#ch england

[ask-the-countryhumans]

Idk. Maybe Germany lost his med license by stealing a mans skeleton?

England grimaced, “The worst part is, I can actually see that happening—“

Germany chimed in, “Not true! I never had a medic license! That’s Switzerland’s job, and I’m no job stealer! Yet—“

“What about the skeleton?” England asked.

“The what?”

“The skeleton, you-you didn’t…You didn’t say that it wasn’t true. You didn’t do that right…?” England asked, a bit worried. However Germany didn’t give him any response.

“Right???”

[amaryria]

Headcanons of the Day/HOTD 3

Hotd: Denmark made a lego pine tree keychain for Norway and England

Reason? The Trafalgar Square tree

Wikipedia page explaining but tldr its norway's way of saying thanks to england for helping them in world war 2

[perioddramata]

Romola Garai as MARY I OF ENGLAND BECOMING ELIZABETH (2022) | 1.06 - “What Cannot Be Cured”

[merakislaughter]

lil shout out to my pal! she’s cool. has only written like three short stories but when she makes something it’s worth reading.

i dont have polled yet so

The Death of West; The Life of East

(A/N: I'll write something cheerful one day.

But that day.

Is not today. :D)

"EJ?"

That voice. He couldn't get himself to place it. It was too fuzzy. Too drowned out by the ringing in his ears.

"East...? Are you alright?"

He looked at the speaker, but his vision was blurred. He couldn't make anything out but smudges of color.

He leaned against the doorway (Doorway? Wasn't he at the cliffs?) for support as he tried to calm down and take a deep breath, but he was too choked up to manage anything.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he breathe? Why couldn't he stop shaking? Why was his face wet? Was he crying? He didn't cry.

A worried Connecticut put down the muddy shoe he was cleaning and approached the distressed colony standing in the front door.

"What happened?" He asked, thoroughly concerned as he guided his little brother to a chair, "Where's West?"

West. West was just with him, where did he go?

East Jersey thought back and tried to recall.

He remembered going with West to Elias Green's tavern an hour and a half ago.

Then they were thrown out thirty minutes later for... EJ got into an argument with Abner, right? It broke into a fight? West got involved and tried to break the two up. Elias thought he was joining in, so he threw all three of them out before they destroyed anything.

EJ was livid. He wanted to get some fresh air and clear his head, so he asked WJ to come with him to the...

Oh God, East's eyes widened as his face paled, The Palisades.

The final memories came rushing back to him;

West agreed to come. The two were talking. Joking around. Goofing off and walking by the edge. The sun was setting.

East was in the lead, ranting about the fight and how he was sorry for dragging his twin into it.

West was listening, saying it wasn't a big deal, and then... he cried out. EJ thought he was joking, since the two often did that to try to scare one another, but when he turned around to give his twin an incredulous look, he was... gone.

And that's when East heard the impact of the fall.

He made himself look over the edge, and... and... 

East hung his head and sobbed. He killed his brother. 

He killed his brother. It was his fault. 

If he just sucked up his bitterness and went home with West, none of this would of happened.

If he was simply more mature about the argument and walked away to enjoy his night, none of this would of happened.

If he never suggested to go to Elias's in the first place, none of this would of—

"...East."

That uneasy voice. Those footsteps. The shoes entering his field of vision. None of them were Connecticut's. They belonged to someone else.

Someone who started feeling distressed the second West fell, despite being oblivious to the entire situation. Someone who felt that unexplainable despair three times before.

Eyes overflowing with tearful remorse, EJ looked up to his father.

"...Vader, I... West..." East choked out, "H... He's..."

EJ trailed off and let out a shuddering breath. The colony couldn't even bear the thought of saying it, much less get it out. He dreaded the words too much. He couldn't do it. It would make everything... real. 

He didn't want it to be.

Luckily, he didn't have to. His shred of an answer confirmed Roanoke's fears.

The retired colony crouched down by his son and gently wiped his tears with a trembling hand, not noticing his own starting to fall freely in silence.

After a long moment, he found his ability to speak.

"...I know," Roanoke admitted, broken voice scarcely above a whisper, "I... I felt it..."

EJ tried his hardest to fight down his sobs. He failed. It wasn't long until he was on his knees and crying into his dad's shirt, clinging to him as if letting go would make him disappear into the wind.

Roanoke sat on the floor and wrapped his arms around East in a tight hug, bowing his head and shaking with his own cries as he held his mourning son close.

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Roanoke stood watching from a distance, pulled to the side by Kingdom of England.

He was shaky and as pale as a ghost, rueful eyes tinted red from prior tears while his kingdom spoke to him in hushed tones with a cold expression.

It looked almost as if England was lecturing him. As if Roanoke was a bratty child needing a stern talking-to, instead of being the mourning parent in need of comfort he was.

Connecticut looked away. It hurt to watch. It's not like the view of West Jersey's freshly covered grave in front of him felt any better to observe, but there was nothing he could do to help his father in that situation. As an English colony, he'd only make it worse. Connecticut could only listen while England grieved his grandson in his own screwed up way by blaming his son.

"An accident? I couldn't care less about it being an 'accident.' I care about you keeping my grandchildren alive!"

"I... I care about that, too!" The other argued, "You know I do! More than anything—!"

England cut Roanoke off by jerking his hand up, earning a wince from his son before he motioned to a distant hill covered in poppies, decorated by a single carefully crafted gravestone. 

He then jerked his hand in the other direction, towards a perfectly lovely spot under a large willow tree. Or at least a spot that seemed perfectly lovely, until you see the tombstone marked with the lifespan of nine years. 

Finally, he pointed to a garden about fourty yards away, yet another tombstone peaking through the flowers.

Popham, Saybrook, and New Haven.

"Then start acting like it, Ro. It's a simple task! It's incredible how easy it is for you to mess things up!" England snapped, glowering, "I can't believe how irresponsible you are! Without me, the rest of your children would of been in the ground years ago."

"I..."

"You, what?"

"It wasn't my..." Roanoke continued, seeming unsure if he believed his own words, "I don't see how this is my fau—"

"Of course it's your fault! Who else is there to blame? The cliff? East?"

Connecticut glanced to the twin of the deceased beside him, feeling a sting of sadness at East's cringe of guilt.

Without a word, East Jersey's older brother took his hand and guided him away from the one-sided argument, the sounds of England convincing their father he was to blame growing distant.

He was a little happy New York wasn't listening. Connecticut wasn't sure if he could've held him back from fighting with England, a scenario that would've worsened Roanoke's situation. 

Instead, the spitfire of a colony was comforting New Netherland— Connecticut, New York, and the Jerseys' own mother— as she adorned her late son's resting place with flowers. At least, he was trying to. The retired Dutch colony was justifiably inconsolable.

Once the gravesite, weeping mother, and arguing relatives were out of view and earshot, East... Province of New Jersey yanked his arm out of Connecticut's grasp.

"...East—"

"I'm fine," New Jersey snapped, rubbing his wrist, "You don't need to worry about me like a mother hen. I know what I did, there's no use in ignoring it."

"It wasn't your fault," Connecticut insisted, "You know how Grandfather gets, he was just going off on a tangent and spewing bull—"

"I'm not say it was Father's fault, I'm saying it was mine."

"That's not what I—"

"Then shut up!" New Jersey hissed, "Just... leave me alone!"

"Ea—"

New Jersey held his hand up with a glare, silencing Connecticut before turning and storming away.

"East, please—"

New Jersey shoved between and past Massachusetts and Rhode Island, who were walking side by side in Connecticut's direction.

"The hell...?" Rhode Island muttered, glancing behind him, "Why's he so livid all of a sudden? What happened, River?"

"I... " Connecticut replied, feeling lost, "...I think I ticked him off?"

"How?"

"I don't... know."

Rhode Island seemed unsatisfied with the poor excuse of an answer.

"...Well," RI reasoned, "There had to be something—"

"Or nothing," Massachusetts finished calmly, straightening the sleeve New Jersey messed up when bumping into him.

His younger half-brothers looked to him, eyes imploring him to elaborate.

"He's... His temper is a little unruly today," Massachusetts went on, "He yelled at me over putting his shoes in his room instead of leaving them by the back door this morning."

"Yell?" Rhode Island asked incredulously, "Are you sure? East never yells about trivial things like that."

"He... has a lot on his mind. For him to have to see West... to see... Lord Almighty, I couldn't imagine..."

Massachusetts trailed off, but the others understood.

"He's..." Rhode Island spoke up after a brief pause, "He'll be fine, right?"

"...Grief comes in many different ways for everyone," The Bay Colony explained, "At the moment, East's way is anger. Just... give him some space. He doesn't really want to offend or hurt you. He's just... getting over something. We all are. Be patient with him."

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Patience. That can get used up quickly.

Everyone tried their best to stay patient with Jersey. Many tried to comfort him to no avail, so they resorted to walking on eggshells around him while he mourned.

For the days that followed, everyone fought down the urge to hold a grudge with him when he lashed out. The weeks that followed were designed with the same pattern. Then the months. Then the year...

It wasn't long until the one and a half years mark struck, when someone's well of patience finally dried up.

"Can you please shut the hell up already!?" New York exclaimed, shooting up from his seat and slamming the table, "We get it! You're a total ass! Now eat your damn porridge before I do everyone a favor and shove it down your throat!"

After he broke the ice, one by one, the colonies slowly stopped spending all their patience on New Jersey.

"It's been months. I really don't think he's mourning anymore... I'm starting to think he's simply gotten used to walking all over us," Rhode Island ranted to Delaware, "I'm sick of letting him. He's fine, probably more than fine with the way we've been inflating his ego."

In truth, New Jersey wasn't alright. At all.

He still tormented himself over West Jersey's death. He hasn't had a single good night's sleep since it happened. He was still angry. Mostly at himself, but his self-hatred seeped into the way he interacted with others. By the time he realized what he was doing and reigned it in, it was too late.

His siblings looked at him differently, and not in the good way. Whenever he approached one of them, they seemed prepared for an argument. Every time he tried to show some kindness, they were suspicious.

Whether they realized it or not, they treated him like he was a terrible person. It didn't take much for him to start believing them.

He didn't feel like East Jersey anymore. He felt like some sort of irredeemable monster. 

Maybe that's all he can be.

He was tired of trying to prove them wrong.

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

"There's no way."

"There is! I swear, that's what Massachusetts said!"

"Then I want what Mass is smoking," North Dakota joked, cutting vegetables for dinner, "Jers was never cuddly, even when he was a colony."

"How do you know?" South Dakota retorted, putting some bread in the oven, "You weren't alive when he was a colony."

"Because I asked Georgia. She says he's always been the same."

Connecticut listened to the two as he washed a couple recently used measuring cups, back facing them.

It was odd for him to remember pre-1702 New Jersey. He was a totally different person back then, one Georgia never got to know. She was born in 1732, thirty years after the Garden State's jarring personality shift.

He almost wanted to speak up and explain that to the Dakotas, but he knew they wouldn't believe him. None of the younger states ever did.

He guessed it was a little unimaginable to them, to think that the quickest to anger state they knew their entire lives was once one of the most huggable people in the world.

Connecticut glanced out the kitchen window above the sink, getting lost in his thoughts as he watched New Jersey weed his garden.

He missed the brothers he lost in 1702. Both of them.

After a moment of zoning out, a tap on his arm brought him back to reality. 

"Uhm... Uncle Nutmeg?" Central Jersey asked, timidly pointing to the measuring cup in Connecticut's hand, "It's clean now. You don't have to keep rinsing it."

"Oh! Right," Connecticut realized sheepishly, handing the kitchenware to the self-appointed dish dryer, "Sorry CJ."

The kid hummed happily as he finished drying the measuring cup, placing it in it's drawer.

"All done!" He smiled, "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Connecticut turned off the faucet and shook his head.

"Nope! That's it," CT said, ruffling the little one's hair, "Thanks for the help!"

Central Jersey gave a little laugh at the hair ruffling, filling Connecticut with a sense of nostalgia.

A scene of East and West Jersey giggling the same way played in his mind. They were about Central's age at the time, helping Connecticut take care of the horses. After a couple hours of work, the two proudly went up to him and declared that they were done. He remembered thanking them with a grin before reaching out and ruffling the two rascals' hair.

The bittersweet memory sent a pang of longing through Connecticut's heart. He missed them. He missed them so much.

Having Central Jersey around was a blessing for everyone, in that regard. He was just like his father when he was his age. It helped... stifle the pain, a little. CJ helped patch up whatever holes the Jersey twins left behind in everybody's hearts.

Speaking of which...

"Central! I didn't know you were dropping by today!"

Central's eyes widened at the sound of America's voice, spinning around and rushing into his grandpa's outstretched arms for a hug.

"I thought you were out today!" The boy exclaimed, hugging the tall country.

"Out of my mind? Probably. Out of the house? Nope!" America grinned, "So, what brings you into our neck of the woods?"

"Mom has some work to take care of tonight, so she's picking me up tomorrow morning!"

"Ah, so she dropped you off with your old man?"

"She...! She... dropped me off with my old man," Central Jersey agreed, excitement seeming a little dampened at the mention of his dad. 

America exchanged a knowing glance with Connecticut.

"Have you seen him yet?"

Central Jersey hesitantly shook his head, "...I don't think he'd want to see me."

"...Aw, c'mon. I'm sure that's not—"

New Jersey opened the kitchen door and kicked his muddy boots off, trudging in with a basket of tomatoes. He placed them on the counter and turned around to go back out to the garden.

America cleared his throat.

New Jersey paused, hand hovering over the doorknob. He gave an annoyed, drawn-out sigh as he turned around, "What did I do this—?" 

He stopped short and stared at Central Jersey.

"His mother," America answered, motioning to CJ, "You did his mother this time."

CJ offered a small wave.

An awkward silence fell upon the group.

"...Heyyy, CJ," New Jersey eventually greeted, seeming extremely uncomfortable, "How's it... going?"

"I'm... alright," Central Jersey smiled shyly, "You?"

"Fine, fine. Just... screwing around. And... stuff. So, your mom's still alive?"

"Uhm... Yes?"

"Ah. Cool, cool. That's... that's always nice..." New Jersey slowly opened the door, "Well... I'm gonna go. Seedlings don't water themselves. It was... nice seeing you."

"Yeah... It... It was nice seeing you too. I love—!"

New Jersey practically slammed the door on his way out.

"...You."

North Dakota crept up beside Central Jersey and wrapped an arm around him.

"Hey, kiddo," She started gently, "How about we let Dak finish up in the kitchen, and we can go see if anyone's up for a card game?"

Central Jersey's eyes lit up at the thought, "Cards Against Humanity?"

"I really shouldn't be letting someone your age play— Aw hell, why not? Everyone needs a bad influence in their life. Cards Against Humanity."

The two strolled away giddily, off to play a game Utah definitely banned from family game night.

Connecticut and South Dakota looked to their father.

"...I know, I'm... I'll go talk to him," America sighed, "Being a deadbeat father is a job for England, not a job for one of my sons."

With that, United States left through the door New Jersey just slammed.

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

"What was that?"

"A basket of tomatoes," New Jersey mumbled, not looking up from his weeding, "They're fruits. Italians worship them. You might recognize them from pizza sauce?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

New Jersey bit his lip and continued weeding, trying to ignore the presence of his father.

"...New Jersey."

"I'm busy."

"Jersey."

"Not now."

"Jers."

"I have to get these—"

"East.”

New Jersey froze.

"..." He stood up and brushed himself off, "...There's a name I haven't heard in awhile."

America followed New Jersey as he attempted to escape to the garden shed, "Why are you so against being there for Central?"

"I'm not... against it."

"Then why aren't you?"

New Jersey grabbed a watering can and trudged out of the shed, "...It's complicated."

"It's your son."

NJ turned on the hose.

"Unfortunately..." New Jersey muttered after the watering can was full, shutting off the hose and trudging to a group of seedlings.

America's eye twitched. He snatched the watering can from New Jersey and set it down beside him firmly, slapping NJ's hand away from it when he tried to reach for it.

New Jersey slowly withdrew his hand and looked down, not meeting America's eyes.

"Do you hear yourself right now?" America snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you? Inside that house is a kid who loves you more than anything, despite you not giving him a single damn reason to! All he wants is to have you in his life! If you keep this up, that's going to change."

"F%>k, I hope so."

"What the hell is wrong with you? You love him, don't you?"

New Jersey eyed the watering can in silence.

"...You love him," America tried again, attempting to control his frustration, "Don't you?"

"...Shut up."

"Jersey—"

"Shut the hell up!"

"You don't have to—!"

"I love him more than anything on this earth, dammit!"

"Then why—?"

"Because he doesn't need me! Because I'm the kind of person I want staying the hell away from him! Because I'd screw him the f%+k up! I'd ruin his life!" New Jersey exclaimed, "He doesn't need to know the... the monster of a person his dad is! I couldn't bear the thought of burdening someone as wonderful as him with me!"

America, taken aback by New Jersey's outburst, stayed silent in surprise.

"Lord, imagine if I actually influenced him? Imagine if he grew up to be like me?" New Jersey shook his head, full-on ranting now, "I couldn't live with that. He can't— He can't! I love him, dammit! I want to keep egotistical, selfish, awful, br— brother-murdering assholes away from him! I want to keep myself away—!"

America reached out to his distressed son, "...Jer—"

"I love him, I do! I'm so proud of him and everything he does! It— It hurts, having to stay away from him like this, but it has to be done! I don't deserve him! I'm- I'm irredeemable! Everyone knows this! This is all I can b—!"

America pulled New Jersey into a tight hug.

The Garden State trembled like a leaf in the wind, but made no moves to free himself.

"Th... This is all I—" He choked out, "All I can..."

"No. That's not— That's never been true, Jersey," America denied, gently rubbing NJ's back as he cried.

"You're— You're lying," New Jersey stuttered, "It's— It's always been... Since..."

"...Since when?" America asked gently, "How long have you felt...?"

"Since— Since I killed West..."

Oh Lord. West's death was 320 years ago. 

America felt like an absolute idiot for not noticing sooner.

Was he really too wrapped up in getting over England's accusations to realize that he might not be the only one feeling guilty?

"You didn't... kill West."

"I did."

"Did you push him off?"

New Jersey's eyes widened, "No, of course not!"

"So he fell off by himself? With no outside interference?"

New Jersey nodded.

"So you didn't kill him?"

"Ye— No!"

"Let's say, hypothetically, Michigan invited Ohio on a walk. On the way, Ohio tripped and fell into a pit of piranhas and was completely consumed, bones and all—"

"That's morbid, Dad."

"—Was it Michigan's fault?"

"Michigan probably put the piranhas there for revenge."

"Assuming he didn't, did he murder Ohio?"

"...No."

"So, when West Jersey fell; it wasn't your fault."

"That's different."

"How?"

"It just... is?"

"..."

"...Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"I can feel your stupid eyes judging me. Listen, if it wasn't my fault, who's was it?"

"...Nobody's," America sighed, "Sometimes, bad things happen, and as much as you hate it; there's no one to blame."

"I don't... That doesn't sound right."

"I know," America admitted, "But it's true."

"So what?" New Jersey huffed, "Let's say I didn't kill West, that doesn't change the fact that I'm a total piece of—"

"Hey! Don't talk about my son that way."

New Jersey's eye roll was almost audible.

"Like it or not Jers, you're redeemable," America decided confidently.

"Redemption?" New Jersey gave a mirthless laugh, "Please, I haven't even been able to get my grief about something that happened over three centuries ago to shrink."

"Grief doesn't... shrink."

"...What?"

"Trust me, it never does. It... It stays the same size forever. Life just grows around it."

"Life just... grows around it?" New Jersey looked up to America, "How can I make it do that?"

"I think... Therapy. Therapy might be a good start for you."

New Jersey snorted.

"What? I'm serious!"

New Jersey studied America's face.

"...Really?" He asked incredulously, "You're serious?"

"As the plague."

"Which one?"

America shrugged, "Any of them, pick your favorite."

"Black Death."

"Sure, I'm as serious as the bubonic plague."

"You..." New Jersey hesitated, realizing that America wasn't joking, "Really think it'll help, don't you?"

His father nodded, "I do, Jersey. I really do."

"Then... Maybe... For you, I'll... For— For Central, I'll..."

"It'll be okay, Jers. You'll be okay."

New Jersey nodded and took a deep breath.

"Alright," He said, giving a small, hopeful smile, "I'll go."

[k1ng0k]

To make it clear, UK is a closeted homosexual and hasn’t been open about it. He’s always liked men and only dated women to keep up appearances (also out of boredom).

[galaxy-blackbird]

Happy Pride month

France: bisexual

Canada: pansexual

Italy: gay

England: lesbian

UK: demisexual

Russia: closeted asexual

[renerosin]

Jude Bellingham | playing “Guess the Footballer”

[lady-lilly-gray]

look at my child my prince my beloved he's baaack

[whitehartlane]

are there any arsena1 players you've ever had a soft spot for?

i’ll be honest as soon as a player is contracted to that devil club i develop a hatred as deep as the seven seas for them … so no, none so far 😭

[novadraem]

Those headcanons(I don’t know what other way to describe them) and art I found, not only were they so outdated they just didn’t make any sense really?

[rejectshumanity]

sometimes i think about how dio’s life might have turned out if he got the childhood therapy he desperately needed

[the-busy-ghost]

No disrespect to the particular English accent that birthed this atrocity, we all have our own sins to atone for, but as a Scot I’m tempted to accuse google of perpetrating a hate crime by describing this monstrous mispronunciation as the correct “British” one

[mxrvelouscreations]

𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒄  ( 𝑭/𝑭 )  𝒏𝒔𝒇𝒘  𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒆 / 5c. / sophie x valeria.

@lustthriill

The gripping on her ass only pushed her to keep going, rocking harder against Valeria's crotch to create more friction. Gazing up at the other, she couldn't help but lean forward and kiss her gently, her hand moving to rest against her cheek. "Is this ok?" She whispered, "you feel good..."

[levithestripper]

watching louis get married to queen elizabeth has me in TEARS

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 2

Poly!141 x chunky!reader tw: little creepy at the end, stalking vibes

By the time the other three members of Task Force 141 made the drive to Ghost’s hometown, he had already determined where you were living by following you from the market and was back in his own flat, swirling a glass of whiskey. The team sat down to make a game plan, almost treating you as if you were one of their missions while sitting around Ghost’s beat up old dining table. You’d be theirs, one way or another. 

A Week Later, Saturday. 

Bleary weather had plagued Manchester for the last few days, gray clouds hovering overhead while you attempted to find your motivation for your job. It wasn’t helpful that you’d received news from your mom that your cousin and Kit would be getting married soon. A brick settled in your stomach at the news, ending the call with your mom quickly as you forced down the tears you refused to keep crying over him. 

In an effort to cheer yourself up, you headed out of your flat and down the street to the sweet little flower shop you’d found your first week in Manchester. The owner, Magda, was a kind, gentle old lady who essentially took you under her wing when you had trouble finding your footing in the new country. She’d been a boon to you, telling you the best shops for everything from groceries to clothes. You’d helped her find her cat when the mangy thing had slipped out the back door to fight the stray living behind a neighboring shop.

The bell chimed above your head, banging against the worn wood. You were immediately greeted by the scent of the most beautiful flowers and Magda’s voice talking a man through the best choices for an apology bouquet. You caught her eye over his shoulder and waved, a soft smile on your face as your eyes drifted to the back of the man’s head.

He easily stood a foot and a half taller than the elderly owner, cropped mohawk adding to the already egregious height difference. His shoulders were broad, though not quite as broad as your masked man back in New York. Why were you thinking about him all of sudden? You shook your head, clearing your mind like an etch-a-sketch and headed straight to the hyacinths and lilacs, wanting the sweet scent of your favorite flowers to brighten up your flat and completely missing him turning to take you in.

“Pretty flowers. Almost as pretty as you.” A low voice startled you out of your reverie, spinning on your heel to face the man Magda had been helping previously. Now, you could see that his eyes were a shocking blue and the lopsided smile he provided you made your heart stutter against your ribcage. But the size of him was what intrigued you. 

You’d accepted that this was the way you were now. Despite doing months of working out and eating well, your body hadn’t changed much from when you’d left the States. The cleaner food of England helped you feel better though, breathing a little life back into you after everything you’d dealt with. But that also meant that men weren’t as courageous in approaching you, their bravado faltering in the face of society's expectations. So when an attractive man approached you, blatantly flirting, your first response was to think it was a joke, snort and walk away, effectively blowing him off.

A gentle hand on your shoulder a few minutes later had you whipping around to ask what the guy's problem was, but was greeted by Magda instead. Immediately, you looked around for the mohawk guy, but he was nowhere to be found and you could have sworn the bell hadn’t dinged against the door. Weird. Bringing your gaze back to the elderly woman, you raised a brow at the scrap of paper in her hands. “That sweet young man paid for your flowers and left this as well,” Magda handed you the piece of paper with a number and a messy name scrawled at the bottom. 

Johnny. 

You’d gone home with your overly expensive bouquet and the scrap of paper after, staring down at it as if it would burst into flames at any moment. You took a deep breath, telling yourself “Why the hell not?” as you punched the number into a new message chain. 🪻: Uh, hi. Is this Johnny?

🧼: Ay, it is, Petal.

🪻: Petal? 

🧼: Well, I don’t know your name, do I?

He made a good point, making you sigh as you released your own name to him in spite of your reservations. But maybe, just maybe, you could manage to make a few friends if he ended up not being interested in you.

The next few days were spent lounging around your flat, going to work, and texting Johnny. What you didn’t know, though, was that he was reporting everything back to his boys. It had only taken Simon’s word and the one picture to have each of them wagging their tongues and readying their arms to protect what they now saw as theirs.

By the time you were winding down on Wednesday night and brewing tea that Johnny had insisted you know how to make, you were smiling at your phone that lit up every few minutes with his messages. The two of you had discussed everything from your favorite color and food to what had brought you to England. When he’d heard the details of that night, sans your interaction with Ghost, and paired it with Simon’s recollection, he’d been furious. His fingers tightened around the phone to the point that Price had taken it from him in an effort to not have to buy another replacement.

Simon had been in the same boat as Johnny, opting for stomping out of the flat to walk off his rage and guilt, feeling it gnaw at him for not stepping up before and then abandoning you after. His feet carried him to your building, watching from the ground as you paced around your space. When your pacing brought you in front of the window, you paused and looked through the glass, heart hammering as you saw a dark shape of a man standing on the sidewalk. But the light of the lamp posts made one thing stand out very clearly,

the white skull painted on his mask. 

I didn't want to offend any Scots with trying to type out Johnny's accent. I have a feeling this is going to turn into some long winded fic, so buckle in if you're ready for that.

Thank you so much for your support!

[anki-of-beleriand]

The Best Kept Secrets - Ch. 1

Summary: Wanda was on the verge of breaking down when she was called to attend her brother's engagement party. Alone and unable to keep up with her father's expectations she makes a deal with the devil that would lead her to discover a side of her that may either destroy her or bring the happiness she so craves for herself.

Pairing: Female!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: au, Moder setting, No powered charcaters, cheating, idiots in love, unrequite/requited love, jealousy, drama, angst, broken hearts, homophobia, more warnings as chapters come in.

Author's Note: Hello guys! I hope all of you are doing amazing. So, now that I finished two of my favourite stories, I would love to start a new one. Now I need to warn you, this is a real story, some of the events you are going to read happen in real life and of course charcaters had been changed and adapt to fall into place with the story.

Thank you for reading, and giving me the chance to share this with you. Remember English is not my mother tongue, so apologise in advanced for any grammar, spelling or funny mistake you may find in here.

Chapter 1

Nothing to write home about

In the present…

- St Pancras International Railway Station, 3:30pm -

It hadn’t stopped raining since you left home almost two hours ago.

You stood by the platform with your eyes glancing at the empty space surrounding the station, your mind completely blank as you detach yourself from the world. The sound of conversation and laughter grew louder around you, it was a cold day and the jacket barely covering your trembling body; the weight of the last year came crashing down into your soul as the train finally made a stop and people started disembarking scattering around while ignoring your lone figure standing still.

The train was punctual, as always.

You lifted your eyes to the sky, the dark clouds gliding above your head reflecting the storm breaking into your heart.

A lot had happened in a year, and you wished you had been spared the heartbreak of having met the woman that was now haunting your dreams.

You snorted wiping away the tears falling down your cheeks, your hand tightened around the handle. It was not used thinking about the past, nor was it worthy to dwell in it; yet as soon as you went inside the railway truck trying to get away from your life in England.

Your eyes closed tightly, your ears straining to hear the people filling out the wagon as you waited for the train to leave the station. You wished it was easy to forget, that your mind was not fixated on what had happened and that your heart was not so foolish as to hope.

Without opening your eyes, and with your eyes filled with tears you wished, not for the first time, that you could forget…

How everything started a year ago…In the past

“It’s raining.” The voice broke the silence in the library, you snorted leaning back against the chair while holding the book closer to your face.

“This is London, it is always raining.” You replied curtly trying to catch the words on the book before settling down on the table.

You knew it was useless to continue working while you have your roommate tapping on the table with her fingers, you cocked your head raising a brow at her. Natasha Romanoff huffed, tapping rapidly her eyes going from the window to you, then back again.

“What is it?” You finally asked, the young woman shrugged but after you glared at her she rolled her eyes straightening up.

“There is going to be a party, more like a function tonight.” Natasha gauged your expression, her green eyes gleaming with a silent request you were dreading already. “Everyone is going to be there, and I want you to go with me. As a date.”

“As a favour.”

Natasha couldn’t hide her wince, and you could only snort at her obvious attempts to get you on her side. You knew what she was interested in, a blond-haired woman that had caught her attention after a conference in which the woman had charmed her way into Natasha’s mind. The redhead leaned forward placing her hand on yours, there was a soft pleadingly glance in her and you knew you were sold as soon as you made eye contact.

“I really want to see her again,” Natasha was not one to ask for favours, she had learnt from an early age to never let anyone have a hold on her and this petition was something you knew cost her not only her pride but also her confidence.

“What do I gain with this?” You crossed your arms refusing to give into the smile that broke into Natasha’s face.

“Well, for one, you may finally get to meet someone.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes, “doubt it. Continue.”

Natasha scowled at that, she really wished you stopped thinking you were not good enough or attractive enough, or smart, and funny, and lovely enough for anyone out there. She knew that you hadn’t had the best of childhoods, and that your experience with friends and relationships had only left a broken mark in your heart and soul.

“This is also a chance to get to know people that may be interested in investing on your investigation,” this time around Natasha could see that she caught your attention, she held back her smile without stopping her rant, “I mean, I know the school has given you full support with the doctorate, but to continue your work you will need someone supporting the investigation.”

You chewed on your lower lip, lowering your gaze for a moment. It was true that you had been looking into someone that might have wanted to be interested in your area of expertise, it was hard as it was to find someone interested in history, much less in founding an investigation on that field. You could know those events usually hosted people whose interest in such topics were what you needed.

“I guess I could go with you,” you finally gave in, rolling your eyes while ignoring the triumphant smirk Natasha was shooting your way. “But I don’t want setups! And I don’t want you pushing me to get the phone number of anyone, got it?”

Natasha hesitated for a moment before she finally gave in, “I promised.”

“Good, then when is this thing happening?”

Natasha’s smirk grew even more, and a feeling of dread settled in your stomach; for some reason, you couldn’t help thinking her smile was hiding her real intentions with this sudden invitation. But your head soon dismissed that thought, even if that was the case, Natasha had always been transparent in her set ups and she had already promised this wouldn’t be one of her plans to set you up with one of her crazy friends.

At least, that was what you hoped for.

   ______________________________________________________________________________________

Kate pursed her lips watching amusedly as Wanda failed her to strike the golf ball with her club. The young woman was grabbing the thing with all her strength while holding her posture just as tense, this was the fifth time she failed to hit the ball and it was going from amusing to just plain pitiful.

“I can’t believe…” Wanda gritted her teeth throwing the club to the ground, Kate came right at her holding her tightly while she sobbed into her arms.

The tension had come after the news of Jarvis’ marriage reached out to them; it had been a normal day at the club. Nothing too out of the ordinary until one of the oldest ladies in the club came to Wanda’s mother with the latest news about the young hair to the Jarvis fortune. He had married the woman of his dreams, the one he had been dating officially while messing around with Wanda just before leaving her humiliated and broken-hearted.

The man had done anything and everything he could with the young brunette, he had actually dared to talk about marriage and a future with Wanda until the very end.

“Wanda, dear, you never thought I would actually go through with it, did you?”

The man had said to Wanda after she found out about his fiancée, Wanda had been standing by the door of his flat, the man sneering down at her.

“You were there to help me prepare for my future; you were a good plaything until I have to settle down. I hope you don’t take this personally, but I do need a real woman in my life. Not you.”

Up until then Wanda had accepted the secrecy of her relationship with Jarvis, she had enjoyed the solitude of their relationship until it was quite evident the man didn’t have any intention of presenting her to his family. Or to meet hers.

“I was such an idiot.” Wanda mumbled hugging Kate tightly, wishing they were alone in the golf course.

“No, Wands, he was an idiot. That motherfucker…” Kate said, earning a watery chuckle from Wanda.

Kate placed her hands on Wanda’s arms, she offered a tender smile shrugging.

“Wanda, there was no way for you to know what was happening…”

“I should have known, you know?” Wanda placed a hand on her face, she tried to cover her eyes while letting the pain pierced her skin, with her heart twitching uncomfortably inside her chest. “I wish I could die.”

Kate lowered her gaze, hating to see her best friend in such depression, she hated knowing Wanda had been fighting all her life against her own insecurities and the heartbreaks that come with who she really was and how much she was worth. It had been like that for people like them, everyone thought money was everything, that it would get them happiness, and healthy relationships, but in reality it had broken a deep voice that sometimes they filled with whoever showed them a glimpse of kindness and love.

“Perhaps…I just…” Wanda trailed off, she took a deep breath and then looked away. “Perhaps I was not meant to be loved.”

Before Kate could say anything about it Wanda turned to her, “let’s just keep playing, I want to forget for a moment. Please?”

Kate wanted to say something else, anything to help Wanda through the pain of what had happened in the lapse of a month. Her life had changed, and it seemed as if the world had conspired to make her life a misery. With a last sympathetic glance, Kate Bishop grabbed her club and followed her best friend through the golf course making sure she could vent her frustrations without giving into desperation.

 Afternoon had fallen rather fast for Wanda’s liking.

She sat at the table Wearing the same clothes she had used during her game, the weather inside had worsened with heavy rain falling onto the club's property. She grabbed her cup of tea hearing the story from Gwen who had found Kate and herself resting in a corner of the restaurant. Wanda had drifted away after she started telling them of her oncoming engagement party. 

“Of course the both of you are invited, I still haven't decided on how many people will attend,” Gwen fixed her hair giving a lighthearted giggle, “but let's say that Peter had already panicked and the sheer amount of people we are inviting.”

The conversation could have died there, no more was necessary but Gwen had always been naive and just a little dense about the reality of the world. She settled her grey eyes on Wanda, a twitched of the woman's lips told Kate she should say something but she was too slow to react.

“I have heard from a very good source that Victor Von Doom would be there, and your stepmother has already made arrangements for you to be escorted by him to the reception.” Gwen leaned forward placing her hand on top of Wanda’s one mistaking her dumbfounded glance for one of shocked nervousness.

“Aren't you happy about it? I know he has tried to get into your father's good light. and he even asked Pietro if he could approach you with the intention of dating you.”

“Excuse me?” By now Wanda was trembling indignantly,  she knew pretty well what the intentions of the man were. Ever since she was in high school he had tried to buy her and her father to get access to the family's reputation. 

Wanda despised him, he was an arrogant jerk who could care less about her desires or her feelings. The fact that her stepmother was dealing to get the man into a party that she would potentially attend was insulting and quite frankly disturbing.

Gwen blinked confusedly, grabbing by then the tone of voice from Wanda. Her face fell and Kate felt sympathy for the blond-haired woman who was now fidgeting under Wanda’s glare.

“Van Doom is an imbecile whose reputation has been tainted by his inability to hold a business standing,” Wanda stood up, whatever frustrations she had been experiencing in the last month finally getting the best out of her. “Frankly I pitied the woman that fell into his hands, now Gwen if you excuse me I have a function to attend and I am already late to get ready for the event.”

Wanda stood up leaving the table in a rush, Gwen sat there furrowing her brows torn between being offended and perplexed. Kat stood up as well, she shot Gwen a smile placing her hand on top of Gwen's one.

“You better don't invite that man to the party, Gwen. Wanda really hates him, and the fact her stepmother is messing around to try and set her up would be a door to conflict.”

Gwen shifted frowning, “Kate, I'm looking out for her. It has been so long since she dated someone, we all are getting either married or have a relationship going on whereas she is…alone. It's not right. I was just trying to get her to meet someone, perhaps dated and have a family on her own?”

Kate winced at those words, Gwen had been their best friend for as long as they could remember. But as soon as high school ended it was quite obvious where her interest lay and this had erected an invisible wall amongst them. Gwen looked up at Kate trying to find agreement there, but she knew her friends were free spirits, they were always following their own rules and most of the time Gwen didn't find that wise, or even practical. 

“Look I know that, but Wanda.she is not like that. You know that. For her what she is doing right now is important,and she really does not care for marriage. At least not out of social convenience.” Kate offered a half smile, “you were lucky you met a man you fell in love With and that loved you back, but you know that is not the case and regardless of what you or the others said…”

“Wanda wants to fall in love. To be loved and loved back.” Gwen nodded as if finally understanding, she softened her features, a flash of urgency growing in her grey irises. “Oh, I didn't want to…”

“I know, but Gwen you need to start listening to others and start listening to yourself and stand for what you think is right or not,” Kate hesitated before giving the blond a hug. “It was good to see you, Gwen. Don't be a stranger.”

“Please, tell Wanda I'm sorry and I will make sure no one she doesn't like is invited to my engagement.”

Kate walked away from the place rather relieved to know Gwen found a real man that cherished and loved her dearly. She didn't want to think what would have happened if a different individual had approached Gwen when she was younger. With determination behind her strides, Kate strolled down the halls towards the parking lot. In no time she found the car, Wanda was looking gloomily to the horizon, detached from what was happening around her while the tears gleamed under the thunder breaking into the sky. Kate huffed running under the rain before going into the car.

“Gwen says she is sorry.”

“Hn, okay.” 

Wanda turned the engine on, she grabbed the wheel tightly, breathing deeply. Her face fell for a moment, then with a tired stare she turned to Kate.

“Will you go with me tonight?”

Kate nodded shifting in the seat, “you know I will.”

“Thank you.”

Nothing more was said, but Wanda couldn't stop thinking about her life in the last couple of months. She wished she had never believed the lies woven by Jarvis, that she hadn't fallen in love with the man to the point she was ready to forsake Her family and her life for him. She remembered those moments she shared with the man, his sweet words when taking her out on dates and trips, the moments of passion they shared in her flat and the secrecy with which he held their relationship. She had been such a fool, well-played by a man who looked nothing more than the comfort she could offer while his official girlfriend found herself in the spotlight as the love of his life. Wanda had always felt the twisting pain of the knife in her heart, she had seen the red flags and yet her love for Jarvis had blinded her to all of them.

Now, she was alone, broken, and unloved.

Just as it was supposed to be.

With a sob leaving her lips, Wanda cleared her throat and held back her tears. She needed to stop crying, and she needed to get out of her own misery, her mind turning to her friends and work. If she focused on them, perhaps the dull pain in her heart would recede and she would find peace once more.

_______________________

The moment you were welcomed into the world of Academics, you thought it would be a place where nerds of all ages would be around reading, working on new mathematical theories or perhaps on the newest inventions that would change the world. It was something out of the stereotypical image people had of the academic world.

The were mistaken, of course 

Most of the time you found yourself in fancy dinners, and in multiple conferences in which your main task was to forge some kind of engagement and gain the favour of a rich individual to donate to your investigation, your department or perhaps the school itself.  It was exhausting, you had to smile and shake hands while pretending to like everyone you came across. 

The night was still young, yet you had already caught sight of important personalities attending the function meant to give money and brains to the military. Your eyes caught sight of Jean Gray and her husband Scott talking with Professor Reed and Sue Storm. Then, just as you suspected it, you found Bruce Banner talking animatedly to some woman wearing a military uniform while Another one stood in the distance. If Bruce Banner had come to this meeting then, that meant…

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite theorist in the whole wide world!”

You winced hearing the deep, baritone voice of the one and only Tony Stark. You winced and straightened up while turning around, the man was smirking at you with his eyes covered by the shades he usually brought to every event. His hand stretched out, without any hesitation you took it in yours without hiding your perplexity at the encounter.

“Tony.” Your greet was formal, with just a hint of curiosity in it.

“I thought you didn't like these kinds of events.”

“I don't.” Your reply was received with an incredulous stare.

“Then, what are you doing here?”

You wondered the same thing after going back home and getting ready for the night. Natasha had selected your clothes carefully, and her instructions about your behaviour had been quite clear. At the moment, you were just waiting for the redhead to arrive and lead the rest of the night until it was time for her to approach her blond-haired angel.

“You never know where you would find the love of your life, Tony. So, I am here waiting to see if anyone in this forsaken place knows more about arts, science, and books than money and fuckery in general.”

Tony bursted out laughing, placing a hand on your forearm, you snorted, shaking your head while matching the grin the older man wore at the moment. You had been but a teenager when Stark Industries had discovered you in the dirty and forgotten streets of Colombia. A missing child with almost zero chances to grow beyond a mediocre job and education, you had solved a puzzle the Learning and Development department at Stark Industries had devised to hunt for geniuses around the world. Of all the people they recruited at that time, you were the only one that actually got to climb up the ladder inside the Industries and the University.

You had always thought this would earn you powerful enemies, however the total opposite happened and now Tony Stark stood behind you as your protector and main source of income.

“I thought you didn't believe in love.” He stated offering his arm to you, after a moment of hesitation you hooked your arm with his and started walking around the great hall. 

“I don't.” The answer rolled out of your lips with conviction, your eyes sweeping the hall trying to locate Natasha. 

“And yet, I bet you are looking for that one connection that may change your life.” Tony placed a soothing hand on yours, his eyes downcast for a moment.

“Do you believe in love, Tony?”

Tony chuckled, cocking his head, “I do.”

You snorted with a hint of disbelief in your eyes.

“You are a womaniser.”

“Was.”

The word was said with fire and determination, you couldn’t help the surprise in your eyes while the older man shrugged nodding to the balcony. You followed his stare, your eyes caught sight of a group of people talking in The cold of the night. 

“There is someone I want you to meet.” Tony chanted hisnvoice, the sudden hardening of his words Told you he meant business. “He is an old friend of my dad, and has been an important member of the Oxford Board, and a private consultant for the Parliament.”

You raised your brows, now completely at loss as to why Tony was taking you to this person while wondering if perhaps the invitation from Natasha was for another reason. Tony sensed your trepidation, he offered a smile making sure you were looking into his eyes.

“You have the potential to be exceptional, your mind and the way you work are your innate advantages and it is about time you break that comfort zone of yours and start exploring something else.” 

“Tony, I thank you for everything you have done for me, but something like this…” you trailed off when Tony shook his head.

“I know why you have been hiding, but whatever happens you will always count on me.” Tony winked at you resuming his stroll towards the balcony. “Besides, who knows? Perhaps this is what you need to start believing in yourself and you may even find love.”

You held onto your scepticism, you knew the man had a soft spot for you and he has been supporting you from an early age, this was the only reason why you didn't  contradict him and decided to follow him up on his offer. There was nothing wrong with that, after all, and perhaps this encounter would give you the chance to try something new. Something different.

It was a dark and cold night.

The sound of muffled conversation coming from the main hall could barely be heard once they stepped into the balcony. You lifted your face welcoming the cold wind brushing your heated skin, your arms shivered with goosebumps travelling down your back.

You lowered your gaze, finding yourself looking into the deepest shade of green eyes that you had ever seen before. They belonged to a young woman that was wearing a white dress with her hair falling like a cascade of cobalt contrasting with her white, smooth skin and the soft blush on her cheeks. The woman was beautiful, her intense stare caught your breath while your lower abdomen broke into a myriad of fluttering butterflies. Your words caught in your throat, and your mind flash a red warning, as if you were forgetting something important but couldn't grasp what it really was.

It didn't matter, though.

As soon as your eyes found those of the young woman you could only see contempt and just a tad bit of annoyance. You furrowed your brows, confused at her reaction to seeing you. What was with the hate?

“Tony Stark, I didn’t know you were in the country.” 

Your attention was soon claimed by the command hidden behind that voice, your face turned to a mature man with dark, brown eyes and a comforting smile. His eyes shone smartly while they turned from Tony to you then back to the other man, he placed the hands on the armrest on the wheelchair he was sitting in. You tried to focus your attention on him, but the glare coming from the beautiful woman behind him was making it quite difficult to concentrate. 

“I arrived yesterday, and have some business to attend to.” Tony then stretched his hand towards you, stepping aside to give you the spotlight. 

You stood rather awkwardly, the black dress you decided to wear tight around your body with the cold night brushing your skin. The man sitting on the wheelchair lifted a single eyebrow, his lips never lost the kind smile but it were those eyes holding a spark of mischief that made you wonder just what the hell were you missing.

“I want to introduce you to my protegee, Y/N Y/LN.” 

The man nodded towards you, lifting his hand while making sure to never break eye contact. You wiggled, stepping closer and taking the warm hand in yours.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Charles Xavier, at your service.” 

The name clicked inside your head, your eyes went wide while you took in the form of the man then back to Tony who was smiling at you all smugly and proud.

“I’m sorry sir, you said Charles Xavier? As in Profesor Charles?” You asked lifting your eyes when the brunette snorted, rolling her eyes before settling her glare on you.

“The very same, I see my reputation precedes me.” Charles stated highly amused, he gave you a quick glance more to examine you than to actually give a check over. “But the one who is actually surprised is me.”

“You, sir?”

“I am ashamed to admit I thought you were older than what you really are.” Charles stated leaning back, he never lost his smile and his eyes went from you to Tony. 

“That’s a common mistake, sir. But you are really a legend.” This time around you sounded excited to meet the man, Tony puffed out his chest knowing he had done the right thing.

“Oh, please, an old legend ready to give way to the newest generation.” This time around he waved away his hand before turning to the woman standing silently behind him, “let me introduce you to my goddaughter who is uncharacteristically quiet this evening. Wanda Maximoff.”

Now everything came crashing down inside your mind. 

Your arm that was already stretching out to offer your hand stopped midway, your eyes shot up rather quickly and you found yourself looking into Wanda’s own eyes and you understood then and there the resentment. 

You knew that young woman, you had seen her before and had even kissed her once in a public place that ended up with her fighting her boyfriend after the incident. 

The initial shock waved off, your lips broke into an easy smile that soon was joined by your eyes and amusement was clearly drawn in your face. The woman narrowed her eyes, she stepped forward and, not for the first time, she slapped you before turning to the old man who was flabbergasted.

“Uncle Charles, I think I am not feeling well. Thank you for the invite, I will text you as soon as I get home.” Then she turned to Tony, nodding to him. “Mr. Stark.”

You stood frozen in place, your cheek stung with the force of the slap yet you couldn’t help but laugh at what just happened. Charles glanced at you apologetically yet completely curious as to what had gotten Wanda so worked up she decided to slap you in such a public place before leaving without an explanation. 

“Well, it is good to know you are still good at making friends,” Tony said after the initial shock passed, you turned to him placing a hand on your cheek, the smile still on your face. “What the hell did you do to her?”

Charles tilted his head just as interested as Tony with what had just transpired right in front of them. He had known Wanda from birth, and he knew she had quite the temper, but this kind of reaction was something he had never seen before. And if he were to be honest, with how things had been lately, he found refreshing just how full of life she looked just moments ago.

“Hey! I didn’t do anything to her, we just…” You trailed off lifting your arms, Tony rolled his eyes when you waved your fingers trying to find an explanation. “I…we meet under unfortunate circumstances and by those specific circumstances, I may have…well, you know what? I probably deserve the slap, so no harm done.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something when the laughter from Charles caught his attention, you tried to hold back your smile and Tony was actually surprised to see that reaction from the older man. Charles waved his hand away before settling his eyes on you.

“I bet there is an interesting story behind that, but I also know Wanda may be quite explosive at times.” Charles shrugged before grabbing your hand and squeezing comfortingly. “Now, there would be a time for stories, for now I would like to know you more in the professional capacity.”

You furrowed your brows and soon it was quite evident why Natasha had brought you to the function. 

Your life was about to change in ways you never thought possible. 

That was how the story of your heartbreak started.

With a slap and a job proposal.

______________________________________________________________

AN: So, this is the first chapter, i hope you guys enjoy it! tell me what you think and don't forget to like and share it you so want it!