with the "this proved he is straight" nonsense, is at its core.... Nonsense...

Speaking of his dance, this thread has absolutely nothing to do with what I'll talk about in this post but is so cool and FULL of Jimin appreciation and you should check it out if you want!

Jimin switched aspect ratios of film during his MV of Who. An ARMY linked together all the times he changed ratios, which you can watch here:

As well as going through multiple different types of media: television, comic strips, movie, billboards, etc. Jimin is showing us multiple different storylines within his MV. This same person from above goes into great detail about how all this can show the various details of storylines and storytelling. It's a good read, worth checking out

It's super interesting the way the words play across the screen during certain parts of the MV and how it changes the screen ratios as well. I would love an actual interpretation from Jimin or the MV director over what they actually mean or if it was just in the 90s theme with zero correlation or meanings, but I doubt we will ever get that. So all we can do is guess and make our own interpretations. Which will be affected by our own personal biases. That's the beauty of art though!

The ones I'll point out that I'll say something about are:

Play, both in the corners at times and on the little TV's around the MV

Auto calibration, with the burning wrecked car, where the words flash quickly across the screen at the bottom, right before hand too, the screen ratio had changed again too. And it changes again as he does his partner choreo with the girl

Rewind, which appears during the bridge. Right after the billboard falls and the screen ratio had changed again

And then pause at the very end before the whole screen cuts.... And then we get the end screen with the words play again, basically looping the video, and the Smeraldo Flower

So let's talk about it!

It's interesting that the video basically loops, it's really giving storytelling. Jimin being an actor basically. "Play" being inside the story for the most part. And it's interesting that those parts happen right before a lot of the partnering choreo too. Auto calibration means bringing something back into an acceptable range. Which if we relate this at all to queerness, it's absolutely giving "don't stray too far out of that closet." And it does happen right after Jimin dances with men, before dancing with the woman again. And play is back in the little TV's. It's giving, trying to be perfect and fit into expectations and be in the perfect storybook. And at the end, Jimin is left behind by all the dancers and the billboard drops at "who is my heart Waiting for" and it's clearer and clearer that it really is most likely JKs eyes. If not, it's absolutely a man's eyes and that is screaming queer energy. And even if it is just a promo of some kind, since we don't know the connection between the eyes, JK, "keep going" and AYS yet, it's WILD to put Jikook promo in this type of love song. And yet, these are the two that publicly claimed the song serendipity as theirs. So it tracks.

And when we get to rewind, it's at the same time as he is talking about "people" walking by him as potentials for his perfect match, as well as how he is not able to "match" any of the women he attempts to meet with through dance in his short walk. It is also right after that billboard with ?Jungkook? drops too. Interesting. Trying to get back into the original story perhaps? Perhaps it's not working so well?

Pause. Off. Smeraldo Flower which represents the Truth Untold.... Speaking yourself. Loving yourself. Being true to who you are..... Which is maybe not what was the perfect story that was being depicted through the MV. Who knows! But that is the end. Just to loop around and start again with Play. Where he literally tells us with Muse to "please misunderstand." Again, just interesting. And if you are following my thoughts here, you already know why that is "interesting."

It's giving closeted queer energy and it's giving I like people, not genders and it's giving love.

Which brings me to the very LAST thing I want to talk about. Sorry, I know this is already SO LONG. Jimin is singing amongst natural disasters. So did V and JK actually too. They are singing about declaring love in the middle of some kind of disaster. And I can't stop thinking about that honestly.

It's giving peak grand gesture kinda romance. It's giving intimacy found between two people in love no matter where they are or how loud the world might be around them. It's giving raw and honest declarations of intent and love type vibes. And i just love that they are into and going for that exaggerated confession scene and storybook kinda romance. It's absolutely tracks for who they are as people and the romance they've all talked about wanting too. And who else do we know who always seems to like doing grand gesture type romantic BS for someone else?

Anyway! This is the feeling that people write epic romances about. Your favorite ships? It's the same type of feeling that's inspired here. Let me try to explain this in some kinda way....

It's a trope. "Love conquers all" where it doesn't matter what life throws at you. All the trials, the tribulations, the natural disasters, the normal disasters, any and all shortcomings or failures you might face in life.... The moment of being with the one you love? Of being vulnerable and baring your soul with another person who means the world to you? Making sure they understand how much they mean to you and how much you love them? That's always going to be the most important thing and moment. That is the significance of the intimacy and the romance displayed.

It's the peak, idealistic version of the best relationship you could find yourself in. Nothing and no one matters more than the moments you create with your loved one, even in the middle of a raging horrific apocalyptic disaster ridden world.

And how sometimes, just building up to that confession can make things feel like a horrific apocalyptic disaster ridden world, until you confess. And you let those feelings out. And it's okay. All those disasters quiet down, maybe you even start to enjoy the rain. It was your emotions all along. And then you discover that hey, maybe the reason I'm feeling so calm now is actually BECAUSE of this person I love. Being with them calms my mind, brings me safety, happiness and joy.

Sometimes, in the middle of all the madness and chaos of the world... You are only minutes away from finding that moment with that person that's going to give you something infinite. Something that no natural disaster can destroy or take away from you. Something, and/or someone, so precious.

And there is something so beautiful in depicting this in their love songs. It's inspirational. As well as humorous in regards to Seven. Lol

I'll just finish this off with a link to this twitter user as this moment just came out, and it's about rebirth, but I do low-key agree with them here 😂

And anyway, that was my essay! Lol if you read all of this. Bless you and thank you! You are appreciated! A reminder that this is all just personal opinions. You are free to agree or disagree as you choose!

[scekrex]

okay so @ultimateissuessimp had this amazing idea of writing Adam x reader but as that TikTok trend, y'know the one in which one partner calls their significant other brother/sister. So I wrote it bc fuck yeah, reader that sneaky bitch would do that.

Going viral

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, mention of Adam fucking reader, this is a crack fic and nothing more, don't take it fucking serious it's just for the lolz

note: not beta read bc idc

You were in the middle of a conversation with Adam, just walking through the streets on your way to go have dinner together.

The sunset you both got to experience was beautiful, the sky was painted in a soft mix between pink and purple and you loved every single bit of it. That was until Lute decided to join the both of you, rudely she started to talk over you as you were trying to explain something to Adam.

“Sir we-” you however were quick to react. One of your hands held her back by her shoulder while the other was planted on Adam's sternum to push him backwards - just a little though. “If you wanna get to him,” you started and Adam sighed in the background, mumbling something about how he just wanted dinner, “You have to go through me.”

Adam grabbed your wrist, moved your hand away from his sternum and stepped up to stand beside you, “You have to go through me,” he repeated, his voice imitating yours. You simply grabbed him by his collar with one hand and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “He’s the best big brother ever,” you stated, directing your words at Lute. There was not a single detail that screamed sarcasm yet she seemed to catch onto it, “Y’know Adam's been here way longer than you, right?”

Adam just stared at the two of you, a confused and surprised, “The fuck?” was coming from him the surprise in his voice caused a little voice crack. “He’s always protecting me,” you directed your words to Lute again, seeming way too serious about this. Adam looked down at you, clearly not understanding what the fuck was going on. You turned around to look at him with the softest expression you had to offer, “Don’t act surprised, babes.” You wrapped your arm around Adam's waist, pulling him in a little, ”We don't have to hide our love anymore,” you shoved the hand that had been busy holding Lute back in her face, showing off the ring Adam had got you when you first started dating - it's been a few thousand years since that but that didn't make the ring any less important, “I’m gonna wear that ring with pride.”

Adam just seemed to have a malfunction, his eyes were filled with so much confusion that you almost had to laugh, “The fuck is wrong with you, bitch?” he eventually asked, “We’re not fucking si-” he was quickly cut off by you, “He’s just embarrassed.”

The two of you didn't even notice that Lute took a few steps backwards to film the little situation as it played out.

Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly as you tried to pull him in but he resisted, “C’mon babes, gimme a kiss like siblings do.” Adam just pulled away even more, a mix of confusion and disgust reflected in his golden eyes, “Nah, get the fuck away from me.” You kept holding onto his neck though, which forced Adam to bend down because he was so much taller than you. “Let the fuck go, bitch, I'm not your fucking brother, I'm your fucking boyfriend,” the first man stated, which caused you to smile warmly, “Babes you can be both.”

Adam tried to get out of your grip, “He’s hurting me, he's fucking hurting me,” the brunette yelled, causing Lute to giggle a little. “Get him the fuck away from me, Lute!” But she had other plans, because instead of helping Adam she continued to record the scene in silence. “That’s what you do for love,” you smiled at Adam, “No matter if it's your brother or not.”

The first man managed to get out of your grip and took a step back, his finger pointing right at you, “I hate you,” he said clearly while moving his finger up and down, “I love you, but I hate you.”

However, you were quick to snatch his collar again and pulled him down yet another time, “Gimme a kiss, big guy,” you whispered against his lips before kissing Adam again, a little softer and less playful this time. A little more like you usually kissed him. Adam seemed to quickly melt into the kiss because his hands that had just tried to shove you away again were quickly wrapped around your hips. When you pulled away you grinned against his lips and murmured, “Best big brother ever.”

With a groan he pulled his arms from your body and took yet again a step back, “I swear to fucking god, if you call me big brother again-” he interrupted himself, his hands came up to massage his temples as he tried to deal with the situation. “Then what?” you challenged him with a wicked smirk on your lips as you leaned against his arm. “Then I'm gonna fuck your ass hard enough to prevent you from leaving the house for the next fucking week.” The only response he got to that was Lute making a gagging sound as she stopped recording.

“That shit will go fucking viral,” she chuckled as she posted the video on social media.

“Lute!” Adam yelled as his face turned red from embarrassment.