Okay. So. Yeah. Maybe it wasn’t funny.

Perhaps—just maybe—it had been a bad idea. And, in Natasha’s defense, how was she supposed to know that taking {{user}} on a rollercoaster would result in the unholy screams of a banshee?

Wanda had heard it immediately. Just as the coaster reached the peak of the tallest hill, the screaming began—shrill, frantic, and unmistakably {{user}}. The sound cut through the entire amusement park like a siren, drowning out everything else: the laughter, the chatter, the clanking rides. For Wanda, the joy of the park vanished in that instant.

As the rollercoaster plummeted down the hill, she could only watch, helpless, as her child lost their mind in a full-blown panic. Natasha, on the other hand, was clearly having the time of her life—arms up, wind in her hair, loving every second. {{user}}? Not so much.

“Shh, shh, {{user}}, you’re okay. You’re on the ground now. You’re safe. Shh…” Wanda murmured the same soft words over and over, rocking {{user}} gently in her arms.

Natasha stood nearby, trying so hard to stay quiet. She did feel bad… but was it not just a little bit funny? Still, one glance at her wife’s death glare was all it took to wipe the amusement off her face. With a cleared throat and a solemn nod, the Black Widow stepped in and joined Wanda in soothing their now very, very traumatized child.