#she could do a lot better in the dad territory

[elsolaer]

cass does not know what a good father figure is and thats unfortunate

[totally-here]

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help. 

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long. 

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned. 

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity. 

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room. 

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up. 

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark. 

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?” 

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times. 

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?” 

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life. 

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes. 

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that. 

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it. 

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone. 

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders. 

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost. 

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead. 

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?” 

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.” 

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.” 

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him. 

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?” 

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!” 

“You what.” 

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg. 

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament. 

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead. 

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl. 

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker. 

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?” 

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes. 

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing. 

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body. 

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches. 

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly. 

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker. 

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?” 

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that. 

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably. 

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car. 

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything. 

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out. 

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile. 

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions. 

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.” 

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.” 

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible. 

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies. 

He gets a resounding no in response. 

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else. 

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it. 

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula. 

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?” 

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?” 

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!” 

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame. 

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?” 

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.” 

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest. 

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds. 

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head. 

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring. 

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.” 

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest. 

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused. 

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.” 

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

[loudclan-clangen]

The World Ender by Lord Huron would be perfect for this moon

Anon you're so right and also I'm losing my mind over this song rn.

I had been imagining "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash for this moment but this song has all the vibes I loved from that one plus lyrics that are literally perfect for Wildfirecry, this is such a good pick!

Okay, SO: 7 farm cats attacked Fiercestripe's patrol. 4 of them were killed (Coal, his two sons, and one of Bee's sons), and 3 of them survived, but were wounded (Spider, Bee's other son, and Butterfly's son). These 3are the cats that Wildfirecry tracked down and killed in Moon 29 Part 3. He didn't kill anyone but those 3 toms!

No artistic liberty here! Wildfirecry committed at least three real life war crimes!

Absolutely! There's not a whole lot more to them than what is shown. I haven't put a ton of thought into Forestclan because they're already gone, but I imagine that they were a lot more religiously focused than Loudclan is. Their Starclan literally lived in the stars, and thus they were almost everpresent during the winter, and absent in the summer, when they were believed to hide underground. For this reason, if a cat died in the summer their body must be buried in order to join Starclan, and if a cat's body could not be buried, then they would be lost to wander until the sky darkened again. On the other hand, if a cat died in the winter, they would be left out to decompose in the open air, so that their spirit could ascend up to join Starclan in the sky, and burying them would leave them lost until Starclan returned underground. The rites that Wildfirecry performed doesn't allow for either of these fates. It traps a cat's soul somewhere in the middle, suspended in the air too low to escape into the sky and to high to shelter underground. I don't know if I've talked about it before, but I don't think the valley territories have a dark forest or equivalent "cat hell", so this is truly the worst punishment that Wildfirecry can bestow upon them.

It's Fiercestripe we're talking about here, she didn't waste time with some lovey-dovey good bye. She wants vengeance just as much as Wildfirecry does, if not more, and she only has a moment to speak to him. They'll have time for softness later, for now Wildfirecry has a job to do and she's here to help him do it.

I imagine that Rosehiptree would have been the one person Wildfirecry told that he was leaving. Quietly, before he excused himself, he told her that if he hadn't returned within a moon that she needed to go to the Black Water Pool and get her lives. While Wildfirecry didn't intend to lose all of his lives, he didn't want to promise to come back when he couldn't assure it, and honestly dying and passing his lives on to his only remaining daughter to make sure she outlives her illness is not necessarily a total loss in his book. Rosehiptree did that math, and considering everything she knew about her dad, decided that he was definitely not coming home. She relied a lot on Songpaw after their conversation, and even now that Wildfirecry's back and she's doing a little bit better, she still treats him as her anchor. She knows that Wildfirecry HAD to go do what he did to be able to live with himself, she's even thankful that he did it so that she doesn't have to fear Spider coming back, but he still left her when she needed him, and Songpaw didn't.

Thank you! That's a great compliment! I think it's pretty likely that you've spotted at least one of the ships being foreshadowed in Moon 30, but the real question is did you catch them all???

[hedwig221b]

Heey, was wondering if you could recommend some magical stiles fics, preferably sterek.

Thank you 😊

Magical Stiles, my beloved!!! 💖

My Mother Told Me by Renmackree

Stiles joined the Emissary program to help Alpha wolves settle into their new roles and to follow in his mother’s footsteps. She had always told him he was destined to run with the wolves, but he thought she meant Scott and his pack.

Instead, Stiles finds himself sent to Thingvallavatn, Iceland, with Alpha Derek Hale. It's clear the Alpha is hiding a part of him that Stiles can’t reach, but when a monster comes to threaten the pack, it’s always great to have someone in your corner with a little mischief up their sleeve

My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more.

“You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?”

“It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.”

Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes.

“I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

Came For The Spark, Stayed For The Flame

Derek felt the panic build up in his chest as Jezebel held out a hand. He smelled it before he saw it, because who could forget the scent of what destroyed your life? Fire and spark and smoke curled from Jezebel's hands, and the wood stacked at Stiles' feet flared up.

When Stiles and Derek get bonded as Emissary-and-Alpha, hidden attractions become a lot harder to hide, secrets are kept and secrets are surfaced, and an evil teenage girl is planning even more ritualistic sacrifice. Canon divergence from the end of 3a.

A Letter From Mom by StilesIsMySpiritAnimal

After waking up at the age of 11 without any memories of his past Stiles spends eight years with his father in the tiny town of Shelter Cove, California. After his father's death he receives a notice from a storage facility in some town called Beacon Hills. Stiles is confused and thinks the manager made a mistake until he finds a letter that should have been for his 18th birthday that his dad never gave him. It's from his mother, who he has no memory of. Weirdly enough, her letter mentions Beacon Hills and some woman named Talia, who he's supposed to trust. Confused and angry at his father, Stiles sets out for Beacon Hills anxious and determined to find out what his dad had been hiding from him all these years.

Truth in Pretense by wanderingeyre

Stiles took the straw from his drink and started chewing on it. He pulled it from his mouth and stood. He grinned at Derek. “Stop frowning, Sourwolf. I have a solution that will solve all our problems.”

“And that would be?” Derek didn’t move as Stiles moved closer to him.

Stiles winked at Derek. “We get married.” --- The one where Derek and Stiles pretend to be mates to help out a neighboring Pack and find there is some truth in pretense.

Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”

That was a bad word. Not found.

Have.

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

If You’re Going Through Hell (Keep Going)

Stiles thought everything leading up to Allison’s death was hell, but he was wrong. Spending senior year dealing with the pack’s dismissal of him while secretly training to be Deaton’s replacement was hell. Feeling guilty and hating himself for what the Nogitsune did was hell. Being in love with someone who would never love him back was hell. Well, if you’re going through hell, keep going.

Striking Matches by eeyore9990

Stiles has only ever wanted to protect his family and his pack. That’s not easy to do when you're human and sarcasm is your only defense. Now Deaton is telling Stiles he’s a spark, and if that’s a weapon in his arsenal, he’s sure as hell going to learn to use it.

All Stiles needs now, to complete his transformation into a true badass, is a training montage and a decent soundtrack...

A Similar String by snarkatthemoon

Strong bonds made for a strong pack, and he needed a strong pack.

They spent a long time in silence, Derek thinking hard about how he was going to cement the bonds. It needed to be done, and not just because they had the threat of the witch hanging over them, but for the good of the pack.

It felt like hours had passed by the time he came around; he had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Stiles moving around on the couch so that his head was resting on Derek’s thigh, his long legs hanging over the arm on the far end.

He wasn’t sleeping, but his eyes were closed and his heartbeat wasn’t as fast as it usually was, as if he was just on the edge of sleep. It should have felt weird, having Stiles in such close contact, but Derek found that it really didn’t feel weird at all. His head was a comforting weight in Derek’s lap, another anchor tethering him and keeping him calm and in control. . Or, the one where Derek meets a witch, gets his betas back, and seemingly develops a sense of humour. Also, Stiles is totally magic, manages to accidentally join a werewolf pack, and asks too many goddamn questions. What could possibly go wrong?

here in the heart (of my sanctuary) by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

Talia accelerates through the tunnel, and Derek looks up, watches the light that makes it through the bramble dance and shift over the hood of the car as they drive, fingers gripping the sides of the tank. It’s beautiful, like a gateway to another world. He’s lived in the preserve his whole life, and he didn’t know this was here.

She eyes him. “You should know this man is very important to me. I take the responsibility of his care and counsel very seriously. Handing him over to you…it’s not a small thing. Please keep that in mind.”

No pressure, then.

A Teenage Love Song by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas)

Stiles is sick and tired of how much he fucks up. His dad is disappointed, his step-mom judges and his step-brother can do no wrong. It's not that he doesn't love them, he just gets so tired of being different. Now he's being moved lock, stock and barrel to Beacon Hills aka the town his mom grew up in so they can go live in his grandma's house and his father can get him back on the straight and narrow.

It's going to suck.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | mafia | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse

[mionemymind]

Chapter 4: Finding My Way To You

My Rival Series

Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

Chapter Summary: Wanda is determined to get Y/n back to Evergreen University, but how will she?

A/n: Apologies for the delay. I struggle a lot with writing filler sometimes until I get moments where I'm like "shit that would be cute to write". Hopefully y'all enjoy. (Gif Credits to @samaraweaving)

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing

Word Count: 5.9k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Summer Break 

“At what point does this obsession with Y/n turn from respect into love?” In their summer home, Wanda layed on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her hands fiddled with the green crystal around her neck, a constant reminder of the girl that clouded her dreams. 

“What makes you think that I’m thinking about her? I could be thinking about school.” Wanda didn’t have to look to know that Pietro was smirking. While he knew very little about what Wanda felt about Y/n, he did know the ruckus she’s causing to get Y/n back. And that was enough to leave a big impression on Pietro. 

“School doesn’t have you paralyzed in your room for three weeks. Not only that, you don’t have any summer courses this year.” Sitting down at the open desk chair, Pietro spun around as he aimlessly looked around Wanda’s room. “And last time I checked, no other person has your eye…well not in the way Y/n does.” 

Wanda grabbed the closest pillow, chucking it at Pietro. She hated how quick he could get under her nerves. It usually wouldn’t bother her, but then again, the topic is never really about Y/n. 

Wanda hardly ever spoke about Y/n at home or to any of her friends. Of course everyone of her college friends knew of Y/n, but they didn’t know. They didn’t know how badly Wanda thought of Y/n during freshman year of college. They didn’t know how much Wanda wanted to be friends with Y/n and that this stupid rivalry was the closest thing she could get. They didn’t know how much Y/n practically encourages her to be better, to be number one. They didn’t know - no one did. 

How could she even tell people? Hey, I have this weird rivalry with Y/n that keeps up every day and night. We’re not even friends though and I may secretly feel something about this. No matter how many times Wanda rehearsed it, talking about Y/n was just as challenging as all her honors classes, maybe even more. 

So while keeping it a secret did hurt, it was better this way. Because in some weird twisted way, Wanda loved that she was the only one that understood Y/n at this level, that no one else could understand Y/n like her, even if they tried. 

Regardless of how selfish it was, Wanda could not bear the idea of someone else challenging Y/n the same way she did. Because no matter how much she denied herself, Wanda’s thoughts revolve around Y/n. And God forbid, the idea of Y/n’s thought revolving around somebody else would kill her. 

‘Does she think about me?’ Wanda sat up, the bitter taste back in her mouth at the thought that maybe Y/n was into other people. ‘I’ve never heard her speak about anybody else before.’ But Wanda was smart. While Y/n may have never spoken directly to Wanda about crushes, she may secretly have one. ‘Oh God, does she have a partner?’

Before Wanda could panic about that, Pietro broke her out of her thoughts. “What are you going to do if Dad doesn’t give Y/n her scholarship back?” Pietro was never the type to get serious around his sister often. While he knew the time and place to fool around, this felt like uncharted territory. 

Of course Wanda had her fair share of partners in the past, a mix of boys and girls. But Y/n was different. Not in the way that Y/n captured Wanda’s mind, but in the way that Y/n was the only one mentioned by their father. No one else was ever worth being spoken by. So what made Y/n so different?

Wanda felt nervous under Pietro’s stare. This was the first time she ever really spoke about Y/n and the feeling in her chest was hard to ignore. The room felt hot, her anxiety was through the roof, and the answer was something she simply could not rush. 

“Would you think I’m overreacting if I said I would transfer?” Finally taking the courage to look at him, Pietro was stunned by Wanda’s answer. He, as well as any Maximoff, knew how important Evergreen University was for the family. Many generations of Maixmoffs have gone to Evergreen University. There is hardly a generation where you can’t pinpoint at least one Maximoff. 

So for Wanda to even entertain the idea of transferring meant the situation was bigger than he could ever imagine. 

“I think that…Y/n means something to you - clearly more than you care to let anyone know.” Rolling over to Wanda, Pietro offered a small smile. “And if her not going to Evergreen University affects you a lot, then I will personally try my best to help.” 

Pietro may not understand Wanda sometimes, but he certainly will always get her back. “Thanks Piet.” 

Getting up from his seat, he couldn’t help but comment, “Nice flannel.” 

Looking down, Wanda rolled her eyes, “You could just use your words and ask for it back.” 

Wanda took the flannel off. With her hand reached out, she tried giving it back to him. Confused by her comment, Pietro slowly grabbed the flannel and held it up. Quickly confirming his thoughts, he gently threw it back to Wanda. 

“That’s too small for me. Bummer that it’s not my size because I do like it.” Racking her brain, Wanda vividly remembered having it on when Pietro dragged her from the library one night. 

‘Was I the only one there?’ The night felt too far away to really remember, but the gut feeling she had couldn’t be ignored. ‘Who else would be there on a Saturday night?’ 

Pushing her thoughts away, Wanda dismissed Pietro, her thoughts still lingering on Y/n. 

“Can you tell me more about Y/n?” The siblings were eating breakfast outside prepared by the cook. Their parents were somewhere in town, enjoying company from school. 

“What do you want to know?” Pushing her plate away, Wanda overlooked the view from the backyard. A vast forest lay before them as well as acres of land, something that has been passed through many generations. 

“What makes her so important to you?” The question almost made Wanda scoff. It almost felt like a form of punishment having to fully confess to the world what she thought of Y/n. But the guilty feeling of denying what she felt about Y/n consumed her more. 

Why did she keep Y/n a secret from everybody? It’s not like Y/n was a bad person…but then again, why would Wanda want to share somebody like Y/n? Why would she share her?

“I…” There were multiple ways she could go about this. Wanda could downplay the whole thing hoping that Pietro would never ask again, but this was her brother. Pietro was a lot of things and stubborn was one of them.

Wanda sighed. Lying was going to get her nowhere, especially since Pietro vowed to help her out. “She drives me like no other.” Subconsciously, her hand goes back to her crystal, the one she rarely takes off. Not being able to see Y/n was torture and knowing next semester was still a major if caused even more pain. “It’s like finally finding the reason the world makes sense. I follow so many rules and orders from Mom and Dad that I hardly feel like I understand why things are the way they are. But with Y/n…” 

Looking at the sky filled with clouds, Wanda couldn’t help but try and feel like she was back at school. ‘Cause maybe she could somewhat feel like she was back with Y/n. 

“She makes me not hate the person Mom and Dad made me into. That being like this was a choice rather than something I was forced to do.” The pressure of being a Maximoff was tough, something only Pietro and some cousins knew. But at a very young age, more pressure was put on Wanda’s shoulders compared to Pietro’s. The two never really understood why but instead were forced to live with it. “She drives me to be better in ways that I would’ve never done on my own.” 

Looking back at Pietro, Wanda saw that he had this blank stare, like he wasn’t quite sure how to react. “She’s important because for the first time in my life…I quite like being smart. I like studying and going to class. I like being number one. I like me.” 

Quickly, her mind thinks back to the tournament and the awful letter written by Dean Holloway, and suddenly being number one was the last thing she wanted for herself. 

“She sounds remarkable.” Pietro finished his food, throwing Wanda a smile. 

Feeling herself blush from her confession, Wanda looked back down at the crystal. “Yeah…she is.” 

Sitting in his office, Eric Maximoff sat staring at the offer letter he had rewritten countless of times, the moment between him and his daughter replayed constantly as he made sure to perfect this offer.

Although he realized just how stubborn his daughter was, the threat that replayed in his mind was like no other. There was no tantrum, no screaming, and no begging. That was unlike any argument in the past. This ultimatum almost terrified him if it weren’t the power he held at Evergreen University. 

So while he may have hated the idea of bringing Y/n back, someone who could easily challenge Wanda’s place, he didn’t dare entertain the idea of her going to a different university. Something that would easily bring shame to the family.

The knock at his door brought him out of his thoughts. “Come in.” Slowly opening the door, Wanda entered timidly, unsure of the reason she was called. 

Beckoning her forward, he slipped the manila envelope towards the edge of the desk. Slowly, she took the envelope and grabbed the letter inside. 

“This will be mailed tomorrow first thing in the morning.” Wanda’s eyes widened at the words she was reading. Her mind reading faster than her eyes can go. 

Y/n Y/l/n,

On the behalf of Evergreen University, we would like to grant you your scholarship back in full. Much deliberation has been made on your behalf as we have realized the mistake that was made to revoke your scholarship. We do hope you take this letter as a sign of apology for this catastrophic mistake. 

Your scholarship will be found posted for your Fall Semester should you return back to Evergreen University. Please respond to this request on your attendance. We certainly hope to see you again. 

Eric Maximoff

President of Evergreen University 

Analyzing Wanda’s reaction, Eric could feel himself relax at the sight of Wanda’s smile. He didn’t have many close moments to his daughter, so this was certainly one that he wished to be on the right side of. 

“I will let you know when my staff receives word of her response.” This was more than what Wanda could have asked for. The feelings inside her could hardly be contained as she realized that her father explicitly wrote this letter and not Dean Holloway.

‘He cares.’ Looking back at Eric, Wanda didn’t want to wait all summer to know of Y/n’s response. Racking her mind, she spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“I want to see her.” Once again, there was that fire in her eyes. Something Eric had never seen before. “Let me be the one to deliver to her.” 

Freshman Year - Fall Semester 

“Hey Y/n!” A brunette sat by Y/n, someone that Wanda hardly remembered. Her overly enthusiastic attitude caught Wanda’s attention but the proximity between them held her focus. “Would you be able to tell me your address back home? Marketing majors are currently needing it to better research the upbring of our students and what possible trends we may be able to assume based on the data.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at the load of bullshit that came out of that girl’s mouth. Why in the hell would a class require that much personal information? Like full on government address? It was a trick. But what pissed Wanda off more was the fact that Y/n was willing to give out her information like this. 

And although Wanda was mad, she couldn’t help but also write down Y/n’s address, in case she were to ever use it in the future. 

Wanda’s hand clenched and unclenched right before the door. Doubt paralyzed her body like never before. Her feet hadn’t moved in five minutes and by now, the sun was making her skin blaze with how long she had been there. 

Wanda Maximoff was petrified. While everything in her life usually stressed her out, something about this was different. Never in her life has something affected her this much. So as she stood right outside the Y/l/n home, she couldn’t help but think of all the what if’s. 

What if Y/n doesn’t want to speak with her? What if she doesn’t even care to open the envelope and continue to go to her home university? What if this whole thing was the most stupid idea on Earth? 

So before she could run away, act like this never happened, she closed her eyes and knocked on the door. 

Waiting on anybody to open up the door was grueling, but as Wanda backed away from the patio, she took a good look at the exterior of the house. With white and gray paneling, the house appeared to be a country style home that was right at the coast. The waves from the beach were crashing so loud, it almost sounded like it was in Y/n’s backyard. 

The drive was almost an hour away from the airport, but thankfully a money hungry cab was willing to take her but double the rate. The last major thing that Wanda noted was just how peaceful the house seemed. It wasn’t a mansion but by no means was the house small. 

There was a disconnected garage near the house as well as the nice front garden. Hardly any neighbors around and by the looks of it, the greenery coming from the forest across the road was a sight to see. 

All of it felt so odd. ‘Did Y/n actually grow up in a place like this?’

And as if the Devil called for her, the door opened wide. Wanda’s name was called by the very person she missed the most.

“Maximoff?” Slowly turning around, Wanda could feel her heart beat out of her chest. The carry-on bag she was holding suddenly felt too heavy and all she could focus on was, ‘Y/n wears glasses?’

They were simple square tortoise shell frames, yet something about them felt so innocent, like a child telling their best friend their first ever crush in life. Feeling herself blush, Wanda cleared her throat, almost forgetting why she was there. 

“Hey.” Nothing more could come out as Wanda continued to look at Y/n, her white shirt and sky blue striped shorts were harder to ignore. The cherry on top was the slightly messy hair. If Wanda could some up this whole moment, it was that Evergreen University robbed her of seeing this Y/n. And by all means, she wanted compensation. “Can I come in?” 

Regardless of how confused Y/n appeared to be, she still let Wanda in her home. The brunette could tell that her rival had a lot of questions yet didn’t want to be rude about it. Before the conversation could continue, the loud sound of heels strutting forward caught their attention. 

“Honey! I didn’t know you had guests.” Out came an older woman in business casual dress. Her face felt youthful but her eyes showed a lot of wisdom in them. Like a fish out of water, Wanda almost felt confused at the immediate hug that she was pulled into. “I’m Maria, Y/n’s Mom. And who must you be?” 

Wanda almost fainted at how quick Maria’s eyes were to analyze her. Hoping she wasn’t too underdressed, Wanda responded with, “I’m Wanda Maximoff, Y/n’s classmate.” 

Maria’s smile slightly faltered as she took a longer look at the girl in front of her. Suddenly, everything made sense to the older woman as she looked back to Y/n, almost trying to confirm if this was the girl. And Y/n hadn’t needed to even say a word, as her mother took the silent look in her eyes as the confirmation she needed.

“Oh dear, it’s finally nice to put a face around a familiar name.” Wanda refused to look at Y/n as she continued to make eye contact with Maria. The newfound knowledge that Y/n actually speaks about her to her parents was more than she could take. “I’m glad you’re finally able to visit us.”

“I hope I’m not intruding.” Maria clicked her tongue and led Wanda deeper into the house where the kitchen was. 

While Maria focused on getting fresh lemonade from the fridge, Wanda gravitated towards the view from the kitchen. The large windows that practically covered a large chunk of the wall showcased the backyard and all of its beauty. 

Correct with her assumptions, the house was exactly on the coast. It overlooked a large part of the ocean as well as the land that curved with it. From what she could tell, there seemed to be a pathway that led down to a dock with two boats anchored to it. 

“Here’s some fresh lemonade. You must be so exhausted from the flight and the drive.” Maria looked over at Y/n with a disapproving look. “You should’ve picked her up. You know better than to let guests drive from there.” 

“Oh no - this was a surprise ma’am. Y/n had no idea I was coming at all.” Maria looked over at the bag that Wanda was still carrying, motion for Y/n to grab it. 

“I’m assuming you’ll be staying here?” Wanda couldn’t tell if she was already over welcoming her stay. Reading Y/n’s expression was hard as her rival grabbed the carry on from her hands.

“Well-”

“Please, it would be an honor to have you here. The closest hotel is more than thirty minutes away unless you’ve rented a closer airbnb?” Wanda remembered the rentals nearby that offered one night stay at their detached suites. Unfortunately, the starting price was $1000.00 each night. Although her family could afford it, it was unreasonable to ask them to pay for such things. “So what do you say?” 

Wanda looked at Maria, her eyes were practically pleading for Wanda to stay but as she looked back at Y/n, she couldn’t understand what was behind those brown eyes. ‘Did she want me to stay?’ 

But before she could overthink, the slight nod Y/n gave made her smile. “I guess I have a hotel to cancel.” 

Maria squealed in delight as she grabbed her phone from the counter. “Don’t worry about that dear. I know the owner and they will be able to cancel for me. Why don’t you go ahead and settle into the guest room beside Y/n’s. How long will you be staying with us?” 

Before she could respond, Y/n finally spoke, “Two weeks. She’s going to be keeping me company while you and father go to New York.” Wanda didn’t know how it was possible but somehow, Maria’s smile grew even bigger. “Let’s go.” 

Giving a small wave towards Maria, Wanda followed behind Y/n, looking at the various walls that were decorated with family pictures. Feeling overwhelmingly alarmed by the lack of reaction from Y/n, Wanda was thinking of ways to explain her attendance. 

Was it better to go with the ‘I really want you to come back to Evergreen University for my sake because I miss you’ or ‘the University made a mistake and wants you back. They simply asked me to deliver it to you��? Regardless, no explanation or lie felt satisfactory. 

“Welcome to your room.” The door was slowly pushed open by the light coming from the backyard touched the hallway. With its warm glow, the sky blue room felt more comforting. As Wanda slowly walked in and marveled at the size of it, Y/n dropped the bag off at the luggage rack beside the dresser. 

Touching the wall the shiplaps, Wanda grew impressed at how clean everything was. “There’s a private bathroom at that door with a connecting closet. Any spare linens and towels you will need are in there. Plus, if you don’t have enough hygienic products, the drawers under the sink should provide enough options for you.” 

Y/n clicked her tongue, thinking of any other rules she needed to inform Wanda. “Since it will be just you and I, you don’t have to worry too much about how you dress. Everything in the house is free for you to tour around besides my parent’s room and my father’s office.” 

Y/n walked to the other side of the room, opening the glass door that pushed out, allowing the whole room to be open to the backyard. “We don’t really have bugs over here so if you want to have a nice breeze, just open the door like this. But at night, just remember to lock it up for security purposes.”

Y/n pulled the door back along its place causing a slight click when everything returned to normal. “I know you must be tired so I’ll let you get situated. In like three hours, I’ll take you out for dinner. Is ramen and sushi fine with you?” 

Wanda blushed at Y/n’s stare. Sure, there were countless times they’ve looked each other in the eye, but something about this felt new. Like they weren’t rivals but simply friends. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.” 

“Perfect. Let me take care of some things before my parents leave for their trip.” Y/n grabbed the door handle.

“Wait - Y/n,” Y/n looked back to Wanda, “thank you.” With a small smile, the brown eyed door closed the door allowing Wanda to finally relax. 

“How am I supposed to tell Mom and Dad that you decided to take an impromptu vacation at Y/n’s? I mean, didn’t you just get Dad to accept her coming back?” Pietro groaned over the phone, feeling unbelievably stressed at the situation his sister put him in. 

“You’ll figure out a way because you owe me. You know I wouldn’t do such a thing like this at all.” Wanda got off the bed as she hung up the wet towel on the hook. She looked up at the clock noticing that she had around thirty minutes left before Y/n would come to get her. 

“That’s what makes me worry. This isn’t like you. Usually you hate spontaneous things, always preferring to know what’s going to happen in the next month with as much detail as possible.” Wanda grabbed the blow dryer under the sink, preparing to end the conversation with Pietro. His opinions echoed loudly in the room as Wanda stood trying to figure out why she hadn’t spoken up to correct Y/n earlier. 

“I don’t know why…but it’s like Y/n brings out a different side of me. It comes with so much uncertainty that it scares me.” Looking over herself in the mirror, Wanda could predict just about everything in her life. To when she’ll probably get married, receive a nobel prize, build her dream house, and start a family, everything was just so calculated. “Like what if I make a fool of myself?”

Pietro was silent for a second, knowing his words would have a deep impact on Wanda. With a sigh, he said, “Wands…I honestly do hope you make a fool of yourself. Because you’ll be one step closer to realizing that the unpredictable part of life is what makes the stress and worries so much more worth it.” 

There was a knock on the other side of the door. Pietro had covered the phone and yelled, “Coming!” 

“Look, I gotta go. I think Mom and Dad are wanting to get dinner outside. I’ll let them know about the change of plans. Just keep me updated, okay?” 

“I will. Bye Piet, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“I’m not getting in that thing.” Wanda stood outside the garage, the contraption that Y/n called a car by no means looked safe to even drive. 

“Maximoff, I promise it’s safe. Plus, it’s a small town meaning less likely for crashes and hardly a long driving time.” Y/n leaned up against the driver’s side. The cocky smile on her face made Wanda blush. 

“For God’s sake, it doesn’t have doors.” Wanda pointed out, hoping that Y/n would want to use the car beside it. 

“It’s a Jeep, Maximoff. That’s the whole point.” Y/n hopped in the car and put the key in the ignition. Soon, the roar of the engine and the bright lights came on. Rolling forward, Y/n stopped right beside Wanda. 

With her right arm behind the passenger seat, the messy beach curls in her hair, Wanda could’ve sworn that she was at the wrong place. Because where did the Y/n from Evergreen University go? The one that would stay in the library just as long as she did. The one that was just as focused on academics as she was. 

Because never would she have imagined that this would be the same Y/n. The one that feels like academics is just a side thing in her life. ‘Did our competition rob me of seeing the real you?’ 

“Please don’t make me drag you into this. I’ll even grab my motorcycle helmet-”

“You have a motorcycle?!” There Y/n goes again, with her ever loving cocky smile. Like she knew that Wanda was scared and was enjoying it. And if this is what Y/n looked like with a little bit of confidence, imagine what a lot would do. 

“Look, we can ride that on a different day. Now for the love of God Maximoff, please get in the car and let me take you out to eat.” 

Looking into those brown eyes, Wanda could only think one thing, ‘How could I ever deny her?’

So as much as she reluctantly wanted to get in, she took a deep breath and hopped inside. “If we crash, you owe me your life, Y/l/n.”  

True to Y/n’s word, the town was close. One minute, the curves of the roads were surrounded with a vast forest. The alpine smell constantly surrounded them. Feeling the wind through her hands, Wanda almost missed the second that the coast came back. 

“Maximoff, look.” The sun sprawled on their skin with its last minutes in the sky. It was as if the sun demanded to be looked at with its blend of colors. And as they go back through a row of trees that arched over the road, Wanda couldn’t help but be entranced by it all. 

And at the very last mile of the route, right at the opposite side was the coast. Capturing Wanda's attention, she didn’t dare to focus on how close the car was to the guard rail, only trusting the fact that Y/n would never crash. Instead, Wanda focused on how at this very moment, her and Y/n shared the same view and the same admiration for the role. And that was enterally hers. 

It wasn’t until Y/n pulled into the parking lot of the ramen and sushi place that she realized the ride was over. The coast was still perfectly in view and appeared to be around a 5-10 minute walk. If she wasn’t so hungry, Wanda would have almost asked to ditch the restaurant and just sit at the beach. 

So as they walked inside, the brunette simply hoped that on some other day, they could have that talk on the beach. But for now, the food sounded amazing. 

“Booth for two please.” Wanda stood close behind Y/n as the waitress looked at Wanda with almost a surprised look. 

“Follow me this way, Y/n.” The restaurant was small in size but was filled with a lot of character. On the main side of the restaurant was a large counter that had an up close view of the chef’s making the sushi. Right on the opposite side were small booths that could fit a family of four. However, that was all the space the restaurant had. 

Seated at the back left corner, the waitress walked away to get their complimentary entrees and water. “So, what do you think? I know it’s rather small but I promise, the food is absolutely amazing. My family knows the chef personally and he makes the best everytime.” 

“It seems like your family knows a lot of people. First the local hotel manager and now the head chef of this business.”  Wanda lightly joked as the shrimp tempura and miso soup was placed between them. 

“Are you two ready to order?” Grabbing her pen and pad, the waitress mainly looked at Y/n for approval. Although there was no inkling that the girl was interested in Y/n, the sour thoughts of it made Wanda slightly frown. 

“Hey Chelsea, can we actually get my usual and can you add the tonkotsu ramen?” Chelsea flashed a pretty smile as she collected the menus, knowing it was rather pointless to have even set them out. 

“Sure thing. We’ll have that right up for you.” Y/n smiled back as she focused back on Wanda. “Sorry about that. But yeah, my family is pretty connected with the town. I think how small the population is, everyone's parents had known each other from high school. And I guess it’s the same with me. Majority of the people I grew up with either stay or leave for a bigger city.” 

“What about you? Are you wanting to leave this place?” Y/n thought it over as she finally grabbed her own boul to pour some miso soup. 

“I’ve thought about it. Leave the town for a couple years. See what it’s like out there. But I know myself. I’ll probably end up coming back here.” Blowing on the spoon, Y/n took her first sip, enjoying the rich flavor of it. 

“Coming back to a place like this must be nice. While I do love my home, something about your little part of Earth has honestly got me jealous.” Y/n smirked, enjoying the fact that Wanda loved her hometown already. 

“Life out here feels a bit more simple. Don’t get me wrong though, I do like what Evergreen does bring me.” 

Placing her hand under her chin, Wanda leaned closer, wanting to hear more about Y/n’s thoughts. “What does Evergreen have that this place doesn’t?” 

Was it delusional to think that maybe Y/n would have said ‘you’ at that very moment? Was it so wrong to want that? Because Wanda couldn’t help but feel that way as she waited for Y/n’s answer. And maybe she would have been satisfied hearing anything if it weren’t for another interruption. 

“Here is your food. One sushi platter with a side of edamame for Y/n. And one tonkotsu ramen for you.” Sliding the hot food on the table, Wanda’s appetite suddenly grew large at the ramen in front of her. 

“If you need anything else, please let me know.” Not bothering to wait for the food to slightly cool, Wanda began eating, immediately enjoying Y/n’s choice of ramen.

“I know I should be concerned about how you found me,” with cheeks stuffed with sushi, Y/n covered her mouth as she spoke with her mouth full, “but I really don’t care. You have your ways considering you are a Maximoff.”

Swallowing the food, Y/n wiped her face almost full from all the sushi and ramen they had ordered. “But what I do care about is why you decided to come?” Y/n leaned forward as she stared directly into Wanda’s eyes. “It’s a pretty long flight. Not only that, I know you live around an hour or two from Evergreen. So you coming here was not some mere coincidence.” 

Sometimes Wanda hated how smart Y/n was and in this very moment, she absolutely despised it. If it weren’t for the somewhat dark atmosphere of the restaurant, Wanda was certain that Y/n would see how nervous she was.

Stuffing more noodles in her mouth, Wanda avoided looking at Y/n, unsure of how to bring up the manila envelope sitting in her room. ‘Would she be mad to find out that I didn’t come here originally to hang out?’

Leaning back in her seat, Y/n grabbed the last piece of her sushi. While pointing the food at Wanda, Y/n said, “Well, regardless of that…I do know that I want you to stay…especially since you’ve gone through the trouble of seeing me.” 

Growing up, Wanda hardly grew up with reassurance. Maybe it was because she didn’t really need reassurance. After all, her confidence in her calculated life was what gave her reassurance. So as she stared at the ceiling, unable to get over their conversation at the restaurant, Wanda realized that she craved reassurance. 

To be wanted by Y/n felt overwhelming in so many ways. But as her heart beated in rapid ways, she couldn’t help but keep the confession close to her mind and heart. To forever remember it. Because why did it feel so nice to be wanted? Why did something so casually stated have such an impact on her? 

Getting up from her bed, Wanda’s thoughts drifted to Y/n again, wondering if she over thought about things too. ‘Has she ever replayed moments of us in her head?’ 

Shaking her head, Wanda didn’t dare to go to that territory at this time. Already unable to sleep, she slowly opened the door and walked to the kitchen. Looking through the cabinets, she finally was able to find the glass cups. Taking one, she filled it with tap water as she stared at the ocean and the moon.

However, the glow from the firepit caught her eye. Feeling the need to see it closer, Wanda walked to the door and entered the backyard. The stone steps led to the middle of the backyard where the firepit was placed. But as Wanda purposely stepped on the grass, she couldn’t believe how soft it was. 

Trekking through the grass, Wanda could see Y/n’s outline sitting at one of the chairs. Once she was close enough, she spoke up and said, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Wanda sat at the free chair that was beside Y/n, enjoying the warmth that the firepit had provided. “A little bit. How about you? Missing home already?” 

The ocean was loud at night, but something about the way it was crashing up against the shore felt relaxing, almost lulling her to sleep. “My mind feels…busy. Can’t sleep with too many thoughts running around.” 

“I see…even when the summer is here, your mind stays thinking.” 

‘Yeah, but it hasn’t stopped thinking about you.’ Feeling too vulnerable to admit her own thoughts, Wand focused on the fire infront of her. 

Letting the silence surround them, the breeze from the ocean and the crackle from the fire pit comforted the two as they sat in their own thoughts. The sounds of nature almost made Wanda’s mind grow silent, like this was the medicine it needed. 

But silence could only go on for so long before Wanda grew curious. “I never knew you grew up in a place like this.”

“Well, you never really asked.” Wanda chuckled. This was the Y/n she knew. The one that was always quick witted. 

“Well, with a place like this, you must have grown up doing a water sport.” Wanda twisted her position to lay on her side, hoping to make eye contact with Y/n. 

“I didn’t do sports really growing up. They only offered the typical stuff like soccer and basketball. I was mainly interested in kayaking and water rafting from an early age.” Y/n looked over at Wanda and smiled. It was a nice feeling to just talk to each other without the constant bickering about school. “But in highschool, they offered a sailing team and I decided to join. Ever since then, it’s been a big hobby of mine.”

Pointing over at the boats, Y/n continued, “You see that sail boat right there? That one is mine.” Looking over at the dock, Wanda could easily see the all white sailboat.

“Jeez, she’s really pretty. And almost as huge as your ego.” Y/n scoffed at Wanda’s quick jab, but the smile on her face persisted. “Who taught you all of this though? Did you have a coach growing up?” There was a small twitch in Y/n’s smile that Wanda caught. Almost wanting to apologize, she waited for Y/n to speak. 

“My father taught me everything about the ocean. That’s actually part of what his business is in. So from fishing, boating, sailing, kayaking, he taught me.” There was a slight pause as Y/n looked out at the ocean, almost like she was missing the simpler times. But within a second, the smile was back on her face as she looked back at Wanda. 

“How come you didn’t major in something like this? It seems like it’s your calling compared to your double major of computer engineering and accounting.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders almost in a ‘it’s pretty obvious’ manner. 

“I do like my majors, but don’t ever mention to my father that I’m in accounting. He doesn’t really need to know that.” Wanda zipped her lips and threw the key away causing Y/n’s smile to further widen. “But I guess I wanted to keep this part of my life as a hobby…I see what it does to people when you suddenly turn a passion into a job…and it’s not the best.”

Sitting up from her seat, Y/n sat at the edge facing Wanda. “I want this part of me to be part of the reason that I need a well paying job. So that way I can support all the hobbies that come with loving the ocean. Because there’s one thing I truly love more than anything in the world and it’s being out there.” 

Reaching her hand out, Y/n got up with an excited look on her face. “Let me show you something.” 

Wanda ignored the feeling in her chest as she grabbed Y/n’s hand. She was led down further down the backyard and down the stairs and on to the dock, hand’s never breaking apart. 

Leading the way to her sailboat, Y/n helped Wanda climb up the ladder and onto the deck. “Meet my precious boat Halfway.” 

Wanda smiled in confusion of the name. “Halfway? Why that name?” The name was odd, but just like another secret, Wanda stashed it in her mind for safe keeping. 

“Stay a while and you’ll know. But you said you were unable to sleep, right?” Wanda nodded in agreement causing Y/n to go into the cabin. 

Following her inside, Wanda could barely see what was in the room with how dark it was. She did see Y/n turn on the heater as well as climb on the queen sized bed that was at the end of the room. Popping open the hatch, the light from the moon suddenly beamed into the cabin. 

“Welcome to the best sleep you’ll ever have.” Wanda had a ridiculous look on her face as she waited for Y/n to say this was a joke. But as her rival continued to smile, she knew it was serious. 

“Is this even safe?” Y/n groaned at Wanda’s apprehensiveness and pulled her closer to the bed. 

“We are currently docked so there’s no way for us to be pulled to sea. Plus, even if we were, I know how to get us back home.” Seeing Wanda’s relucantat face caused Y/n to get closer, to better plead her case. “But Maximoff you have to try it. Otherwise, you’ll always think that sleeping on land is the best thing when in fact, it’s not.” 

Wanda thought of multiple assumptions or facts as to why Y/n’s statement was in fact wrong. Getting the ‘best’ sleep was opinionated. Plus, the meer movement of the ocean would probably cause someone to get seasick during their sleep. Not only that, would bugs get in? 

The thoughts in her head spiral, but the more the moon shone into those brown eyes, she knew she couldn’t resist. 

So with a sigh, Wanda asked, “Can this fit even fit the both of us?”

“It can definitely fit the both of us. Plus, I’ll put a pillow in between incase I accidentally get too close at night.” 

Wanda started to blush again at the thought of cuddling Y/n. “If I wake up cranky, I’m blaming you Y/l/n.”

“And if I’m right, you’ll have to go kayaking with me.” Unable to back down from a deal, Wanda smirked, the same way she did back at Evergreen. 

“Deal.” 

Chapter 5

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[chestharrington]

Fixation

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: SMUT (fingering, handjob, p in v). Dubious Consent (coercion, power imbalance, failure to pull out), unhealthy/probably illegal power imbalance, stripper!reader, gator is an asshole (like extremely), degradation, misogyny, sexual assault (by a non major character), brief violence, kind of stockholm syndrome if you think about it, unhappy ending

Summary: Gator Tillman’s fixation of the week just so happens to be you, for better or worse.

A/N: If you know me personally please do not read this thank u <3

The foggy clouds of your breath were painted pink by the glow of the neon sign— The Venus Lounge— with a cute little clamshell opening and closing and everything. 

You had a velour sweatsuit pulled over the skimpy costume you’d wear for your next dance, hot pink and bedazzled across the ass. It was trendy maybe fifteen years prior, so it cost just about nothing when you bought it at a bin sale. 

Sweet, strawberry-scented vapor poured from your lips as you exhaled. You hated this stupid thing— you’d rather smoke a cigarette like a goddamn adult. But the owner insisted, “You ladies gotta stay smelling nice and sweet and respectable for our clientele.” Which was fucking stupid considering they came in smelling like sweat and mud and body odor. 

From the alley, you could get a sneak peek of whoever was coming your way for the night— the big spenders, the handsy ones, the cheap ones… and Gator Tillman’s stupid entourage, who you avoided like the plague.

You made the mistake of getting cozy with him. Once. A few well-paid lap dances, then a private dance in one of the dimly lit back rooms. He’d been handsy, and you relished in it, in him. A handsome, powerful guy who looked at you like you were the hottest woman he’d ever seen. You sucked him off in the private room and he gave you a hundred to shut the fuck up about it. Like you were some sort of whore.

Gator. What a stupid fucking name. His dad was a grade-A cocksucker, so it made sense that he’d name his son something so goddamn stupid. The other girls were scared of Roy, with good reason. Their boyfriend get too rough? He’d brush it off— no domestic abuse charges on his watch. The man is the master of the house, and the woman is his property. One girl swore he came onto her, and she got a broken arm when she brushed him off. A lot of people thought that stepping to the Tillman’s meant winding up dead. 

Fuck that. 

You hadn’t wanted to wind up in this town anyway. You were married, once upon a time. You had the tattoo of his name on your hipbone, a shitty rental house in West Texas, and a wedding band he bought from a pawn shop. He found a job up north, and you followed like an obedient puppy. 

It wasn’t your fault he’d racked up gambling debts— that he owed the wrong people money he didn’t have. And it wasn’t your fault that he was fucking a waitress at the local diner— thin, blonde, perky. The divorce was settled quickly— but you were left penniless, in bumfuck North Dakota, in Tillman territory. 

Well, it was a good thing you still had your looks. 

You saw the police cruiser pull into the lot, heard the slam of the car door and the mindless chatter between the valiant boys in blue. Those assholes did about as much for the city as a tick does for a dog. Your phone buzzed against your hip, warning you that your break was up. You took one more puff from your vape and slipped back in the door to the dressing room. 

You warned everyone that Gator and his boys were out there as you slipped out of your jogging suit and adjusted your dancewear beneath— a baby blue bikini set that you’d bedazzled by hand. You slipped a sheer skirt overtop and surveyed yourself in the mirror. There was still a flush on your cheeks from being out in the cold, but it would be fine. 

You slipped out onto the floor, passing by crowded tables. It was busy, even for a Saturday, which meant more money to take home. A hand grabbed your ass and squeezed it in a meaty paw. It was some drunk old guy who probably couldn’t even get it up anymore but had maintained his pervy inclinations. You bit your cheek to keep from saying anything and kept making your rounds.

“You want a dance?” You’d ask the safe guys— the ones who looked nervous to be there, whose eyes kept flitting around like they’d get caught any moment. Their button-ups were ironed, their slacks pressed. Usually, they had a nice fountain pen in their pocket. Clerks, CPAs, any of those nerdy desk jobs. 

Most of the time they declined, too nervous to go that far, but occasionally you’d get a yes, do a bit of grinding, and walk away with a nice tip. 

You’d done a few lap dances by the time you passed by Gator and his crew. Your money was tucked into the band at your hip, concealing your ex-husband’s name. 

He called you like a dog– whistling low. You froze, and turned to face him, all smug and pleased with himself. 

“You need somethin’, Deputy?” You asked, jaw clenched, raising a brow. “Because if you do, you can ask like a gentleman. I’m a lady, not a dog.”

He laughed, glancing back at his pack of asshole cops to make sure they saw the next part. “Really? ‘Cause it seems to me you’re actin’ like a bitch.” They all laughed, because of course they did. They thought he was so, so clever. Before you could respond, he held up a fifty-dollar bill between two fingers. “C’mere, girl. I want a dance.”

Your eyes flicked between him and the fifty between his fingers. You were broke, but was it worth it? He saw your hesitation and his smug grin grew. “Aw, you need it that bad, huh?” He patted his thigh twice. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Anyone in their right mind would’ve said no, and walked away with their dignity intact, but he was right— you needed it bad. 

So you approached and tried to pluck the money from his hand, but he pulled it away, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Nuh-uh, Sweetheart. Gotta earn it first.”

You huffed in disbelief, taking a step back. But meeting his gaze told you how serious he was. You swallowed your pride and straddled his lap, grinding to the beat. 

It felt degrading, dancing on him while his friends all leered. Your tits pressed against Gator’s shirt, his hands firm on your hips, even though he knew he wasn’t allowed to touch. If you called him out on it, he’d probably just say it was nothing he hadn’t done before.

It could’ve been one song, or maybe more. Probably more. When he finally removed his hands, he nodded for you to get off. You swallowed uncomfortably and took a few awkward steps back. 

“The money,” you said weakly.

His face scrunched slightly, like he was considering it. “Eh… I don’t think you earned it, Sweetheart. I mean, I’m not even hard.” 

He got a real kick out of that, and out of the kicked puppy look in your eyes. You swallowed it down like a bitter pill and met his gaze. “It’s not my fault that all the blow you do is killing your dick. Keep your fuckin’ money, Gator. I don’t want it.”

Which was a lie. You wanted it more than anything… but you knew you’d pissed him off. You could see the vein popping at his temple, the way his hand clenched around his beer bottle. Better to pretend you were better off without it and walk off with some dignity left.

It took about three steps to realize that there was a little less pressure on your hip than there used to be. Your hand felt along the band of the bikini and came up blank. He’d taken your fucking money. 

You heard him giggling behind you once he knew you realized, but what was the point? Who would you call to get it back? The police?

By the end of the night, you counted your meager earnings and tucked it away in your bag. Without your dancewear and the makeup and the heels, you could pass for the average citizen of Stark County. 

You bundled up in a parka before you walked to your car, a shitty, beat-up car nearly older than you were. One of the side mirrors was ripped off, and the bumper was caved in, but she ran. 

Tucked into the windshield was a tiny note, in a messy, nearly illegible scrawl— Impress me next time. You crumpled it and tossed it onto the asphalt.

  You saw him again on Monday. The club was closed on Sunday, due to an ordinance that Roy Tillman had put in place about businesses of ill repute operating on the holy day. You wondered what he thought about his son bankrolling the lives of half of the strippers who worked at the club.

He was alone, though, which scared and comforted you in equal measure. You watched him from afar, sitting at the bar, drinking a White Claw and puffing on that stupid fucking vape. 

There was a girl in his lap, one of the newer dancers who didn’t know better. Whatever. She’d figure him out soon enough. 

Mondays were slow. You did a few dances onstage, made the rounds, flirted with some of the regulars. Gator was blissfully elsewhere, which you loved. 

The night had been pretty tame until just before last call, when an overserved realtor got loud and handsy. 

“C’mon, why don't you take me back to one of those rooms without the cameras?” One asked as you gave him a half-hearted lap dance. His breath was like a punch bowl at a senior prom, and his fingers dug into the plush of your ass. 

You winced as he pulled you harder against him, and you felt the uncomfortable prod of his dick against you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He was grinding up against you, sweaty at his temples and forehead. He was deceptively strong, holding you down against him so he could rut against you and get off. “Ya know, the private rooms for the big tippers. Better than all this over the clothes stuff.”

“You need to stop,” you said, as firmly as you could, shoving at his chest to really get your point across. He didn’t let up, and gave you a smarmy grin as he began roughly moving your hips of his own accord. “Hey, stop it, asshole.”

“Hey, you’re the one offerin’ me a dance,” he said. “I sold a nice big house today, got a real good commission. I could tip ya real good if you’re nice.”

“Let me go!” You shoved at his chest, slapping at him, but he just grinned. You were just wondering if biting his ear off would do the trick when you felt yourself pulled off him and tossed aside on the floor like a rag doll. 

Then there was the soft sound of blows landing against a stomach. Then the crunch of a broken nose. The wheezy rattle of the realtor’s breath once he started spitting up blood and teeth. Each punch made you flinch until finally, it relented. 

“Should’ve let her go, asshole.” Gator’s knuckles were bloodied, and you realized he was holding out a hand to help you up. You took it, nervously, and readjusted your costume where the realtor had tugged at them. “You hurt?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine but is— I mean, is he gonna be okay?”

Gator’s brows furrowed as he spared a glance toward the bloodied pile of meat on the floor. He spat in his direction and shrugged. “Who fuckin’ cares? Goddamn lowlife.”

You wondered if he could sense the irony. His face lit up in recognition, then he knelt beside the realtor, patting him down, searching for something. He stood and held up a fancy, monogrammed leather wallet. 

He sifted through, retrieving bill after bill. “Here. Y’earned it.” It was more cash than you brought home in a week. More cash than anyone should carry on themselves at once. 

“I’m not taking that,” you said weakly. “I can’t.”

He rolled his eyes, tucking the money in your bra. “Such a fuckin’ bitch, you know that? Can’t even say thank you or nothin’.”

He left you standing there over the broken body of the asshole realtor, who may or may not have been dying. Either way, you figured the Tillman’s would handle it. For better or worse.

  “I didn’t fuckin’ do anything,” you argued, which was a lie. And it’s not like anyone would listen even if it wasn’t. Police are on their way, they said. They’ll deal with thieving filth like you.

Well… they didn’t have to get quite so personal. You sat outside the Manager’s office at the stupid fucking sex shop, picking at your cuticles until you heard the police cruiser roll up outside. You heard the door slam, and muffled chatter until you saw him walk in.

“Well… look who got herself into some trouble. And here of all places too.”

Fuck. Gator Fucking Tillman. 

You glanced up at him for a moment before returning to your nails. The shop owner was talking the deputy’s fucking ear off until you heard the question you dreaded. 

“What is it she was tryin’ to steal? I mean… there’s a lot to choose from, I’ll tell ya that.”

You watched with a thin sense of dread as the shop owner laid out your would-be haul of lingerie that had been stuffed into your purse. Gator grinned as he glanced over at you, then back at the lingerie. 

“Can I have the office? I need some privacy to interrogate the perp.” The manager complied, bending to the will of the law or whatever. Gator grabbed you by the arm and tugged you inside, closing the door firmly behind him. 

You watched as he strode towards the nice armchair behind the desk, then sat down, legs spread wide. He unzipped the stupid police vest and shrugged it off, so it landed in a pile on the floor. For a moment, it was quiet as you stared at him dumbly, then he snapped his fingers. 

“What? You want me to tell you why did it? Three fucking guesses.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “No, I want you to try it on.” 

You swallowed, and when you spoke your tongue felt dumb and heavy. “What?”

“You heard me. Try it all on, and tell me if it was worth the trouble.” He looked at you expectantly, and when you didn’t move, he sighed. “It’s this, or I take you to the station, get you booked, and all that. I doubt anyone’s gonna pay your bail, so that’s a few days before arraignment. Then it’s a court case for larceny, and let’s be honest, you’re guilty.”

You stared at him, speechless. He stood up suddenly, grabbing his things before you interrupted— “Wait! Wait. Just… sit back down.”

He grinned. “There’s a good girl. Make it good for me, yeah? You know how.”

You huffed, heart pounding as you grabbed the first set and turned around to change. You had just pulled off your shirt when he cleared his throat behind you. Your hands shook as you turned around, barely covering your tits. 

“C’mon, I said to make it good, Sweetheart,” he said with a thinly veiled sense of amusement. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

The fucking asshole. But you took a breath and steadied yourself. “Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than anything. 

His gaze was intense, tracing each curve and dip of your body as you moved. You slipped the bra on, clipping it shut with shaking hands.

“Alright, now you can turn around,” he said, nodding towards the panties in your hand. “And do it nice and slow for me.”

Your face burned with embarrassment as you turned around, working the buttons of your skirt so you could slip it down your legs. It fell into a pile around your ankles and fanned out like a flower. You hooked your thumbs into the panties you were wearing, pink with little flowers spotting the fabric. As slowly as you could manage while terrified and pissed, you slipped them down your legs. 

When you spared a glance at Gator, he was smirking right back at you. “Give those here,” he said, holding his hand out expectantly. 

“What?”

“Geez, you’re fuckin’ dumb. Lemme see ‘em.” He more or less snatched the panties from your grip, smiling like the cat who got the cream as he held them up. “Might have to keep ‘em. Evidence.”

You swallowed down your annoyance and pulled the lacy panties up your legs. When you were finished, you turned, arms crossed over your chest protectively. Shockingly, he was quiet as he looked at you, eyes raking over your tits, and every bare piece of skin he could see. It felt like you stood there under his gaze for hours before he finally spoke up. 

“It’s not doin’ much for ya, sweetheart. I mean, you don’t look very fuckable.”

It landed like a blow to your gut. He was an asshole, so it should’ve meant nothing… but he knew exactly where your soft spots were, and just how hard to dig his fingers in. “Fuck you, Gator.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he cooed, patronizing and smug. “So fuckin’ sensitive, huh? Can’t take a joke. C’mere, lemme see you.” He grabbed your wrist in the tightly packed office and tugged you forward, so you practically stumbled on top of him.

You flinched as his hand moved up the back of your thigh, warm and calloused. When he gave your ass a rough squeeze, you closed your eyes and shivered. 

“Ya know, I saw your husband the other day.” His finger traced along the name on your hip— Jack. Every loop and whorl of the cursive claimed by his touch. “Looked real happy with that girl of his. Sarah, right? The waitress he was fuckin’ behind your back?”

You swallowed hard and said nothing, but he was more than happy to keep running his mouth. “Well, she’s not special. I’ve fucked Sarah too, and she just laid there like a dead fish the whole time.”

“Maybe you just weren’t that good.” You smirked as you replied, unable to resist being a bit of an asshole right back. 

“You gettin’ smart right now?” He gave your ass a quick slap, making you squeak. “I was trying to give you a compliment, but you don’t fuckin’ deserve it. You’re so fuckin’ used up that you don’t even know what good is.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure you think that. It’s easy to blame it on the girl when you can’t make ‘em cum, right?”

His jaw clenched, anger painting his features. “Wouldn’t you fuckin’ like to know, huh?” He caught sight of the smirk on your face and shoved you back. “Put on the next one.”

Fucking dickhead. You rolled your eyes and quickly stripped off the lingerie, throwing it in his general direction once it was off. You weren’t as graceful in dressing in the next set. Why give him a show and let him win? Once it was on, you crossed your arms and looked at him expectantly. 

“Well?”

He cocked his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, I like it better than the first, but I don’t think your heart’s quite in it. Gimme a twirl.”

You gave a slow turn, then met his gaze again, raising a brow. He ran a hand over his mouth, looking you up and down. You caught the slightest movement as he spread his legs a little wider. It only served to highlight the bulge in the front of his stupid fucking cargos.

“You’re really enjoyin’ yourself, huh?” You snapped, eyes narrowed. He laughed, following your gaze to his lap. 

“Well,” he began, lazily moving a hand to cup his growing hard-on. “I could always find a way to enjoy myself more. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

You ignored him and began trying on the last set you’d attempted to steal. A bright red set, skimpier than the others, which you were sure he fucking loved. Before he could ask, you gave a slow twirl. 

“Atta girl,” he cooed. He was blatantly stroking himself over the fabric, eyes half-lidded. You swallowed hard, watching the sight before you. It was like something out of a bad porno. Or a really good one. Jury was out. He patted his thigh, nodding you over. “C’mere, I won’t bite.”

A moment of hesitation passed through you, wondering if this was really what you wanted. It was like you could hear his voice in your head, asking if you could do any better. You sighed and slowly settled onto his lap. He looked at you with a funny sort of expression— not so much that he was smug, just… a bit pleased. 

“You gonna give me a dance?” His hand rested on your thigh, fingers tapping erratically. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes. “Is this ‘cause I didn’t pay the other night?” You scowled. “I mean, I think you owe me now. I paid ya back a hundred times over thanks to Mr. Realtor from the other day.”

   You stayed silent and still, looking anywhere but his face. He took your chin between his fingers and turned you to face him, so close you could taste the fruit flavor from that goddamn vape on his breath. 

“Remember how turned on you got just from havin’ my cock in that pretty mouth of yours?” He said, voice barely above a whisper. He ran a thumb along your bottom lip, tugging at it slightly. “I still remember the way you had to slip a hand between your legs to play with yourself.”

You made a weak sound in the back of your throat as you remembered it— that desperate, all-consuming need. Maybe it’s because he was an asshole, or maybe it was all of the authority. Maybe that’s why you shoplifted anyway. Because you knew he’d be the one to show up. 

“You ever been with someone as big as me before?”

You shivered. “No.”

A wide smile spread across his lips. “Since?” You just shook your head. “Betcha been dreamin’ about it too. Stuffin’ that greedy little pussy full of your fingers whenever you think about me.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t quite deny it. It wasn’t a frequent fantasy, but it was there. “You’re a real narcissist. You know that?”

He grinned. “That’s not a no, is it?” He leaned in closer, nuzzling against your throat, his breath hot. “Bet if I slipped my hand inside those panties, they’d be fuckin’ soaked.”

And despite your better judgment, you fucking whimpered. All but confirming it. 

“Yeah, I thought so,” he cooed. His hand found purchase on the small of your back, and when he applied the smallest bit of pressure, you found yourself giving in. Slowly, your hips ground against his, making a soft sigh escape your lips each time your cunt met his clothed dick. 

“Want me to find some music?” He asked with a boyish grin. “I bet I have Pony somewhere on my phone.”

You shook your head before he could even try to grab it. “I’ll kill you if you even try.” He laughed, just a bit. It was rare to hear him laugh and have it not be at your, or anyone else’s expense. 

You grabbed his hands, moving them to your waist, just at your ribcage. The tips of his fingers brushed against your tits, and he smiled.

“Takin’ charge now, are ya? You could’ve just put ‘em right here.” He moved his hands up, cupping your breasts in his large hands. You moaned softly as he gave a slight squeeze, arching into his touch. “ See? That’s much better, huh? Just take what you need, baby. I’ll give it right to ya.”

Take what you need? You could do that. You moved your hands along his chest, fighting the urge to just tear off his shirt and reveal the white tank top you knew he always wore beneath. Instead, you slipped your hands to his goddamn cargos and made quick work of the button and zipper. 

He sat back and watched as you spit into your palm, his eyes hazy with arousal. You slipped your hand inside his pants and slipped beneath the band of his plaid boxers. A low groan escaped his lips when you wrapped your hand around him and squeezed.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Just like that.” His head fell back, leaving the plane of his neck for the taking. Your lips pressed against the skin there, leaving a mixture of soft kisses and bites as you worked him in your hand. 

Gator’s stamina was absolute dogshit. You could tell when he was close from the way he’d pulse in your hand and whimper like a fuckin’ girl. You’d just have to squeeze him at his base to stave it off, give him a few seconds to cool off before you kept going. 

“You want me?” You asked, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. 

“So fuckin’ bad.” He was bucking up into your fist, chasing the sweet pleasure of your soft hand around him. 

A smile spread across your lips. “Then earn it.” You pulled back, meeting his gaze as you removed your hand from him. 

He sat there, panting and staring dumbly as you sat atop the desk and spread your legs invitingly. “C’mon, Gator. You’re a smart boy, you’ll figure it out.”

He huffed with annoyance as he stood, towering over you as he pulled off his shirt to reveal that fucking tank top. He leaned down just slightly, so his arms were caging you in. “I’ll fuckin’ earn it, alright. I’m gonna own this pussy by the time I’m through.”

He knelt between your legs, kissing his way up your thighs. You cried out as his teeth dug into the plush skin, leaving an indentation that would probably turn purple the next day. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole.” He just grinned, clearly pleased with himself. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties and tugged them down. 

He was quick to drag his fingers through your slit, coating them in your arousal. The wet sounds of him playing with you, spreading you open for him, made your cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

“I’m an asshole, but you clearly fuckin’ like it, huh?” He said, holding up his fingers, glistening with your juices, as proof. His smirk made annoyance and arousal bubble up within you, tangling in an utterly infuriating way. “Relax for me, yeah? Gonna stretch you out, make you feel real good.”

You moaned softly as his fingers pressed against your entrance, teasing you with the idea of being full. A gentleman would start off slow, work you up to two fingers gradually. Gator Tillman wasn’t a fucking gentleman, but you didn’t care. 

“Shhh… open up for me,” He said, speaking not to you, but to your cunt. “That’s it, atta girl.” A low whimper escaped you as his fingers pressed inside, thick and stretching you just right. Your walls fluttered around the intrusion, needing him deeper, more, more.

“Jesus Christ, Gator,” His fingers flexed at just the right spot, making you cry out desperately. He grinned, then pressed a kiss to your thigh as he began fucking you with his fingers, acutely aware that the slightest twitch of his fingers could make you fucking sing for him. 

It’s a funny thing he does with his fingers— not quite jackhammering them in and out like most of the other guys you’d been with but not exactly too far away. And you were fucking whining for it, your hips canting against his fingers until he finally had to throw his arm across your pelvis to just, in his words, keep you fuckin’ still.

It felt good, but you were also very aware that he was purposefully, or, worse, unknowingly avoiding your clit. The more you considered it, the more convinced you were that it was the latter. He was homeschooled, apparently, by his religious nut father, which meant his sex ed was probably just porn, and not even the decent kind. 

You squirmed slightly. “Gator—”

“’M busy.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed. I mean, sure, he was good with his hands, but you would also appreciate that skill applied elsewhere. Whatever, you weren’t helpless. 

His eyes narrowed as you moved a hand between your legs, circling your clit in time with his fingers. Your head fell back as a string of moans escaped your lips. That’s what you needed. 

“God, you’re desperate,” he muttered, but he didn’t bother to redirect your hands. “I coulda done that.”

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t already so close, the pressure and attention to your clit exactly what you needed to fall over the edge. 

“I feel you squeezin’ my fingers,” he said, voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Wanna cum that bad, huh? Can’t even take what I give ya? Are you that fuckin’ needy?” When you didn’t think to answer, he leaned over and bit your thigh again. Harder.

“Fuck!” You shouted, annoyed that you’d have a second set of bruises to cover. But your annoyance melted right back into the siren call of pleasure. 

Moans tumbled from your lips before you could bring yourself to answer. “Yes, I’m that needy,” You gasped as his fingers moved deeper, harder with every thrust in. Your fingers moved faster on your clit, making your legs twitch on either side of Gator’s shoulders.

He let you teeter there on the precipice for a little longer, until you were sure you were going to tumble straight into sweet ecstasy. So close you could taste it, sweet and heady on the back of your tongue. 

And like that, Gator pulled away, slipping his fingers from your cunt and leaving you wanting. You sat there, panting and frustrated as he wiped his fingers off on your thigh. “Too fuckin’ bad. Bend over.”

He slapped the side of your thigh as he stood and looked down at you expectantly. Your legs wobbled as you stood in what little room he provided you, tits brushing against his chest for just a moment as you turned and bent over the desk. 

“Isn’t this a pretty sight?” He grabbed your ass, kneading the plush skin roughly before landing a rough smack. You winced at the sting as you spared a glance over your shoulder. He landed another slap on the opposite cheek, then spread you apart with his thumbs. “You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, you know that?”

He was quick to free his cock from the confines of his cargos and boxers. Over your shoulder, you could see the heap of clothes he’d made on the floor. In the back of your mind, you noted the very careless way he treated the gun in his thigh holster, but said nothing. It was hard to focus on improper gun handling when he had his length in his hand, stroking it slowly as he took in the sight of you. 

“You’re gonna pull out, right?” You asked, chewing your lip as you looked at him.

He rolled his eyes, the tip of his cock notched right at your entrance, making you arch against him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. I’m not stupid, I’ll pull out.”

The prettiest groan escaped him as he rocked against your cunt, coating himself in your dripping arousal before the head of his cock nudged at your entrance. 

“You want me?” He asked, his breath coming in pants. Your body felt like a fucking live wire, hyperaware of the feeling of him, just barely outside of where you craved him.

You nodded. “Uh-huh. I want you. So bad, Gator.”

He sank into you, nice and slow, so he could relish in the warm, soft feeling of your walls around him. A sappier man would’ve said it felt like heaven. Gator wasn’t sappy. 

“Goddamn, you’ve got the tightest fuckin’ pussy,” He managed once he’d bottomed out, every inch of him fully sheathed inside. “Forget what I said about you bein’ used up.”

What a gentleman. You whined softly, pushing back against him to silently beg for more. He put a hand on the small of your back and pushed down so your back arched even more. Then he fucked you in earnest. 

The noises you made should’ve been illegal— some form of indecency or something. Loud and whiny, desperate for more. Your nails scratched at the laminate of the desk, seeking something, anything to hold onto for purchase as he fucked you within an inch of your life. 

He was so big you could’ve sworn you felt him deep in your stomach, even though you knew physically that was impossible. Each thrust punched out a keening moan from your lips, a swear, a breathy whine, or just his stupid fucking name over and over again. 

He reached a hand beneath you, so his rough fingers could play with your clit. “This is what you wanted so bad, yeah?” He asked, voice breathy as he quickly rubbed your clit. “Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Gator.” You were practically babbling. Thank you thank you thank you. 

Over your shoulder, you watched him using your body, chasing his high. Every slap of your ass was for his own gratification, just to see it jiggle. He was only rubbing your clit so he could feel you squeeze him even tighter. 

You didn’t care. You fucking loved it. Even as he manhandled you, lifting your thigh and placing it on the desk so he could fuck you deeper, you just laid there and took it like a fucking champ. 

“Woulda fucked you sooner if I knew it’d be this good.” His voice wavered slightly with the effort it took to maintain the relentless pace he had set. He slapped your ass hard, making you yelp and clench around him. 

What you’d said earlier was right— you were needy. You rocked back against him, meeting him with each thrust. The sounds of his hips hitting your ass with each thrust were nearly as pornographic as both of your moans. 

Gator didn’t shut up most of the time, but when he was buried inside of you he could mostly only manage pretty moans. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart. You’re… you’re really workin’ for it, huh?” His words were interrupted by low moans and grunts. “C’mon. Give it to me.”

He let you do most of the work, rocking back against him, making you fuck yourself on his cock. And he looked fucking smug about it too. 

The switch snapped suddenly when he grabbed your hips and fucked you without abandon, skin slapping against skin as he roughly bullied himself inside of you again and again. 

“That’s it. Just lay there and take it, sweetheart.” His voice was breathy and strained. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Fuck! That’s it. Just like that.”

He came suddenly, thrusting deep and hard as he spilled within you. It annoyed you that he looked pretty when he came— his mouth ajar, eyes fluttered shut, his body trembling just slightly. 

And then you were annoyed because he fucking lied. He pulled out after he had ridden the aftershocks with a few shallow thrusts and quickly redressed. 

“You didn’t pull out,” you said, your voice was strained with annoyance and anger as you looked back at him. He was getting dressed, making sure he looked alright. He didn’t even care to get you off. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shrugged, trying to appear unbothered by it all. But you saw the annoyed tick in his jaw, the anger beneath it. Like a rattlesnake all coiled up, ready to strike if you made the wrong move. You were never on equal terms. You were no better than prey. And you should have known better, right?

Annoying, hot tears welled on your lashline, and you prayed to any higher power that he wouldn’t notice as you wiped at your eyes. You stood, doing your best to redress in silence, doing your best to remain small. He slapped a fifty on the desk and you flinched. “Buy some Plan B if you’re that fuckin’ worried about it. Jesus Christ.” He paused as he reached the door. “I’ll tell the manager we got it all sorted out. Isn’t that good enough for ya?”

You stood there, unsatisfied and used, with his cum leaking out of you, and stayed silent. It wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t anything at all. 

You walked out with fifty dollars, streaked mascara, three sets of lingerie you’d throw in the trash, and a newfound desire to get the fuck out of Stark County. And, maybe, some misplaced hope that next time might be different.

[starberry-cupcake]

Welcome back!! I hope you're doing well and, if not, I hope my silly ramblings can make your day somewhat better, like the wildcats used to say: we're all in this together ♥

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

for those of you recently tuning in, this is the tag of all the ramblings

also, I'm officially in the sixth house now, palmolive can't stop me

CHAPTER 46

we're back inside the emperor's bolthole, which is infested

this is what happens when you have a lyctor orgy without the proper protection

gideon is doing her very best to fight the infestation of herald bees swarming and attacking her

she's in harrow's feeble small kitten baby body, so she's dying a lot

I'm gonna try to represent this visually

gideon keeps apologizing to harrow for getting her bits chewed off and her insides pouring out

and puts emphasis on things she wants harrow to remember

"I saw it eat your thumb—these details are important, so keep up with me—and your thumb was back in the next half minute"

"Child, that bee smashed you"

"I touched your intestines, which is usually what, fourth date"

me:

so, gideon takes off harrow's excess bones, which are no use to her, and goes further into the emperor's infested bolthole, where she finds mercygirl

mercygirl thinks gideon is harrow at first and, turns out, she was the one who stabbed her

these lyctors istg

can't trust any of them

mercygirl thinks harrow should be grateful that she stabbed her

and she was aware that harrow had "stuffed the soul of the cavalier in the back of her brain"

NOW WE'RE GONNA GET INTO SOME TERRITORY THAT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY BERSERK, SO BEAR WITH ME

I NEED TO GET MY NOTES BACK FROM MY PREVIOUS RECAPS FOR THIS

she asks what happened with gideon's eyes and, as we have seen in the previous gideon-centric chapter, gideon's eyes are in harrow's face atm, if memory serves

"You're not her—she isn't driving you—but you have her eyes. Why? When they showed me your corpse I didn't think to check the eyes"

"I thought I knew what you were, though I didn't want to believe it..."

now listen, we're starting to tie some loose ends and some of those loose ends are linked very closely to my previous theories

I have been considering the Commander Wake is Gideon's Mom and Has a Personal Connection To Gideon The First and Is The One Connected With The Harrow Notes In Canaan AU for a while now

I need to link the specific recaps where I said this because I need to be transparent about where my brain was at

Evidence A, Evidence B, Evidence C, Evidence D

there's probably more but those are pretty clear

I swear to god if I was right about this I'm gonna screencap my own recap and put it here when the time comes

I've been marinating this one for months

I actually forgot how much of that I had written down in the recaps until I re-read them

mercygirl says that she thought the commander was a bad girl workaholic who put business before family, that she made her "the dolls" and she must have "played silly buggers with the emission" and that "gideon was on her tail"

"And then Gideon ruined everything. Then the commander ruined everything. Then you ruined everything. This could have been over eighteen years ago"

apparently gideon the first was "obsessed" with the commander, which accounts for some of the notes harrow read

I'LL GET BACK TO THAT WHEN WE GET TO THE SLEEPER, MY THEORIES CONTINUE

mercygirl starts calling gideon all sorts of names, including mutant, and keeps being bothered about her eyes

"Lipochrome. Recessive. You are the evidence. He lied to us...and you are all the proof I needed" "Cytherea would have known as soon as she looked at you"

is gideon the first gideon's dad??????? I mean, I always though he might have Something with the mom but my money was on gideon being made through science rather than Traditional Means

I mean, having lyctor genes in some way would account for gideon being a demigod, something I said with those words when I was reading gideon

also, remember when not!dulcinea told gideon she was prettier than the other gideon?? because I've never forgotten

mercygirl confirms that gideon the first was sent to kill gideon's mom

who, according to mercygirl, would have hated to be called a mom

mamá luchona intensifies

all of which aligns with my theory very nicely so far

she calls gideon more names, including "abomination, you heresy, you failed ambition nineteen years too late"

gideon reacts not wanting mercygirl to touch her instinctively

man, my theories are RIGHT THERE to be fully connected I'm BITING THE DESK

but there's no time for any more talk because mercygirl is trying to kill gideon in harrow's body

but she is stopped

she is shot

by not!dulcinea

but I don't think this is not!dulcinea, I previously mentioned her maybe being used by someone, not sure if it's possession or being used or what's going on but I don't think this is her

I thought about gideon the first being the one to do it but if he wanted harrow dead, I'm not sure he'd save gideon now

not!dulcinea says "with a tone that wasn't" hers: "goodbye"

gideon ends the chapter with "what the fuck is going on?"

CHAPTER 47

we're back at canaan au and it's time to perform an exorcism

harrow has a new note

I've been connecting those notes to gideon's mom possibly commander wake (as linked above)

the latest note continues to add to my theory

"end of the line. falling. oxygen can't last the distance and won't redirect power from the payload. instead I will make you watch every moment as I get the last privilege you cannot enjoy you bygone son of a bitch. I hope you're both as sorry as I am."

I still think this is gideon's mom because that's how she died, I mean, she got to the ninth in a suit without air and gideon still had some, allegedly

I've been thinking that one of the two people involved in the situationship triangle described in the notes was gideon the first, and that maybe the other was dr reverend emperor john

he's the most likely to be a bygone son of a bitch, so maybe I'm right

so, if harrow connects the notes with the spirit that's haunting her

and I'm connecting them to gideon's mom....

what if it's her that's haunting harrow?????

I mean, Waker

I NEED TO STOP GETTING INTO THEORY TANGENTS

anyway, all of the ghoulie ghostie friends are getting together for a sleepover exorcism

I didn't use this when I should have, back when the different aus were going by, but here it is

real!dulcinea says "Pal always said I'd be the death of him. And I was..."

he died being a weenie but he's not all the way dead, so it's fine

harrow questions why everyone wants to help her but everyone's totally fine with all this, for different reasons

real!dulcinea is "horny for revenge" (that's a tshirt for the seventh girlies right there)

protozoa is there because duty is his full personality

abby is really grateful to be asked to help (she also really likes tombs, very lara croft of her)

magnus loves his wife

ortus wants a redemption arc and now has a polycule

martita is behaving better than judith

abby asks harrow if there's anything she can remember from the slasher waker sleeper to try to pinpoint who tf it is

there's a suit, blood, a gun and gideon's sword, which is the only thing harrowcita recognizes and doesn't know where it comes from

my money is on gideon's mom, commander wake, probably also the woman in the shuttle poster that harrow saw but didn't recognize back when she met camilla

I'M PUTTING MORE CHIPS IN MY BETS EVEN IF I GET NO MORE INFO RN

harrow is very interested in how abby and magnus make it work as a married couple who are also a necro and a cav

I wonder why she's so interested

anyway, everything goes to shit on the exorcism

like, it goes really, really badly

group project off the rails bad

I mean, they didn't even have blood

apparently the spirit is also tethered to an object out there (the sword??????? possibly?????)

and she (she's a SHE) is pretty much invincible and shooting everyone and performing parkour while she's at it

harrow says camilla would be impressed, which is the highest praise

the sleeper waker slasher potentially gideon's mom (but not sure because it hasn't been confirmed yet) calls harrow by her name, but in a way that sounds like she's never said it before

she says it like a curse, which maybe means she knows, to some degree, how harrow was made????

she's basically doing whatever she wants over here, shooting ghosts, punching ghosts, throwing them around, regenerating, not bleeding, pulling guns out of thin air

I mean, ok, we got it, calm down lady

where was this energy when it was time to kill the emperor

she says there's "no magic" there and that "she's been doing this for years"

she wants harrow, so she can kill her and use her body to "finish it"

WHICH MAYBE MEANS KILLING THE EMPEROR???

OH MAN I DO WANT THAT TO HAPPEN

BUT NOT AT THE COST OF HARROW

also, mrs potentially gideon's mom, even if harrow dies, there's also gideon in the body right now so, it's a bit crowded atm

maybe find another way to kill the emperor

use not!dulcinea instead, if you can get the current tenant to leave

the chapter ends with: "ortus cleared his throat"

MAN, I HOPE HE DROPS SOME POETRY LINES, WE SURELY NEED THAT

and that's it for today!!!!!things are certainly heating up in the emperor's bolthole!!!! see you soon for the next installment, fingers crossed for my theories!!!

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 5 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): homophobia is still a theme. another dead relative mentioned. smoking cigarettes.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 6

You'd decided to do nothing about Cady's infiltration for now. Or, well, Regina had told you she'd figure it out and given firm instruction to not do anything.

You didn't exactly like that. Then again, you didn't have any better ideas. Obviously, you wanted her to not be around Regina. It was wrong that she was friends with her under the pretence that she was looking for reasons to stab her in the back. Then again, she didn't need reasons. Regina had provided plenty already.

As September dragged along and eventually turned to October, it felt as if day by day your mind split into an exponentially growing number of pieces. Your desire to protect Regina battled with the fact that she had been wrong so many times, had really hurt people. Didn't they deserve some reparation? Didn't Regina deserve forgiveness? Was any of that for you to decide?

You would have to pick a side and make your stance known, eventually. You'd have to plant your feet firmly on the territory you really believed in. Only, you dreaded that you didn't have as much agency as you'd have liked.

Were you weak or strong for always sticking by someone? What would become of you if you didn't stand up for what you thought was right and wrong? Where was the line?

You didn't want to side with Janis and her lackeys. The more you looked at it, the parallel between them—Janis and Regina—started to become obvious. Janis and Regina weren't that different at all.

What did you even want? What could you want? You didn't have answers to those questions.

The weather was getting colder, so you'd shuffled your wardrobe quite a bit. Short-sleeved flannels and tee shirts were replaced by cotton undershirts and grandpa sweaters. Literal grandpa sweaters. You'd gotten the majority of them from your grandfather's closet, which he had left for you in his will. It was a joke you two had shared, that you looked better in his clothes than he did.

Regina certainly didn't think so.

"Those sweaters are fucking ugly." She put it bluntly, chewing on some gum as she surfed channels on your TV. She'd taken to spending a lot of time at yours recently. You guessed it had to do with her dad being home and her friends no longer being trustworthy.

"They were my gramps'." You pouted and slumped onto the couch next to her. Since your first sleepover, the distance between your bodies had gotten smaller each time. Your knees almost touched.

"The emotional baggage makes them even frumpier." She glanced at you before looking back at the TV. "You'd be better off framing them."

"I like them, Reg." You settled back and turned your attention to the screen as well. "I don't tell you what to wear."

"If you did we wouldn't be friends." She quipped, finally settling on just shutting the thing off. "Now, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." You didn't want to talk about it. You doubted you could talk about something like that and both remain calm. You hated shouting. It always made you cry, no matter the situation. You could've been the angriest you'd ever been, not sad at all, and still cry.

"Fine. Be stubborn." She huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm going to Aaron's Halloween Party."

"Are you?" You turned and blinked at her. "Cool, I guess."

"You know how everybody, like, dresses sexy? It's like the whole point of Halloween, yeah? Cady's from Kenya. She doesn't know that. She thinks Halloween's supposed to be scary."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Ugh, for kids it is. We're practically adults. Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it." Regina recited as if from a book. "Karen's words."

"She's very wise, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is." Regina mused.

"You ever told her that?"

"No, she'd get a big head."

"Karen Shetty would get a big head." You said, disbelieving.

"They want what I have so bad," Regina said. "I have to keep them on their toes."

"Are they even your friends? Or do you keep them close to control them?" You sat up straighter, some dots connecting. "Is that why you got Cady to join you? Because she was too pretty to go unchecked?"

"So you think she's pretty." Regina shifted closer, your knees really touching now. You tried to contain your excitement.

"I feel that's pretty obvious." You leaned in also, almost without noticing yourself. She was like a magnet.

"She had potential. If she were to realize it, who knows what she would've gotten up to."

"You made her realize that. That's a self-fulfilling prophecy if I've ever heard one."

"What do you know about prophecies?"

"I know that if I scoped a threat, I wouldn't make them stronger." You licked your lips nervously. "Keeping an eye on her is one thing, but you've made her an enemy."

"Fine, sure, whatever. Now, I'm gonna bring her down. She's gonna humiliate herself by showing up to the party all scary-looking, and then I'm gonna kiss Aaron Samuels." She grinned and blew a bubble. The thin pink of the bubblegum complimented her eyes.

"Why? To make her jealous? Because she wants something you had?"

"To establish dominance."

"I dunno, Reg." You sighed, rubbing a hand down your face. "You're making an enemy."

"It's what I do best, jorts. Just watch." She got up and headed for the kitchen. Hated to see her leave, loved to watch her go.

So, you watched. You watched her hatch her plans, how she deliberately kept Karen from talking to Cady about high school Halloween party etiquette, which seemed like a challenging task indeed, and how her leash on Gretchen tightened to an impossible degree.

You sat alone in the computer room the night of the party, trying to build a profitable amusement park and failing miserably. Your heart wasn't in it. Not even gaming could take your mind off of Regina.

She was probably kissing Aaron Samuels right now. Right now, their lips were sealed together in a nasty French kiss that surely repulsed anybody close enough to hear the slurping and suckling that came from the union. Aaron was probably on her, touching her everywhere he could get his grubby paws, shamelessly licking at the roof of her mouth like a dog.

While the thought of the jock being a bad kisser soothed you somewhat, it didn't cure the clenching in your chest. Fuck, it was stupid that this hurt you. It wasn't even real, she was using him to get to Cady, but the mere thought of them like that made you want to puke.

You watched the chaos unfold the next morning. At lunch, Janis herded you to their table near the back. You were barely listening, too busy glowering in the general direction of the jock table. Cady was officially on board now, you were told. Regina had officially gone too far for her and now their real plans could commence.

"Hey, dude, are you even listening?" Janis punched you on the shoulder. You glared and punched back.

"No. Yes, I- what did you say? Something about Homecoming."

"Yes!" Janis practically hissed, looking a little manic. You looked at Damien, who was eyeing you suspiciously. "We're spraying water on her when she's inevitably crowned Homecoming queen. Cady's also replacing her moisturizer with lard. Can you think of anything?"

What, you were supposed to contribute to bringing Regina down? She was kidding, right? She continued to stare holes in you.

"Uh..." You swallowed. "I'm not really an ideas guy. I can help in other ways?" You squeaked, desperately wanting out of this whole thing.

"Ugh, you're boring." Janis groaned, slumping against Damien.

"Good talk." You said hastily as you got up. "I'm going to smoke a cigarette now." So acutely uncomfortable, you talked like a robot.

"Can you gimme one?" Janis perked up.

"No, she can't." Damien cast a look at Janis. "We agreed, remember? Smoking only at the garage."

You took that opportunity to skedaddle. They bickered like an old married couple. Though there was no romantic chemistry between them, they were obviously a solid duo.

Janis didn't seem so bitter when she was with Damien. Sure, now that they were planning revenge their focus was on Regina, but they often strayed off track. Why couldn't she just let go? She was clearly doing better now.

As you rounded the building and made it across the lawn towards the bleachers, you spotted a couple making out. The boy had the girl pinned to the wall. You were quite far away and you could hear their lips smacking.

You didn't want to look too close, because gross, but the varsity jacket and pink ensemble were hard to ignore.

You gritted your teeth and pulled out the pack of Marlboros you had on hand. Regina and Aaron fucking Samuels. You lit up and inhaled before you were even properly concealed under the bleachers.

God, you were such a hypocrite. If you weren't over what Regina did to you in middle school, then why should she be? She'd had it worse, too. You couldn't even imagine the consequences of something like that.

If people knew you liked girls, it'd be over. Even if it was sort of like an open secret, because nobody ever asked you about boys or stuff like that, to have it confirmed would ruin you beyond repair.

If people knew you liked Regina, it'd be even worse.

"Hey, why're you sulking under there?"

"Regina, I'm not in the mood to talk."

"Uh, grumpy much?"

"Leave me alone."

You leaned your head back against the steel, looking up at Regina as she stood over you. She was in all pink. A pink, fuzzy sweater, white skinnies, and Uggs. You had a blue, old Carhartt jacket, denim jeans and scuffed Converse.

You matched with her way better than Aaron. You could probably kiss better too. Not that you'd had any practice. But you'd at least have the sense to not slobber all over the one you were kissing.

Unless Regina liked sloppy kisses. As if you'd get to find out.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

I like you. I like you too much and it's hard to think. I can't tell wrong from right.

"It's nothing." You took another drag. "Janis and Damien are plotting. It just makes me mad." Not entirely untrue. You were lying by omission, though.

"What kinda plots?"

You hesitated. How could you? "Nothing concrete yet." Now you were really lying. It sunk like a stone down your gullet, hitting your heart on the way down, and dropped heavily into your stomach. It nearly punched a hole clean through.

"Keep me updated." She lingered and you kept looking at her. What would she look like as Homecoming queen, soaked down to her bones up on a stage? What would she look like after smearing lard on her face?

Not ethereal in the sunlight like this, probably. Though you reckoned ruined mascara and pimples wouldn't do anything to shake off this stupid crush.

"For sure." You just nodded and looked down. You couldn't keep your eyes on her when guilt gnawed at your insides.

"Can I have one?" She hopped over your legs and sat down on the grass next to you.

"A cigarette?" You baulked. "A cigarette for Regina George?"

"Yes, you doof." She laughed and reached for your pockets. "Where's the pack?" She kept patting down your body. Your heart sped up, your palms sweated, and a stupid grin split your face.

"Only one." You turned your face as stern as you could make it. "I'm not ruining your beautiful singing voice."

"You think my voice is beautiful?" When she asked questions like that and looked so small waiting for your answer, you didn't quite know what to do with yourself.

"Yeah," You breathed, sounding a little too sincere, too reverent. "You sang at the talent show in middle school that one year. I think it was a Celine Dion song? Captivating."

"That was so embarrassing. I had such shit breath control." She rested her hand on your thigh, casually, and the other behind your back. Your faces were so close. "C'mon, jorts. Now."

"Nobody complained. Everybody loved it." You reached into your pocket and handed her a cig. She put it between her lips and looked at you expectantly.

If you'd been feeling bold, you would've touched the tip of your lit one to hers. Yours was more than halfway done, so you'd have gotten real close. Maybe in your dreams.

You flicked the lighter to life and held the fire for her. "Suck. Yup, you got it."

She inhaled and let the smoke out of her mouth. You took a drag to keep from laughing. "When you've got the smoke in your mouth, inhale it."

She did as you told and started coughing violently. This time, you couldn't keep the laughter in. She shoved you and you laughed harder.

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[ellieputellas]

give me a minute | part two of "if you’d have stuck around"

give me a minute, kiss me again, i'll say goodbye to cloudy blue skies i'd trade all i've got in my name for you instead of this pain — "give me a minute" by lizzy mcalpine

part one | part two | part three

🏷️: @simp4panos @moonystoes

The video went live, and it racked up views within hours. Comments poured in, with fans loving the new content and even new people from your own follower base growing interested in the content. You hadn’t expected it to take off so quickly, but the sudden popularity of the video felt satisfying. 

Soon, the video was the most viewed on your company's Youtube and TikTok. You wondered why it must have blown up; it felt like such generic fluff but a lot of people seemed to like it. 

The popularity of the video led to talks in your office of pursuing more sports content. You usually did pieces with celebrities, actors, influencers but maybe expanding to somewhat newer territories would be a great way to compete with other media companies.

Aside from discussing the popularity of the video, a bunch of your younger colleagues were smitten by Elisa. The effortless and nonchalant French vibe seemed to be all the rage with your officemates, much to your annoyance.

You were getting asked left and right about her by your younger co-workers. You tried not to seem annoyed as to not raise suspicion but frankly you were over it. You kinda liked it better when all the baby gays in your office were preoccupied with Emma D'arcy or Paige Bueckers. Hell, you preferred that shortlived era when everyone crushed on your girlfriend after she got a haircut. 

But no, instead, all anyone could talk was Elisa. Even your work friends groupchat was flooded with Tiktok links to edits of your ex-girlfriend. 

God, if you're real, you'd give us a new cute gay intern for these girls to focus on instead. You wished for it on more than one occasion over the past few days.

You were working on a new pitch when the bubbly intern Daisy peered over your cubicle with a cheeky grin on her face. "Y/N..." She said, extending your name in a cutesy manner. 

"Yes, Daisy?" You smiled but gave a cautious eyebrow raise at the younger girl. She had been one of the new staunch Elisa fanatics in your office, even trying to convince Casey to ask her dad to take everyone in the office to go watch the PSG friendlies match tomorrow. "This better be important."

She giggled and blushed. "You have a guest at the lobby."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Is it a delivery?" You paused, thinking that it might be the magazine archives you requested for another thing you were working on. "You can just sign for that, y'know?"

She chuckled again. "No, no, I can't sign for it." She said before making a gesture for you to just come along.

You sighed and stood from your cubicle before following the intern. When you arrived at the lobby, you were met with the sight of the last person you wanted to see. 

"I told you I couldn't sign for it." Daisy commented.

"Oh," I said. 

Elisa stood up from the chairs in your office lobby. She gave you a weak smile before greeting you. "Hey."

You looked at her, clad in her team hoodie and joggers. She had a paper bag with her which you made notice of. You turned to Daisy who was basically as red as a tomato. You sighed.

You stepped towards Elisa. "Uh, what are you doing here?" You said in a hushed voice.

She blinked. She looked a tad nervous and awkward but you figured it might have been because Daisy had been very obviously gawking behind me.  

"I—I know this might be unexpected, but I wanted to drop by and thank you for the interview," she said, extending the gift. "The team…loved it."

You thanked her curtly, hesitantly getting the gift from her. "Do you... wanna talk somewhere more private? In the conference room, maybe?" You asked.

She nodded. You led the way inside your office. Elisa gave a friendly greeting to the intern who looked like she was going to burst in just a moment. You finally made your way to one of the vacant meeting rooms.

You shut the door behind you and the privacy curtains, knowing fully well that your co-workers would very indiscreetly pass multiple times just  to catch a glance of the new office crush.

You two stood awkwardly before you finally gestured for her to sit. She paused before sitting on the chair adjacent to you. 

You glanced down at the paper bag, only catching a glance of what looked like a jersey. "Elisa... why are you here?" It sounded more exasperated and hostile than you intended.

"I already told you." She answered, defensively. "The team's social media engagement blew up after the video and now all the tickets to our friendlies are sold out. The team just wanted to thank you."

You sighed. "I don't think I can take credit for that. Someone else conceptualized that video." You responded, shaking your head. "Besides, why just me? Gina took care of the production. Hell, Casey did even more than I did. All I did was read out a script written by some other person."

Elisa furrowed her eyebrows together, looking confused. "I don't know, okay? You were the one they remembered so you're the one being thanked. Is that so bad?" Her voice raised with annoyance. "God, can't you just say thanks."

You took a deep breath. Suddenly, you were teleported back to the time that you were always arguing like this — raised voices, misunderstanding, hostile tones.

"I'm sorry, I just thought you'd appreciate it." Her voice was more calm.

You nodded. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Thank your teammates for thinking about me." You responded, just wanting to avoid another argument. "What is it anyway?"

Elisa shrugged and her facial expression softened. "Why don't you look?" Her tone had a slight amusement to it. You looked at her and she had a small smile. "I thought of what to get you. Jackie wanted to get you flowers but uh, I think... I know you well enough and you might want this more."

You ignored what she had just said, not wanting to read into it. You lifted up the jersey. It was the Paris Saint-Germain away kit. You hummed. "Thanks?"

She chuckled at your reaction. "Turn it around." She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're so quick to react negatively."

Your eyes widened as you turned it around with your last name on the back and your old number from when you used to play — a five. A wave of nostalgia hit you.

"What?" Your voice was soft as you blinked at the sight of it.

Elisa scooted closer to you. "I had our staff get it done this morning and uh... I know that five is my number now," She started. "But it was yours before it was mine."

She put a careful hand on your knee. "I'm just giving it back to you... if you'd want it." 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the list of the new numbers assigned to each player at your summer camp. "Huh, why am I not five anymore?" You asked yourself in English. "Because I'm five now." A voice behind you said. You turned around to see a taller brunette girl with short hair, wearing a baggy jersey. "You got a new number because five is mine." You scoffed at the girl with a strong French accent. "I was here since last summer? I should have first dibs." You argued, thinking it must have been a mistake. She stepped closer to you, intimidating you with her height. "Well, obviously, I'm a better player so coach gave me first dibs." She smirked. "But I'll give it back to you under one condition."

"What?" You spat out. The smirk grew on the girl's face. "Date me." "No chance."  "Tough luck," She chuckled. "Guess you're stuck with... fifteen? What a shit number."

“Huh.” You murmured, remembering the memory. "Took you long enough to give it back to me."

"Yeah, yeah, to be fair, I wanted to give it back to you when we uh... started dating." She chuckled awkwardly. "But uh, you were done with football then so I might as well keep it."

You couldn't pinpoint what you were feeling at that moment. It was overwhelming — the memories, her proximity to you, her intoxicating scent filling the room, her hand on your knee.

She must have noticed that you were frozen in thought again. She took her hand away from you. "I see you like to overthink still." She joked.

You feigned a chuckle as you put the jersey on your lap, feeling the fabric with your fingers awkwardly.

Elisa, who’d been watching your reaction, cleared her throat. “There’s, uh… something else from me too,” she added, a little nervous. "In the bottom of the bag."

You just looked at her. She gave you a small smile before taking the paper bag from the table and sticking her hand in. She reached into something small — small enough to fit in her palm without you seeing what it was. 

Elisa pulled out a small, battered keychain — a football charm with a lucky four leaf clover on it. The steel was scuffed and dirty but it looked almost like it did years ago.

"Just another thing I want to give back to you," Elisa said. She dangled it in front for you to take. You stuck your hand out and let her place it gently on your palm. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Elisa," You called out to the French girl after a winning scrimmage. You had scored a goal in that game and were an essential part of the defense line.  On the other hand, Elisa was subbed off early in the game after making a few crucial mistakes. It left her pissed off and moody so much so that even when your team won, she didn't bother to huddle with your team and celebrate. "You fucking bad sport," You commented before giving her a punch on the shoulder. "You think you could just bail without congratulating me for being the player of the match?" She didn't seem amused by your teasing. "Cool it, fifteen. It was a scrimmage." She warned, using the nickname she gave you. "Besides, I'm not in the mood." Your rolled your eyes at her immaturity. "Are you seriously not happy for me, huh?" She took a deep breath. Her eyes which had been previously dodging your gaze finally met yours.  "Fine, you did really well." She acquiesced. "I'm just jealous actually. I didn't have my head in the game, you know? Not even for the past few marches. But you're doing... really good. I loved watching you play. You're getting even better than I am." She pinched your cheek playfully and you swatted her arm away with a chuckle. You hummed as you batted your eyelashes at her. "You really have a crush on me, De Almeida." Her smile grew. "I used to... but not after I learned how cocky and arrogant you are."  You rolled your eyes. "Y'know what, I think I played really good cause of what I got at the supermarket this morning." You chuckled before swinging your backpack to your front, struggling to unhook the football keychain you got. "They had some promotional event where you could win a trip to Barcelona, a signed jersey, an umbrella, all that. But, I won this. The cashier said it was a lucky charm." You showed her the steel keychain. "It's not a weekend off to Spain but hey, it really must be lucky." You chuckled. You looked at Elisa and noticed that she had a soft gaze fixed on you with a slight smile. Her brown eyes seemed even lighter as she looked at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. "What?" She rolled her eyes. "You're such a gullible idiot." She teased as she touched your keychain. "This is just a corny keychain from the supermarket." You playfully pushed her again, making her laugh. She bit her lip, still looking amused at you. "Don't be mean." You told her off. "But if you feel that way, then so be it. I was supposed to give it to you but since you're such an ass..." Her eyes widened in instant regret. "No, no, I want it." She reached for the keychain but you swung your arm behind you so she wouldn't catch it. She grappled with you for the keychain, desperately trying to get it from you. In the process, her hand found its way to the small of your back, holding you in place to prevent you from further squirming. You paused and felt shocked at the sudden touch and proximity, causing you to lose focus on keeping the keychain away from Elisa. "Aha!" She exclaimed as she grabbed the keychain from you. "Now, I'm the lucky one." You sighed. "Okay, fine, you need it more anyway." You teased, under your breath. You expected a retort from the French girl but instead, you two fell silent and Elisa still had her hand on your back. You looked up at the girl. "What?" Her brown eyes were soft and they flickered from your eyes to your lips. "Don't worry, fifteen." She said in a hushed voice. "I'll trade you something for it." "It better be worth it cause that keychain is priceless." You said teasingly. "I hope you think it is," She said nervously before slowly leaning into you. You could see her hesitating, pausing a bit to gauge your reaction. You stayed steady and fluttered your eyes close as she finally closed the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

Your fingers stilled as you stared at it. You were at a disbelief as to why Elisa even kept such a cheap keychain. You touched the chain part, noticing that it was noticeably newer and made of a different metal. 

Elisa must have noticed. "I had to get the chain changed at a jeweler this morning." She clarified. "It's gotten pretty flimsy over the years and it broke before I came here."

You stayed silent. She tried to lighten the mood by telling you how it broke. "It's funny actually... Before I came here, my car had some issues so I naturally had to take the taxi and my driver was so, so talkative. I really didn't care until he started talking about football."

"He started talking shit about the PSG men's team, which I found funny." She chuckled, pausing to look at you for a reaction. "Anyway, when he dropped me off at the airport and helped with my bags, he noticed I was wearing a PSG jacket and my bag tag had the PSG logo."

You looked at her, waiting for her to finish her story. "So, he carefully asks me if I was a fan, looking regretful at what he said and I said 'non... je suis l'un des joueurs.'" (No, I'm one of the players.)

You gave her a soft chuckle. She was beaming as she continued the story. "I just watched him look like this," She paused to make a shocked face with her jaw open and eyes wide. "And then he said... 'désolé, monsieur, je n'aurais pas deviné... je pensais que vous étiez une fille.'" (Sorry, sir. I thought you were a girl.)

You shook your head and chuckled. "So he thought you were part of the men's team."

She nodded, looking amused. "Yeah, supposedly." She sighed. "But anyway, as he was driving away, I noticed that the football charm on the keychain was gone. It was just the round part and the flimsy chain. So, I panicked."

"I feel like it was such a dumbass move to do in the airport but I left my luggage there at the drop-off to chase after the taxi," She said with a big smile on her face, recalling the incident. "It was like I was in a TV show running after a taxi and shouting but anyway, after probably four minutes of sprinting, I caught up to the taxi and rummaged the backseat and found the keychain lodged somewhere between the cushions."

She shook her head at the memory. "I thanked the taxi man and he looked incredibly annoyed, making him stop in the middle of a busy road. He started calling me crazy and he pointed at me and shouted 'Tu n'es pas PSG; tu es une fille!'" (You are not PSG; you are a girl!)

She laughed at her own story and you gave a weak smile. You started piecing her story together, recalling the shoot you had the other day with the other PSG girls. "So... you were late to the airport?" You clarified.

She nodded. "Yeah, my manager got so pissed at me for it too."

You exhaled, pausing for a moment. "I thought it was because you left your passport." You looked up at her.

Elisa realized her slip-up and shrugged. "I couldn't tell them I was late because I chased after a taxi over a keychain." 

Suddenly, you two fell silent again. You looked at the scuffed keychain once more. It was so worn down and dated. You couldn't understand why Elisa would keep it after all of these years. 

"When I gave you this keychain, you called me a gullible idiot for thinking it was a lucky charm." You recalled and gave a small chuckle. "Yet you kept it..."

Elisa ran a hand through her hair, realizing she had revealed more than she wanted to. "Well, I had it in my first game with PSG and we won. The times I forgot it at home, we lost miserably. I don't know. It's silly but yeah... I kept it."

You hummed and nodded. "You do know I didn't actually believe it was lucky back then..." You clarified. "I only said it to make you feel better about being benched."

She nodded. "I know." She sighed. "But the lucky aspect.... it's not the only reason why I kept it."

Again, there awkward and heavy energy filled the air. You ran your thumb through the metal, feeling the texture of the keychain against your  finger. You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know what to think. 

You knew what Elisa was trying to say but it was hard for you to make sense of it. She never made an effort to contact you after you broke up. You two haven't seen each other in years... yet here she was practically digging up the bones of your relationship which you have worked so hard to bury. 

Elisa was the first to break the tension. She put her hand over yours, gently running her thumb against your skin in the same way you were touching the keychain just now. You avoided looking at her but you could tell thay her brown eyes were fixed on you.

"I'm sorry..." She started with an almost undetectable shake in her voice. "I'm sorry I never reached out to you. I'm sorry that I'm bringing it all up now. And, I'm sorry... for what happened to us."

Your gaze stayed fixed on the table, afraid of what might transpire if you had looked at her face.

"I just..." She paused. "Je pense à toi tout le temps....et je regrette tout." (I think about you a lot still... and I regret everything.)

Your heart was beating fast and you've grown increasingly emotional. You just didn't know which emotions were there as they had tangled with each other inside of you. Elisa was still brushing her thumb against your hand and it felt like too much at the moment. It felt... wrong.

"It's been five years," You didn't know why you said it. You felt like the words just slipped right out of your mouth.

Elisa nodded. "Yeah, I shouldn't have let it take this long." She muttered under her breath. "I just had no way of telling if there'd be another chance for us and every day that passed just made it feel more and more impossible... but then I saw you. It just felt like a sign, you know."

You finally had it in you to look up at her. You nearly gave in when you saw her with her beautiful face and those warm eyes on you. But you shook your head. 

"You don't know me anymore," You said softly, trying to keep composure. "And, I don't know you."

Elisa sighed deeply but you could tell she understood what you meant. You were no longer young, in college, and sharing a small dorm with tiny, pushed-together single beds.

She was a full-blown football superstar and you were this writer with an established life here. Sure, a lot of your tiny quirks and habits stayed the same but you could just tell that time has changed you two so much.

"I know, and it's better now." She said, leaving you confused. "We got what we always wanted in our lives and now, we can... give us a chance."

You let our a sarcastic chuckle. 

"It sounds corny, I know." She rolled her eyes at her own statement. "But I mean it... why else would we have met again this way?"

Silence befell the two of you for the nth time. It just was too much for you to process quickly. You were suddenly forced back into the same situation you were years ago.

"Elisa... where do you see yourself in five years?" You repeated the same question you asked exactly five years ago. The very question you asked that caused you two to fall apart.

You looked up and her face just fell. It was her turn to be speechless. You let out another dry chuckle as you quickly wiped off your moist eyes. 

"Five years ago, you said you'd be in a major club and playing the Olympics and travelling the world." You reminded her. "And you got everything you asked for."

You paused and cleared your throat to avoid your voice from cracking. "I wasn't part of your dreams five years ago..." You nodded. "And for the past five years, I worked on accepting that."

She looked at you with pleading eyes but she stayed silent. You sighed shakily. "You don't get to undo the past five years just like that."

A part of you felt broken; you felt like you were still that same girl five years ago crying over never being a priority to her girlfriend. If past you knew about what you chose to say now, she'd be ripping her hair out.

Surely, you'd prefer it, right? Your dream job with your dream girl who also achieved all her dreams. A chance to be together and still have it all. It seemed like the ideal scenario.

But it wasn't that simple.

You made peace with your break-up. You built this life that you had now brick-by-brick. Sure, you got a bit lucky with getting a girlfriend who was basically a media nepo baby. But you still worked your ass off to get everything you wanted. There was still so much more for you to do... and you just knew you couldn't do that if you were with Elisa.

"What am I supposed to do, Elisa?" You asked. "Quit my job? Leave my girlfriend? Abandon my life, my friends, my family and go back to Paris so I can be your football WAG?"

She looked annoyed. "I'm not asking you to do all that. I just... want another chance, okay?" 

"Did you even think this through? What would you do if I agreed to give you a chance?" Your voice started to get louder. "I'll just go end things with my girlfriend — whose dad, by the way, is my boss — and just date you? What if you realized I'm not the same as I was before? Then, I would have lost everything while you still get to keep being PSG's star defender, Elisa de Almeida."

Elisa grew frustrated but you knew her words were making sense to her. "I didn't think it would be so offensive to tell you that I still care about you after all these years." She raised her voice. "You're acting like I'm wrong because I still love you."

You were shocked but you tried not to show that you were taken aback by her declaration. Elisa sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "There... I still love you." She repeated it. "I just wanted to remind you that a long time ago, you loved me too."

You looked at the keychain and the jersey and felt your heart twist in pain. Part of you loved hearing Elisa say that she still loved you after all these years but the logical, more mature side of you knew that she was being selfish, naive, and immature. She may have changed a lot career-wise but she was still the same selfish and immature Elisa she was five years ago.

You took a deep sigh, feeling a bit shaken up. You avoided looking at Elisa. "I think you should leave."

Elisa said your name and tried to reach out to you to touch your hand again but you shook your head. "Please just leave."

Elisa paused. From your peripheral vision, you could see her contemplating. You knew that as much as she wanted to stay and convince you, she had a game in San Diego to attend to.

For a second, you thought she'd ditch the game — some desperate attempt to beg for you back. If that happened, you wondered if you would have given her a chance. After all, that would have shown you that she was finally prioritizing your relationship (or in this case, a shot at a relationship again) — something she never did when you were together. You were certain that you wouldn't have given in that easily... but deep inside, you knew it would have changed a lot of things. 

But you weren't given that dilemma. 

Elisa stood up. She paused to take a breath before leaving you in that meeting room alone. You didn't bother to lift your head when she left. You just let your head hang low and let the tears fall.

a/n: i didn't proofread so pls lmk if there are any mistakes! i write pretty quick but the last chapter might take longer! hopefully, i can finish by this weekend hehe lmk if u wanna be added to tags

[germhammy]

“Christmas Aftermath”

Enid: I can’t believe the food last night. Everything was so delicious!

Wednesday: do you always require that much protein before wolfing out?

Enid: not really. But it helps. I was so touched that your mom had an entire roast prepared extra rare just for me! The medium rare roast would have been just fine. She didn’t have to go through the trouble

Wednesday: it wasn’t any trouble.

Enid: my favorite way of red meat cooking is medium rare. Except before wolfing out. Then extra rare is the best.

Wednesday: I look forward to taking you for Kobe beef on Friday. We will be taking the train into New York. We can do some shopping if you like.

Enid: my mom will be so jealous. She always complains about how expensive it is. Even Evan has asked. Just once?

Wednesday: I do not blame her actually. You have five brothers?

Enid: six actually.

Wednesday: nine people is quite a lot to dine on Kobe beef. Even we only go sparingly. It’s usually six of us.

Enid: we rarely go out to eat.

Wednesday: tonight we will go to the homeless shelter to provide help with the food service. I usually play my cello. My father fences with foam swords with the children

Enid: wow. Do you do that every year?

Wednesday: yes. My mother and Grandmama prepare a large cauldron of stew. When my Aunt Ophelia and Granny are here they help with arts and crafts

Enid: that’s really cool!

Wednesday: perhaps you could help out painting nails.

Enid: I could

Wednesday: tomorrow you are watching the Devils game with Lucas, correct?

Enid: excuse me? The Sharks game.

Wednesday: you are in New Jersey. This is New Jersey Devils territory

Enid: do you even watch hockey?

Wednesday: not as much as my brother. But we are Devils fans.

Enid: Will you be watching with me?

Wednesday: I will be leaving you with Pugsley. I will take advantage of the time to devote to my writing

Thing tapped to draw attention to Xavier’s phone

Thing: he is texting. He’s asking if you would like to join him in New York to watch the ball drop in Times Square

Wednesday signed and picked up the phone

-good morning gorgeous! Say, my dad and I will be in New York for New Years Eve! Care to join me in NYC to watch the ball drop?

-absolutely not. I do not even watch it on the television. Much less in person

-oh come on! It’s a once in a lifetime experience!

-not for me. I would much rather spend my New Year’s Eve in my backyard huddled around a fire with my family telling ghost stories and roasting things

-sounds boring

-truly you have not lived if you have not roasted food over a raging fire

-very funny. Don’t tell me. It’s like a cremation right? Or it’s just s’mores

-roasted apples with butter and cinnamon sugar, roasted vegetables, and our family favorite, elote

-still sounds boring. Come on! What’s better than partying all night I. times Square?

-literally anything? I would not be able to withstand the noise. The crowd. The lights. It is not for me. You enjoy your party. I will enjoy my quiet time with my family

Thing: how does he not understand?

Wednesday: I do not know, Thing. Oh. I did not put this out. I hid it from you and then forgot where I hid it until we were at breakfast.

Wednesday took out a neatly wrapped present and placed it on the floor in the middle of her room. She sat down in front of it placing Thing on the box

Wednesday: Enid. Come sit. Help Thing open his present since I imagine you will not only be helping him use it but he will allow you to use it as well.

When opened, Thing was happy. Enid squealed. It was a beautiful wooden bowl filled with essential oils, soft towels, and neroli bergamot hand lotion. Thing gave Wednesday a finger heart and lifted his pinky for Wednesday. She linked her pinky.

Thing: thank you very much, Wednesday

[herefortheships]

If anything, this could be a good idea for a fanfic.

I was thinking earlier, what could they do with Astrid for Beetlejuice 3? There are many possibilities for her character. She doesn't have to be reduced to moody teenager angry at her mom, especially now that her issues with Lydia were resolved after Beetlejuice 2. There's also the fact that now she knows there truly is an afterlife and that her dad is okay. She also now has the ability to see ghosts and interact with them, so there's a lot for Astrid to get to know about herself and her new abilities.

And that's what I'm getting at. She now has to get used to her newfound ability to interact with the dead. For a girl who was skeptical of ghosts only days before she discovered all of this, it won't be too easy to get used to her new life. Lucky for her, she has her mother; Lydia might not have had anybody to help her. Sure, she had the Maitlands, but she had no psychic, living person to teach her how to handle her ability, and we can see how a life of being able to see and talk to ghosts did take a toll on Lydia's mental heath. Astrid has Lydia to help her, but, and here's where we go into head-canon speculation territory: what if Astrid's abilities to interact with the world of the dead go beyond Lydia's? What if she feels alone with her new powers, realizing her mom can't help her? Heck, what if Lydia herself realizes she can't really help Astrid? You guessed it: enter Betelgeuse.

I can see Astrid being the one to call him, though, in this story idea. Here's a good reason to summon him: he might be the only one Astrid can turn to for help now. As I've said probably too many times already in this blog, Astrid doesn't really know Betelgeuse yet. She only knows that her mom says he's bad news, that he's crazy about her mom, and that he saved her life. That's it. She doesn't really have evidence of him being really bad news (if we discount the influencers lol). He did puppeteer her into a dance around the wedding cake, but, is there anything truly harmless in that? He just put on a show for the wedding. This only served to show how scary powerful he truly is.

Astrid might come to the conclusion that she will need someone else to help her navigate this new life with what she can only describe as supernatural powers, and Betelgeuse might be the only one who can really help her. Maybe Lydia and her even get into an argument over something Astrid realized she could do with these abilities she gained not only through her bloodline, but also through having died and then returned to life in the Netherworld (we're in speculation territory here, so let's go crazy). Maybe what Astrid discovered she could do now, which scared Lydia, was the ability to control others just like Betelgeuse and the Maitlands and likely other ghosts can do.

So Astrid goes to someone she knows will help her navigate all this, and that is Betelgeuse. Here's where the writers can get creative. I love the suggestion about Betelgeuse helping Astrid if she helps him win Lydia's heart. That'd be fun to watch and also a plausible storyline if the screenwriters sit down to think a little. They just have to come up with the antagonistic force, and that one's pretty easy too. It could be Delores again, or it could be a threat from the world of the living. OR better yet: a threat from the Netherworld coming after Astrid because of her Supernatural abilities. They just have to get creative. But this idea for Astrid I really like, tbh; her figuring out she will need more help than what her mom can give her. Alternatively, here's also where they can bring in Lydia's mom. Lydia could think her mom has the answers to everything about their ghost-seeing powers. And I really like the idea of Astrid having gained something more from her brief ordeal in the Netherworld. I've seen a few fans suggest this one about Astrid’s powers here. (Reply so I can tag you if this was you; I believe they mentioned Astrid having powers being something similar to Danny Phantom but not quite. I gotta scroll through my blog to find it.)

[whateverisbeautiful]

What would you want to see in a TOWL season 2?

Ooh definitely had fun thinking about this question. 😊 Thank you for asking! First, I love that Danai and Andy have expressed the importance of returning only if the story they tell next feels necessary and irresistible. With a franchise that’s been making content for almost 15 years now, it’s tough to avoid doing something that feels repetitive or superfluous. But it’s certainly not impossible. And if anyone can find the right future story to tell for Richonne it’s the Andy, Danai, and Scott band. I wrote out the rest of my thoughts and what I would want to see in season 2 right below. 💗⬇️

Part of why TOWL worked so well is because the story truly did feel necessary. With how Rick and Michonne left TWD, their story was unfinished, and so TOWL came to give such deserving characters a deserving conclusion.

And TOWL felt fresh because it put Rick and Michonne in situations we had never seen them in before. We’d never seen Rick go that long without family and naturally, the damage from that took a serious toll on him. And we’d never really seen Michonne have to try and downplay the competent woman she is to survive in a new territory. We also had never seen Rick and Michonne have this much conflict between them, which made their beautiful reconciliation all the more moving and rewarding.

The Ones Who Live also remembered that one of the most enticing aspects of the golden era of TWD was interpersonal conflict and relationships. So making Rick and Michonne’s incredible, compelling, and authentic relationship the driving force of the plot was great and it really grounded TOWL, making it focused and captivating.

There are a lot of things I’d love to see in season two. I go back and forth because, on one hand, TOWL’s closing family reunion scene feels like such a fitting final moment for Rick and Michonne’s arc, both together and as individuals. Especially with Rick starting TWD as a man looking for his family, it’s beautiful that his story ends wrapped in the embrace of the wife and kids who love him and who he loves with everything in him. Rick finding his family and he and Michonne finding peace feels like the natural endpoint.

Then on the other hand, I of course would love to see what life looks like for the Grimes family post-reunion. We can always imagine different scenarios in our head, and sometimes future stories are better left imagined, but if they can find a way to show us what came next in the Grimes family’s life without it feeling just like an epilogue that would be nice. If TOWL Season One’s theme was ‘Reunion’, then I could see TOWL Season Two’s theme being ‘Recovery,’ on both a personal and grander scale.

My main thing is I just want them to come back if the quality will be on par with season one or better because I don't want anything to tarnish TOWL after the achievement of Season One. I do think it’s highly likely we’ll see Rick and Michonne again in some capacity, even if brief. So all that being said, these are 7 things I’d like to see if we’re blessed with a season two:

#1: Rick Bonding with RJ & Judith & the Moment Rick Truly Becomes Dad

I would absolutely love to see how Rick and RJ build their tight bond and get to know each other. And Rick being a girl dad with Judith would be great to see too. Whenever I envision what Rick’s return to being a dad to his kids could look like, I always think something that would be really heartfelt is seeing the moment when it’s clear his kids see him as dad not just because that’s his title but because they really do have a close father/child relationship now.

#2: Michonne Reconnecting with Judith & RJ

It would be interesting to see Michonne reconnecting with her kids as well. Especially with Judith being a teenager now and RJ not being her little baby in the same way. Michonne getting to see that she really did raise her kids to be smart survivors would be sweet.

#3: Rick and Michonne Living in Their Love Story & Navigating Parenthood Together

I hope a season two would still keep Rick and Michonne’s love story at the forefront because it really never gets old. I’d love to see them still having personal moments to enjoy their love in all the ways and reacclimating to life at home together. Since TOWL season one mostly showed them operating under the high stakes circumstances of the CRM, I’d love a look into how Rick and Michonne have been spending their more normal everyday life and especially how they are navigating parenthood together.

#4: Any and All Grimes Family Content (& Another Richonne Baby)

I’d love every bit of Grimes Family content they can give us. Like the four Grimes out on some type of excursion together where Rick gets to see Judith’s sword skills and gets to teach RJ to use the axe, that Family Fun Day picnic they filmed, a Grimes family dinner because in the post-Rick era of TWD we saw a few Grimes dinner scenes with that empty fourth chair and I’d love to see Rick finally get to fill that chair and have dinner with his family, and just any Domestic Grimes family moments.

Also, I could see the Grimes family expanding and Richonne having one more kid. If we got to see even just a glimpse of Rick with a pregnant Michonne, that would make me happy. I feel like with the right stakes added, this whole domestic family angle could be done in a fresh way without shifting the TWD tone too much.

#5: Rick and Michonne Reintegrating into Their Community and Saving The World For The Final Time

I know every good story needs conflict so I’d like to see how that plays out through Rick and Michonne reintegrating into their community. Rick and Michonne having a reunion with certain family members like Daryl would be nice, even tho I'm not sure how that would play out with Daryl on a whole other continent now. I also could see Richonne perhaps trying to be in ‘retirement’ but then some major threat (perhaps pertaining to things Beale mentioned in the breifing like spies and the potential fast-approaching threat of extinction) pulls them back into leadership to save the world one last time.

#6: Hearing Certain Words & Exchanges

I’d love it if season 2 included some of the stuff we didn’t get to hear in TOWL Season 1. Like Michonne officially being called ‘Michonne Grimes.’ Rick being referred to as Michonne’s ‘husband,’ Rick and Michonne both directly telling each other ‘I Love You.’ And either seeing or at least hearing that Rick and Michonne did go on to have that wedding ceremony like Rick wanted before. (Also, I personally would not be mad if season two wanted to come along and try to match or break the TOWL Season 1 kiss record lol.)

#7: Rick and Michonne Happily Growing Old Together

The most important thing for me would be that Rick and Michonne’s story still concludes with a happy ending in season two. Like I don’t want to visibly see one of them die or anything tragic happen to their kids. While I think Rick and Michonne wrapped in a family embrace is already such a perfect ending image for them, one that I think could be equally perfect is seeing that Rick and Michonne got to live a long happy life and grow old together. I’d love to know that, especially after losing children, they got to see their kids grow up into well-adjusted thriving adults and even start families of their own, making Richonne grandparents.

Two characters making it into old age and living a calm steady life after everything they’ve been through in this uncertain and often unforgiving apocalypse is a triumphant conclusion that we haven’t seen yet for prominent characters in TWD. And so it would warm my heart to know that Rick and Michonne really did get to love on each other and their family as hard as they could for many years and just truly and fully enjoy the peace they fought so hard for throughout this series.

BONUS: If they could find a way that feels natural and right then I’d love if there was somehow a scene that could include Chandler Riggs making an appearance to reprise his role as Carl one more time.

So those are some things I would like to see if TOWL has a second season. Writing this out actually made me even more grateful for TOWL season one though because they made sure to end the show in a way that is so satisfying to where I don’t feel like I need anything more. Like I love and miss Richonne dearly so I'll be glad to have them back on my screen, but I also am so fulfilled by what we got with TOWL. So even all these things on this s2 wishlist would be nice to see but they are in the ‘want’ category rather than feeling like these things are needed for Rick and Michonne’s arc to feel complete.

Thanks to TOWL, Richonne's story already feels whole and complete. But if the gift that keeps on giving wants to give us even more, I’ll welcome it, and I definitely trust the captains can deliver something special if they choose to return to TOWL. 👌🏽😊 Thanks again for asking and reading my extra self's response!

[thebearer]

What do you think is gonna happen in season 3 of the bear?

i honestly have been thinking about this a lot and i don't really know. here's what i hope to see, i guess sorta predictions.

i hope they show what happened to carmen's dad, and also what happened between donna and lee. there seems to be a lot implied, a lot that mikey got territorial over and defensive over. i feel like i'm missing a piece of the puzzle there.

i genuinely hope there's no more love interest with carm this season because he truly needs to get his fucking shit together. like that man doesn't need to be in a relationship with anyone but himself and finding himself so he can relax. i think the whole claire thing did nothing but solidify that, and honestly, as much as i want to see a syd/carm endgame, not this season because he is so fucked up right now (with peace and love) he would wreck it.

i do, however, hope they give richie a love interest. if he's not going to get back with tiff, which understandable but heartbreaking, then someone who can appreciate the new man that he is. personally, i would love to see someone from the past who knew mikey, give him a chance to heal and remember the good parts of his friend and that would understand him.

i think sydney should get her star, but i fear there's going to be a "better offer" plot line, where she takes another job at a better restaurant, probably because of something carmen did, or thinks about it. i feel like there's going to be conflict and that could be some of it this season.

i would love to see where richie and cicero's relationship will go now that they kinda had that moment? i feel like it was a big character growth and i hope to see something with it. the same with sydney's father and sydney, i hope there's some growth there too.

i hope pete has a great fucking season too. whatever happens, i hope pete has the best time.

[chocottang]

day 4: HALLOWEEEEEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

originally, this was just going to be cami and gold wearing matching customes of a witch and her black cat (got changed to gray because otherwise you wouldn’t see the marks) BUT it snowballed into an au. so if you’re interested in the random lore i made up (+explanations of the drawings), it’s under the cut

okay lets begin with explaining the drawings. so, about the two drawings with the red background: gold has the ability to change to cat form or humanoid form as he desires. he usually stays in cat form out of personal preference (+witches aren’t supposed to have humanoid familiars, i mean its not technically prohibited but it is an extremely weird thing to do) BUT he involuntarily switches to humanoid form while asleep, because it’s his “original” one. he likes falling asleep in cat form though (because he’s stupid) so he can end up in awkward positions.

about the drawing on the left with the purple background: in this world, witches are seen as both dangerous and helpful to people. they can help you with magic, but for a price, and if u don’t pay, you can get your ass cursed, or worse, they are said to also wreck havoc out of rage. because of this, there are certain people who see them as menaces to society and hunt them down: witch hunters! so, witches live in isolation and have a “territory” they oversee to make sure no hunters get near them, and they’re pretty protective of them. i imagine the drawing is what cami and gold would look like before Destroying a hunter. gold usually stays in his cat form though, as he doesn’t really fight unless cami needs the backup. he also can’t do magic (besides his own physical transformation), so he’s just a physical fighter, hence the claws.

about the little gray doodle, it’s just gold thinking about cami. since they’re together all the time in their territory, when they Have to separate to do their own thing, gold misses cami a lot and won’t stop thinking about her. he’s a kitty cat with separation anxiety

the other two drawings were just to figure out their designs and gold’s cat form design

okay lore time. so, gold used to be fully human, but his dad made a deal with a witch and failed to pay his part. as punishment, his firstborn was cursed to become a beast. gold didn’t know the reason why he turned into a beast out of nowhere. he didn’t have a good relationship with his family, and then his dad saw him and wanted to hide him from everyone, and everything became too much, so he ran away while in cat form. aaandd he stumbled into a coven composed of a witch and her pupils, one of which was cami. cami and him got along very well and her professor told her he could be her familiar. gold decides “hey, i have literally nothing better and these people are nice to me while they think i'm a cat so yea sure”. but alas, when he falls asleep he turns back into his humanoid form, and cami is the only one who saw it. gold explained what happened and cami figured out he must’ve been cursed somehow, after some research she figured the exact curse that was put upon him. when gold learned it was all his dad’s fault he was LIVID, and the only way to revert the curse was to complete the deal his dad made. they figured that if they are able to find the witch who cursed him and repay them themselves, they could convince her to lift the curse. thing is, they couldn’t, for the love of god, figure out who it was. with time, gold kinda got used to the curse, so they started working less and less on figuring out how to lift the curse until they kinda just… stopped.

i don’t have a lot on cami, she was a very cold and isolated kid, she didn’t have any friends and her family was Not… Good… she was always interested in magic, so when she had the opportunity, she joined the aforementioned witch coven. it's pretty common for witches to take in girls as pupils, creating the rumor of them “stealing and eating kids”. in reality, they are not kidnapping anyone, they are almost like a refuge for weird little girls. also, when gold and cami met they were like 12, in the present they would be in their early twenties, so they’ve been together for quite some time. and also yes they’re dating. what can you expect from me. 

fun fact: fred and freddy are here! freddy believes fred is the product of some sort of curse, and he goes to cami to try and strike a deal to get rid of fred. cami is sure fred isn’t a curse, so he must be some sort of bound soul, but isn’t sure if fred is a ghost, an angel, or a demon. so now freddy and cami are trying to figure out What The Hell is this guy. fred is not happy at all OBVIOUSLY, he doesn’t want to disappear. i don’t have a whole lot more on them than that (not even i know what the hell fred is lol), but i like the idea of cami sending freddy off to get her some stuff for a ritual they’ll do, while she herself goes get a different item that is way more dangerous to get, and she tasks gold to help freddy so he doesn’t die (and thus doesn’t fulfill his part of the deal (unsure what the deal will be)). gold is NOT happy. he generally hates anyone who isn’t cami, and now he has to be with this guy 24/7 without cami there, while she’s off in a dangerous mission, and he just has to be worried sick about her until they see each other again. he’s not having a good time, he’s very cranky. he does warm up to fred and freddy eventually. when they have to sleep, gold wouldn’t even sleep during the first nights. he would just stare at freddy from the other side of the room because he didn’t trust him enough to fall asleep. then he gets more comfortable (and tired) and starts falling asleep in a couch or just a blanket on the floor. when they become friends, gold would start sleeping at his feet (remember, he falls asleep in cat form, although he turns humanoid while asleep, so sometimes he’d fall asleep before freddy and just look extremely silly all curled up at the end of the bed in humanoid form). also yes freddy eventually realizes he doesn’t want to get rid of fred and they make up.

also golden is here too! him and gold are twins, but gold is the older one, so only he got cursed. when gold disappeared, their father told golden that an evil witch kidnapped gold, and they weren’t able to find him. so golden became a witch hunter LMAO. in freddy’s voyage to get the ritual items, he meets golden and stays at his mansion for some time and its Very Awkward. freddy actually starts believing that maybe cami is Actually Evil and kidnapped and cursed gold. but no, and gold does tell him, when he feels like it, because he’s a cat and he does things only when he wants to. gold will tell golden eventually, well, rather than “tell” he’ll turn into humanoid form so golden sees him and goes “holy shit that’s my brother” and THEN tell him what happened. idk when or how but i’m cooking, maybe. i also want golden and cami to meet because i think it would be funny, golden would definitely hate her at first. cami would just look at him and be like “wow you look like gold but less cute. have u tried using bells?” (she gave gold those bells cuz she thinks they look cute) 😭

i want to add the rest of the characters too, at least the animatronics and villains, sooo maybe ill post more about this au? idk

i think that’s all the rambling i have LOL happy halloween i guess? does this count as halloween themed? halloween themed au? if you’ve read all of this thank you. i love you. i hope you have a great day and fhs week

[spotlightlowlife]

Make Charlie and Lucifer PROUD rulers of the PRIDE RING

Charlie is a princess, so Lucifer is pretty much a king, so why not establish this?

There is nothing that tells us that this guy even runs this particular region of the entire realm he created.

Where is his palace?

His grande entrance was walking into the hotel his daughter owns that we haven't even explored.

Who bought Princess Charlie her own hotel?

Where is the boasting? Any ostentatious showcases of high status that would be normal for even well intentioned rich people? Being rich, flash and used to a lot of freedom can easily create someone who doesn't know best but is adamant that they do, no matter how silly they end up looking and how frustrating they can be, even when meaning well.

Hell is Lucifer's territory that he created and gives exterminator angels, who are nobodies, free reign of whilst he has a key to the door and seat at the house in heaven.

Lucifer hates the sinners so his lack of leadership and agreement to their genocides are spiteful acts - so let him be proud of his hateful ways, especially if it won't matter.

Charlie's issues with daddy, what we l got sold, was simply not giving her what she wanted the very moment she wanted it, that's what their episode boiled down to because honestly, what did her flashback have to do with anything? She's a grown woman who remembers a loving, fun and interesting person who made time for her but her mother would spoil that? Her dad is the only one of two people she can emotionally blackmail with 'if you loved me....' to get her own way, yet she's no emotional blackmailer, she's 'nice', the writing direction and her lack of doing wrong or anything in particular leads us this way.

Let Charlie be a manipulator who flutters her eyelashes and puts on a sad face to sway others, it's not like they haven't already made her more infantile. Why not commit more to her being a bit of a brat?

Lucifer and Charlie's different stance on the sinners was very short lived. Charlie got what she asked for and wasn't setting out to change daddy's mind, so much so that his involvement in all this wasn't even acknowledged. She's supposed to pitch to different people who are in different places and win them over, daddy would have been a good start to atleast try with, we could have seen how she tackles a lost cause of an ally.

We didn't see how she got her 'team' on board, but we did learn early on that she bribed Angeldust, we go on to learn that Husk and Nifty are tied in with Alastor who chooses to work with Charlie but has some ulterior motive, Cherrybomb who we get for a minute is Angel's friend and Vaggie had just been thrown away and picked up by Charlie.

We literally had two outsider characters engage with the hotel and barely with Charlie. Sir Pentious who stuck around but has since checked out and moved on to bigger and better things, all thanks to Charlie's enemy (who ironically succeeded at doing her dream job) and Mimzy who bought us valuable information and could bring us a lot more, but she's not welcome anymore, Charlie wasn't the one to banish her, she didn't see her worth at all, nor that of the unknown sinners Alastor wiped out.

Where is her outreach?

Community exists and others are thriving.

Why isn't this singing, dancing, out of touch clown out in the community like anyone else selling their cause?

Why isn't she upselling the business and all it has to offer on the regular like she supposedly did before we met her?

She can still be 'nice', showy and stubborn, all traits of being PRIDEFUL.

[weirdestbooks]

The New Century (Wattpad | Ao3)

Turn of the century celebration, requested by @lost-islands

America could hardly believe it. This was not the first turn of the century he had lived through, but the first where he was an independent country. It was hard to believe that just twenty-four short years ago, he had declared independence, that he had become a country.

“You’ve changed a lot,” James said. America laughed.

“I suppose I have,” he said, looking back up at the stars from his newly built home in his capital.

“Dad, can we please go join the others at the party? Please?” Territory Northwest of the River Ohio, better known as Ohio due to his long name, asked. America sighed, looking back up at the sky, before making his way to the front door.

“Of course we can. I can’t deny you and Sippi a chance to hang out with your siblings after all,” America said, stepping inside.

“Daddy!” Tennesse said, running over and jumping into America’s arms. America laughed.

“Hey, Ness? How are you doing?” he asked. Tennesse had been a territory since 1790 but recently got statehood in 1796, meaning she had only recently reached her stable age of fourteen, something she always seemed to forget, with her habit of running at people and expecting them to be able to catch her. America had seen Rhode Island and Providence Plantations barreled over time and time again.

He was pretty sure some of the other New England states were encouraging it.

“Great! I’m so excited for this,” Tennessee said, burying her face in the crook of his neck. America laughed, feeling warmth well up in him. 

That was another thing he couldn’t believe about the past twenty years. His children. Right now, he has eighteen children; sixteen of them are states, and two of them are territories that live inside the little world in his mind. Learning about them, learning about James and Rebecca, was shocking at first, but it quickly grew to be one of the most extraordinary experiences of his life. 

He still felt an aching grief when he remembered all of those that he never got to talk to properly, who he never got to meet because he was choosing to remain ignorant to all of the colonies and people who shared a body with him.

It was his biggest regret.

But that’s why he did his best to spend time with his kids now. The ones he neglected and the ones he recently had. He loved them with every fiber of his being and couldn’t imagine hurting them, not the way his father—the way Britain hurt him. 

He had done it once when New Jersey and New York were fighting over their border. As soon as he did, he panicked, started crying, and apologized. It was too horrifying to even think about doing it. He didn’t understand how his father could have done that to him and his siblings.

He had experienced it once, with the United Colonies of New England, for those forty-three years they got together before his father’s Dominion of New England ended her life. America never resented his brother for that. At least, he tried not to. Every time he brought it up with his father, things got fuzzy; either his father took control, or James did.

James still refused to tell him what had gone down between Britain and him in those three years.

However, although he didn’t know it then, the New England colonies that existed within his mind wanted him gone and blamed him for the death of their sister. They were upset, and in turn, they convinced America to be upset. It was a confusing time. He didn’t know how he felt because so many people dictated how he should feel then.

That was a hard time, and America had never really considered how…terrible it was to hurt your children at that time, as he and New England both lived with Britain at that time. It wasn’t until independence that he realized.

So America held his second youngest daughter close and swore to be better, promising that she would never have the childhood he and his eldest (living) thirteen had. 

Whatever had happened in the past would stay in the past. America would have to do better from here.

He swore to.

“I’m glad you are. Now, let’s go join the others. I’m sure they’re missing us,” America said, putting Tennesse now and grinning as she skipped towards the kitchen.

“You are wrapped around their fingers,” James said, voice warm and fond.

“Shut up,” America responded, but there was no heat in his voice as he followed Tennesse into the living room.

“Happy turn of the century, Father!” Massachusetts said upon America’s entry to the room. America smiled at his eldest son as Vermont approached him, grabbing his hand and dragging him onto the couch. 

“It’s time you for to take a break. I know being a country, especially a new one, is stressful—”

“Is that why you became a state?” South Carolina cut in, causing his twin sister to start laughing. 

“Shut it! So, I know that it’s stressful, but you need a break,” Vermont finished. America laughed.

“Don’t worry. I already promised James, Mass, and Ginny that I would not be working at all today,” America said. Vermont smiled.

“Good. ‘Cause if you did, I was gonna get Kenny to help me hold you down,” Vermont joked.

‘America, please try and do some work. I want to see this,” James said.

“Well, James is interested in seeing that,” America commented. Vermont’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he turned to Kentucky.

“Hey, Ken! Get Papa!” Vermont yelled, prompting the first and only state to have never been a territory inside of America’s head prior to his birth to come running over, leaping into America’s lap.

“Oof. Hey Ken,” America said, looking down at his son, who beamed up at him.

“Hey, Pa! You’ve gotta stay. Ginny’s orders.” Kentucky said.

“And mine!” Massachusetts chimed in.

“Mainly Ginny’s,” Kentucky whispered, causing Ohio to begin laughing. 

“Triplets! Get out of the kitchen!” Virginia yelled, and America watched as New Jersey, New York, and Delaware all ran into the living room, crashing into Maryland.

“Mary! Are you alright?” America asked as Kentucky scooted off his lap, allowing him to stand up and walk over to his daughter, who gave him a shaky smile.

“I’m fine, Dad!” she said, standing back up with the help of Delaware, who gave her an apologetic smile.

“Good. Next time, be more careful, boys,” America said, turning to the three of them. New York and Delaware nodded, New Jersey joining them after a quick elbow to the ribs from New York.

“But if they were careful, they wouldn’t be them,” Pennsylvania said, leaving the kitchen with a smile on her face. 

“Now, food is ready, so unless you are planning on starving to death, come!” she said, gesturing for them to follow her into the dining room, which seemed to shrink each time America had a new child.

“At this rate, we’re going to need to eat all family meals outside or in a banquet hall,” James joked. America rolled his eyes.

“Banquet hall is a bit of an over-exaggeration, James. There’s only so much land left for me to turn into states,” America commented. New Hampshire let out a snort of amusement from behind him.

“You say that now, Dad, but you have no idea. What if you somehow get a bunch of land? Then you would have more land to make into siblings, and then we really will need a banquet hall,” New Hampshire dramatically declared. America just shook his head and rolled his eyes before taking a seat at the head of the table, Virginia to his right and Massachusetts sitting on the other side of the table.

America looked around the table, feeling pride well in his chest as he looked at all of his children sitting there: Virginia, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maryland, Connecticut, Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, New Jersey, New York, Delaware, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, North Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, and Kentucky. 

He thought of the two children and brother who shared a body with him.

America couldn’t help but smile.

He couldn’t wait to see what the nineteenth century had in store for them.