Carol Airds Lil Belivet

Darcy: When you can't sleep, it means someone is thinking about you.

Wanda: Who the hell would be thinking about me at 3am?

Agatha, to Wanda: Do you feel safe, hun?

Agatha: It's my to-do list.

Monica: Oh that's great! You're starting to be-

Monica:

IS ANYONE ON “Veronica open the door” TIKTOK?!?

IMAGNE AGATHA DOING THAT THOUGH!

“You were meant to be mine!

I am all that you need!

You carved open my heart!

Can't just leave me to bleed!

Y/N, open the—open the door, please'

Y/N, open the door.

Y/N, can we not fight anymore'

Please, can we not fight anymore'

Y/N, sure, you're scared,

I've been there. I can set you free!

Y/N, don't make me come in there!

I'm gonna count to three!

(Spoken) One! Two! Fuck it!”

Wanda: Agatha is not allowed to accept dares.

Darcy: Why not?

Wanda:

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Tag List: @danvers97 @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov @queennoella087 @emril-osvigne

A/N: I’m lagging behind a bit but I’m trying to get back on track over the next few days - excuse me pls xxx

Find parts 1-10 ✨ HERE ✨

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Day 11 - Pumpkin Spice

Art by @flungoutofspacebelivets ✨🥰

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An angry mob of raindrops drums against the living room window on a cold Saturday afternoon. There is a thunderstorm roaming around outside of a beautiful house in the midst of Westview, New Jersey, that Wanda and Agatha call their home.

The witches are huddled together on their tiny reading couch, enjoying their day off in the calming fall atmosphere. Next to them, there is a tiny coffee table, holding two mugs of pumpkin spice latte that Wanda made while the older woman busied herself by re-sorting the wood in the fire place on the other side of the room.

Absently, the Agatha has been stroking Wanda’s hair for several minutes, who silently hums a calming song as she turns the pages of a poetry book on her lap. She is searching for a specific poem as the two of them find comfort in reading together in silence, but the brunette has misplaced the bookmark after their last session.

She untangles her hand from Wanda’s hair and proceeds to bite down on her finger, waiting in anticipation for the other woman to find the right page.

“There it is,” Wanda exclaims, giggling in excitement, “my favorite witch’s favorite poem.”

Both scan the pages in silence again until Agatha releases a long breath. “Witches are so powerful. Ugh.”

Wanda nods, turning to the next page. “Yes love, we know. Now shush. I am reading.”